Evening Star Newspaper, January 25, 1896, Page 22

22 MUST KNOW IT ALL A Brief Experience in a Railroad Depot Bureau of Information. HUMAN NATORE CAN BE STUDIED Questions of Every Description Asked and Frequently Answered. SOME QUEER INCIDENTS O FF IN THE SOUTH- west corner of the waiting room of the Gth street depot is a little office or box that contains a man who “knows it all,” or is supposed to. A small, plainly painted sign over the opening, which allows free conversation with the man within, reads, “Bureau of Informa- tion,” but from the variety of questions asked one would sup- Pose it was a fortune teller’s office or mind Teader’s habitation. A Star reporter chanced that way during the busy hours of a day the past week, and for the want of something else to do en- Gaged the Solomon behind the glass parti- tion in conversation. “Is the day express on time?” asked the reporter. “Yes, of course. It's on the board there,” the young man replied, and then for the first time the reporter noticed a neat blck- board displaying the time of the arrival of a number of trains, showing whether they ‘were on time or late. “Does that board heip you much?” the re- porter asked. “Not a great deal,” was the answer. “People come here to ask questions and they'll keep at it if that blackboard was ten feet by twenty instead of one foot two and contained al! the information they wanted.” ‘The reporter then introduced himself, and gfter a little jollying, persuaded the much- @bused information man to talk. “My work? Oh, I like it well enough. I f= up a good jeb on the road for it, and (RFOR Mg, H) "7 hve no kick coming. The hours are a little ng, but that is on account of being housed wp Wha! makes fiuestions I've got t for the purp2se of 2 weary of life is the wer. Iam put here | ering questions bear- tng directly on < tar'road, but three peo- i out of five :1ink T am the latest edition @ the encyciepecia. Curious Information Wanted. y busiest hows or minutes are between trains. Then the people lounging about the @i:ting room decide upon killing time, and think there is no better way than to rush wp here and ask useless questions. During the racing seasor at St.. Asaph and Old Do- minicn tracks I have had men and women frequently come to me for ‘tips,’ and on two different occasions men have placed their watches and diamond pins with me until they returned from the races. There’s lots ef information in that, and I'm thinking ef making an application for a safe in which to keep valuables. “I believe on an average a thousand questforis ure showered on me in a day's tme. Of course, there are off days when the figures run away dowm; then, again, they go up at a rate that_makes my head spin. You should see me during inaugura- tion days, big conventicns and excursions. Yeu would think I was giving away sand- wiches and coffee free from the manner the crowd was trying to cet at me. “Keep my temper? It’s a case of must. My bread and butter depends on it. Of cvurse I lose patience sometimes, but I generally take refuge in silence. “I have come to the conclysion that the man who undertakes to run a bureau of in- formaticn must be a living encyclopedia of railway matters. That is an absolute ne- He must have all of the trains, their time of arrival and departure at his| tongue’s end; he must know what connec- tions they make all over the country, both ‘with other roads, with steamboats and with Stages; he must know whether they stop at Bowie, Wilmington or Parkton; he must be able to tell the mileage to out-of-the-way places that cnly one person in a thousand ever heard of, and all this information must be given quickly, and, above all, accurately. “I have very little time to consult time table there are usually half a dozen peo- ple waiting at the window to find out some- thing: Then, “in addition, every articie fcund on the trains fs turmed in to me, and I must attend to this part of the work, as well as the answering of questio: Thea people pile up ali sorts of other things on me. Also a Guide to the City. “For instance, strangers want to know all about how to get to various parts of the cicy, so that I have to have all the street car lines and their connections down pat. Outgoing travelers want to know whether it is raining in P' delphia or New York, so I must be a weather prophet. So, you see, I have got to keep my wits about me all the time, for if I once get ‘rattled’ it is ali up with me. A man in such a position naturally becomes a student of human na- ture, and can quickly tell how to handle questioners in the most effective way. If they really want to know something, I can give it to them in the best posSible shape for their own good. If they are asking questions for the fun of the thing, I caa turn them down effectually without giving offense. Of course, my experiences are as varied as the colors of a rainbow. They are humorous and pathetic, annoying and pleas- ant, all mixed up in a day’s work. “Stand by the window a couple of minutes and get a practical jilustration of what I mean.” — excited woman rushes up to the win- low. “Have you seen Mrs. Hopkins in here to- day? She promised to meet me an hour ago, and she isn’t here yet. Don’t know her? Why, she has been traveling on this! read for the last two years.” 3 Off goes the lady in a huff, and another one equally as flurriei hurries up. “Have you found a pocketbook?” she says. “What did it look like?” caimly asks the irformation man. Long description follows. “Where did you lose it, in the train or the station?” “Neither. I must have lost it on the street,-but as I traveled on your road I thought maybe it was sent here.” She was referred to the city detective de- partment. Wanted a Guarantee, A man stopped to ask about trains to Denver. . “Now, it is very important that I get there by 11:30 o’clock Thursday morning,” said { he. The information man mentioned a train that would give him three hours to spare. “Now I want you to guarantee that I'll reach there at that time.” “If you make all connections and there are no delays,” began the information man. “No, that 4s not what I want. I have to be there, delays or no delays. I want you to promise that I'll be there at that time.” “I can’t possibly give you that. I can only tell you whee you will arrive, barring acci- shaps.”” “All right,” said the man, in wrath. “I'll Teport you fur not giving patrons of the road the information they want.” A very common question asked at the bureau is “What time does the 4:20 train leave?” This always receives the same answer, “4:20.” - A colored family want to go to a place in the south. They are evidently spending a great deal of money on the trip. “Sey, boss,” said the head of the house, “does y’ know whether it’s gwine to rain in Atlanta, sah, durin’ the comin’ week?” Even the bureau of information man