Evening Star Newspaper, September 14, 1895, Page 15

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1895-TWENTY PAGES. 15 BATTLE OF LOOKOLT MOUNTAIN ON BLOODY FIELDS Reunions at Chickamauga and Chat- tanooga. THE GREATEST OF MILITARY PARKS Story of the Eventful Campaign on the Tennessee. STRENGTH OF THE ARMIES Correspondence of The Evening Star. CHATANOOGA, Tenn., September 12, 1895. HE LARGEST BAT- tle of modern times! The greatest number of old soldiers since the civil war! These will be the double honor of Chickamau- a's bloody fleld on September 19 and 20, when the Chatta- nooga and Chicka- mauga battlefield will be dedicated as a national military park. Congress en- acted last December that the dedication should be a national affair, and the pros- pects are that it will be notable and mem- orable in many ways. It Is anticipated that ag many as 400,000 persons will be there, and preparations are making to accom- modate that number. President Cleveland and all his cabinet fre expected to be present and participate, together with the justices of the Supreme Court, committees of Congress, both House and Senate, the lieutenant general of the army and & large body of regular troops, the ranking admiral of the navy, the gov- ernors of nineteen different states, with their staffs, and detachments of local mili- tia, and the survivors of the several armies, Union and confederate, that were engaged in the Chickamauga and Chattanooga cam- paigns thirty-two years ago. The states to be represented by their governors in person are Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecti- cut, Vermont, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Illi- nois, Indiana, Missouri, Tennessee, Ken tucky, South Carolina, Alabama, Georgia and Louisiana. Fully seventy-flve per cent of the veterans of the G. A. R., which has been in session in Louisville, will find their way to the dedication, and an equal propor- tion of the Sons of Veterans will «ome hither after their battlefield encampment at Knoxville. The yearly meeting of the Army of the Cumberland has been called to as- eemble at Chickamauga on the anniversary of the battle, and the Army of the Tennes- see will meet in Cincinnati and go in a body to the dedication. A Grand Parade. On September 19 there wili be a grand parade of veterans, north and south, dedi- cation of the Chickamauga section of the park and exercises at Snodgrass Hill, to be opened by Secretary Lamont. The orators will be Gen. Jonn H. Palmer of Miinois (Union) and Gen. John B. Gordon of Georgia (confederate), At $ o’ciock in evening, at Chattanooga, the exere.ses be conducted by the Society of the Army of the Tennessee (Union) and the Army of ‘Tennessee (confederate), Gen. Granville M. Dodge presiding. The orators will be Gen. ©. O. Howard (Uniep) and Gen. Joseph Wheeler of Alabama (confederate). On September 20 the dedicatory exercises of the Chattanooga section of the park will begin at noon at Chattanooga. The orators will be Gen. Charles H. Grosvenor of Ohio (Union) and Gen. William H. Bate of Tennessee (confederate). At 8 p.m., at Point Rock, Moentain. be conducted Lookout Chattanooga, exercises will by veterans of the Army of the Potomac (Union) and the Army of Northern Virginia (confederate), Gen. Edward C. Walthal. of Mississippi (confederate) presiding. The will be Gen. Orlando Smith and Gov. William C. Oates of Alabama. Gen. W. S. Rosecrans, who commanded the Union forces at Chickamauga, {s in California, too ill and feeble to bear the journey to Chatianooga. Gen. James B. Longstreet, who commanded the confederate left wing at Chickamauga, and Gen. A. P. Scewart, one of his brigade commanders, will be present and take part in the celebration. Ohio's Monuments. On September 18, “he day before the be- ginning of the official ceremonies, the Ohfo monuments in the park, fifty-five in num- ber, will be dedicated and t the United States government. Other states besides Ohio, Including Michigan, and Missourt, will also transfer thei ments to the government derieg the week. Ac 3 p.m. of that day, at Cha nooga, will occur the annual reunion of the Society of the Army of the Cumberland with Gen. lerson of Ne- braska as orator. hickamauga and Chattanooga National Military Park ‘s the ‘grandest reservat’on of its kind in the world. The United States government has t on it $750,000 since Its establishment ed over to w authorized in 1 and various state governments about $500,000 more, making 4 total of $1,225,000. Tae plan was to re- 4d Hines of the Chickamauga Work of the Sintes. It has been left to the states having had } Sees in the battles to erect monuments regiments and batteries, and to the mil- itary societies and the larger organizations, such as corps, divisions and brigades, to erect their own monuments. Nine hand- seme nite monuments, all different, to the United States regulars, have been set up by the government, at a cost of $1,500 each. Eight pyramidal monuments, each ten feet high, constructed of eight-inch sheils, have been erected to mark the spots where brigade commanders on each side were killed. Snedgrass House and Battery I. Of the ten square miles constituting the area of the park, something over 5,000 acres are forest, and about 1,000 acres open farmS. A central driveway, connecting the Chickamauga and Chattanooga ends of the park, and passing through and overlooking all the heavy fighting ground, has been | buitt, twenty miles long. The Chattanooga Campnicn. In the summer of 1863 General Rosecrans had maneuvered General Bragg from Tulla- homa to Chattanooga. In September Eragg was in the latter city. Rosecrans wanted to get into the city, so he made a movement to the southwest as if to invade Georgia. Bragg bit at the bait and fell back to Lafayette. Rosecrans then slipped back and took Chattanooga. Rosecrans mi: teek Bragg’s rear movement for a retreat, d been heavily turned upon the Union ferces, aud they met at Chickamauga, a creek, the Indian name of which means “River of Death.” There on September i9 and 20 was fought one of the bloodiest battles of history. Rosecrans had 55,000, Bragg 70,000 men. The battle began at 10 2.m. on the 19th and tasted all day. Most of the fighting was on the Union left, held by “Pap” Thomas. Brigade after brigade went against him, but at night he was still there. During the night both sides corrected their lines, The middle of the forenoor of the 20th saw the renewal of the battle. Barly in the day the center and right were routed, and only Thomas held his place. Against him the full confederate army was turned. The entire afternoon was thus passed. Longstreet charged him cighteen times. Thomas did not budge till midnight, when he fell back in good order to rejoin the fragments in Chattanoogu. So great was the carnage that a pond ieee ran red was called thereafter Bloody pond. General Grant succeeded Rosecrans, and & month later ordered a general attack on the confederates, who held the heights around Chattanooga. Hooker swept them eff Lookout mountain among the clouds, and the main line, ordered to take only the rifle pits at the base of Missionary Ridge, discbeyed orders, and went up on the slope, driving Bragg off in full retreat. At Point Leokout. ° Among the interesting sights around Chattanocga that will stir the veterans’ blood 1s Point Rock. On the morning of November 24, 1863, after Hooker had de- feated the confederates on Craven's Farm, the eighth Kentucky regiment scaled the bluff and planted the Union flag on this rcck. Previous to this it had been occupied by the confederates as a signal point. This is the only point in America where seven siates can be seen at once; they are Georgia, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, Virginia, North Carolina and South Caro- Ina. Gecrge Bancroft, the eminent his- torlan, at the age of elghty-seven, stand- ing on Point Lookout, said of ft: “In all my travels I have never seen any scene +o exceed its sublime grandeur.” The river forms the Indian Mocassin in its windings about the city, and is 1,700 feet wide di- rectly beneath the rock. The views from Lookout are not surpass- ed anywhere in the world. Chattanooga smiles back from the plain below, and the beautiful Tennessee river twines around her glittering arms of silver. Lookout reaches a height of 2,300 feet above sea level. Strength of the Armies. Here is the division of the forces by states: CHICKAMAUGA—ROSECRANS. Int. Cav. Art. Total. 24 8 s at - 3 5 a3 oon . oe 1 stg j ne 17 4 2 8 1 - 1 2 2 - 1 3 a $ 10 55 18 1 6 . 4 ise in. . & } 8 o Totals... -129 18 83 182 BRAGG. Int. Cay. Art. Total. Alabama 23 5 8 36 ma 1 a 18 L 4 *s 5 5 i 6 2 1 24 5 2 3 i ; a 3 2 2 4 oy 5 7 i 8 38 a 38 2 1 13 1 3 21a CHATTANOOGA—GRANT. TInt Cav. Art.. Total. 10 55 Indiaai 31 . 3 34 Towa 10 1 il n 1 “s 1 oy i 12 Massachusetts. 1 oe 1 Michigan. . 4 1 Se 6 Minnesota. a - % 3 Missourt. mee ne E 7 New re} a 3 . os 1 New York. -M 5 18 Ohio. . :@1 4 @9 - 10 . 12 : 1 1 1 oe 1 7 3 10 1 4 i 360281 Cay. Art. Total. 5 8 1 3 it “. 1 6 “ 5 50 | 8g 9 i 7 . te 1 1 | Missouri as 2 2 | Missiesippt. “s 4 19 | North Onrotina i ag 3 South Carolina. ss z 15 Tennessee. ii 7 Er | Texa 2 1 2 Vv 5 7 5 Totals, < 46 These figures show how heavily had been reinforced. manuga made a total of 30,000 in kilied and 3 A congressional committee re- Grant The losses at Chicka- the average 1 the troops were fully fons of the lines suff oper cent of los: This park cetehration will be tered into by the confederates without the humiliation of Gettysburg and Shiloh, as they won the battle of Chickamauga. IN OLD VIRGINIA Ina Region That Teems With His- torical Interest. OLD RECORDS OF THE COLONIES A Market House Made From a Sycamore Tree. FINE. SPORT FOR SUMMER Correspondence of The Evening Star. URBANNA, Va, Sertember 12, 1895. OUR DAYS IN THE week at 4:30 in the afternoon a steamer leaves the Weems wharf, in Baltimore, sails down the Patap- sco, past ship yards, vessels of every size and shape, floating flags of afl nations, and past Fort Mc- Henry, still sur- mounted by the stars and stripes, which eighty-one years ago ~.aucis Scott Key to write that stirring and world-renowned hymn, “The Star Spangled Banner;” past all these in- teresting ard instructive sights out into the Cheasapeake bay. On the deck of a vessel the traveler is fanned by soft breezes and enjoys, if it be clear, a glorious star- lit night on the broad expanse of water. ‘The steamer steers her course to the mouth of the Rappahannock and then up this river between the yellow cliffs of Virginia. Toward 5 o'clock the next morning at a distance of twenty miles from the bay, the wharf of Urbanna, one of the oldest set- tlements in the old dominion, is reached. This quaint village of Middlesex county Was founded in 1682, the same year with Philadelphia, and is said to have been originally laid out upon a désign similar to that of the “city of brotherly love.” After Jamestown it was the most import- ant importing town in Virginia. There was direct trade between Liverpool and Ur- banna, and the old brick house is still standirg in which a great wholesale trade was carried on, goods being furnished to retail merchants up and down the Rappa- hannock, from Fredericksburg, at the head of navigation, down to the mouth of the river. Historic Memories. Urbanna is also a place of historic in- terest. The ancient records of the county o* Middlesex, which are still in existence, certain in a queer old volume, bound in sheep and now yellow as gold with age, the following order of the county court of Mid- dlesex: RBANNA, Middlesex county, Va., “July 4, 1672. “At the court held for the county of Middlesex cn the fourth day of July, in the year of our Lord 1672. Present, the Hon. Christopher Robinson, chief justice, and Thomas Trice, Rebert Barrick, Zachery Street and Walter Healey, associate jus- uces: “It appearing to the court end having been duly proven that John Stiff and Penel- ope Perkins did in high contempt of his majesty’s