Evening Star Newspaper, March 14, 1896, Page 20

Copyright, 1896, by Bacheller, Johnson & Bacheller.) PART IL. Capt. Polscn sat in his comfortable par- lor smiling benignly upon his davghter and sister. His chip after an absence of eight- een months was once more berthed In the small harbor of Sunset bay, and the cap- tain was sitting in that state of good-na- tured affab which invariably character- ized his first appearance after a long ab- sence. “No news this end, I suppose?” he in- quired, after a lengthy recital of most ex- traordinarily uninterestir g adventure. “Not much,” said his sister Jane, looking nervously at her niece. “Young Metcalfe has gone into partnership with his father.” “I don’t want to hear about those sharks,” said the captain, wexing red; “tell me about honest men.” “Joe Lewis has had a month's imprison- ment for jing fowls,” said Miss Polson, meekly. “Mrs. Purton has had twins; dear | little fellows they are, fat as butter. She has named one of them Polson after you— the greedy one.” “any deaths?’ inquired the captain, snappishly, as he eyed the innocent lady usty. Tf old Jasper Wheeler has gone,” said ister; “he was very resigned. He bor- rowed encugh money to get a big doctor from London, and when he heard that there was no hope for him, he said he was just longing to go, and he was sorry he couldn't take all his dear ones with him. Mary Hewscn is married to Jack,Draper, and young Metcaife’s banns go up for the third time next Sunday.” “I hope he gets a tartar,” said the vindic- tive captain. “Who's the girl? Some silly little fool, I know. She ought to be warned.” “I don’t believe in interfering in mar- s,”" said his daughter Chrissie, shaking ead :agely. id the captain, staring, “you @on’t? Now you've put your hair up and taken to wearing long frocks, I suppose you're beginning to think of it.” ‘Yes; atntie wants to tell you some- thing,” said the daughter, rising and cross- ing the ro m. “No, I don’t,” said Miss Polson, hastily. “You'd better do It,” said Chrissie, giv- ing her a little push: “there's a dear. I'll go up and lock myseif in my room.” The face of the captain while this con- versation was passing was a study in sup- pressed emotions. He was = firm advocate for importirg the manrers of the quarter- deck into private life, the oniy drawback being that he had to leave behind him the language usual in that locality. To this omission he usually ascribed his failures. “Sit down, Chrissie," he commanded; “sit down, Jane. Now, miss, what's all this about?” “I don’t like to tell you,” safd Chrissie, folding her hands in her lap. “I know you'll be cross. You're so unreasonable.” The captain stared—frightfully. “I'm goirg to be married,” said Chrissie, suddenly. “There! To Jack Metcalfe— there! So you'll have to learn to love him. He's go'ng to try and love you for my sake.” ‘To his sister's dismay, the captain got up and, brandishing his fists, walked violently to and fro. By these simple but unusual means decorum was preserved. “If you were only a boy,” said the cap- tain, when he had regained his seat, “I should know what to do with you.” “If I were a boy,” said Chrissie, who hay- ing braced herself up for the fray, meant to go through with it, “I shouldn’t want to marry Jack. Don’t ’be silly, father.” “Jane,” said the captain, in a voice which made the lady addressed start in her chair, “what do you mean by it?” “It isn't my fault,” said Miss Polson. feebly. “I told her how {t would be. And % was so gradual. He admired my gera- niums at first, and, of course, I was de- teived. There are so many people who ad- mire my gerariums, whether it is because round and break his neck. Chris: nineteen, and she'll come for a yea with me. Perhaps the sea air’il her head. We'll see who's ma’ family. “I'm sure I don’t want to be master,” said his daughter, taking a weapon of fine eambric out of her pocket, and getting ready for action. “I can’t help liking peo- Auntie likes him, toc. Don't you, said Miss Polson, bravely. ‘Very good,” said the autocrat, promptly. “Tl take you both for a cruise. “You're making me very unhappy,” said Chrissie “You'll be more unhapppy hefore I've done with you,” said the captain, grimly. “And while I think of it, I'll step around stop those banns. His daughter caught him by the arm as ssing and laid her face on his ou'll make me look so foolish,” burying her face in the handker- make it easier for you to come th me,” said her father. “Don't leeve. I'm going to see a 's and play with your and if you're a good girl I'll bring you in He put on bis hat, with nd, closing the front t of to the new off the age which r purposes ef matri- tor grieved at such duplicity met him more than half e out from him smiling 1 his attention was attracted mart on the other side of the Ss regarding him with manifest door ening, Capt. Polson,” he said, the roa captain, stopping. ber | to you.’ I suppose you Wanted to mar my daughter while I was Gut of the way to save trouble. Just the menly thing I should have expected of you. Ive stopped the banns, and I'm going to take her for a voyage with me. You'll Bave to look elsew my lad.” ali on your side, cap- letcalfe, reddening. snorted the captain; “you he witness box and made me a in the place with your silly jokes, lose me five hundred wanted to spea Brandishivz His Fists, Watked Vio- len: te and Fro. unds and then try and marry my daugh- re while I’m at sea. Iil-feeling be hang- i | “That was business.” said the other. “Kt was,” said the captain, “and this is Business, too. Mine. Til look after it, I I think I know who'll look n@ I'd sooner see my girl in Beaven than married to a rascal of a law- Cire nt good eyesight.” retorted Metcalfe. who was becoming rufiled. “T don’t want to handy words with you,” said the captain with dignity, after a long Peuse devoted to thinking of something Worth bandying. “You think you’re a elever fellow, but I know a cleverer. You're q@uite welcome to marry my daughter if He turned on his heel and, refusing to Waster. to any further remarks, went on his Way rejoicing. Arrived home, pipe and, throwing himself into an arm- chair, related his exploits. Chrissie had recourse to her handkerchief again, more for effect than use, but Miss Polson, who Was a tender soul, took hers out and wept vunrestrainedly. At first the captain took it well enough. It was a tribute to his power, but when they took to sobbing one against the other his temper rose, and he sternly commanded silence. “I shall be like—this—every day at sea,” sobbed Chrissie, vindictively, “only worse, making us all ridiculous.” “Stop that noise directly,” vociferated the captain. he lit his “It's all we can do, and we're going to do it. You'd better g—go out and stop some- thing else. You c—can’t stop us.” The captain took the advice and went, and in the billiard room of the ‘‘George” heard some news which set him thinking, and which brought him back somewhat earlier than he had at first intended. A small group at his gate broke up into its elements at his approach, and the captain fcllowing his sister and daughter into the room sat down and eyed them severely. “So you're going to run off to London to get married, are you, miss?” he said ferociously. ‘Well, we'll see. You don’t go out of my sight until we sail, and if I catch that pettifogging lawyer round at my gate again I'll break every bone in his bcdy. Mina that.” For the next three days the captain kept his daughter under observation and never allowed her to stir abroad except in his company. The evening of the third day, to his own great surprise. he spent at a Doreas. The company was not congenial, several of the ladies putting their work away and glaring frigidly at the intruder, ard, though suffering greatly, made no at- tempt to. put him at his ease. He was very thoughtful all the way home, and the next day took a partner into the concern in the shape of his boatswain. “You understand, Tucker,” he concluded, as the hapless seaman stood in a cringing attitude before Chrissie, “that you never let my daughter out of your sight. When she goes out you go with her.” “Yes, sir,” said Tucker, “‘and suppose she tells me to go home, what am I to do then?” “You're a fool,” said the captain, sharply. “It doesn’t matter what she says or does; unless you are in the same room you are Lever to be more than three yards from her.” “Make it four, cap’ said the boat- Swain, in a broken voice. “Three,” said the captain, “and mind, she’s artful. All girls are, and she'll try and give you the slip. I've had informa- tion given me as to what’s going on. What- ever happens you are not to leave her.” “I wish you'd get somebody else, sir,” said Tucker, very respectfully. ‘There's a lot of chaps aboard that'd I'ke the job.” “You're the only man I can trust,” said the captain, shortly. ‘When I give you orders I know they'll be obeyed. It's your watch now.” He went out humming. Chrissie took up a book and sat down, utterly tgnoring the woe-begone figure which stood the regula- tion three yards from her, twisting its cap in its hands. “I hope, miss,” said the boatswain, after standing patiently for three-quarters of an hour, “as ’ow you won't think 1 sought arter this ’ere little job.” ,"” said Chrissie, without looking up. n just obeying orders,” continued the boatswain. “I always git let in for these "ere little jcbs, somehow. The monkeys I've ‘ad to look arter aboard ship would frighten you. There never was a monkey on the Monarch but what I was in charge of. That's what a man trustworthy.” gets by being “Just so,” said Chrissie, putting down her book. ‘Well, I'm going into the kitchen now. Come along, nursic.” “Ere, I say, miss,” remonstrated Tucker, flushing. “I don’t know how Susan will like your going to her kitchen,” said Chrissie, thoughtfully; “however, that’s your bus- iness.”” The cnfortunate seaman followed his fair ckarge into the kitchen, and leaning against the dcor post doubled up like a limp rag before the terrible glance of its mistress. “Ho,” said Susan, who took the state of affairs as an insult to the sex in gen- eral, “and what might you be wanting?” “Cap'n’s orders,” murmured Tucker fee- bly “I'm captain here,” said Susan, con- fronting him with her bare arms akimbo. “And credit It does you,” said the boat- looking admiringly round. t your wish, Miss Chrissie, that this “I'm captain here,” said Susan. image comes and stalks into my kitchen, as if the place belongs to him?” demanded the irate Susan. zZ “I didn’t mean to come in In that way,” said the astonished Tucker. “I can’t help being big.” “I don’t want him here,” said her mis- “What