was staggered by this question and he had to edmit that he couldn’t give the weather that far ahead. “Theatrical people are my best friends,” resumed the information man to the report- ér, after the latter had enjoyed a hearty laugh and offered sympathy. “They are al- ways in good humor and great jolliers. Ev- ery now and then a bright young fellow or Jady will ask me a question that would stag- ger a Solomon, and then laugh heartily at ‘ty rerplexity. ‘They Are Good-Natured. “Come in here any Sunday morning and _. . ‘THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 26, 189 watch them troop in and out. I catch them. going end coming. The trainmen around the depot all enjoy the gatherings of these peo- ple that take place Saturday night and Sun- day morning, not only on account of that Strange desire that every one seems to pos- sess to see theatrical people off the stage, but also because thi8 class of travelers are generally good-natured, and often relieve the monotony with a lively kind of fun, which is most enjoyable to us railroad ple. It is not often that a railroad enjoys a hearty laugh, you know. man peo | Mr. THE RIDE BY NIGHT: = CARRYING THE: MESSAGE See From Old Man Savarin and other Stories. By Edward William Thomson. Adam Baines is a little gray about the temples, but still looks so young that “Early last fall several large boxes re- | few could suppose him to have served in mained all day Sunday on the platform near | the civil war. Indced, he was in the army the baggage and the platform was filled with passengers and those who had come to meet friends and cars. It was a pleasant day | less than a year. How he went out of it he told me in some such words as these: speed departing guests. With the usual| An orderly from the direction of Meade’s curiosity numbers of the throng wondered | headquarters galloped into our ‘parade what was in the large square boxes, but to} ground, the knowing ones the red paint gave @| hefore t! suggestion of a circus. While a crowd and straight for the man on guard ‘he colonel’s tent. That was pretty of the wondering people were gazing | late in the afternoon of a bright March day at Woman with a wealth of blonde hair—chem- ical or natural, makes no difference—walked up to the largest of the boxes, followed by a man who carried a covered basket. -She the boxes, a handsome, well-built | in 1805, but the parade ground was all red mud with shallow pools. I remember well how the hind hoofs of the orderly’s gal- loper threw away great chunks of earth as unlocked the lid, and, to the horror of the | he splashed diagonally across the open. crowd, brought out coil by coil a long, slimy- Icoking boa constrictor, that laid its head affectionately on the woman’s hand and stuck its sharp, ugly-looking fangs out in the direction of the crowd. His rider never slowed till he brought his horse to its baunches before the sentry. There he flung himself off instantly, caught up hig saber, and ran through the middle “Then, quick as a flash, an innocent little | Opening of the high screen of sapling pines pink rabbit was taken out of the basket | stuck on end, side by side, all around the and in a twinkle swallowed with a satisfied | acre or so occupied by the officers’ quarters. gulp by the serpent. This dose was repeated The day, though sunny, was not warm, and in a shorter time than it takes to tell it} and nearly all. the men of my regiment the snake chermer had fed the inhabitants | were in their huts when that galloping was of three boxes, locked them up and started | heard. ‘Then they hurried out like bees back to the hotel, leaving the crowd to won- from rows of hives, ran up the ianes be- der and comment. She was on her way to | tween the lines of huts, and collected, each join the side show of one of the big circuses | company separately, on the parade ground then touring the south and had stopped | opposite the officers’ quarters. here over Sunday, not forgetting to call at You see we had a notion that the orderly the station in the afternoon to feed her| had trought the word to break camp. or pets.”” eS A HERO OF THE SOUDAN. five months the Army of the Potomac had been in winter quarters, and for weeks nothing more exciting than vidette duty had broken the monotony of our brigade. Fanning’s Deed Would Have Won | We. understood that Sheridan hac received Him the Victoria Cross. From Tid-Bits. Only those who have been engaged in ac- tive warfare In the Soudan can realize fully to what extent the religious fanati- cism of the -mahdi’s followers will carry then in time of war. Reckless as to death, they rush madly into the thick of the fray. Fearless, bold and resolute is a true de- scription of the Hadendowa iribe of Sou- danese warriors, whose home lies in the wild and mcuntainous districts of the east- ern Soudan. This warlike tribe of warriors had never known what it was to suffer defeat at the hands of an enemy until they received their first check from the British troops at the battle of El-Teb. Many a brave young fellow shed his life’s blood fighting hand to hand with tnis warlike tribe in defense of lis country on the field of battle that day, and many a poor mother at home in Eng- land mourned the loss of the one great joy of her heart, and whose home was left des- olate and bare, now that the beloved one had perished gallantly fighting on the plains of the Souwan. The disastrous de- feats of Hicks Pasha, on the Nile, and the intrepid Baker Pasha, in the eastern Sou- dan, led up to the subsequent events which I am about to narrate. At the battle of El-Teb (February 29, 1884), Col. Barrow and Trumpeter Fanning, 2 young fellow of nineteen years, were leading a wing of the Nineteenth Hussars, in the charge against the Arab forces, who were thea in full retreat, ghen suddenly they were cut off from the main body of the regiment by a superior force of the enemy. Col. Barrow had already been badly wounded in the charge, having been speired through the left arm and sid¢,and was, therefore, powerless to defend himself. Trumpeter Fanning, who was riding by his side, took in the whole situation at a glance, and, quickly dismounting from his horse, stood on the defensive over the body of his fallen colonel, and fought with that indomitable pluck and ¢ourage’ whieh only the British soldier can do when put to the test. Drawing his revolver, and with a de- termined look to do or die upon his manly” young face, he calmly awaited the on- slaught of the savage horde. Not, a shot was wasted. Every bullet had its mark, for Fanning knew orly too well his chances would be small once his revolver was empty. At last the critical moment came and he had fired his-last shot. Drawing his sword he awaited the attack with a firm grip. And now came a terrific hand-to-hand straggle, in which he fought like a