authority tie and fasten to a dog’s tail his majesty’s warrant of Hue and Cry against Thomas Jones, it is therefore ordered that the said John Stiff be taken to the public whipping post of this county and that thirty-nine lashes well laid on be put upon his bare back, but that Penelope Perkins, in considera- tion of her sex, at the same time and place have twenty lashes well laid on her bare back. The sheriff will execute this order immediately.” So these old records, written in a remark- able chirography, show that the spirit cf resistance to British authority and of civil liberty first arose in the old county of Middlesex, Virginia, long before the Declaration of Independence, long before the Boston tea party, and long before Patrick Henry was born. A Marvel of a Market. There is als» at Urbanna the most archaic and quaint market house on rec- ord. The building is at least two hun- dred years old and is made of wood. It is circular, elgtty feet in height, sixteen feet in circumference and is of a style of architecture that cannot be imitated by any architect on the globe. It once took fire, burned for four days and nights, and so far from being consumed, it was greatly improved. These facts may appear start- ling, but they are literally true, as the market house of Urbanna is an enormous sycamore tree with a hollow in it large enough te accommodate several people. It took fire in the hollow inside from the spark of an old negro woman's pipe, and all the dead wood, insects and vermin that would in time have destroyed the tree were consumed. Several well-known lawyers and jurists were born and reared near Urbanna, among whom may be mentioned John Grimes, Robert Montague, who was at one time Heutenant governor of Virginia, and Christopher Robinson. This town was also the home of Philip Grimes, the friend of Jefferson, who appointed him attorney gen- eral of the territory of Louisiana. It was my good fortune to be visiting Ur- banna at the time that the negroes were holding their annual protracted meeting. Those religiously inclined, decked out in bright-coiored ribbors and laces, assembled at the meeting house early in the morning and did not “disperse until late at night, except to enjoy their midday meal in the church yard. Those who were specially seeking or “getting religion” occupied the nreurners” bench, directly in front of the pulpit, and sat during the services with bowed heads. During the sermon and prayer the congregation manifested their approval at times by some such exclama- tion as “Just right!” “Keep on!’ “Good Lord!” and tien again by weirdly chanting some hymn. During the day it was not an unusual occurrence for several of those present to become converted or “get hap- py,” as It 1s called by them, and when thus moved they would immediately juf&p from their seats and begin a round of vigorous hand-shaking with every one in the church, at the same time muttering some words about “de goodness of de Lord.” In sev- eral cases the converts were so wrought up with excitement as to become unconscious. A Baptism in the River. Sunday morning after the protracted meeting was over was the appointed time for baptism in the Rappahannock river. The witnesses gathered on the shore and, after a short address by the pastor, re- minding his congregation of the solemnity of the occasion, a hymn was chanted, the words being sung at the dictation of the pastor, then the converts were led out into a few feet of water and there immersed. The Rappahannock river Is flve miles wide at Urbanna, and its waters afford splendid opportunities for sailing, rowing, fishing, crabbing and salt-water bathing. Early one morning a party of us sailed a few miles up the river to see what fish had been caught in the pound within twenty-four hours. It was a sight long to be remember- ed to view 400 salt-water trout, in addition to innumerable sun and toad fish and crabs, which had been ensnared by this labyrinth of nets. On account of the sea nettles and crabs the water for bathing purposes is incloséd by boards, placed just near enough to- gether to exclude them and still allow a constant flow and change of water. The depth varies with the tide, and the tem- perature is at all hours agreeable. In addition to the sports afforded by the water, there are delightful drives in the neighborhood of Urbanna. The roads are shaded by trees of every variety—walnut, chestnut, locust, elm, spruce and pine tr are seen growing side by side, and here an there are patches of flowers, “unmatched for tint and loveliness.” Now and then a picturesque pond,. reminding one of an English lake, comes into view. Leaving Urbanna, the river gradually rarrows as you ascend it, and at frequent intervals on either side are wharves, where the boat stops to land and receive passen- gers and freight. Just before Frederic burg Is reached, at a distance of one hun- dred miles from the bay, the two shores of the river so nearly meet that there is barely room enough’ for the steamer to wind her way in ang out between them. National Landmarks. Fredericksburg is Sf national interest as being the scene of one of the great battles of the civil war. Marye’s Heights, where tke confedarate forces were intrenched to meet the Union trootk coming from the op- Posite bank of the’ fiver, two cemeteries, Union and confedefate, where sleep the thousands slain in the great battle, and houses riddled by shot and shell, still bear witness to the bloody conflict. In this in- teresting old town the unpretentious home of Mary Washington a small frame house, still stands, and pet far away rises a simple white stone shaft, some fifty feet in height, with the friscription, “Mary, the Mother of Washington,” the only public monument ever erected to a woman in this country, as we were informed by our guide; Within a few steps are the rocks where Mary Washington would sit at evening to watch the sunset when on a visit to her daughter, Mrs. Fielding Lewis, whose pala- tial mansion is still standing and