Evening Star Newspaper, August 31, 1895, Page 15

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 31, 1895-TWENTY. PAGES. FADS INCANES How the Howling Swell Gets Himself Measured for a Stick. VARIETY IN STYLES AND WC Newest and Most Striking Things Favored by the Johnnies. THE ENGLISH CRAB Copyright, 1895, by Bacheller, Johnson & Bacheller.) T IS NOW CONSID- 2red the correct thing to have your cane cut to measure. If you are a howling swell you will go and have yourself meas- ured for a cane just as you do for a suit of clothes. First your exact height is tak- en, so as to get the length of the stick that will just suit you. If you are very exacting, and most people are who go to this extreme, your muscles and general build are sized up to get the right weight. Next a cast of the hand is taken by grasp- ing a piece of wax of the right consistency. This gives the peculiar contour of the hard when closed, as in grasping the han- dle of a cane. It insures ihe comfort of a handle that fits into the palm as if made for it. There are a few who carry the cane fad a little further, and have one to match every suit in shade. Such as these wculd as soon be seen wearing a cane that ‘Was “‘out of color” as a last season’s collar or a back-number hat. Even the vegetable kingdom has been @rawn upon to satisfy the craving of the gay young man about town in his desire for the unioue. The Isle of Guernsey grows @ peculiar cabbage, the stalks of which make a neat and novel cane. Of course, the dealers do not call them cabbage stalks, but put a smart handle and a fancy Tame on them and they are a great go. ‘They do the same by the mullein stalk, of which thousands have been sold during the past season. These are a home prod- uct, as the best specimens come from New Jersey. They make very desirable canes for cudes and young sports, being light as @ feather, yet strorg, and with very pretty Sticks, but it would cause no little con- sternation to their owners if they for a mo- ment thought them to be the stalks of the despised plant of velvety leaf. They are sold as “Cleopatras,” “‘Bernhardts,” etc., but only to the trade as mullein sticks. Amcng the lighter canes is the Malacca, Probably so called because it does not come from Malacca, but from a small place on’ the opposite side of Sumatra. In its nat- ural state it is as rich in color as a four- year-old meerschaum pipe which has been smoked by an expert. The Malacca is the favorite for a dress cane. The most valued are those cut the full length between the Joints at which the leaves sprout. As these are » the price is correspondingly high. ext to the Malacca comes the black evony for tasteful ornamentation with gold and silver. A very fair imita- tion of ebeny has been made from rubber. ‘The rubber soon turns green, but the fact that it closely resembles ebony when new has aftected the sale of the genuine article. For presentations it is now quite the Proper thing to have anebcny or Malacca cane made to order and surmounted by a silver or gold bust in miniature of the per- Bon to whem the gift is made.” English crab, as it is known among the “Johnnies,” is increasing in popularity, and this season some striking designs are shown. It is nothing more nor less than wounded cak. In England -the gathering of woods for canes has been reduced to a @cience. The cane gatherer no longer works ie Some New Desigus. at haphazard. In a certain sense he does not work for today, but plans for future crops. He goes abcut looking for suitable sprouts and saplings to train and mark for Qext year’s crop, and incidentally gathers those prepared the previous year. When he finds a young oak that promises to make a good stick, he sits down and pa- y and marks it at regular in- along its length, taking care to make each gash of sufficient depth as to mark the under wood. By the following year the bark has healed, leaving an oval scar that shows plainly on the wood when eled. Such Is the wounded oak, better nown as English crab. The gashes can be made to produce some striking and unique designs. Some cane hunters carry little pricking wheels that inflict a punc- ture at regular Intervals. This is varied by the use of a scroll wheel and dies that leave the imprint of an initial letter, stars, crescents, crowns, Venus-like figures, ete. ‘This season handles made from natural wood are more popular than ever before. ‘The most desirable of these are made from pimento and ornamented with snake-like turnings of silver. The pimento is really the root of a species of coffee plant, and is imported in bunches, in rough form, just as the root Is pulled from the ground. The process of preparation Is somewhat inter- esting. First the sticks are sorted into qvalities, thore having the most gnarls and twists being considered the most valuable. Now they are trimmed with a fine circular saw, manufactured especially for the pur- pese, as It requires a very fine temper to withstand the tough knots, to say nothing of the fine grit and small stones that are often imbedded between the roots and out of sight of the sawyer. If the branch that is joined to the root is long enough and not toc crooked the cane and handle ure of one piece, but, as is the case in many instances, the branch has to be sev- ered from the root, which ts then prepared as a handle for some other stick. It is hollowed out and joined so neatly to an- ick as to be imperceptible to the « As the roots are very hard, they are susceptible of high polish and fine carving. One of the recent novelties in pimenio canes has a silver lizard so placed as to look as if he were crawling among the roots after a fly that Is ingenlously placed on the opposite side of the stick. Another has a spider's net of silver threads spread between the gnarls. It is a neat thovgh rather suggestive design in the hand of a sporting man. The popular Madagascar vine is from Brazil. it ts a heavy stick, and In a free fight is worth two Irish blackthorns. Deep seams and heavy knots are its peculiar features. As it Is a very fibrous stick it is hard to cut, and is, therefore, usually fin- ished in natural form by trimming and pol- ishing the end. It 1s frequently stained a fine seal brown, and makes a swell cene for the use of the young man who takes afternoon stroll in a walking ruit of WR OF mouse colon Waugee sticks are a Chinese’ production, and are valued because of their peculiar irregular points. The favorite among Germans is the Weischel. It is cut from a wild cherry that is said to grow only in the Black Forest, Naturally this stick is very