Evening Star Newspaper, September 12, 1896, Page 18

18 — THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 189(-TWENTY PAGES, Which you continually asked if I had with me. Can I not know what it is at last?” “Is it possible that you do net know? Is it possible that I did not once tell you? ‘Why, it was the princess'—” . Just at that moment there was a terrible nolse down below. so that she did not fin- ish the sentence she had commenced. An opening and slamming of the outer doors, the heavy tread of feet, quick, sharp ques- tions and answers, and a prolonged and fu- Tious volley of oaths, followed by the crash of broken furniture. There was then a stumping around the lower floors, as of a person who was lame, or who had but one Jeg. “That,” said I, in a tone of conviction, “is the baron.” “Are you sure?” asked the quondam princess, breathlessly. “If it 1s so, we must escape at once. After what has hap- pened, he must not find me here with you. If you knew him as I do, you would not wonder why.” She caught hold of my arm in her anxi- ety. It was delightful to have her clinging io me, and showing that she had so much confidence in me, and for her sweet sake I could have defied von Pilsener and his en- tire household. “Come with me,” said I, in tones of mag- nificent assurance, “and I promise that he shall not even see you." It was useless to think of the carriage. We must find our Way out of the mansion and get away on foot. I took her by the arm, firmly but tenderly, and led her swiftly out of the room and along the corridor, in the direc- tion opposite to that whence we had first come. We entered an apartment at the end of the hallway, and closed the door be- hind us. As we did so, I heard that dot and carry one step on the main staircase. We were just in time, as the baron was evidently Coming upstairs after us. After passing through several other chambers, We found a narrow pair of stairs, by mean of which we descended to the first floor. We then went here and there, seeking a mode of egress other than the main en- trance, but in vain, until at last I perceived a large French window which led out upon some sort of veranda or balcony. When I had unfastened it and we had passed out I found that we were still some six feet from the ground. Fortunately, she was a courageous girl. I believe she would have sprung from it, rather than go back and face the detestable von Pilsener. After I had let myself down to the ground she climbed over the balustrade and I took her in my arms and set her gently down upon the turf. It was but a moment that I held her, and I willingly would have prolonged it. It had stopped raining, and, the clouds having cleared away to some extent, we could take a very goed account of our sur- roundings. The hcuse stood in the midst of @ large park or inclosure, in which were @ great many shrubs and trees. With some difficulty we threaded our way in and out through the bushes until, finally, we came to a thick and impervious hedge. I knew there must be an opening in it somewhere and we did at last find one, though it was quite narrew. I got through it easily enough, but it was with great trouble as to her skirts and her hair that the fair Hilda accomplished it; but, at the end, it was sefely done, and we’ now stood upon the street or highway of the town. Looking back we saw that every apart- ment of the chateau was being Iighted up, in a frantic and furtous search for us. While we were gazing, a sash in one of the veindows of the second story was flung up, gnd the stlhouette of a broad-shouldered man appeared in the opening. It was un- doubtedly von ilsener, who was peering into the darkness of the grounds in search of us My first wish was to conduct her to some safe and comfortable plece, where she could pass the night, or where we could procure & convey: to take her hack to Olde: dorf. So we passed along the highway, and, yout @ furlong, coming to a turn, we teok !t, and went on quite brskly in this new direction. We seemed to be coming rrore into the heart of the town. We could see lights in the distance, and we passed sereral houses, though from their dark ap pearance we judged them vacant. It was now thai I told Hilda von Waldeck the full story of the baron’s misfortune and how I came to enter the wonderful door and was taken by Melanie for the baren. She was delighted most at hearing of ven Pilxener’s accident, and regretted that he could net have been held all night. We b reed that he must have been liber- aied very soon after I left him, snce he “Not a atep do you go.” had followed us and had arrived in this fame place, St Estephe or whatever else it mcht he, almost as soon as we. She agreed with me perfectly as to the “xht of the reasons which I gave for oring her m'stake and