wonder- fully well preserved. In no state of thé Wnion area more hos- Pitable and generous people to ba found than in Virginia. The custom of “welcom- ing the coming and speeding the parting gues,” still prevails, and properly accred- ited Strangers are received with the same open-heartedness as old friends. ELINOR WILSON. —— POETRY APPRECIATED. There is Still a Market for Verse. From the New York Telegram. Seven men, all connected with the stage in one way or another, sat about a table yesterday afternoon In a cafe under one of the Broadway theaters. They were con- suming cooling drinks, and discussing their individual sufferings from overwork, when William Selph, the poet, entered. At the time he entered the other seven were un- aware that he was William Selph or that he was a poet, and it was not until ne handed his card about that they were cog- nizant of his identity. Willlam was a well dressed, good looking man of about thirty- five years, but he walked on the stumps of his legs, both of which had been amputated above the knee, and depended upon crutches for additional support. He swung himself up to the table by means of these crutches, and handed each of the men a card. If the man refused to take it, William calmly laid it down on the other's knee or arm; and having supplied the seven, without speak- ing a word, he moved off a distance of three feet from the table and waited in silence for developments, Besides his name. William Selph’s card contained one of his poems, which proved to be of an auto- biographical nature, one verse running thus: Read carefully the lines beneath, To hear what I have to say. To work I went cne morning On a bright and sunny day; In an hour I was a cripple, And when I laid down that night *Twas upon an operating table, Beneath the surgeon's knife. The seven men all regarded the cards un- eesily without reading them, each one visi- bly embarrassed. None of them said a word and neither did the poet. Finally one of the seven dropped his card on the floor. He picked it up hastily, and, to relieve his embarrassment, read the poem. The other six followed his example, and William still waited in silence. Then one man feit in his waistcoat pocket, whereupon William moved up to the table. The other drew forth a dime and handed it to William with the card. Each one of the pther six immediate- ly felt in his own aecket and each handed back the card to Willfam with ten cents. One man, who at frst had only given five cents. brought forth another five when he noticed what the others gave. Then Wil- liam Selph, without Having said a word since he entered the tafe, swung himself through the door with the aid of his crutches. The seven men locked at each other and grinned.’ They agreed that Wil- Mam had a pretty good thing, and that he knew how to work it. If he had asked cne of them to buy the poem he would, in all probability, have heen’ refused; and, one man having refuséd, the other six would have done so also, just as the other six fol- lowed the example of’ the man who do- nated the first dime. By keeping still and throwing the responsibility for the first move upon the others, William Selph show- ed that he had studiel human nature to some advantage. It is safe to preditt that his dally profits are ‘considerable, since he was able to get seventy cents in less than five minutes from seven theatrical mon be- fcre the season has fairly begun. +2 DO FISH FEEL PAIN?. Experience Rather Points te the Af- firmative as the Correct Answer. From Outing. I have observed freshly landed fish to execute certain movements which seemed to indicate that the fish felt something; mebbe it wasn’t pain. It may have been simply agony, or any old thing like that. Those who used in their younger days to carry in their trousers pocket a cork stuck full of hooks may remember occa- sions when » hook worked free from the cork. Once I accidentally hooked a pointer dog by the ear, and the language he used and the way he ran out line con- viriced me that he felt something. He may have felt only a pleasant sensa- tion, but he didn’t come within fiffy fect of me for two hours. ‘The desperate sagging back and zigzag resistance of a hooked fish, the wild flip-flaps and straining gasps of a freshly landed fish may be evidences of pleasurable sensations, but I am tempted to consider them as closely allied to that joyous thrill which prompts a man to rise above the insidious caress of a strong, well-bent pin. “Do fish feed at night?” “Well, well—do fish swim? Country boys, how about the big fire beside the water? How about the boy who got first to the big boom and thus secured the boss place? How about the spiky-finned channel cats and mud eats that came up two at a time; the goggle-eyed rock bass, special prizes; the Rideous ‘mud puppies,’ which at once went into the fire along with a yard of Ene? How about the night lines? How about everything connected with the sport that used to get better and better as mid- night approached, untii the glorious fun and occasional profanity were interrupted by the sound of the ‘old man’ falling foul of a wire fence or breaking a gad from the plum tree up the bank? Do fish teed at night? I dunno—they used to. —-——-+e+ DEEDS TO THE PEWS. How Church Seats Were Disposed of in the Olden Times. Frem the Richmond Disputeh. Sixty-seven of the pages in deed-book No. 12, formerly in the hustings court, but now constituting a part of the chan- cery court records, are printed forms of a deed for church pews. Forty-seven of these deeds are filled in and attested by the clerk, and twenty are left blank, with a notice by the clerk that they were bound in the volume by mistake. These deeds are dated July 30, 1816, and are for pews in the First Presbyterian Church, then oc- cupying the site of the Randolph paper- box factory, Franklin street. These instru- ments would make it appear that the con- gregation was then ,,newly established there. The amounts called for by the leasws range between $24) and 