lion, until, stabbed in the right arm with a spear, the gallant fellow, through weak- ness and loss of blood, was compelled to re- lnquish his hold upon his sword. Nothing daunted, however, the gallant. trumpeter seized his trumpet with his left hand, and again fought the enemy hand to hand until literally borne tc the ground by sheer force of numbers. Here they fell upon him and hacked his body, with their short stabbing spears aid knives, and lett hita and the colonel for dead upon the field. When we recovered the bodies. they. were taken back to camp. “Here we fotind that Fanning was stabbed in.seventeen: different places, yet, despite this fact, the. gallant fellow Lngered for five days afterward, and died at Victoria Hospital, Suez, where he was buried. Needless to say, had he re- covered from his wounds, he would have received the Victoria cross.for his-bravery. He leaves a widowed mother to mourn his loss. The trumpet, which bore such mute tes- timony by the blocd-stained finger marks in his deathly grasp of the gallant stand made by the heroic youth, was afterward recovered and preserved as a memento by his comrades. Col Barrow afterward died from the effects of his wounds, although not until he had rendered excellent serv- ices on the Nile expedition. a Wunks Coming This Way. From the St. Paul Pioneer Press. Jay Sedgwick of the tax department of the Northern Pacific road of Tacoma was in the city yesterday en route to New York, and had with him a couple of animals b longing to the canine species, the like of which has not been before seen on the con- tinent of North America. He held them in chairs, though the beasts were entirely inof- fensive, and he would not lose sight of them, for they were rare enough to be taken care of. They were “wunks,” a species of dog peculiar to the interior of the continent of Asia, and the first of their kind ever brought té America. The animals are peculiar in that they have faces of bears and the body of the | main road. command of all Grant’s cavalry, but cid not know but the orderly had 1ushed frem Sheridan himself. Yet we awaited the man’s reappearance with intense curiosity. Soon, instead of the orderly, out ran first Heutenant, a small, wiry, long-haired man, named Miller. He’ was in undress uniform—just a blouse and trdusers—and bareheaded. Though he wore low shoes, be dashea through mud and water toward us, in a great hurry. “Sergt. Kennedy, I want ten men at once mounted,” Miller said. “Choose the ten best able for a long ride, and give them the best horses in the company. You under- stand—no matter whose the ten best horses are, give 'em to the ten best riders.” “I understand, sir,” said Kennedy. By this time half the company had start- ed for the stables, for fully half considered themselves among the pest riders. The lieutenant laughed at their eagerness. “Halt; boys!’ he cried. “Sergeant, I'll pick out four myself. Come yourself, and bring Corp. Crowfoot, Private Bader and Private Absalom Gray.” I remained near Kennedy, for I was so young and green a soidier that 1 supposed I had no chance to go. “tiurry up! Parade as soon as vossible. One day's rations; light marching or-ler- no blankets—fetch overecats and pouches, said Miller, turning; ‘‘and, in choosing your men, favor lightweights.” That was, no doubt, the remark which brought me in. 1 was Janky, light, bred among horses, and one of the best in the regiment had fallen to my lot.’ Keanedy wheeled, and his eye fell on me. “Saddle up, Adam, boy; I guess you'll do.” t. Miller ran back to his quarters, his long hair flying wide. When he reap- peared, fifteen minutes later, we were trotting along the parade ground to ineet him. He was mounted, not on his own charger, but on the colonel’s famous thor- P oughbred bay. Then we knew a hard ride must be in prospect. “What! one of the boys?" cried Miller, as he saw me. “He's too young.” “He's very light, sir; tough as hickory. I guess he'll do,” said Kennedy. “Well, no time to change now. Fcllow me! But, hang it, you've got your car- bines! Ob, 1 forgot! Keep pistols only! Throw down your sabers and carbines— anywhere—never mind the mud!” As we still hesitated to throw down our clean guns, he shouted: “Down with them —anywhere! Now, boys, after me, by -twos! Trot—gallop:” Away we went, not a man jack of us knew for where or what. The colonel and officers, standing grouped before regimen- tal headquarters, volleyed a cheer at It was taken up by the whole regimen it was taken up by the brigade; it was re- peated by regiment afier regiment of in- fantry as we galloyed through the great camp toward the left front of the arm’ Red and brazen wus the set of the sun. I remember it well, after we got clear of the forts, clear of the breastworks, clear of the reserves, down the long slope and across the wide ford of Grimthorpe's creck. The lieutenant led by ten yards or so. He had ordered each two to take as much distance from the other two in advance; but we rode so fast that the water from the heels of his horse and frum the hecis of each two splashed into the faves of the following men. From the ford we loped up a hill apest the most advanced infantry pickets, who laughed and chaffed us, asking for locks of our hair, and if our mothers knew we were out, and promising to repert our last words faithfully to the foiks at home. To this day I do not know precisely where we went, nor precisely what for. Soldiers are seldom informed of the nivan- ing of their movements. What I do know is what we did while I was in the ride. As we were approaching dense pine woods the lieutenant turned in his saddie, slacked pace a little, and shout- ed, “Boys, bunch up near me!” He screwed round in his saddle so far that we could all see and hear, and said: “Boys, the order is to follow this road as fast as we can till our horses drop, or else the Johnnies drop us, or else we drop upon three brigades of our own infantry. I guess they've got astray somehow; but I don’t know myself what the trouble is. Our orders are plain. The brigades are supposed to be somewhere on tais road. I gucss we shall do a big thing if we reach those men tonight. All we've got to do is to ride and deliver this dispatch to the general. You all understand?” “Yes, sir! Yes, sir! Yes, sir! “It's necessary you all should. Hark, now! We are not likely to strike the enemy in foree,-but we are likely to run up against small parties. Now, Kennedy, if they down me, you are to stop just long enough to grab the dispatch from -my breast; then away you go—always on the If they down you after you've common dog. One was entirely black, and} got the paper, the man who can grab it the color extended to his mouth, his tongue being as black as though dipped in an ink first is to take it and hurry forward; so on right to the last man. If they down him, well. The other was whitish. The animals | and he’s got his senses when he falls, he’s looked like very woolly Spitz dogs, and were entirely domesticated. They are to the Tartars what the collie is to the shep- berd of Scotland. Of peculiar interest are. they to the northwest, because their kind to tear the paper up, and scatter it as widely as he can. You all understand?” “Yes, sir! Yes, sir!” “All right, then. String out again!” He touched the bay with’ the spur, and have sacrificed their coats for many years | shot ahead. to make the dogskin coats that have been With the long rest of the winter our so much used in the northwest during the | horses were in prime spirits, though most- last half decade. ——___+-e+_____ Know Their Business. From Harper's Bazar. ly_a little too fleshy for perfect condition. 