do you think I want him tress. for?” “You hear that,” said Susan, pointing to the door, “now go. I don’t want peo- ple to say that you come into this kitch- en after me. “I'm here by the cap’n’s orders,” said Tucker, fainUly. “I don’t want to be here. Far from it. As for people saying that I came ere after you, them as knows me would laugh at the idea.” “If I had my way,” said Susan in a hard, rasping voici ’d box your ears for you. That's what I'd do to you, and you can go and tell cap’n I said so. Spy!” This was the first verse of the first vatch, and there were many verses. To add to his discomfort, he was confined to the house, as his charge manifested no desire to go outside, and as neither she nor her aunt cared about the trouble of bringing him to a fit and proper state of subjection, the task became a labor of love for the energetic Susan. In spite of everything, however, he stuck to his guns; and the indignant Chrissie, who was in almost hourly communication with Met- calfe, through the medium of her faithful handmaiden, ‘was rapidly becoming desper- ate. PART IT. On the fourth day, time getting short, Chrissie went on a new tack with her keeper, and Susan, sorely against her will, had to follow suit. Chrissie smiled at him, Susan called him Mr. Tucker, and Miss Polson gave him a glass of her best wine. From the position of an outcast he jump- ed In one bound to that of confidential ad- viser. Miss Polson told him many items of family interest, and later on in the after- boon actually consulted him as to a bad cold which Chrissie had developed. He prescribed half a pint of linseed oll hot, but Miss Polson favored chlorodyne. The conversation turned on the deadly qualities of that drug when taken in ex- cess, of the fatal sleep into which it lulled its victims. So disastrous were the inci- dents cited that half an hour later, when, her aunt and Susan being out, Chrissie took @ small bottle of chlorodyne from the man- telpiece, the boatswain implored her to try bis nastier but safer remedy instead. “Nonsense,” said ie, “I’m only going to take twenty drops. One—two —three—* ~ Bo The drug suddenly poured out in a little stream. “I should think that’s about it,” asia nei: holding the tumbler up to the ight. * E “It's about 500,” said the horrified Tuck- er; “don’t take that, miss, whatever you do. Let me measure it for you.’ The girl waved him away, and before-he could interfere drank off the contents of the glass and resumed her seat. The boat- swain watched her uneasily, and taking up the phial, carefully regd through the di- rections. After that he was not at all surprised to see the book fall from his carers hand onto the floor and her eyes close. “I knowed it,” said Tucker, in a profuse Perspiration. “I knowed it. Them gals are all alike. Always knows what's best. Miss Polson! Miss Polson!” He shook her roughly, but to no pu Pose, and then running to the door shou ed eagerly for Susan. No reply forthcom- ing, he ran to the window, but there was nobody in sight. and he came back gnd stood in front of the girl, wringing his huge bands helplessly. It was a great question for a poor sailorman. If he went for a doc- tor he deserted his post; if he didn’t go, his charge might die. He made one more at- tempt to awaken her, and seizing a flower- glass splashed her freely with cold water. She did not even wince. “It’s no use fooling with it,” murmured Tucker. “I must get the doctor, that’s all.” He quitted the room, and, dashing hastily down stairs, had already opened the hall door, when a thought struck him and he came back again. Chrissie was still asleep in the chair, and with a smffe at the clever way in which he had solved a difficulty he stooped down, and, raising her in his strong arms, bore her from the room and down stairs. Then a hitch occurred. The triumphant progress was marred by the be- havior of the hall door, which, despite his efforts, refused to be opened, and, encum- bered by his fair burden, he could not for some time ascertain the reason. Then, full of shame that so much deceit could exist in so fair and frail a habitation, he discov- ered that is Polson’s foot was pressed fpmly against it. Her eyes were still closed afid her head heavy, but the fact remained that one foot was acting in a manner that was full of intelligence and guile, and when he took it away from the door the other one took its place. By a sudden ma- reuver the wily Tucker turned his back on the door and opened it, and at the same moment a hand came to life again and dealt him a stinging slap on the face. “Idiot,” said che indignant Chrissie, slip- ping from nis arms and confronting him. “How dare you take such a liberty?” The astonished boatswain felt his face and regarded her open-mouthed. “Don’t you ever dare to speak to me again,” said the cffended maiden, crawing herself up with irreproachable dignity. ‘I am disgusted with your conduct. Most un- bearable.” “I wes carrying you off to the doctor,” said the beatswain. “How was I to know you was only shammirg?” “Shamming?” said Chrissie in tones of incredulous horror. “I was asleep. I often go to sleep in the afternoon.” The poatswain made no reply except to grin with great intelligence as he fol- lowed his charge upstairs again. He grin- ned at intervals until the return of Susan and