crook- ed and gnarled. In order to get straight sticks the German peasants build frames around the trees and train the young shoots upon them by fastening strings to the tip ends, passing them over pulleys. A light weight is attached to the other end of the string, and as the branch grows stronger the weight is increased. The gen- uine Weischel is distinguishable by its pungent odor, which comes from the end of the stick at the root after it has been cut down. While the odor is the strongest in the newly cut stick, it is quite noticeable for several years. It is a curious thing of Weischel that although it will grow seem- ingly quite as well when transplanted from its native home, sticks cut from the trees that have taken root in the new soil lack in the distinguishing odor of those grown in the Black Forest. The stick known as the Turkish Weischel is really the Ameri- can wild cherry. Although quite pretty, it is lacking in the perfume of the genuine article, Blackthorns are always popular. For $2 one can get an excellent specimen to show friends as just from the “ould sod.” You may alweys know the blackthorn by the three sprouts at each knot. There is the twig and the two therns that flank it. This is the favorite for a walking stick, and right here the differerce between a walking stick and a cane might be speci- fied. The former ts a keavy stick, while the latter is a light hollow reed or rattan, such as the bamboo and Malacca. The walking stick first came into common use as a sort of weapon carried by the English gentry on their rambles through the woods and forests of their castle grounds, while the lighter stick or cane was reserved for the promenade with the ladies through the flower gardens. The same distinction is yet adhered to with adaptation to modern times. One of the most st&rtling novelties re- cently brought out is a cane with a silver dagger as a hardle. In another a hunting represented by a stag that has % Ny : i For the Promenade. been brought to a kneeling posture by two dogs clinging to either side. In the natural woods, such as the Weil- schel and pimento, the ornamentation con- sists of knobs and snake-like coils of silver and gold ornaments. These applied pieces of metal are often engraved in fanciful de- signs, but the plain, polished surfaces con- trast very well with the natural wood. A novelty for a Malacca has a snake coiled about the upper end, and his projecting heed, as in the act of striking at a foe, serves 1s a handie. Some who have their canes made to order have added to the re- alism cf the snake by having it covered with leather tanned from the real snake skin. But that seems almost uncalled for, while there is an abundance of gold, silver, platinum, ivory, ebony and horns from the rhinoceros. SAVAGES OF CIVILIZATION. A Contribution to the Study of That Animal, the Boy. From the London Spectator. The history of our public schools affords plenty of examples of boys who have tor- tured their fellows in a way which would have disgraced a savage. It is to be feared, indeed, that it is accident more than anything else which saves boys of this kind —boys whose feelings have become petri- fied—frem actual crime. They are unable to feel, and their lack of experience of the world makes the fear of punishment but a small deterrent. It is not to be wondered that boys in such a temper of mind may be converted, by a series of unlucky chances and cpportunities, into the thouglitless per- petrators of really grave iniquities. Fortu- nately, these boys of petrified feelings do not necessarily grow into bad men. The hardening of their nature as often as not undergoes x complete change with man- hood. Their characters grow sensitive again, and the’ lad of twenty would be ut- terly incapable of doing tuings which the boy, of fourteen could undertake without the*faintest touch of remorse. We believe that schoolmasters of expericnce will bear us out in this, and say that they have known plenty of utterly callous boys who later have entirely lost the savage taint, and have turned into normal men. In this dangerous insensibility to which boys are s0 prone at thirteen and fourteen, the boy is not father to the man. It is difficult to say whence this insensi- bility comes, and why the child may be full of right feeling, the boy almost callous and the man again perfectly sensitive to the promptings of the heart and conscience. ‘Though we are not among those who would make the moral nature nothing but an af- fair of physical well-being, and the soul a matter for cHnical treatment, we are in- clined to believe that the temporary and partial petrification of the feelings and the moral sense during boyhood may be due to the great physical changes that are con- current with it. Those changes affect the boy's whole body, and absorb all his ener- gies. After all, sersitiveness is a form of energy, and the boy has little or no enerzy left with which to give his heart its rights. Every one knows how difficult a thing is a 2-o'clock-in-the-morning courage, and how hard it is to feel kind and self-sacrificing when one is half asleep. Sleepiness or ¢x- treme weariness makes one, to a certain ex- tent, callous and indifferent, and insensible to the fate of others. Well, the boy who is growing up and down and across, all at once, and with a speed which takes one’s breath away, is physically as much op- pressed as the man who is weary from overwork or loss of sleep. It is true that the exhaustion of rapid development takes a very different form; but it exists none the less. No doubt there are boys whose in- sensibility is deeper, and can only be ex- plained on the same lines as defects of character in the nature. For the ordinary normal boy, however, whose insensibility is not permanent, but temporary, the best explanation 1s, we believe, that which we have suggested. The stress of growth, to a certain extent, puts the moral nature under a sort of chloroform. +22 Not Marked. From Life. “J don’t see much difference between your sacred concert programs and your secular cencert programs.”” i “The eacred concerts are given on Sun: day.” “How do I know that you are not an im- pestor?” “Do I look Ike an impostor, mum? (Weeping.) Oh, mum, you have wounded me to the core!” “Here, my good man, take this. I did pot mean to wound your feelings, I ought to have known better.”