1 had cared well for my horse; he was fast and sound in wind and limb. I was cer- tainly the lightest rider of the eleven. I was still thinking of the probability “Isn't it a pity that forelgn noblemen are | that I should get further on the way than not brought up to some profession or busi- ness?” “They are the best business men in the world. Dil you ever hear of any other men who could make a fortune in one sea- son the way they do?” oe She—“What fur do you think is most fash- | Heutenant with a jonable this season?’ He—“Well, prevalent .here tonight!”—St. Paul's. bare skin seems to be the most | On we flew. Possibly any comrade except the lieutenant, or per- haps Crowfoot and Lader, whose horses were in great shape; I was thinking my- self likely to win promotion before morn- ing, when a cry came out of the darkness ahead. The words of the challenge I was not able to catch, but I heard Miller shout, “Forward, boys!’ We shook out more speed just as a rifle spat its long flash at us from about a hun- dred yards ahead. For one moment I plain- ly saw the squtherner’s figure. Kennedy reeled beside me, flung up-his hands with @ scream, and fell. His horse stopped at once. In a moment the lieutenant had rid- den the sentry down. r Then from the right side of the road a party, who must have been lying round the camp fire that we faintly saw in among the Pines, let-fly at us. They had surely been surprised in their sleep. I clearly saw them as their guns flashed. “Forward! Don’t shoot! Ride on!” shout- ed Miller. “Bushwhackers! Thank God, not mounted! Any of you make out horses with them?” > ‘No, sir! No, sir!” “Who. yelled? Who went down?” “Ke sir,” I cried. “Too bad! Anyone else?” “No, sir. touched in my right arm; but it’s ig,” I said. The twinge was slight; and in the fleshy place in front of my } shoulder. I could not make out that I wag Neate tes Se tien Veta! waaacarcely, perceptil “ Keep up, Adam!” called the kind tone. I remember my delight that he spoke my front name. y the shots had been heard by the party half @ mile‘further on, for they grected us with a vdiley. A horse coughed and BF gieaag down behind me, His rider yelled as me, and saw him-no more, [t upon the group with our pistols, “Forward, men! n't stop to fight!” roared Miller, as he got clear. A rifle was fired so close to my—head that the flame burned my back hair, and ry ears rang for half an hour ojmors. My bay leaped high and dashed aman. In a few seconds I was fairly out of thé scrimmage. How _many of iy comrades had gone down I knew not, nor beside whom I was riding. Suddenly o\fy horses plunged into a hole; his stumbled, the man pitched for- ward and was SS ae Then I heard a shot, the clatter of“hnother falling horse, the angry yell of another thrown rider. On we -went—the relics of us. Now we rushed out of the pine forest into broad moonlight, and I say, two riders between me and the lieutenant—one man almost at my shoulder and anotaer galloping ten yards behind. Bader and Absalom Gray were nearest me. Neither spoke a word till we struck upon a space of sandy road. Then I could hear, far behind the rear mau, a sound of galloping on the hard highway. xt moment we were “They're after us, lieutenant!” shouted Bader. “Many?” He slackcd speed, and we listened. “Only one,” cried Miller. “He's coming fast.” : The pursuer gained so rapidly that we iooked to our pistols again. Then Absalom Gray cried: “It’s only a horse!” In a few moments the great gray of fallen Corp. Crowfoot overtook us, went ahead, and slacked spzed by the lieutenant. “Good! He'll be fr when the sest go down!” shouted Miller. ‘Let tye last man mount the gray!” Suddenly the hoofs of Crowfoot’s gray and the lieutenant’s bay thundered upon a plank road whose hollow noise, when we all reached it, shouid have been heard afar. It took us through wide orchard lands into a low-lying mist by the banks of a great marsh, till we passed through that fog, strode heavily up a slope, and saw the shimmer of roofs under the moon. Straight through the main street we pounded along. Whether it was wholly deserted I know not, but not a human being was in the streets, nor any face visible at the black windows. Not even a Gog barked. I no- ticed no living th’ except some turkeys roosting on a fence and a white cat that sprang upon the pillar of a gateway and thence to a tree. Some of the hcuscs seemed tv hive been rumed by a cannonade. 1 atppose it was one of the places almost destroyed in Will- oughby’s recent raid. Here we thundered, expecting ambush and conflict every mo- ment, while the loneliness of the street im- posed on me such a stiise as might come of galloping through a long cemetery of the dead. Out of the village we went off the planks, again upon sand. I began to suspect that I was losing a great deal of blood. My brain was on fire with whirling thoughts and wonder where all was to end. Out of this daze I came insamazement to find that we were quickly overtaking our Heutenant’s thoroughbred. Had he beea hit In the fray and bled to weakness? 1 only know that, still galloping while we gained, the famous horse lurched forwarc, aimost turned a somersault, and fell on his rider. “Stop— the paper!” shouted Bade: We drew rein, turned, dismounted, and found Miller’s left leg under the big bay’s shoulder. The horse was quite dead, the rider’s long hair lay on the sand; his face was white under the moon! We stopped long igh to extricate him, and he came to his. senses just as we made out that his left leg was broken. “Forward,” he groaned. “What in thunder are you stopped for? Oh, the dis- patch! Here? away you go! Good-bye.” In attending to.Miller we had forgotten the rider, who Had been Jong gradually dropping behind.’ Now, as we galloped a Bader, Absalom Gray, myself and Crowfoot’s riderless horse—i looked behind for that comrade, but he was not to be seen or heard. We three were left of the eleven. : From the loss ef so many comrades the importance of our mission seemed huge. With the speed, the noise, the deaths, the strangeness of the gailop through that for- saken village, the wonder how. all would end, the increasing belief that thousands of lives depended on aur success, and the lenging to win, my brain was wild. A raging desire to be first held me, and I galloped as if in # dream Bader led; the -titierless gray thundered beside hi Absalont rode stirrup, to stirrup with me; he was a veteran of the old war. Where it was that. his sorrel rolled over I do not remember at al. though FE perfectly remember how Absalom sprang up, stag- gered, shoutei, “My foot is sprained!” and fell as I turned to look at him and went racing on. Tin I heard above the sound of our lcofs the voice of the veteran of war. Dewn as. he was, his spirit was unbroken. In the favorite song.of the army his. voice rose clear and gay and piercing: “Hurrah for the Union! Hurrah, boys, hurrah! Shouting the battle cry. of freedom!” We turned our heads and cheered him as we flew, for there was something tndescrib- ably inspiring in the gallant and cheerful lilt of the fallen man. It was as if he flung us, from the grief of defeat, a soul uncon- querable; and I felt the life in me strength- ened by the tore. Old Bader and I for it! He led by a hun- dred yards, and Crowfoot’s gray kept his stride. Was I gaining on them? How was it that I could see his figure outlined more clearly against the horizon? Surely dawn was not coming on! No; I locked around on a world of naked peach orchards, and cornfields ragged with Jast year’s stelks, all dimly lit by a moon that showed far from midnight; and that faint light on the horizon was not in the east, but in the west. The truth flashed on me—I was looking at such an illumination of tie sky as would be caused by the camp fires of an army. “The missing brigade!’ I shouted. “Or a southern division!’ Bader cried. Come on!” ‘Come on!” I was certainly gaining on him, but very slowly. Before the nose of my bay was. beyond the tail of his roan, the wide illuminations had become more distinct; and still not a vidette, nor a pick- et, nor a sound of the proximity of an army. Bader and I now rode side by side, and Crowfoot’s gray easily kept the pace. My horse was in plain distress, but Bader’s was nearly done. “Take the paper, Adam,” he said; “my roan won't go much farther. Good-bye, youngster. Away you go!” and I drew now quickly ahead. Still Bader rode on behind me. In a few minutes he was considerably behind. Per- haps the sense of being alone increased my feeling of weakness. Was I going to reel out of the saddle? Had I lost so much bicod as that? Still I could hear Bader riding on! I turned to look at him. Al- ready he was scarcely visible. Soon he dropped out of sight; but still I heard the laborious pounding of his desverate horse. My bay was gasping horribly. How far was that faintly yellow sky ahead? It might be two, it might be five miles. Were Union or southern soldiers beneath it? @ould it be conceived that no troops of the eremy were between me and it? ic Never mind; my orders were clear. I rode straight of, and I was still riding straight on, magking no increase in the distress of my hav, When he stopped as if shot, staggered, ,fell on his knees, tried to rise, rolled to hip side, groaned, and lay. I was so wealeg equld not clear myself. I remember my gob ; Spur catching in my saddle-cloth as Ltried,to free my foot; then I pitched forward ang fell. Not yet senseless, I glutched at my breast for the dispatch, mganing to tear it to pieces; but ther brain failed, and in full view of the go@l of the night I lay unconscious. ®, jose on my left elbow When I came tt I and looked aroutt. Near my feet my poor bay lay, stone 4 5 Crowfoot’s grdf!— gray? It flashed.$n ere was Crowfoot’s e that I might mount the fresh horsevand ride on. But where was the gray? ‘t As I peered rfund!I heard faintly the sound e eal aad mon he coming my way? No; fain more faintly I heard the hoofs. we sf Had the gray gone.on then, witho:t the dispatch? I clutched at my breast. My coat was unbuttoned—the paper was gone! Well, sir, I cheered. My God! but it was comforting to hear those far-away hoofs, and know that Bader must have come un, taken the papers, and mounted Crowfoot’s gray, still good for a ten-mile ride! The dispatch was gone} forward; we had not all fallen’ in vain; maybe the brigades would “ba saved! = How ly the ‘stars “shone! When I stifled my groaning’ they seemed to tel} me of @ great peeps Le Sees eid pes ie «night! . an ought “of ‘the nce Cee Tiultitudes Who had died for the lon, 3 a Now the galloping had quite died away. There was not a sound; a slight breeze blew, but there were no leaves to rustle. + 6—TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. . tigue was benumb- rt o was a forgotten—the sound of of thousands of men. A Bader I never saw again, nor Lieutenant Miller, nor any man with whom I rode that night. When I came to my senses ' was in hospital at City Point. Thence I went home invalided. Ss No surgeon, no nurse, no soldier at the hospital could tell me of my regiment, or how or why I was where I was. All they could tell me was that Richmond was taken, the army far away in pursuit of Lee, and a rumor flying that the great commander of the south had surrendered near Appomattox Court House. —_—_————_ COULDNT TAKE NEW YORK. The Metropolis Has Little to Fear From Foreign Fleets. From the New York Sun. A Sun reporter took his way to the Army building a day or two ago. The questions he had to ask were inspired, not so much by anxiety as by a curiosity to know whether Printing House Square might calmly, a with safety, receive and give out news tn the event of a bombardment, or whether the Square had better move uptown and get its news by wire from the Battery. The re- porter followed the procession, and in due time found himself in the private office of an officer of engineers, te whom he explained who he was and his business. “There won't be any bombardment,” the officer said, ‘‘and if there was, we needn't any of us worry much about it.” Then he proceeded to make a very guarded statement about the distance the ships of a foreign power would have to be from the city in order that their guns might do dam- age to its property. “In the first place,” said the officer, “it must be borne in mind that the distance a gun will carry depends upon the elevation of thé gun. No naval commander has ever considered it safe to sight a gun on shipboard at a greater angle than fifteen degrees. Many commanders will not elevate the gun higher than twelve degrees. The reason for this is that the re- coil of a gun at a higher elevation than twelve or fifteen degrees would do great damage. The gun carriage would be brok- en, the electric apparatus would be de- stroyed, and about everything breakable on board would be smashed. On land, where there is no danger