Miss Polson, who, trying to look un- concerned, came in later on, both appar- ently saffering from temper, Susan especial- ly. Amid the sympathetic interruptions of theee listeners Chrissie recounted her ex- perience, while the boatswain, despite his better sense, felt like the greatest scoundrel unhung, a fecling which was fostered by the remarks of Susan and the chilling re- gards of Miss Polson. “TI shall inform the captain,” said Miss Polson, bridling. “It's my duty.” “Oh, I shall tell him,” said Chrissie. “I shall tell him the moment he comes in at the door.”” “The idea of “So shall I,” said Susan. taking such liberties." Having fired their broadside, b the two One Foct Was Acting in a Manner That Was Full of Intelligence. watched the enemy narrowly and anxlous- Ly. “If I've done anything wrong, ladles,” gaid the unhappy boatswain, “I am sorry for it. I can’t say anything fairer than that, and I'll tell the cap’n myself exactly how I came to do it, when he comes in.” ‘Pah—telitale,” said Susan. “Of course, if you are here to fetch and carry,” said Miss Polson, with with- ering emphasis. “The idea of a grown man telling tales,” said Chrissie, scornfully. “Baby.” “Why, just now you were all going to tell him yourselves,” said the bewildered boatswain. The two elder women rose and regarded him with looks of pitying disdain. Miss Polson’s glance said “fool” plainly. Susan, a simple child of nature, given to express- ing her mind freely, said “blockhead” with conviction. 3 “I see ‘ow it is,” said the boatswain, af- ter ruminating deeply. ‘‘Well, I won't split, ladies. I can see now you was all in it, and {t was a little job to get me out of the house.” “What a head he’s got,” said the irri- tated Susan; “isn’t it wonderful how he thinks of it all? Nobody would think he was so clever to look at him.” ‘Still water runs deep,” said the boat- swain, who was beginning to have a high opinion of himself. ‘And pride goes before a fall,”’ said Chris- sie; “remember that, Mr. Tucker.” Mr. Tucker grinned, but remembering the fable of the pitcher and the well, press- ed his superior officer that evening to re- lieve him frcm his duties. He stated that the strain was slowly undermining a con- stitution which was not so strong as ap- pearances would warrant, and that his knowledge of female human nature was la- mentably deficient on many important points. “You're doing very well,” said the cap- tain, who had no intention of attending any more Dorcases. “Very well, indeed. I am proud of you.” “It ain't a_man’s work,” objected the boatswain. ‘“‘Besides, if anything happens, you’ll blame me for it.” “Nothing can hapren,” declared the cap- tain, confidently. ‘We shall make a start in about four days now. You're the only man I can trust with such a delicate job, Tucker, and I shan’t forget you.” “Very gnod,” said the other, dejectedly. “I obey orders, aoe The next day passed quietly, the members of the hotisehold ‘making a great fuss of Tucker, and thereby filling him with fore- bodings of) the worst possible nature. On the day after, winge the captain, having business at a neighboring town, left him in sole charge, his uneasiness could not be concealed. ¢ “I'm goitg for a walk,” said Chrissie, as he sat by himself, working out dangerous moves and the best means- of checking them. ‘Would you care to come with me, Tucker?” “I wish you wouldn’t put it that way, miss,” said the beatswain, reaching for his te “I want exercise,” said Chrissie. “I’ve been cooped up long enough.” She set off at a good pace up the high street, attended by her faithful follower, and passing through the small suburbs, struck out into the country beyond. After four miles the boatswain, who was no waiker, reminded her that they had got to go back. “Plenty of time,” said Chrissie. “We have got the day before us. Isn’t it glori- ous? you sce that milestone, Tucker? T'll race ycu for it. Come along.” She was off on the instant, with the boatswain, who suspected treachery, after er. “You can run,” she panted, thoughtfully, as she came in second. “We'll have an- other one presently. You don’t know how good it ts for you. Tucker.” The boatswain grinned sourly and looked at her from the corner of his eye. The next three miles were like a horrible nightmase, his charge making a race in which the la- boring boatswain, despite his want of prac- tice, came in the winner for every mile- stone. The fourth race ended disastrously, ee eae sae last ten ae ad seating herself, with a very woel e face, on the milestone. “You did very well, miss,” said the boat- swain, who thought he could afford to be Teche “You needn't be offended about | my ankle,” said Chrisale, with a yhimper. “OG) I twisted it right The boatswain stopi regarding her in stlen) cease muatian: tke that” sald ie eo use looking like at,”” Chrissie, sharply. “You great, clumsy thing. If you~ hadn’ ve run so hard it wouldn’t have happened. It’s all your fault.” “If you don't mind teaning on me #bit,” said Tucker, “‘we might get along.” Chrissie took his -prm petulantly, and they started on thelr return journey at the rate of about four hours a mile, with little cries and gasps'h every other yard, “It’s no use,” said Chrissie, as she re- linquished his arm, and, limping to the side of the road, sat down. The boatswain pricked up