—Life, BOUND BY OATHS A Chinese Seoret Society’s Extensive Ramifications. CAUSE OF THE RECENT TROUBLE HERE Politics in China, Black Mail in This Country. SOME CURIOUS CUSTOMS he Written for The Evening Star. HAT THE PRES- ent row between two factions of pig-tailed laundrymen in this city should be con- nected in any way with contemporary political troubles in China seems almost beyond imagining. Yet such is the fact. The recent massacre of Christian mission- aries in the east was accomplished through the machinery of a secret society, which has branches in all of the large cities of the United States. The branch at the national capital has had a wholesale blackmailing enterprise on foot lately; and hence the disturbance between the Moys and the Lees. The social arrangement of the Chinese is primarily an organization of clans. People belonging to the same family hang to- gether. In Washington the dominant clan is that of the Moys, who run the local branch of the seeret society aforesaid. Now, after the laundry business, the chief industry of these orientals is gambling, which furnishes a subsistence for all of them who do no work. The society levies a weekly assessment on every gaming table. Recently the Lees refused to pay the tax any longer, and war followed. Every now and then one reads in the newspapers of disturbances among the Chi- nese in one city or another of the United States. These troubles always arise from the same cause. Wherever there is a branch of the secret society it levies a reg- ular tax of so many dollars a week on each gaming table in the heathen colony. Once in a while the gamblers make up their minds to resist the imposition, and then the society r®sorts to blackmail. Spurious charges of murder and perjury are brought, and the machinery of our courts is invoked to help the scheme. Chinese and the Christian Religion. Alleged Christian converts and Sunday school scholars among the Chinese are usually members of the secret society. They care nothing for our religion, but merely profess to do so for the sake of certain ma- terial advantages gained. Among these ure opportunities of learning English, which to them is a valuable acquisition, and of flirt- ing with the young ladies who teach them the catechism. Their affiliation with the church actually is made to serve the pur- poses of the society on occasions when, as happened in Philadelphia a few years ago, a crusade was directed against the wicked almond-eyed gamesters. This crusade was a part of the black- mailing scheme in which the “good” China- men of the society were engaged. The gamblers had refused to pay their assess- ments, so the Sunday school pupils in pig tails induced the churches to make war upon the recalcitrant votaries of the god- dess Fortune. The pulpits thundered against the dens of oriental iniquity in the midst of the virtuous Quaker city, and the powers of the law were invoked to procure their suppression. The true inwardness of the plot was exposed, however, and it fail- ed. It was not considered desirable to pro- mote the interests of blackmail even against gamblers. While in this country the attention of the society is directed to nothing more impor- tant than blackmailing, in China its pu poses are chiefly political. Its.main object is the overthrow of the present Tartar dynasty and the restoration of the Ming family,which formerly occupied the throne. To its machinations are due the disturb- ances which now are agitating the empire. It is the greatest conspiracy in the world. A section of the penal statutes of the mid- Gle kingdom mckes membership fn it pun- ishable with death. Nevertheless, the num- ber of its members runs up into the mil- lions. Whereas the greater majority of them are of the most ignorant and de- graded classes, initiates of the order are to be found high in the councils of the state. Henven and Earth League. Members have a secret language of their own, and the system of signs is so elabor- ate that every action, as in eating, drinking or smoking, may indicate their affiliation with the society. It is said that the f: mous hatchet societies, or “highbinders, are branghes of the same great organiza- tion. The word “highbinder,” by the way, is of American origin; in Philadelphia fifty years ago it was a familiar synonym for ruffian. The society is called the “Heaven and Earth League.” It is also known as the “I Hing”. or “Patriotic Rising.” The notion that it has any connections however remotely, with the Masonic order is a mis- take. At the same time, many Masons be- Meve there are Masonic lodges in China. ‘This society has been a cause of constant and serious apprehension to the govern- ment of China. Twice during the present century its machinations have culminated in open rebellions, which have only been subdued after protracted wars, with much desolation and bloodshed. Its membership is constantly Increasing and embraces all classes, from officers holding the highest pesitions down to the poorest peasants. It includes nearly two-thirds of all the Chinese in the United States. In San Fran- cisco sub-branches of the order are said to have for an object the protection of gambling houses and the care and surveil- lance of those unfortunate women who constitite the greater part of the female emigrants from the middle kingdom. They are popularly regarded as bands of out- laws, ready and willing to commit any crime which the policy of their leaders may dictate. In St. Louis and Chicago many offenses against law are attributed to the emissaries of the dreaded “I Hing.” Like a Court of Law. ‘The Chinese in America came exclusively from the province of Kwantung; hence the extensive family relations among them. Wherever there ts a colony of them in the United States they have a meeting hall of the society. Here the chief, or head man, sits behind a table with a secr2tary, who records his decrees. These formalities are said to simulate those of a petty Chinese court of one of the earlier dynasties. Be- fore this tribunal aggrieved members lay their claims for redress. The! constant quarrels arising over the gambling tables, the family feuds carried down for genera- tions at home, are here revived, not always for peaceful seitl2ment, it is to be feared, but for revenge, sometimes even to the death. Those who incur the displeasure of the order are often made to feel its power, and sometimes, it is said, they are found murdered. ‘The initiation of new members ts conduct- ed with much solemnity. Candidates, dress- ed in long cottua robes, are required to answer a series of questions. “Have you a father?” asks the catechist.. “No!” the novice must reply. “Have you sister “Nol” “Brothers? “Only my brothers, patriots.” forsworn and eternal fealty pledged to the brotherhood before