from the recoil, the angle of elevation may be higher, but even on land the greatest angle at which a gun has been sighted was in England during the queen’s jubilee. At that time a gun, sighted at an angle of forty-five degrees, carried twelve miles. Now, if the maxi- mum elevation on shipboard be fifteen de- grees, the maximum carrying distance of the largest guns would be about six miles. Therefore, vessels sent to bombard the city would have to be stationed in the Narrows, between Forts Wadsworth and Hamilton. Then, if they cpencd fire, the shells they dropped about, here and there, would be quite likely to incapacitate for further ser- vice whatev-r they struck. “It must be remembered, though, that be- fore any vessel could get near Fort Wads- worth or Fort Hamilton it would have to pass the defenses at Sandy Hook and over the submarine mines in that vicinity. Just at present the chances of a foreign fleet passing Sandy Hook are not bad. Whert the defenses are completed, however, I'd rather be up in a balloon without a com- pass than on a ship that tried to pass those defenses. Just where those mines are lo- cated is kept a profound secret in the War Department. In addition to the batteries on Sandy Hook, it must also be borne in mind that there are also batteries at Forts Wadsworth and Hamilton. These are not powerful batteries, to be sure, but they would do good service before they were si- lerced. In addition to these harbor de- fenses, the channel would be filled with sunken vessels, which would prove very ob- structive to the ships of an invading fleet. Of course, all the damage done to the city weuld be in the lower part. Supposing the city were destroyed up to Canal street, everything would be serene above that.” 2+ ___ THE WOMAN’S PROTEST. How She Expressed Her Indignation Over the Slaughter of Birds. Ed. Mott in the New York Journal. “Why, sir,” exclaimed the thin woman with a story eye, as she waylaid the head floor-walker in the big store’s millinery de- partment. ‘Even cats couldn't be equal to ! Not all the cats there are, wild and teme, could be equal to it! How can you, can you do it, sir? How can you?” 3 The floor-walker bowed and said: - “If you ore referring to floor-walking, madam, I—"” “Flocr-walking, fiddlesticks!” said the stcny-eyed woman. “Wiping feathered warblers from the face of the earth is what I am referring to, sir! The song birds of the air, the song birds of the bush, the song birds of the field, the song birds of the forest, that you are wiping from the face of the earth! How can you, can you do it, sir? How can you?” “I give you my word, madam,” said the floor-walker, “I never in my life wiped a single—" “Look about you, sir,” persisted the wo- man with the stony eye, “and see ‘em in your hais and in your bonnets! Hundreds and hundreds of ’em, and every one wiped from the face of the eagth! See this one, cold, cold in death; its sweet voice forever hushed, perched in radiant beauty on that new spring hat! How much did you say that hat was?” “The price of that hat,” said the floor- walker, “is $15, madame, and——” “Hah!” exclaimed the stony-eyed woman. “Fifteen dollars! Poor bird! Poor bii Once free as the roaming zephyr, and fill- ing your native copse with tunefulness; now tied to your roost, so to speak, on a yellow straw hat, with a price upon your head! Sir! How can you, can you do it? Would you not rather hear that beauteous thing burst forth once more in all the melody and the gladness of its wondrous song than have ten-fold the price you set upor it?” “Pardon me, madame,” replied the floor- walker, “but not on your life! That beau- teous thing is a jaybird. You may some time have wandered by the woodside and paused to wonder who it was that came that way to file his saw. Since there is no saw-filer present to hear me and feel hurt, I dou’t mind telling you that it was the melody and gladness of the jaybird’s wondrous song that ycu heard. This very one, perhaps, and if I thought there was daiger now of it bursting forth I'd tell you to grab the hat with it on and hurry home!” The stony-eyed woman paused as if for a reply from the beauteous thing, but it did not burst forth, and she resumed. “Alas, sweet bird!” said she. “Wiped from the face of the earth, ’twill never wake to living song again! ‘fen dollars would hardly take that hat, you think?” “Fifteen dollars, madame,” said the floor- — shaking his head, “is the upset price.” “And here,” continued the woman, cast- ing her stony eye around on the stock, “‘are song birds of the air and of the bush, and of the field, and of the forest, with nothing left but spreading tails and staring heads and flashing wings. All wiped—” “Shrikes, madame,” said the floor-walker. “Eat bees by the million. Voice. worse than a song-and-dance woman. Catbirds. Step on your dog’s tail and hear one sing. Flickers, sap-suckers, woodpeckers. Warble like a-drum corps.” “All wiped from the face of the earth!’ declared the woman with the stony eye. “Beauteous things, with tuneful throats; that you have wiped from the face of the earth, sir, at the beck of fashion and be- cause my sex is vain! Gone is their swell- ing gush of song because my sex is slave to fashion! That $15 hat—how much off did you say, for cash?” “Net, madame,” said the floor-walker. “Fifteen dollars, net.” = The stony-eyed woman paused long enough to say: “Even cats couldn’t be equal to it! Not all the cats there are, wild and tame, could be equal to it.” ‘Then ‘she went out, and the floor-walker mopped his face and said: “Ain't she a cuckoo? Wouldn’t she be @ bird to trim a hat with?” = ———_+e+—___. Written for The Evening Star, Resignation. The san of all my hopes went down And naught remained but darkest night. ‘Then, one by one, Faith's stars came out— ‘Dear tokens of the (reat God-light. —BPANNIE H. ANDERSON. Highest of all in Leavening Power.