3550, and the papers are signed, by Alexander Fulton, John Seabrook. William Rowlett and John Parkhill, trustees, Other deeds in writing follow the printed pnes, and are made to the trustees named above. All these deeds Tease the pews “for and during, and unto the full end and te®#m of nine hundred and ninety-nine years, thence next ensuing and fully to be complete and ended; and there- after this lease to be renewable forever.” William Wirt, ofe of the pew-holders, ywas afterward’ attorney general of the United States, and ranked among the most distinguished lawyers of the country. ——___+-e+—___—_. Wit From Hawaii. From the Times, Honolukt. She was a demure, matroaly little wo- man, without a suspicion of humor in her make-up, and this was her second visit to the islands. He was a middle-aged, hand- some man, of splendid physique, who had jaid over a trip from the through steamer to “do” the voicano. They were in the Hilo “Do you know,’’ hi is one thing that you n ful about when ¢ “tn * he chat ts t “Never swallow And the Engh so ubsorbed in try: the Joke that he at thinking they were “that there y care- tones, the stone,” she replica. man near the door wes to see the pr six Chill radishes. * STORIES FOR BOYS A HEAD FOR BUSINESS. BY JOHN HABBERTON. ~- (Copsright, 1895.) If there is a business star anywhere In the firmament, Frank Quickling must have been born under it, for from the time he got out of short skirts and into short trous- ers he manifested a keen interest in what- ever might improve the quantity and qual- ity cof his possessions. This of itself was not strange, for the boy who doe: long for more of whatever he chances to like and who doesn’t want it better is hard to find outside of the lower levels of a ceme- tery. Bui Frank's wits were as active as his longings, so when he failed to get what he wanted the reason was generally to be found in some blunder for which the inex- perience of youth was to blame. To think, in Frank’s case, was to act. One day he saw a couple of little Italians playing violins in front of houses and collecting pennies from the householders; within an hour he himself was scraping his father’s violin in front of other houses, and doing it so badly that he received, in all, a pocket full of pennies to stop playing. True, when his parents learned what had occurred they made him contribute the whole amount to the Sunday school mis- sionary fund, and his mother made calls @aily for a week to explain to her acquaint- ances that she and her husband felt al- most too mortified to live; still, Frank did not foresee all this, and thought it a sad waste of time. Then he started for him- self in the bootbiacking line at a street corner and did quite a business until ied home by the ear by an unbusinesslike uncle. Warned that he must restrain his busi- ness instincts and exercise them only for fun, he went into trading for marbles, and did it so well that the other boys of his age soon had to stop playing marbles, for they had none left to play with. Then he tried trapping birds. He had heard that a bird could be caught by putting salt upon his tail, so Frank’s traps were so arranged that no bird could enter without getting a tiny shower of salt upon his tail feathers; he would have got lots of birds, too, if he had not trusted to the salt alone while ar- ranging his traps. One day he saw two boys trying to catch a squirrel that had run into a hollow tree; one bey held a bag over’the hola at the top, while the other stood at the bottom to keep the animal from escaping in that di- rection. The boys had stood still until they were tired, but when Frank picked up a big stone and hammered vigorously on the tree trunk Master Squirrel popped out of the hole at the top and into the bag, and Frark claimed and was allowed a third in- terest in the squlrrel, with the privilege of keeping him at his house throuch one week of every three. : ‘That third Interest in the squirrel was an unending source of comfort to Frank, for all the other small boys who came to Icok at the animal's antics coveted Frank's rights in the ownership, and offered so many different things in exchange for it that Frank’s small head was jammed to its uttermost curve with business oppor- tunities. But none of the offers were en- tirely satisfactory; Frank wanted some- thing that had a future o it, and one day he determined what it should be. He want- ed to go into the chicken-ratsing business, for his parents paid very high prices for eggs that were absolutely fresh, and as Frank, at the age of eight years, knew enough of arithmetic to figure out the futures of things, he saw, as Plainly as figures could show it, that there was a mint of money in the chicken business. He did not confine himself to eggs, for according to his ciphering a dozen eggs brought only 4S much money as a single chicken, where- as a single chicken could be evolved from one eg, if a setting hen could be persuaded to coddle it for three weeks. The longer he figured the more plainly he Saw that the only thing that stood between him and the beginning of a fortune was setting hen. His own parents did not his father had no time to attend to such things, and his mother lack- ed the taste. Still, they had a barn of which no use was made; the kitchen scraps would provide as much food as other peo- ple’s chickens got; all he needed was the hen, so one day he traded his third interest in the squirrel for the loan of a setting hen for three months. He was all right as to eggs, for he borrowed two or three from each dogen his mother purchased. Never before did any setting hen have as ™uch company, or as many hopes heaped upon her insensate back, as the hen near wkom Frank sat during most of his wake- ful hours for the following three weeks> When a chap is day-dreaming it matters little where ke does it, so, although the family barn was old, and stuffy, and dirty, and peopled with the ghosts of half a century of smells, Frank sat in it day by day, and he dreamed until