an altar, on which is burning incense and drawn sword. The oath is written on. yeilOw paper, which is finally burned. The new member now receives a bock, which contains instruc- tions for secretly making himself known to fellowsmembers. The volume also holds a vocabulary of the secre: language, ky means of which he can carry on conversa- tions quite unintelligible to the outside Chinese world. Immemorial custem among the Chinese has prescrived the exact manner in which they perform almost every action of their lives. The slightest variations from tra- ditional usage, whether in eating. drinxing, or the munner of wearing their dress, is noticeable, and such variations are made to serve as fraternal signals am%ng members of the society. Lifting the. cup with the thumb and two fingers, or sl it thrice Every social relation must be, over the bowl when drinking, are among the maithia th Sauloyet: To advance, one foot in the di B house Plage an umbrella on ef ia signal fot assistance given by a itive from officers of the lav. The initiation fee varies wit! the means of the candidate, and is devote to paying for the dinner that always fol- lcws the ceremony,; It is usually about $20, besides which each member is assessed from $25 to $100 annually. Large sums of money are expended for the defense of brothers who have,come within the province of the law while acting in behalf of the so- ciety, or for the -prosecution of outsiders who have offended, it. Suggested by a Romance. Romance and tradition dominate the minds of the Chihese who emigrate to America. Tales of fairies, demons and genii, warriors aid ne-romancers, drawn from the inexhaustible stores of their pop- ular literature, amuse their Ieieure. It is from one of these'histories or romances that the plan of the Beayen and Earth So- cfety is said Ly some of the Chinese to have been derived. This tels is accounted one of the ten literary masterpieces of China. It is an acccunt of the lives and adventures of a band of one hundred and eight chival- rous robbers, who lived during.the reign of the Emperor Cheh Sung, $00 years ago. They drew to their ranks the outcast and disaffected from all parts of the country. Living in the fastneszes of the mountains, for many years they successfully resisted all attempts to subdue them, devoting them- selves to succoring the poor at the expense of the rich and oppressive officials whom they plundered. ‘The Chinaman has become a_well-estab- lished character in the popular literature of the United States. The professional humor- ist has paid his respects to him, and the playwright has made him figure as an amusing personage in the drama. But the almond-eyei oriental of contemporary humor and of the stage is a creation of fancy rather than a reality. He talks and sings in “pidgin,” or business English, though, in point of fact, he is usually al- together unfamiliar with that jargon, as most of the immigrants come from districts remote from the cities where it serves as the trade language in communications with foreigners. A desire to learn the language of his adopted country seems to be one of the highest ampitions of the imported Chinaman. He Jizes the intrinsic value of such knowledge, for it may enable him to obtain a well-paid position as interpre- ter in some shop Ge Hons Kong es Canton on his return to his native country. The*differences in speech and tradition, and the influence of tribal sentiment, serve as elements of discord in the Chinese com- munities. Thus they are divided into lit- tle cliques, which are constantly quarrel- ling, as the disputes of each individual are apt to_be taken up by his relatives. These quarrels give rise to endless talk, and often so engage the communities that for a time everything else is forgotten. Usually they are only wars of words, In one reported instance a man was brought from a dis- tant city, and all his expenses paid, simply to say bad things at the other party in a trifling dispute. The Chinese seldom come to blows. They are not given to crimes of violence, and such assaults by Chinamen as are reported in the daily press are com- mitted as a rule by professional criminals, who are held in detestation by all the bet- ter class of the immigrants. Chinese Characteristics. The notion that the Chinese are aston- ished at our civilization and its mechanical conveniences is a mistake: they take it entirely as a matter of course. They have much less respect for our laws than for their own code, which rests upon public sentiment in their little communities. No organized form of self-government exists in any of the Chinese colonies in our cities. In the east the Six’Companies exercise no authority whatever.+The colonies are de- moeracies, which regulate their own af- fairs. They haveono!priests of any religion. Many laundries ‘and shops contain small shrines, before which incense and candles are burned. Gamblers make offerings to the god of war for fack. The Chinese are extremely afraidtof ghosts—particularly the unlaid spirits of “foreign devils.” The Chinese in this country make great use of both the, posj office and the tele- graph. They are most generous patrons of railways. They are unwilling to take our medicines, and t¥ey ‘wiil not go to hospitals if they can help ft. They believe that when a man goes toa hospital he always dies. They say there is a devil there that catches and kills’ pébple. The notion cur- rent among them that a Chinaman who has-lost nis queue would be put to death should he return,.te China is probably due to the fact that, the, cutting of the queue forms part of the ritual of the rebel se- eret society, membership in which is pun- ished with death by the government. —_._—— ANCIENT TRADE IN ILLINOIS. Antiquities Along the Southern Shore of Lake Michigan. From the New York Post. Some interesting facts concerning the early local history of Chicago, with theo- ries of the archaeology of that region, have been made public in a paper prepared by John F. Steward, an archaeologist who has given much study to the antiquities of the Lake Michigan shore. He firds that “the archaeology of Chicago blends into the re- corded acts of the French expiorers, more than two centuries ago.” Tie geographix cal importance of Chicago (first spelled “Chicagou") was recognized by the primi- tive inhabitants, and there are evidences that the place was a center for traftic among the Indian tribes before its written history began. In fact, it is Mr. Steward’s belief that “as a commercial center Chicago began not long after the subsidence of the post-gla- cial