his ears hppefully at the sound of approaching wheels, “What's the matter with the young lady?” inquired a groom who was dfiving a litle trap, as he pulled up and regarded with in- terest a grimace of extraordinary intensity on the young lady’s face. “Broke her ankle, I think,” said the boatswain, glibly. “Which way are you going?” “Well, I'm going to Sunset Bay," said the freom, “but my gov'nor’s rather! pertick- ler.” “I'll make it all right with you,” said the boatswain. The groom hesitated a minute, and then made way fo: Chrissie, as the hoatswain assisted her to get up beside him; then Tucker, with a grin of satisfaction at get- ting a seat once more, clambered up be- hind, and they started. “Have a rug, mate?’ said the groom, handing the reins to Chrissie and passing one over.. “Put it around your knees and tuck the ends under you.” “Ay! ay! mate!” said the boatswain, as he obeyed the instructions. “Are you sure you are quite comfort- able?” said the groom, affectionately. “Quite,” said the othcr. The groom sald no more, but in a quiet, business-like fashion placed his hands on the seaman’s broad back and shot him out into the road. Then he snatched the reins from Chrissie, and drove off at a gallop. Without the faintest hope of @inning, Mr. Tucker, who realized clearly, appear- ances notwithstanding, that he had fallen into a trap, rose after a hurried rest, and started on his fifth race that morning. The prize was only a second-rate groom with plated buttons, who was waving Shot Him Out Into the Road. cheery farewells at him with a dingy top hat, but the boat¢wain would have sooner had it than a ailver tea service. He ran as he had never run before in his life, but all to ro purpose, the trap stopping calmly a little further on to take up an- other passenger, in whose favor the groom retired to the back seat. Then with a final wave of the hand to him, they took a road to the left and drove rapidly out of sight. The boatswain's watch was over. (The’ end.) oe _ AUSTRIA’S WOMEN PRISONERS. Even the Worst (riminals Are “Er- Fing Sisters” and Are Treated Kindly. From the Chieago Record. In Austria a woman, ho matter what she may do, is never regarded or treated quite as a criminal. She may,rob, burn, kill—set every law at defiance, In fact, and break all the commandments ‘in turn—without a fear of ever being calléd upon to face a gallows. She is not,even sent to any or- dinary prison to do penance for her. sins; the hardest fate that can befall her, indeed, is to be compelled 't« tale ‘up her abode for a time fn a convent. There the treatment} meted out to her ts not so much justice: seasoned with tmercy as mercy seasorfed, and none too well, with justice. Even in official reports she is an “erring sister”’— one who has, it is true, strayed from the narrow path, but quite involuntarily. The convent to which Vienna sends: tts erring sisters {s at Neudorf, only a few miles away from the city. There any woman who !s convicted of elther crime or misdemeanor is at once transported. The judge before whom she is tried decides, of course, how long she shall remain. He may, too, if he deems it right, give orders that while there she shall pass a day in solitary confinement from time to time, and on these occasions be less plentifully supplied with food than usual. In the great majority of cases, however, no in- structions of this kind are given; the women are simply handed over to the keap- ing of the superior of the convent, to be dealt with as she thinks best. She houses them, feeds them, clothes them, and pro- vides them with instruction and occupa- tion; and the government gives her for what she does 35 kreuzers a day (about 7 pence) for each prisoner under her care. So long as these women are in the con- vent the responsibility of their safe keep- ing aad general well being rests on the superior; ard, in return, she is allowed practically a free hand in her management of them. There are, it is true, certain reg- ulations in force with regard to the amount of work they may be required to do and the punishment that nay be inflicted on them; but these are not of a nature to interfere seriously with her freedom of action. She 1s, in fact, virtually an autocrat within her own domain, and there are not half a dozen women in Europe today who have so much power for the weal or woe of their fellows as she has. The only man attached to the place—a government inspector—ts little more than her aid-de-camp; and as for the great officials who pay her flying visits from time to time, they are more in- clined to seek advice than to give ft. The convent itself is a fine old build- irg, which once upon a time was a castle and seems to have been strongly fortified. ‘Lhe religious community to which it now belongs received it as a present from its owner, who cared more for the church than for his heir. There ts nothing in the appear- ance of the place to show that it is a prison; the courtyard stands open the whole day long, and there is never a guard within sight. The dcorkeeper is a pretty Little nun, whom a strong woman could easiiy seize up in her arms and run away with. She welcomes ali comers with the brightest of smiles, and leads them into the parlor without making a single inquiry. ae ee VICTIMS OF SNAKES. Some Remarkuble Stories Told of