personating the and so we came to a very amicable vnderstanding, and it was as if I had known her fer a week, instead of for two es hours, pugh she was quite fatigued from her exertions, and though there had come up- on her a reaction from the excitement of the previous hour, yet she walked along ewiftly and bravely and was most bright end companionable. I, at last, made her take my arm, and the rest of the way she leaned upon me very trustingly and almost lovingly. We now came to where the road became more [ke the street of a town, and, hap- ening upon a turn to the left, we took it, for the reancn that the lights we had seen lay in that direction. It charmed me ex- ceedingly to hear Fraulein von Waldeck talk, as her voice was melodious, and her expressions original and quaint. For this reason as much es any other, I reminded her that the arrival of the baron had in- terrupted her before she had finished tell- ing me what was that mysterious and im- Portant object about. which, all-along, she hed been so anxious. “Why,” said she, and she laughed mer- rily, “is {t possible that I did not tell you after all? Several times I have been upon the point of telling you. It has been upon the tip of my tongue and something has elways Interrupted me. I will tell you right here and now, so that there will be an end of it. It was the—" Azain the magic word was fated to re- main unspoken, and it was I, myself, this time who prevented her from finishing the sentence. I saw something before me at that precise moment which drove all other eS out of my head. I grasped her arm «1 across the way, cutting short ch at the point where I have insert- ed the dash. “What do you see across the street?” I eried. “A long stone wall,” she answered. “Have you ever seen one like it? What dees it resemble?” es, I have seen one like it. It resem- bles exactly the old Burgerschlact wall.” It resembles it, because it is nothing ec. See, the fron picket fence in front of ft, the tvy all over it, the embrasures and turrets at the top. and away off there, al- most at the end, is the wooden bridge, and the little oak door, where I entered without intending to do so. What do you make out of this mystery, Hilda von Waldeck?” “J do not know what to make out of it,” shé «aid, with a thoughtful scowl of her grched eyebrows and a pueker of her rosy 4 Vell. I will tell you all about it,” said I, for it had come to me like a flash of light. ning. “That infernal vagabond of a coach. tan has driven us four or five miles out into the country, has taken us over moun- tains, dewn into valleys and through for. ests, and has brought us back to Oldendorf again and landed us on a spot not e quarter of a mile from the place where we started. it was true. What a scheme the wicked Ludwig von Pilsener had concocted with his driver! First it was to get rid of Melanie, then to abduct the lady and to fmmure her in his own chateau in Olden- (crf, while she supposed that he had taken her to St. Estephe. We looked at each other, and at the same moment burst out laughing. “What will you do now?” I asked. “of course, you know where to find the narrow atreet or lane into which we came from your apartments. Shall I escort you thither?" “Ob, It Is not necessary. I have with me, fortunately, the key to the door in the old wall, and by that way I can easily find thy way to my-chamber.” : - As 1 a:corpanied my beautiful friend (for I knew by that time, of course, that she was my friend) across the bridge to the small door, my thoughts were those of curiosity and of pleasant retrospection. On the pickets of the fence, which had so splendidly done their office in gripping Von Pilsener’s heel, there were some small rem- rents, or rather shreds of cloth. This was all that remained to remind me of that very singular, not to say fantastic occurrence. She produced the key and readily opened the door. I was very sad at the idea of parting with her, perhaps forever, and I took her hand and began to stammer out some kind of an adieu. PART VI. “Oh, you needn't think that I am going to let you go on in that way,” said Hilda von Waldeck. “It would be a poor return for your consideration for me and for the real pleasure which I have taken in your society. And, leaving all that out of the question, not a step do you go until you have heard my story. You do not ask me why it was that I proposed, in the first place, to run away with the baron, nor why I was doing it In the place of and under the name of the princess. You do not ask me why it was that, having this project, I should not know the baron by sight, and why I should think that he did not know me from the princess. You are the most incomprehensible of mortals. A woman, in your place, would already have died of curiosity. I find myself