waters that sifted and shifted the sands and gravels of the Mississippi valley and turned, in part, the new-formed lakes through the Gulf ‘of St. Lawrence and partly into the Gulf of Mexico.” Continu- ing the search for facts concerning this early time, he says: “It is impossible to read rightly the story that our archaeolog- ical finds might tell; whether the stone hearths that are so abundant on the lake shore were laid by the French, as they camped over winter or perhaps only for days waiting for storms to abate; or whether they were laid by the great Ili- nols nation, the Pottawatomies, or other later tribes that frequented this vicinity, or laid by the so-called mound builders. ‘Al- though there are many mounds in the vi- cinity, I have never found anything that seemed in any way like mound builders’ fortifications, except upon the brow of a high hill near the village site. There is to be seen a circular area of an acre in ex- tent, one-half of the circle consisting of the steep hillside itself, and the other half of a ditch and embankment. The entrance 1s still well defended, and a bank is seen to close it. “The Frenchmen have told us that wher- ever they stopped they fortified themselves; and they may have done.so here. The abundance of potsherds shows that the people we are considering cooked their foods. We know that the later ones raised corn, beans, melons and some vegetables, for the early French explorers tell us so. Shells that show the action of fire show that they indulged in clambakes. They made-maple sugar, and boiled their saga- mite in the maple sap, and thus made a dish well liked by La Salle and his men. The wild onion, still so abundant, served them well. We find their hoe blades, usu- ally made of flint, often well worn by use. It is my belief that*mcst of the relics we find in the vicinity of Chicago were left by the Illinois conféderdtion, which consisted of several tribes that, during the time of the French explotatiéns, held possession of nearly th2 entire $taté, now known by their name. The mourids are probably older.” ——_+b-— Hard jo Kit From Pearson's Werkly,? The following Story! of a scorpion getting into a boot is told at the expense of an off- cer'who was stationed with his regiment at Allahabad. He was sputting on his boots one morning, and was just about to stamp the heel down when he felt a sharp prick. Several scorpiong, had been seen about the barracks for the past few weeks, fo that he naturally concluded_that it was one of these pests that had stung him. “Well, the harm’s done now,” he mut- tered, with a mental benediction upon the head of his servant for being so careless; “but, anyhow, I may as well Kill the brute. It'll get away if I take the boot off.” Accordingly, he hegan stamping violently on the floor, with a view to erushing the fe out of the scorpion. Every time he stamped it gave him the greatest agony, but he stuck bravely to it, until at last he thought that the objectionable tenant must be dead. When he took off his boot, however, he felt both relieved and vexed, but was glad that he had not summoned assistance. It was years before he could tell the rea) story of his scorpion, for during half an heur he had been stamping upon and trying to kill a blacking brish which his servant had accidentally left in the bottom of his rt. 15 eee ON THE BOUNDING WAVE A STORY FOR BOYS. (Copyright, 1895.) ‘Whatever men haven't is generally what they most long for, and if boys weren’t just like men in this respect they wouldn’t be human. The boys of Glenway lived fifty miles from any open water, except a brook about six feet wide, and the brook itself was navigable only by a punt, whch drew but five inches of water when there were two buys in the punt. Consequently there was but little sailing in the brook; the largest spread of canvas ever attempted on the punt was a bed sheet, which caught as much wind as any other sail of its size and worked splendidly so long as the wind was dead aft and the brook was straight, but whenever a bend of the stream was reached the punt would insist upon going across the country, and it would go far enough to put itself about half way upon the land and throw the crew forward upon their respective noses. So all the Glenway boys longed for a sail upon water broad enough to turn a buat in and with shores so far apart that @ boat could not reach them except when it should. They read all the articles about boats in the weekly and monthly periodi- cals for boys, and they papered their walls with yachting pictures clipped from news- papers published in the nearest seaside city, and they studied rigs and keels and cen- terboards and they discussed each yacht- ing event reported in the aforesaid papers unuil, if you had overheard them in the dark, you might have imagined them a lot of men who knew just how yachts should be sailed in a race for the America’s cup. They made sailboat pictures on their slates in school when they should have been doing sums, and when the penalty of detection was I'kely to be to sit in the girls’ seats for half a day, which was much more severe than a flogging. They dream- ed by the hour, with their eyes wide opea, of flying across rippiing waves behind a tall, snowy sail, with just enough spray— not tco much—to moisten their faces, and exchanging salutes, with the colors, or per- haps a little canncn polished as bright as gcld, with other bounding craft, and per- haps hastening to the rescue of some other boat, which, of course, would coniain # beautful maiden and her grateful father. But all things come ‘to him who waits. One day the Dashout Hose Company ad- yertised a railway excursion to Paradise Beach, sixty miles distant, and invited all Glenway to go at the trifling expense of cne dollar a head, children half price. The boys did not like to regard themselves as children, for most of them were twelve years of age, but on this occasion they waived their dignity and every one of them bought tickets, for the hose company’s poster announced that sailboats could be hired at moderate prices in the inlet of the beach. The excursion day dawned in satisfactory style, except that there did rot seem to be any wind to speak of; but Jack Sprote, the largest of the»boys, reminded the others that all newspaper reports of yachi races spoke of the wind freshening with the sun, and of welcome puffs from unexpected quarters, and of eats’ paws and ail sorts of nice boating things which hadn’t been vis- ible in the early morning. Jack was right, too, for when the train ,;eached Paradise