the dingy walls were decorated with pennies and nickels, and dimes, and quarters, and larger coins, with enough greenbacks to make a narrow dado around the entire wall. It is pleasing to record that all the eggs, a dozen in number, hatched, and that each chick was pretty enough to eat alive from the scrap of shell that ad- hered to it for a while. In the meantime, Frank had traded al! of his marbles for the loan of another hen, whose brood came Into peep two weeks later. Frank's parents were as proud as he, and Frank's father wrote to his faycrite news- Frper an eccount of the whole affair, and he changed his paper three days iater ke- carse the account was not published. The chickens grew like weeds, and the family made haste to contract for all the broilers that might mature during the. summer. Frank made a chicken yard behind the barn, being allowed to vse all the spare window screens, bed slats and mosquito nettir gs in the house, as well as the door and sides of the winter storm door; a boy with so good a business head as Frank had was not to lack appreciation and en- couragement. The chickens grew and grew, and one day when some company came unexpected- ly several members of the first brood were used as broilers, and two entire dollars went into Frank’s savings bank, from which they had to be extracted and looked at at least a dozen times a day. Frank’s mother had sald that she wanted only the tenderest crickens to bret}, so the boy had carefully selected the smallest, because they seem>1 the most delicate. They were extremely successful as they lay in their suits of frying-pan trown on a hot dish, with slices of toast for couches, and Frank was hon enough to think, as he ate half of one of them, that he ought to cut down his bill somewhat. More broilers were wanted within a week,and again the small- cst and most delicate of the flock were se- lected; mesrwhile the cash in hand had been reinvested in eggs and setting hens, so the chicken yard became quite full, and the mothers became so numerous that the chicks were not always certain as to the wings beneath which they had the right to scek shelter, At least Frank could not imagine any reason for the quarrels in which the chick- ens frequentiy indulged; it was strange, too, that the hardest fighting was between the largest chickens, that seemed old enough io have some sense, if chickens ever did get sense, which sometimes the boy doubted. Severe means had finally to be resorted to to keep the bigger chicks from fighting, so Frank finally took the most pugnacious specimens from their mothers aud penned them by themselves ever night. They looked next morning as if they were repentant, but the truth was that they had fought until sleeping time and gone at it again in the morning, so a more shabby lot of youngsters had never been seen, except among small boys who had gone west to fight the Indians and had walked hone on the railway ties. * Worse still, the fighting capacity of the chickens imecreased with the demand for broilers, until by the gime the leaves were turning in the autumn and the remaining chickens were almost full grown the entire chicken coop seemed given up to fighting. Frank consulted older beys, some ef whom were no better than they should have been, and these came to advise, but remained to applaud, which did rot help the juvenile chicken raiser to the slightest degree, Frank's own father, when appealed to for say that he did not now anything about the rearing of birds, and that h» believed, on general principles, that anything and everything that lived was happiest when it was having an active rel. mething had to be done, for Frank had ly figured out the profit he was to on the eggs which his chickens would during the winter and spring, when sven the youngest brood would be fully gicwn, and his mother agreed with him that too much exercise and bad temper might not be good for hens that ought some day to be peaceful enough to sit on nests long enough to lay eggs, to say noth- ing of hatching out chickens for them- selves. Frank thought so hard that his face finally became as sober as that of the busiest minister in the village. He leaned acrcss the fence of his chicken yard, and thrust a fishing rod between any two chicks that started to fight, but the pugnacious creatures didn’t mind the pole in the least; they would jump over it, fly over it, creep vrder it, to get at one another. Finally the boy spent most of his cash in hand for wire netting, with which he made fences and cross fences, so that each chick had a yard for itself, but the rascals would peck at one another through the interstices of the netting, and one morning Frank found two of his largest chicks hanging dead in the Wires, having leaped too high and been un- able to get their heads out after having thrust them through. There was no money in that sort of thing; Frank figured a few minutes on his slate ard learned, not entirely to his satis‘action, that at the rate of two dead chickens a day it would take only five and a half days n.cre of fighting to destroy his entire stock; the eleventh chick might be saved by hav- irg no other to fight with, but one solitary chicken would not be a trustworthy source of a winter's supply of eggs and of some new broods in the spring. He consulted the men who drove the wagons of the family’s butcher, grocer and ice man, and finally he discovered a man who said he krew something about chickens. “Guess you-must have been raisin’ game stock,” suggested this authority. on ‘Game siock? What is that?" asked the oy. “Why, it’s the kind of birds that’s raised only for fightin’. Sey, if that's what you've been doin’, I shouldn’t wonder if I could find you some good buyers. There's lots of mains bein’ fought in this county, on the sly, an’ lots of fellers that's lookin’ for the best fightin’ stock.” Frank did not entirely like the idea of selling his chickens for fighting purposes, for he had been brought up to believe that fighting was about the