actually obliged to force the knowledge of these things upon you, that I may set myself right in your opinion.” “The reason,” said-I, “that I have not asked you about these things was that I thought you would tell me about them if you really wished me to know. They have all along seemed paradoxical and inex- plicable, and I have been devoured with curiosity to know their true meaning. I will, therefore, await your explanations with bated breath, and I also wish to re- mind you that you have yet failed to tell me what it was of the princess’ belongings which you were so anxious to secure from the baron’s clutches.” “Yes, and this last time,” she answered, laughingly, “it was your fault alone that 1 did not tell you. I had it at my tongue’s erd, and you interrupted me to call my at- tention to thix old Burgerschlact wall. To punish you, 1 vow that I will aot tell you what it is until the very last thing; until, in fact, I have told you everything else. If, in the course of my story, it becomes nec- essary to refer to it, I will use the word ‘blank.’ So come on, for I am anxious that you should know the whole of this affa‘r before another quarter hour.” I willingly followed her, as you may well believe. You may also believe that I again found it necessary to be led by the hand through those first dark passages, where I had before been assisted by Melanie. There was much more pleasure in it now than be- fore, and 1 was in no hurry to reach those regions of the residential palace which Were illuminated. for I had in mine the warm patrician hand of the woman I loved. When ! say “loved,” I do not exaggerate, for, from being her companion through that night alone, I had become deeply, pas- sionately, everlastingly in love with her; ard I already felt that I must have her, or that life would be no object to me—and also, that 1 woula nave her. Wh we had arrived in the small and dainty salon in whicn she had first received me, she bade me excuse her, and, absen herself for a few minutes, she returned to me gowned in a robe that was of a dove colored stik, something like a peignoir, soft and clinging, and, sinking into the corner of a luxurious canape, called me to sit be- side her. I did so. She was some time in giving me her nar- rative, and I stall condense it and set down only that part which fs strictly necessary. The following are her words, as nearly as 1 can recollect: “As I told vou before, my friend, Princess Stephanie and I were playmates from cur earliest years. We have always loved each other devotedly, and are, in fact, more like twin sisters than like cousins. This will explain some things which otherwise would be difficult to believe, as will, also, the fact that we have always been considered to look somewhat alike, though Stephanie is older than I by two years. Now, I must have you know that the princess is vir- tuous as a saint, and that she Is, besides, lively, sweet and amiable. She is talented and intelligent, but, alas, in one direction, about which I will speak later, there is no end to her folly. It is this one failing among her many charming characteristics, which led her to commit, rot long ago, a most frightful indiscretion—an indiscretion which has already wrecked her happiness, and which even threatens to upset the house of Andel. I was absent at the time with my brother in Paris. The begin- ning of her misfortunes, which were the re- sult of this indiscretion, was about three morths ago. One day she found that she had lost her—lost her blank, as I said I would call it.” Hilda von Waldeck looked at me, with a rozuish twinkle in her dear gray eyes, and then continued: E “When she found that she had lost her blank she had no rest day or night; she turned everything topsy-turvy, and looked for it everywhere for a week, but it was all in vain: and the worst of it was that, from the nature of it, she didn't dare let any one know. that she had lost it. Time passed by, and her chief anxiety, which was that some one might find it, was allayed little by httle. Then, suddenly, when she felt most secure, certain things happened which could only happen through some person or persons using the advantage which the pos- session of her blank would give. The un- fortunate girl was not long left in doubt as to the identity of the man who had found what she had lost. It was the baron, Lud- wig von Pilsener, and I believe no more de- graded, cruel, unprincipled scoundrel ever lived. He had the audacity to write her, telling her that he was the author of the events which had so terrified her, that he had her blank in safe keeping, and to offer shamelessly to make terms with her for its return. In an agony of apprehension, she immediately wrote me what had happened, and I hastened to her with the wings of