Beach, and he and five other boys hurried toward a place where a lot of masts were visible, and which they correctly assumed was the inlet, there fanned their faces a delightful breeze, and it was in just the right direction, too, blowing from the head of the inlet toward the bay. No time was lost in the selection of a boat; Dicky Murrell, who was an imagi- native little chap, who sometimes wrote verses, wanted to take the Seabird; but Jack and the other boys insisted upon char- tering the Diver, because she lay nearest the bay and to broad water. Then, while the owner hoisted the sail and collected his pay in advance, all of the boys crowded astern, for each wanted to steer. “Here, there!” shouted the owner, as the sail swung out, ‘‘why don’t somebody get a grip onto that sheet?” The boys looked at one another, and then looked about the boat. Dicky Murrell saw a rope going rapidly over the side of the beat, and snatched at it to keep it from being lost, although it never occurred to him that ft could be the sheet alluded to, for no sheet of any kind that he had ever secre looked at all like a rove. “Haul in—fast!"” shouted the owner of the boat. Dicky hauled; but the sail was haul- ing at the ‘otner end, and was much bigger than Dicky, and had got fairly into the spirit of the job, so the rope continued to go over the side, and soon Dicky and a huge yell went with it. Finding Dicky’s whole welght acting as a drag in the water, the sail concluded to be reasonable, and it came in a little, so that the boys could seize the rope. “Hold her to that!" roared the owner, while two boys dragged in the end of the sheet that had Dicky in tow and two more comprehended the purpose of ths rope that is tied to the boom of a sailboat. “Now, put up your helm, and bring the boat ashore.” Dicky having been dragged aboard, the boys looked inquiringly at Jack, for all knew what a helm was, but Jack scowled and said: “What does the fellow mean by putting up the helm? Do you suppose he wants me to take the rudder out? If I do it, how can I steer?” ‘There was no answer, although the owner continued to shout something. Meanwhile the beat was flying dewn the inlet. Jack, although at the helmsman’s post for the first time in his life, knew the purpose of a rudder, and he had enough natural ob- stinacy to push in the direction of the greatest resistance, yet he steered so wild- ly that Dicky was moved to remark, be- tween his chattering teeth: . “This boat is as fond of the shore as our old punt in the brook at home, I really do believe.” Fortunately, the bay was soon reached, after which there was no shore to make trouble, and Jack was learning rapidly the ways of a rudder, and the sail was so far forward of the mast that it took care of itself pretty well, although it did not look ship-shape to other sailors, some of whom jeered the Glenway crew, while one good- natured fellow shouted: “Haul in your sail a little, boys, or It will wrap itself around the mast at the first hard puff.”” Of course they didn’t want the sail to wrap itself around the mast, for they had never read of anything of the kind being done at yacht races, so five boys erose and tugged at the sheet. Still, too much of a good thing is sometimes worse than not enough; as they pulled they sud- denly tumbled into the bottom of the boat, for there was nothing for them to pull against, the sail having suddenly “gybea”— gone to the other side of the boat., As it went it mixed Jack and the tiller and the sheet in an unsightly tangle, and Jack let go the tiller to clear himself of loops of rope, and by the time the crew got up from the bottom of the boat the sail was flapping noisily and the boat was rocking on the little waves, and not doing any satl- ing of any kind. “Why don’t she go?” asked Sam Shaw. “I guess she’s in irons,” suggested Peet- sie Brewer. He didn’t know the nautical meaning of the expression “in irons,” but the boat seemed closely fastened to her place upon the water, so the term seemed to suit. , “She's lost the wind,” said Jack. “Push the sail o some of you, 50 we can catch some more.’ By much work, assisted by much luck, tbe sail once more filled and again the boat Gashed merrily toward the other shore of the bay, several miles distant. Then the boys who were holding the sheet grew very tired of the job, and one of them conceived the brilliant idea of tying the straining rope to a wooden pin at one side of the boat. Then everything went pleas- antly for awhile and everybody's spirits rose finely, and Sam Shaw began to hum “A Life on the Ocean Wave,” and the boys all began to sing the words, and still the boat sped aléng as if she were proud to display her abilities to a lot of strangers from the interior of the state. But Jack soon began to put on a very long face. It semed to him the other shore of the bay was becoming alarmingly near, and that before long it would be necessary to turn the boat sround to avoid running ashore. He made several cautious efforts with the rudder, but after turning a little in one direction the sall would threaten to gybe, while a point or two off the course in the other direction would set the sail flapping. He was not the only one who no- ticed all this, for Sam Shaw asked: it thme to turn around?” ‘Yes,” replied Jack gloomily, “but the obstinate thing won't turn.” “J'll bet that boat owner knew us for a lot of country Jakes,” said Dicky, “else he wouldn't have stuck us with a boat that couldn’t be turned around.” “If there were any other sailboats over here I'd look at them and see how they a said Jack, “but there aren't any. ahi“and then baStie her ‘head “svound toward home.” “But how are you going to turn the wind eoune so it will blow us that way?” asked am. “Gracious!” exclaimed the unhappy helmsman. “I never thought of that.” “There's a boat coming along behind us real fast,” remarked Dickey; “let’s all watch her and see how she turns.” So they all watched, Jack included, al- though the sail of the boat that was fol- lowing hid the sailor so shamefully that when the turn was made they could not see how it was done. “Ah, well,” said Jack, “'twas only a half turn anyway, for he’s sailing at right angles to us—sée?” They all saw that Jack spoke the truth, but as they gazed they heard something grate and creak, and felt something tip and spill, and when they recovered them- selves and looked about them they learned that what had spilled was the crew, and that the boat was well up on the beach and resting upon her keel and one of her sides. It didn’t take long for each boy to blame all the