Their Recovery. : Most persons when they hear a natural- ist tell about peculiar doings by birds, ani- mals, or reptiles grin’ 4nd ask about big fish. One tale, which mip one but natural- ists seem to believe, waa told in the Forest and Stream recently by Allen Chamberlain. He says he heard & cry down in Fiorlda such as a distressed’frok makes and found that a blacksnake Was gwallowing a frog. When the frog was out of sight the snake was shot through the head and the frog was liberated. At first, it was stupefied, but was soon as lively as ever. Within twenty years the same paper has recorded at least a score of just such instances, re- ported by as many peg uals, who gave their real names an¢ dresses, and who @eclared they had seen the stupeficd toad o: frog come to as frem a trance, hop abcut as if dazed, and gt last go away as lively as ever. » = 2 8. D, Kendall, in the Forest and Stream for June, 1892, told about a mother quail which in trying to protect her ue got within reach of a rattlesnake. The snake was killed in the act of swallowing the bird. When released the bird was for some time stupefied, but after a while recovered enough to stagger off. On the next day she was all right and caring for her chicks, ——_--o+____ & Goose Frozen in the Lake. From the Mount Bterling (Ky.) Advocate. One of our farmers was in the city Monday and told of the sudden change in tempera- ture on Grassy Lick, saying that a goose ‘was on the pond and before it could get to the bank ice formed around it and froze its feathers, so that when morning came the ice had to be broken before the goose could be taken out. -His friends to whom he told this doubted the farmer’s sincerity, but when another gentleman joined in and said he had seen cranes ice-bound in the same way, it was accepted as real. : THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MAROH 14, 1896-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES. the bottle? is made. like sarsaparilla. a conundrum. BOSOHSHOOOSO HHS BOHHHHH OS HSISHS HOS SHS SOSISOO sarsaparilla, it fig sarsa. Give it up. exclusively from the imported Honduran sarsaparilla plant, the variety richest in medicinal value and healing power. this is why one bottle of Ayer’s does as much work as three bottles of any other kind. At least, that is what people say who’ve tried others, and then tried Ayer’s. There’s GEORGE SMITH, Druggist, of Seymour, Conn., for “I will guarantee more benefit from one bottle of Ayer’s Sarsaparilla than by using half a dozen bottles That’s the sort of record Ayer’s Sarsa- Others imitate the remedy; they can’t example, who writes: of any other kind.” parilla is living up to. imitate the record—S@ years of cures. The Patent Whatisit It looks like sarsaparilla, smells like sarsaparilla, tastes like What is the name on Is it Ayer? Then it fg sarsaparilia; the best that But the other kind, that looks and smells and tastes It’s whatisit. - ~ Stop! What is it? That’s it. Ayer’s Sarsapari Send for the “Curebook.” 400 pages, 16 half-tones, bound in Royal Holland. Free. Address J. C. Ayer Co., Lowell, Mass. It’s lla, alone, is made Possibly, Some go farther. PDSHSSOO 9000000060090000e000000000000009 SOe8: SOSOS5 HS SOSSSOCSOSSS OBTOE A MIDNIGHT -TALE. The Burglars Were Not Over Scrupu- lous, but They Knew When to Quit. From the Jury. The hour—midnight. Place—kitchen in millioraire’s house. The weather—cloudy, probably rain. “Tick! Tick! Tick!” This noise came from the dollur alarm clock which the hired girl, as usual, had not taken to her room for fear of getting alarmed. “Saw! Saw! Saw!” This noise could never be laid to a dollar clock; only robbers would break the silence thusly with saws. “Drop! Drop! Drop!” This noise is the lock dropping to the floor. The door softly opened and two desperate villains peer through the darkness, and after striking a match and lighting the gas, one of them softly hisses: = “The job is did! Now for the gold! ‘The other is evidently of the same mind, for he takes from beneath his coat a large bag .and a murderous-looking stick, and beckoning to his pal, they steal softly up the back stairs to break the millionaire— his head cr his pocket book. As it takes some time to creep up the millionaire’s back stairs, we will leave the villains creeping and see what is happen- ing in the rich man’s spacious sleeping apartments, and why he doesn’t awaken to foil the robbers at their game. Could you see into this room you would certainly bet a dollar to a bad apple that the man was esleep, but his wife’s eyes are wide open as she turns over, thumps him on the fun- ny bone and says: “And so, Charles, you refuse to buy me a diamond neckls like Mrs. Jones has?” “For the millionth time. I do! Go to sleep!” answered the rich man, opening his eyes for a second to glare at the down- trodden woman. “You wretch!" ou squanderer' “T'll get a divorci “The quicker the better!” In the meantime the robbers, having fin- ished their creeping business, had advanced to the door of the room, and as they paused on the thrashhold they overheard the words given above. Their faces blanched—their hands trembled, and with a bound they fled—fled from that house as if shot from a cannon, and never stopped a stop until a mile of streets lay between them and that unrobbed residence. ‘These men could