poorest possible use to which to put any sort of creature; still, if they wouldn't do anything else, they might as well fight for business as for nothing, so the man promised to send him some possible purchasers. That afternoon, while the boy was at school, his mother was so frightened at seeing two very hard- lccking characters sneaking about the out- skirts of the place that she telephoned to the police station. Before any one respond- ed there appeared another couple of beings who looked bad enough to do anything wicked; then the two couples began to eye each other, and to slowly approach each other, and all four men began to use lan- guage so bad that Mrs. Quickling made haste to close all the windows to exclude the scund of their voices. It was not long before four sets of fists were being brandished in four faces, and then there was a gereral fight, right in the middle of the road, and Mrs. Quickling telephoned the police station again, and announced that four men were killing one another in front of her house, and she thought It was a disgrace and an outrage that taxpayers had to endure such things while the police did nothing but lounge at the station house and corners along the main street of the village. This appeal had some effect, for in about half an hour three officers—a full half of the local pelice force—hurried toward the house in a wagon. On seeing them the four suspicious characters, all of whom were still alive, hurried away In different directions, and one of the officers went to the house and interrogated Mrs. Quickling, whose face, very pale, appeared at an attic window, and asked her if she wished to make a complaint against any one in par- ticular. Of course the good woman could not specify any of the bad characters by neme, and the officer complained that there had been a great deal of fuss about nothing, and that the trip had cost the department a dollar for the use of the wagon to carry away the remains of the men who were reported as being killed, and that it was such false alarms that were making a policeman’s life a mere dog's life, and Mrs. Quickling retorted ibat such an alarm as she had endured was to make a woman's life not worth living, upon which the police department went away. No sooner were the officers out of sight than back sneaked the four disrepu- table characters, again grouping them- selves by twos, and shouted uncompli- mentary things to each other, upon which Mrs. Quickling flew again to the telephone, while up the street came Frank, saunier- ing home from school. “Say. little feller,” said one of the hard- looking characters, sneaking up to Frank, “Is it you that’s got some fightin’ stock to sell?” es," said Frank. ‘Say, young feller,” bawled another of the men from across the street, “don’t do no bizness with that bloke. He'll shove bad money on yer.” “Ah, git out,” was the reply. “Our money's as good as the Bank of England, but look out for them crooks over there, sonny; they’d steal your chickens if we wasn’t here to purtect yer.” “It was a trying situation for a small but business is business, kK tomer to the chicken coop. looked it over and asked: “Where's de games?" ‘he what?" ‘De games—de fightin’ stock de ice man said was on de market.” “Why, here they are. They fight almost all the time; you just ought to see them. I guess they’re tired, or sleepy, or some- thing just now, but you stay here a while and watch them, and you'll see—" “Ah, me eye interrupted the man, roll- ing his Hps cutward and thrusting his hands in his pockets and dropping his head and slinking out cf the yard. Frank fol- lowed him, saying: “If you please, sir, don't you think per- haps the other man would buy them?” “What fur? To eat? That's all they’s good for. Ther's no fightin’ blood in a bloomin’ one of "em." ‘Dear me! Then, what’s the reason, do you suppose, that they really do fight al- mest all the time?” “De reason? Why, it’s ‘cause de hull lot of ‘em’s roosters—dat's why.” Then, threatening to “take it out of dat ice man,” the fellow went away, followed by the others. When next the ice man called, Frank had a long talk with him, and the man took a look at the chickens, and said that the fellow in search of game cocks had told the truth. He said also that he never before had seen chicken broods with no young hens among them, and he wondered so long and asked so many questions that he was finally enabled to explain that by killing the smallest and most delicate for drollers, Frank had Killed all the female chicks, and that the best he could do with the remainder would be to sell them to the butcher, for roosters could never be persuaded to lay eggs or hatch chickens. It was a severe blow to Frank, for it en- tirely upset all his calculations for the win- ter and early spring. Still, he came cut of the operation several dollars ahead, and when his father heard the whole story, he promised Frank a good start at chicken raising in the spring, for, said he: | “A boy who can make several dollars in a single season by trading a third in- interest in a squirrel for the loan of a set- ting hen has surely a head for business.” see PARIS STREET SINGING. The man Mile. Buffet as She -Appea Troubadouring. From St. Paul's. Mile. Eugenie Buffet, a leading singer of the Paris cafe-chantants, has had a re- markable career. In her sixteenth year, she, In company with her mother and an aunt, reached the capital with only her courage and voice to aid her. Being an Algerian, and the daughter of an officer, she went to the then minister of war, Gen. Boulanger, who heard her story, smiled, twisted his mustache, wrote something on @ paper, and told her to “remettiez cela al’ hvissier,” then conducted her out of the room, as though she had been a duchess; at the huissier she received 200 francs, and she did not forget her benefactor. During the official Inauguration of the 1889 exhibi- tion she cried “Vive Boulanger!” under the nose of M. Carnot, and went to St. Lazare prison for fifteen days. Her sympathy