— Latest U.:i. ABSOLUTELY PURE A MOLE’S LONG BURROW. For Nearly Two Miles It Wound Its Way Along the River Bank. From the Kansas City Star. Down along the river bank after the water had receded into a narrow channel, through which it tumbled and eddied and belched up great rings, there was left a broad sand flat. This sand flat fell off in broad steps in which, here and there, were left shallow pools. Big gnarly stumps of trees, probably grown many miles up th river,had occasionally stranded, after floa: ing down on the river’s surface, and gath- ered piles of driftwood about them, Bar- rels and boxes of all sorts of strange plun- der were to be found, and it is not alto- gether unlikely that one, by looking close- ly, might have found more than one article of value. The sand had dried down as hard and firm as on any Atlantic beach. It was springy, too, just the thing for brisk walk- ing. And walking on it was a joy. There were neither jostling elbows nor street smells, nor sounds. Just the gray sky above,the damp wind and the yellow river oozing along a stone’s throw away. Traversing this fiat was a remarkable little ridge or welt. It started in the sand where the last river bank had begun, just before the river receded. Above it the grasses hung over the five-foot bank and towering aloft was a large cottonwood tree. The welt ren straight out toward the river a thousand yards or more, then turned west and wound in a waving line, up stre: For nearly two miles it could be followed, weaving here and there, never disappeari: g below the surface and never changing in appearance until it suddenly lost itself in another bank of sand against which it had run. It was the burrow of a mole. And who knows but the little blind burrower is still working his way through half of Clay county to find the end of the bank. Or, maybe he started upward after awhile and came out in the middle of some farmer's frozen garden patch or corn field. SS THE TROUBLE IN AFRICAs Its Features Discussed by Two Intelli- gent and Well-Informed Citizens. From the Chicago Record. “They've been having quite an exciting time in Trancevale,” remarked a customer to the cigar store clerk. “Yes, so I read this morning. I guess that man Saulusberry over there gets a lit- tle too gay at times. Why, you know he’s tryin’ the same game down there in Tranz- val that he did down in Venezzula.”” “Certainly, that’s the policy of England to grab everything it can. I think the United States ought to stand by Venezu- weela and protect the Shamburk line, no matter what happens. I believe Salisbry will back Jown before it comes to a fight.” “Of course he will. The whole country of Venezwela is with us. You read, didn’t you, how much excitement there is in Carrykus?” “Yes, but I'll tell you those fellows down at Ca-rack-us they’re too excitable. T! fly off the handle. I think this Venezuwee- lean commission ought to settle the whole matter without paying ary attention to them. If the Shawmburg line is the bound- ary, say so I say, make the British stay in British Gi-anna. “Well, you see, they claim that Gee-anna extends away over beyond this Shawmburk line. That's what Saulusb’ry made his kick about.” “They claim the mouth of that river, too, the O-rin-aco, don’t they?” “Yes, I believe they do, and that co is an important place for a fort.” “Well, what do you suppose Engiand’s going to do now that the kay-zer has taken sides with Trance-vahl?” “They'll have to back out on everything. They can’t afford to have any trouble with the ki-zer. He’s too strong for "em. They say he’s backed up by the rick-stag. “Yes, the rike-stag—so I understand. “Well, the English own that Johannes- burg, don’t they?” “You mean Yohonnisburg. don’t you? OF, yes, that’s owned by the English. That's where the trouble started. A crowd of Englishmen went over into Trahncevahl and tried to take forcible possession of some territory, I believe.» That’s the way I understand it.” “Well, I'm glad Sal—er—England was called down for ‘it. It'll help us in this South American trouble.” . A short man who had come in to buy 5 cents’ worth of plug tobacco overheard the last remark. “I'l promise yez one thing,” said he “Sallizboory will niver lay hands on_Vinnizzowoola.” That ended the discussion. ri-no- ——____+e-____ SOUTHERN WAR INCIDENTS. Some of the Amusing Occ a Soldier's Life. From the Warrenton Virginian. At one of the engagements in Tennessee a confederate captcin wes detailed to sup- port a battery. The federal troops made a fierce assault ard carried off one of the guns. The officer was furious over the loss of the gun, and swore that his men should charge and recapture it. One of the pri- vates, who now lives rear this place, said: “Look here, captain, if the confederate gov- ernment must have a gun, I propose we chip in and buy one.” A hungry confederate by the name of Johnston walked into a farm house while the family were seated at the supper table. The farmer had been troubled so much with soldiers that he corcluded not to in- vite the man to partake of the meal with him, but to make conversation said to the confederate: “What is your rame?” “Take- a-bite,” replied the soldier. “‘W! peated the farmer, “Take - “Thanks,” said the soldier, “‘as you insist, I believe I will eat something,” and sat down at the table. A slim specimen of a North Carolinian left the ranks of his regiment while pass- ing through Front Royal, and approaching a lady standing on her porch, made the fol- lowing comprehensive request: ‘Miss, will you please give me a drink of water? I am so hungry I don’t know where I am to sleep tonight.” a Two Working Sides of the Brain. From Chambers’ Journal. It is well known that each side of the brain is connected with the movements and sensations mainly on the opposite side of the body; the right brain moves the left arm and leg, and vice versa. Now, cases are not infrequent in which, with or with- cut “a shock,” or at least some degree of obvious loss of muscular power on the right side of the body, the faculty of re- calling and reproducing spcken words is totally or almost totally lost. Such loss of speech is technically called aphasia. It was first shown some thirty-five years ago ty a French physician, that this particular symptom is associated with damage to a limited and*very definite part of the brain substance on the left side which has since been. known, jn honor of its discoverer, as Broca’s convolution. When the power of speech has thus been lost, it is possible, if the mental faculties are not otherwise dam- aged, to acquire it again, by just such a course of training and practice as the child passes through in learning to speak at first, even where Broca’s convolution has been so damaged as to be quite incapable of performing its functions. In such a case the portion of the brain on the right side corresponding to Broca’s convolution is cepable of taking up its work; but only by being educated to do so, just as the dam- aged portion of the brain had been origin- ally. If after this the power of speech is lost. again, by damage to the right side sintilar to that which had impaired the left, there fs no hope of its being restored a sec- ond time. It is thus clear that there are two organs or portions of the brain capable of con- trolling speech, and that under ordinary circumstances only one of them is trained to do so, the other iying fallow. All the education is given to one favored side, and all the work is done by it; but the neglected one, if called by necessity to undertake the work, can be trained to do it, and to do it, erparently, as satisfactorily as the other. |. As good as Gold--Dr. Bull's Cough Syrup. = A COMPARISON OF FORCES. j What the English May Have and What America: Could Do. From the Figaro. M. Vignaud’s statement