stab, shoot, rob, murder, but when it came to getting mixed yp in a family quarrel—excuse them! eS Photographing a Bullet. From the Detroit Free Press. : Professor Boys of London recently de- livered an illustrated lecture in which he showed photographs of the Lee-Metford bullet as it passed through a quarter-inch sheet of glass. Just before the bullet touched the sheet the air wave cut a disk of glass about half an inch in diameter clean out. At the same time the glass around the hole was crushed into powder and driven back at an extremely rapid rate. The glass stuck to the bullet for a short time after it had passed through, the disk being driven out in front of the “bow wave.” In this experiment the waves caused by the vibrations of the glass were plainly shown. A photograph of the bullet after it had cleared the glass by nine inches showed the remainder of the glass intact, but when the Bullet had proceeded another sixteen inches, the sheet of glass was seen to break and fall in fragments. ee Honesty Not Politic. Brom the Clairemont Eagle. Maud—‘What is the trouble between Alice and Kate?" ‘Why, you see, Alice asked Kate just what she thought of her.” she gasped. he growled. Maud—“Yos?” Ethel—‘Kate told her.” ee. uM Something to Look Forward To. From Piineh. “Oh, yes; I know 1 must eat if I want to grow healthy, and big, ard strong. Now, I suppose you were able to leave off eating long ago, Aunt Phillida!” STORMING HELL’S GATEWAY. Search of a Party of Americans for Subterranean Treasure. From the Galveston Daily News. Among the old Mexicans of Hidalgo county there has always been a Iegend that there was an immense cavern near the Loma Blanca lake, which is situated in the northeastern part of the county at a point known as Alto Colorado or Red Cliff. It is said that during the close of the last century a wealthy Spaniard got into some trouble with the authorities of Mexico and found it necessary to flee the country in order to save his life. He accordingly loaded an tmmense amount of gold and gems upon pack mules, and with one frith- ful servant started north, in the hope that he would reach a seaport. He arrived at the Rio Grande and crossed to the north side without meeting any special misnap, but on arriving in the viciulty of the Loma Blanca lake he was attacked by a roaming band of Indians, who succeeded in killing his pack mules and mortally wounding his faithful servant. It seems that the Span- lard was a man of undoubte courage, and was well supplied with arms and ammuni- tion, and taking advantage of the natural defenses above referred to, was able to hold the savages at bay unill they were tired out, or forced to retire for food. In the cave he found several springs of fresh water, numerous »assages, and several large rooms, one of whica he decided +o make his treasure vault, and into it he con- veyed all his wealth. After depositing his gold and gems he zarefully closed up the mouth or door ieading to the ireasure room, making a cement for the purpose with the &ypsum and yeso which he found in abund- ance, and marked the spot with two old- fashioned swords crossed. He then struck out alone in an easterly direction, and in a few deys reached the Laguna Madre and managed to cross over to Padre Island, where he remained for some time, until finally picked up by a Spanish vessel and taken to Spain, where he soon afterward died. About six months ago a party of six or seven Americans from ihe neighborhood of Kenedy, in Karnes county, came out to Loma Blanca, and after locking over the grcvnd, commenced excavations, and after clearing away a considerable amount of Grift sand came to what was undoubtedly the mouth of a cave in the side of a hill. The passegeway, altaough filled completely with sand, the accumulations of m: years, was well defined, and could be eas: followed. The work of ex fon is still in progress, but is necessarily very slow. A | few days ago one of the explorers told the News correspondent that they were nearly assured that they had reached the naigh- borhood of the treasure vault described by the old Spaniard. water and all the pi far explored are ex: y as they were de- scribed in the maps, and the gentlemen who are at work on the enterprise have the fnost unbounded faith in final succe They have spent quite a sum of money. besides their own labor, and if they are | merely following a will-o'-the-wisp they are to be pitied. They keep their own coun- cil, and outside their own little circle no one fer certalt: knows what are their pians. They have excavated a tunnel about $00 feet long, and that it is an old subterranean Passage cannot be doubted, as is shown b: tne Stalagme formations abcve and be. low. Apparently they are going down Into the bowels of the earth at an angle of about 60 degrees, and the further they progress the more remarkable are the stalagmite specimens. If there is any buried treasure there and these men find it, they have certainly earn- ed it, and if they spend a portion of it to make a road across the Encinal to the point where they are working they will ave the thanks an] prayers of everybody whose misfortune compels them to travel over those horrible sand hills. SS Record of Big Salmon. From the New York Sun. A few days ago Lord Zetland, while fish- ing in the river Tay, in