the wind. When I arrived I found that she had already had several interviews with Jarno, the emiseary and intimate of the baren’s, a man who is, if anything, worse than his master, and the terms which he had proposed for the return of the prin- cess’ blank were no more or less than the hand of the princess. You look surprised, but you must remember that I told you that even the safety of the house of An was in the baron’s hands. When I tell you these awful and important secrets, it should show you what perfect confidence I have in you. I have only been with you a few short hours, but there has been some- thing in your words, your actions and your eyes which makes me willing to trust you with everything.” I interrupted her. “And yet I am afraid you would not trust me with the best of all, with that which would be sweeter than life itself.” She looked perplexed for a moment, then blushed divinely, and continued her story. “I must now tell you, and this will ex- plain some things which have appeared somewhat strange to you, that the baron has spent most of his life away from the principality, and had only recently returned to Oldendorf at the time he found the prin- cess’ blank. How, when or where he found it remains a mystery. The princess has never seen him, and she had good reason to suppose that he had never seen her, ex- cept at a distance. I have never seen the man at all. This being the case, it oc- curred to me in my great desire to shield my beloved friend, that, alded by my re- semblance to Stephanie, I might be able to impose upon the baron by substituting my- self for the princess, and in some way ob- taining from him the princess’ blank. Prompted by me, Stephanie at last con- sented, through Jarno, to run away with von Pilsener. It was necessary, at least, that there should be one interview between the principals. It took place at the masked ball a week ago. She went through the ordeal bravely; the arrangements for the elopement were completed, and through it all he never got a glimpse of her face. >You will now see why, when I met you tonight, I supposed you were the baron, and why 1 was not surprised that you took me for the princess. There is one thing more; 1 promised to tel! you what it was that the princess lost. 1 am anxious to tell you, as 1 am tired of using always that monotonous ‘plank.’ The one failing of the princess, which I before mentioned, and a frightful and grievous failing I acknowledge it is, is her penchant for gossip. 1 believe she is insane upen the subject. There is no liLel- ous tale, no questionuble episode, no risque story, about the prominent people of the principality, which she does not, in some way, hear and remember. She has, stored away in her memory, every scandalous in- cident which has happened in and near the court in twenty years. If this were all, it would be bad enovgh, heaven knows; but it Is a thousand times worse. She would not utter one of these things for the world; but she is so besottedly foolish that she has, from time to time, written them all, frcm beginning to end, in her diary. It is the diary that she has lust. Do you won- der at her anxiety? A month after the book had disappeared, some of these scandals which she supposed known only to herself, commenced to circulate about the court. People began to receive anonymous cards accusing them and others of heinous crimes against society. Children were sep- arated from their parents, wives from their husbands. The princéss was in despair, even before the baron made himself known to her. She had written in the book some awful secret about her uncle, the prince, and had pinned to the page a scrap of pa- per, upon which was the proof of what she wrote. It was the fear of the publication of this secret which made her ready to ac- cede to ulmost anything ven Pilsener asked her. If she could obtain the diary, together with this scrap of paper, the house of An- del at least would be safe, as the buron could do nothing without it. This is the Teason of our frantic efforts to get the diary. I have now told you all. you bleme me for anything I have done I talked to her calmly at length, and gave her such advice as I could think of, in re- lation to the matter; but it was poor com- fort that I gave her, after all. Then I spoke of myself, and told her how much 1 had learned to think of her in that short time. I grew eloquent as I proceeded, «nd said more than I intended to. I told her how perfect and how adorable I thought her, and, finally, to her great surprise, no doubt, there. having been such short ac- quaintance, I asked her to be mine. She turned away her head and looked to be in a melting mood. Then, all at once, she seemed to take a sudden resolution, and she glanced up to me and spoke. “I shall never