that the Ameri- can fleet would be able to destroy or to paralyze in one month all the commerce of Ergiland, and that the United States would immediately find the millions for as many war ships as they might need, has not in- fluenced the English. Confident of the power of their forty-four battle ships, their 142 cruisers and their 110 torpedo boats, our neighbors on the other side of the strait look with a certain contempt upon the fleet of the United States, which num- bers only about forty vessels, or nine bat- tle ships, twenty-five cruisers and a few torpedo boats. This disproportion of forces ®ppears to the English so utterly crushing that they will not admit the possibility of a repulse. On the other hand, the Americans, in blowing the war trumpet immediately after the defiant message of President Cleveland, seem to be a little too hasty. It is evident- ly the recollection of the wonders accom- plished by their sailors during the war of the rebellion that fires their ardor. It is true that during that fratricidal struggle, which lasted during four years,the federals and confederates succeeded in creating fleets almost out of nothing. It is also true that, taking advantage of the initiative spirit and the boldness which have never deserted the Americans, the men of both north and south were able to revolutionize the art of naval warfare. They made improvements, introduced novelties and invented new engines, such as ironclads, monitors and torpedo boats. But in 1861, at the commencement of hos- tilities, the two adversaries were evenly matched in the means at their disposal, means which were utterly insufficient, if not completely worthless. The conditions of the possible future conflict are altogeth- er different. If the spirit of invention and of enterprise still remains as active as ever among the Americans, if their: industrial resources have been developed during the pest few years in marvelous proportions, if by intelligent and patient efforts they have been able to create an effective fleet, without drawing upon any foreign products, it must none the less be remembered that they propose to quarrel with a power es- sentially maritime, which, on the one hand, eccupies in an industrial point of view an incomparable position, and on the other Fossesses the greatest navy in the world. Englishmen would do well to remember that in 1812 the Americans made war upon them with a fleet small in number and yeak in preparation. But for all that, five English frigates fell into the hands of the eremy during the very first months of the struggle, and it did not take long for those in London to become convinced that their enemy, 80 much despised on the outbreak of hostilities, was well worthy of serious ccnsideration. “What happened at that time might be repeated again, and the American navy of 1895, however small it may be in the number ofjts Bhipspmight well be able to make a more imposing enemy. suffer very considerable lfsés. A nation that lives upon its maritime commerce alone has much to dread from the attacks of cruisers boldly commanded. And since the Ameri- cans have refused to sign a sanction of the treaty of Paris, whieh would bind them to the suppression of privateering, they are at perfect liberty to create any number they please of auxiliary cruisers, 66 that the war which they could wage upon English steamers and ‘sailing véssels might be re- Gcubtable in the extreme. TWO DOG STORIES. As Showing Their Intelligence as Ww Their Kindness. From the London Spectator. May I add my testimony to the intelli- gence of dogs in the matter of understand- ing what is said in their hearing? Several years ago I had a beloyed mongrel fox terrier named Joe. We were staying some months at Penzance, and the dog went everywhere with us and knew the place well. One day we were, as usual in the afternoon, on the club tennis ground, when the secretary came up and warned me that on the following day, as there was to be a tournament, no dogs would be admitted to the inclosur>. I promised to shut Joe up at home. That evening we missed the dog, and in the morning also he was not to be ‘seen. When we went to look on at the tournament in the afternoon. we found Joe waiting for us; the ground man told us that the dog had been there all night, and would not allow himself to be caught. He had never slept out before, and he certain- ly must have “understood what was said. We often used to say, “We will drive to such a place today, but Joe must stay at home,” and almost invariably, in Whatever direction it might be, before we had driven a mile we found Joe waiting for us by the roadside. He always grinned when, we came up with him. Thirty years ago I was living in St. George's Square, Pimlico, and near me—in Denbigh street, at a distance of about ten minutes’ walk—resided a well-known jour- nalist, Percy Gregg. He had a little black- and-tan dog, for which I found a home when his master was about to leave Lon- don, It was reported to me that Jimmie always ieft my house after breakfast. At first alarm was felt that he would stray; but as he invariably returned after an hour's stroll, I took him to be one of those “vagrom” animals who cannot live without a prowl in the streets, and I felt no anxi- ety. But I ascertained that whenever he went away, he carried off a bone or some- thing edible with him. I watched him one or two mornings, and saw him squeeze through the area railings, on each oc- casion carrying a _ big bone, which he had _ great difficulty in steering through the iron bars. Being curious about the destination of the food, I made up my mind to follow him. I tracked him to an empty house, next to that in which his former owrer had lived. In a cellar in the area there lived a half-starved, ownerless terrier, who, I suppose, had once been a friend of Jimmie's, and whom my dog in his oo of prosperity never forgot. Regu- larly the good little fellow trotted off to the empty cellar, and divided his morning’s meal with his poor friend. The story is told of the great Napoleon riding over one of his battlefields—] don’t know whether it was Wagram or Austerlitz—and pointing to a faithful dog watching the body of his dead master, with the words, “That dog teaches us all a lesson of humanity So did Jim- mie. .- —~+oo-— A Great Weight Off His Mind. From the Chicago Tribune. “I presume, Mr. Harkus,” said young Sor- reltop, who had lately married into the family, “Ethel will take her piano with her when we go to keeping house?” “Indeed she will not,” answered his fath- er-in-law. “That piano velongs to her mother.” “Thank you, Mr. Harkus! Thank you!” exclaimed ‘the young man, grasping him fervently by the hand; and the light of a great joy-shone in his eyes. — Degeneration. From St. Paul's. Parrot Scott! is that what we come to! (student of evolution)—“Greas