for the poor Is ever great, and some time ago she, along with other cafe-chantant artists, attired themselves in the garb of the street singers, and sang {n every quarter of Paris, With the result that 9,000 francs were ob- tained. After a short rest, by the doctor's crders, her companions and she have again taken to street singing In the cause of the poor, and great success is awarding their commendable efforts. Se An O11 Canary. The canary “Bliss,” belonging to Mr. Samuel Lybrand of Delaware, Ohio, died the ether day at the extreme age of twen- ty-five years. This was probably the-oldest canary {!n Ohio. Mrs. Lybrand has had home for elghteen years. her the singer was While y and reliable d the above may be relied upon. |IN LOCAL STUDIOS Quite a stir of intcrest and excitement Wes occasioned Iast week by news of the wedding of Miss May Min-iigerode to Prof. E. F. Andrews, both well-known and popu- lar members of the local fraternity of artists. The tmarriage was quietly cele- brated in London last Saturday, and hap- Pily terminates a long and well-tried friend- ship. The bride was the medalist of 1899. She is young and talented, and since 1590, when the Corcoran Art School was first established, she has been an efficient as- sistant to Prof. Andiews in his charge of Miss Minnegerode. that insitution. During the past two years she has made a specialty of studies in the different branches of art fer the purpose of introducing them into the school, and has carried out her undertaking with signal energy and success. Prof. Andrews and his work are familiar to all Washingtonians. His large canvas of Martha Washington, which has long hung in the east room of the White House, and the life-size portrait of “Dolly” Madi- son—recently removeq from the same room and sent with the Washington exhibit to Atlanta—are some of his most representa- tive work. we Mr. and Mrs. Andrews will sail from Southampton tomorrow on the steamer Saale, and will arrive in New York on the 23d hi stant, returning to this city in time for the opening of the Corceran School, October 1. . o%e A good deal of conjecture is going en as to the probable successor to the position of assistant instructor in the Corcoran School of Art, the place being practically vacant. As yet ro steps have been taken to supply it, and the choice of a co-worker will, so far as ascertained, be left to Prof. An- drews’ selection. With the exception of a few weeks spent in the Katskill mountains early In the sea- son, Robert Hinckley has been working quietly in his studio all summer, and to show for his industry has a number of large canvases, among the most striking of which are a full-length, life-sized portrait of Miss Gwyn, a composition illustrating Prof. Andrews. Browning’s poem, “Andrea del Sarto,” and a well-handled portrait of Secretary Endi- cott, which has been sent to Salem, Mass., where it will be placed in the court house. ote Le Grand Johnston is spending some time at Fort Foote, making studies, finishing canvases and in other ways preparing for his exhibition, which will be among the first held this season. ote Henry J. Ellicot has completed his cast model of the equestrian statue of Gen. Hancock and has shipped it to the bronze foundry in Cornecticut, from which place the finished bronze will be returned early in December, ready for erection on the site selected for it. In addition to putting final touches to this splendid piece of work, the sculptor has recently modeled and cast a number ef figures, which will form a prom- inent feature of the exhibit sent by the Na- tional Museum to the Atlanta exposition. A. G. Heaton is still in the Blue Ridge mountains, where he is camping with @ large party of artists and friends. ote Miss S. W. Kelly has returned from the sketching tour upon which she has spent @ large part of the summer, and is working on a full length portrait of Cardinal Gib- bons ordered for the Bon our convent in Baltimore, where it will be placed as a companion to the canvas of Mons. de Sui- lein painted by the same artist last winter. ove Miss Sara E. Bradley is at Kittery Point, Maine, where she has spent the past two months making a collection of sketches of New England landscape and flowers, Hobart Nichols has just returned from @ two weeks’ visit to Ocean City, with marine studies and sketches to be used as memo- vanda for work on a large canvas com- menced last season. This is the most am- bitious subject in both character and dl- mensions that Mr. Nichols has as yet tempted. It is probable that when finished this canvas will prove the artist’s principal exhibit during the winter, although a num-* ber of smaller and less elaborate subjects show the sympathetic qualities and careful study which characterize all his work. . ote Wells M. Sawyer ts still in his studio at Riverdale, Md., and expects to remain un- til late in the fall ee Some clever work is being done by B. Lamasure in anticipation of the exhibition he expects to hold just before Christmas. Later in the season he will remove his studio to New York, and for a time will make his home in that city, returning iu season for the Cosmos and other spring exe hibitions. ae ’ Carl Weller is spending the month of September at Gloucester, Mass., and is devoting his time to water-color work, with most satisfactory results. . oe Miss Lillian Cook has removed her studio from the Corcoran building and is now established in winter quarters at 620 17th street. oe Miss Mamie Stone is working on an In- teresting series of portraits in oil, two of the best being of Mr. and Mrs. Castelle of Capitol Hill. The artist Is a graduate of the Corcoran Art School, and is well and favorably known among the younger artists. pee Laying in Provisions, From the Harrisburg Telegraph, “Well, I see the sandwich restaurant has bought the worn-out machinery of the Col- lars and Cuffs Laundry Company?” “What can they want with the ma- chines?” “Oh, they take the rubber off the wringers and make it into chicken salad.”