Scotland, hooked and landed an extraordinary salmon on his fly. The fish was 4 feet 2 inches long and 2 feet 6 inches in girth. It weighed fifty-five pounds. Mallock of Perth is now making @ plaster cast of the fish for his lordship. In June, 1888, R. G. Dun broke the Ameri- can record of large salmon by taking a 54- pound salmon from the Cascapedia river, Canada. President Arthur previousiy had held the American record with a 50-pound salmon. A. G. Bennett of Brooklyn, who was an expert salmon fisher in Scotland, frequently saw 60-pound salmon landed. but never one over 52 pounds, which leads to the belief that the fish die when they reach such a growth, or perhaps ceas growing or biting. soe Proved by History. From the Yonkers (N. ¥.) Statesman. Yeast—I see that there is another prize fight in the win Crimsonbeak—“‘Yes; I guess it will stay there."" oo Late. From the Detroit Tribune. “Be mine,” he implored. 2 “Too late,” she answered in a trembling voice. He buried his face in his hands. Hope from his som. “Too all-fired late,” the woman repeated. “You might have said that three hours ago. The idea of waiting until 1 o'clock in the morning!” : Nevertheless, they were fnarried. SSSSSSCES MR. BULL AS A HOST. Social Changes That Are Affecting British Hospitality. Is the art of British hospitality on the de- clin A writer in the London World be- leves that it is, and assigns as the cause “the adoption for entertaining purposes of that practice of nomadic dining which hat been so largely borrowed of late years from the other side of the channel.” The home dinner party is disappearing, he mournfully adds, owing to the multipiication of gor- geous and palatial restauran with all their alluring possibilities of vicarious hos- pitality. No one can seriously pretend that to entertain at a restaurant is the same thing as to entertain under one’s own roof. It is a trouble-shirking method of discharg- ing social obiigations, utterly devoid of the sentiment associated with the home. “Flat life” is another “foreign” abomina- tion which is contributing to the downfall of the once cherished British institution. Home life and flat life are two totally distinct things, and to a large extent antagonistic. Flat dwellers are debarred from entertain- ing in any but the most restricted manner, and their only resource ts the restaurant. Again, the art of conversation, on which the home dinner depended so much for its success, is on the decline, for today “so great is the dread of mutual boredom that hosts and guests at restaurant dinner par- ties frequently take the precaution to arm themselves en masse with tickets for the play, and thereby escape from the necessity of entertaining each other for a moment longer than is absolutely neces: journing to the theater immedi. Tepast is concluded.” ——_+e+____ The Gu Strategy. From the Tacoma Ledger. . Allen C. Mason is telling a story thar would probably ruin any reputation he may have for truth and veracity where he is not as well known as he is in Tacoma. He says he docs not absolutely vouch for its truth, but believes it to be true. It was told him by some of the men who work on a boat running from the ocean dock to Quartermaster harbor. They say that in ormy weather, when the sea gulls find it Gfficult to get their food from the usual sources of supply, they alight on the logs lying on the beach along the shores of the | harbor until as many of them are perched on a log as can get on it, and then, ap- parently by direction of one of their num- ber, they begin to rock back and forth un- til they turn the loz over and then each one grabs off a harnacle and eats it, and then they repeat the operation. — Give the Other Fellow From the Aichison (Kan.) Globe. No girl should allow a young man to call on her oftener than three times a week, even if they are engaged. Men get tired of the same kind of pie if they have It too a Chance. often. A man’s heart is cut out on the same plan as his stomach, only on a smaller scale, 7 Gladness Comes wit a better understanding of the transient nature of the many phys- ‘ical ills which vanish before proper ef- forts—gentle efforts—pleasant efforts— rightly directed. There is comfort in the knowledge that so many forms of sickness are not due to any actual dis- ease, but simply to a constipated condi- tion of the system, which the pleasant family laxative, Syrapof Figs, prompt- ly removes. That is why it is the onl remedy with millions of families. and is everywhere esteemed so highly by all who value good health. Its beneficial effects are due to the fact, that it is the one remedy which promotes internal cleanliness, without debilitating the organs on whichitacts. Itis therefore all important, in order to get its bene- ficial effects, to note when you pur chase, tyou have the genuine article, which is manufactured by the California Fig Syrup Co. only, and sold by all rep- utable druggists. If in the enjoyment of good health, and the system is regular, then laxe- tives or other remedies are not needed. If afflicted with any actual disease, one may be commended tothe most skillful physicians, but if in need of a laxative, then one should have the best, and with the weil-informed everywhere, Syrup of Figs stands highest and is most largely used and gives most general satisfaction.