others, and say that he wouldn't have come on any account if he hadn’t supposed, from their talk, that the other knew the whole theory of boat sailing, but Jack soon put a stop to this by saying: “Let's stop talking and go to work. We're more than sixty miles from home and on, the wrong side of the bay, and it we don’t get back before the excursion train leaves we'll have a two or three days’ tramp be- fore us, in a country where we're not ac- quainted with any of the dogs. We must let down the sail, push theeboat back into the water, and if she won't be persuaded to sail ens a her back. There's one oar in the boat and we can find a pi board to help.” wien oF Then followed half an hour of straining, and slipping, and pushing, and tearing. of clothes, until some one thought of prying the boat’s head to the water by means of the oar, but just as they succeeded the oar broke. The shortening of this main hope of the homeward trip lengthened s!x faces until Jack took up a collection walch yielded more than 50 cents, with which he scoured the vicinity until he found a farmer, who sold him three narrow boards and lent him a hatchet with which to roughly convert them into six paddles. By the time he returned the tide had lifted the boat, and all the other boys were standing kne>-deep in water to keep the wind from drifting the dreadful craft back uport the beach. At a given signal all six clambered in and began to paddle; at this, at least, they felt somewhat at home, thanks to practice with the old punt in the brook at Glenway; but hard though they worked, that beach behind them con- tinued to remain exasperatingly near. The silence of the crew began to be oppressive, so Jack said: “Let's make believe that this is one of the old Norsemen’s galleys, boys.” “Yes, let's," growled Sam Shaw, “for I guess I know how galley slaves used to feel. My back’s aching fit to break, and my wei-clothes stick to me as if they were glued, and, oh, how the insides of my hanis do burn? “Mine, too,” responded several voices in chorus, while Dicky Murrell added: “I be- lieve I never was so hungry in all my life.” This reminded the other boys that they, too, were hungry, and that their lunch baskets had been put in the baggage car with those of the other excursionists. “Cheer up! Chea up!” shouted Jack. “Let’s have some Music to put some heart into us. Let's sing ‘A Life on the Ocean Wave’ again.” “If you do I'll pitch you overboard,” de- clared Sam Shaw; s0 the paddling con- tenes as dismally as the boys’ own refiec- ticns. “Let's hail some other sailboat, and prom- ise to pay him for towing us back to the inlet. Plenty of the excursionists know us and our families, and will lend us whatever it may cost, which can’t be very much,” said Jack. 2 There was some cheer in this suggestion, and the boys began to paddle harder so as to get within hailing distance of boats which did not seem far away; indeed, Sam Shaw paddled so hard that his paddle sud- denly broke, and the paddler, with nothing to lean against as he strained, tumbied overboard; and some time was wasted while ropes were thrown to him and he Waserescued. While he was being helped aboard a deep shadow and a rushing sound made themselves evident, and the boys Saw a sailboat round their stern and luff. “Will you tow us back to the inlet?” shouted Jack. “That’s what we come for,” replied the man at the tiller; “an’ when you git in the old man 'll pound the life out of you if you’ve done any harm to the boat by run- nin’ her ashore. What sort of galoots be you, anyhow?” There was no answer. There are ques- tions for which it is hard to frame an ap- propriate answer. “Chuck us your painter,” said one of the men in the boat. = _ of us ts a painter; honest,” replied ‘We want the end of the rope that the boat was tied with when the boss was fool enough to hire it to you,” said the other man in the boat. “Can you understand that much of the English language?” ‘The rope was thrown, the two boats were drawn together, one of the men joined the boys, took the tiller, shouted “Let her go, Bill,” and soon the homewagf trip began in earnest, although the new helmsman looked so contemptuously at the boys that Dicky Murrell ‘was almost inclined to drown himself for fear of a worse fate when we got ashore. The boys attempted to gather forward for consultation, but they were gruffly ordered back, so as not to “keep her head down,” so they preserved silence and kept their own heads down. An attempt to run as soon as the boat touched the shore was frustrated by the owner of the boat, who put two or three rough fel- lows on guard over the boys while he care- fully looked his property over, and seemed angry at learning that the boat had not been injured in any way, except that the car had been broken. About that time sey- eral members of Rushout Hose Company had got wind of the trouble, and came down to see fair play, so the boys got only bad language by way of punishment, al- though they had to pay double price for the broken oar. The Glenway boys still long to go sailing, and they talk much about boats, and make pictures of boats, but they have agreed that next time there is an excursion to Paradise Beach they will hire a boat with a man aboard, whether he be called sailor, master, skipper or “old man”—and they will hire him to show them how to turn a boat around without turning it too much. ——+e+____ Self-Protection. From Brooklyn Life. “I see you've let yer bull loose in pas- ture, Jim! Ain’t he a leetle bit savage?” “You bet, he's a terror, but et’s the onty way I can keep them dad gasted city folks from digging little holes all over my med- der and playing shinney inter ‘em.” . —_+e+-____ An Oklahoma Weddin, From Pgck. The Rev. Mr. Harps (solemnly)—“Do you take this woman for better or for worse?” Tarantula Jack (peevishly)—“How kin I tell? I hain’t known her but a week!” CEMETERIES IN LONDON, Char.ges in the Cities of the Dead to inke Way for the Living. From the Kansas Gity Star. In the city of London there are many old deserted and abandoned graveyards. Their “occupation” was “gone” when years ago Was passed the act of parliament making burials obligatory in extramural cemeteries. Chief among these old graveyards is Bun- Bill Fields, known to all visitors as the famous resting place of the dissenters, where are the monuments of the writers of two great books, “The Pilgrim’s Pro- gress” and ‘Robinson Crusoe,” books which have been causing people to seek the king- dom of heaven and also the ends of the earth as runaway sailor boys for lo these many years, counting into centuries. Bun- hill Fields is, in fact, a show place and has a somewhat cheerful aspect when the sun shines, though there are grewsome associations when one thinks that they buried people there in hurried and hideous fashion in the days of the great plague, and so many of them that the place came to be called Bone Hill, and that it is esti- mated that 100,000 bodies have been buried over and over in that small four acres. But besides Bunhill Fields there are other old burial places, without its fame—173 in all, it is said—scattered over London. The great city has grown all around them and beyond them and hidden them. They lie behind the rows of houses, reach through the houses and under arches and by blind passageways. Human feet are seldom turned that way any more; but the dark- ness finds them, and the gray fog, and the dripping rain, and the snow, and the cold, and the mold. There stand the “houses all alike, you know; all elike in a row.” There are the tombstones standing up- right and at all angles, the fall indicating how long and heavy has been the pressure of time and neglect and forgetfulness. As these bear down the stone sinks. Sad places these, and yet they have been pre- served from busy encroachment; the marts of trade have not been suffered to invade; men have not been allowed to take them for gain or other uses. Once set apart for public purposes, these lots and parcels of ground have, as it were, been kept apart. It has been determined of late by the Proper autHorities to change all these graveyards into something else. To convert all these grounds dedicated to the dead to uses of the iiving, to convert them all ac- cording to their size and capacity into parks and lawns, open spaces and breathing places for the people. It has taken a long time to bring about this decision, and that it has been made is a sign of the comin: of the new earth. What has been call “respect for the dead” has been counted a very strong sertiment among Christian peoples. It has protected the resting places of mortality in the midst of crowded cities for centuries, the dead, as it were, being cherished to the detriment of the living. Often and often the imperious needs of commerce have been checked by the sen- timent. The street was needed, but it must not be opened through the humble ceme- tery. Some strange and mighty change must have occurred to weaken this senti- ment so that in conservative London a decree should have gone forth that all thes “hallowed” resting places of the departed should thus be converted into something very like pleasure grounds. A change. hae come in London and not in London only, but in all the cities of the world, the great civilized and enlightened and progressive world. The change is in this, that “respect for the dead” gives way to respect for the living. It is the living man who must be cared for and ‘looked after, and protected and helped, and given his chance for life now, and therefore grass shall grow and trees shall wave and foun- tains shall throw their spray, and birds shall sing and young and old shall walk abroad and the breath of life shall come into the congested lungs of the crowded town, where are now these broken tombs and these moldering evidences of mortality. That is the spirit of the modern gee the best spirit, and every man should feel himself in accord with it, that the world is* for the use of the people who are now living in It, that it belongs to them, and everything in it should be devoted to the best use and behoof of the greatest number of these. The sentiment which takes these grounds, hitherto set apart for the unknow- ing and uncaring dead, and devotes them to the healthful and happy use of living men, women and little children is the sentiment which animates everything that goes under the commonplace name of “public improve- ment,” which makes, for instance, a new and good road, quite regardless of the sort of road which may have existed for un- known centuries, not that the king may proceed from one part of his dominions to another, but that everybody, high and low, rich and poor, in carriages and on foot and on bicycles may go their ways in com- fort and expedition. This sentiment, be it known, does not care where the old road. went, nor how long it had been laid out, nor how many old people were attached to it and thought it was good enough for them; the question dealt with is but the need of the new and the benefit it will be to the thousands now who, with the thousands to come, make up the eternal majority. A Record Breaker. From the Atlanta Constitution. “I saw in today’s Constitution a story about a Charleston ‘nigger’ having his tooth knocked out by lightning,” said a gentleman who was leaning against the news stand at the Aragon, “and it pained me to observe a spirit of levity in the re- port of the occurrence, which indicated some degree of doubt as to its truthfulness, “Now, I had a little experience of that kind myself,” continued the speaker, in a reminiscent tone of voices “and I'll tell you about it if you'll promise to believe what I say. The incident I refer to hap- pened in "73, the same year that silver was demonetized, though I don’t know that that had much to do with it. I was standing in the door of my ‘dobe, in Brazos county, when a bolt of lightning came whizzing down from a clear sky right spang into that there door, and hit me on the jaw.” “What became of the lightning?” asked a listener, tentatively. “As I was a-goin’ on to say, that light- ning went plum through my jaw and tack- led the plugs in my front teeth, an’, gentle- men,” said he, solemnly, as he gl the faces of the expectant crowd, men, I hope nobody’ll never believe me again if that there blamed lightning didn’t melt sixteen silver plugs and one gold one and mix ‘em all together in a lump! “Of course,” he added, as he turned to leave, “I don’t pretend to say that it meant anything. I just happened to think of it while reading the story in today’s paper.” The narrator was Capt. Francis Seawell of Brownsville, Texas. ——e0—_____ At Their Five O'Clock Tea. From Trath. The Daughter of the Revolution—“At our last meeting Mrs. Oldfield told how her -great-grandmother sacrificed the family plate for the cause.” The Colonial Dame—“Yes, I’ve heard that the ccntinentals were often hard pushed to find lead for their bullets.” dl Too Ex'acting. From Life. “You know that, althougn a wea:thy man, ‘Then why do you refuse me?” swear—that I perfectly exemplary. “You couldn’! ‘t ask me to am ~ I never drink,- gamble the manager of a freeki*™