marry while the princess is in misery. There is one chance for you, though I fear it is a poor one. Get the princess’ diary from the hands of the baron ard I am yours.” There was indeed small chance for me, if it depended upon that. I rose and thrust my hands into the pockets of my blouse, and looked at her inflexible, yet lovely face. In these same pockets were the two or three articles which had fallen from the baron’s coat when he was groveling at my feet, with his heel between the fence pick- ets. My fingers closed mechanically upon the memorandum book which I mentioned before as one of these articles. “What kind of a diary was this one that the princess lost?” I asked her. “Oh, it was quite a small book, bound in red moroce: she answered. “It was one of Stephanie's peculiarities to write a very She threw her soft arms around my neck, minute hand, and to condense everything as much as possible.” A sudden inspiration setzed me. I drew the baron’s memorandum book from iny pocket, and, handing it to Hilda von Wal- deck, said: “How will this answer?” She took it with a perplexed air ana opened it and looked at its pages. Then she gave a great cry of joy and sprang up ard threw her soft arms around my neck and kissed me rapturously a dozen times. for it was the princess’ diary. A month afterward we were married. The End. a S “PRAYER” WALTUN Easy Terms on Which Nature Offers Contentment. From the Pittsburg News. Since money cannot purchase happiness, nor a great name command It, why not study to secure it on the easy terms of- fered by nature? “Ike Walton's Prayer,” by James Whit- comb Riley, expresses the sentiment that is at the bottom of genuine happiness <J crave, dear Lord, Jo Poundtess: hoard , hor kine. vasure heaps of anything— ta little hut be min at the hearthstone I may hear ricket sing, And have the’shine of n’S eyes to make, ny poor sak, imple home a place divine; Just the ‘ot—the ericket’s chirm— Lave, and the smiling face of her. Gold, and lands, and ships, and flocks cut but a small figure in tae matter of genuine human happiness. They are con- venient if one wants to travel, to dazzle his neighbors, or to buy votes, but happi- ness comes by other means; and that {s why Ike Walton contiaues to pray: “I pray not for Great riches, nor For vast tes, and castle balls— Give me to hear ‘the Lare footfalls Of child: An oaken floor, New-riteed with sunshine, or bespread With but the tiny coverlet And pillow for the baby’s head; Ard pray Thou, may The door stand open and the Send ever in a genth breeze With fragrance from the locust trees, And drowsy moan of doves, and blur Of robin-chirps and drone bees, With afterhushes of the stir Of, interminglieg sounds, and then ‘The good wife and the smile of ber Filling the silences aguin— ‘The cricke And the w Dear Lord of Deny me not And what could be more clearly in har- mony with the spirit of true Christianity than the sentiment expressed in the con- clusion of this wonderfully human, yet di- vinely inspired, prayer: “I pray not that Men tremble at My power of place And lordly_sway— Tonly pray for simple grace To look my neighbor in the face Full honestly from day to d Yield me his horny palm to hold ‘And T'll not pray For goll— ‘The trnned face, garlanded with mirth, It hath the Kingliest smile on earth— Tre swart brow, diamomled with sweat, Hath never need of coronet. And zo I reach, Near Lord, to Thee, Atd do beseech Thou givest ‘The wee cot, and the cricket Love, and the 2! ‘all » cot, Art Treasures Dixcovered in Milan. From the London Chronicle. By removing from the Archiepiscopal Palace at Milan a number of pictures by the old masters, which had hitherto hung in the gallery of that palace, and therefore out of sight of the public, the celebrated Brera Gallery is enriched by sixteen works of great merit, among them a “Last -Sup- per,” by Titian, which is said to be of su- perlative beauty; three small pictures by Luke of Leyden (Luca d'’Ollanda); a “Vir- gin and Child,” by Paris Bordone, and a | magnificent Correggio, representing the “Adoration of the Magi.” These pictures have been rescued from their obscurity by the present cardinal archbishop, Monsignor Ferrari, who in return has received some decorative pictures of lesser value to fill up the spaces left vacant on the walls of the palace. This is an example which might be followed elsewhere by archbishops and bishops who have fine pictures {n their palaces which no one can see. ——$<o-—_ The Dude as a Suitor. From Filegende Blatter. “Well, what w: yesterday?” “I had to give it up. The bouquet was too rake I—I could not get it through the joor. the result of your wooing COIN AND. BUTTONS A Place in This Gountry Where Their Parity Has Been Established. ey eeeeeee NAVAJO INDIANS AND SILVER DOLLARS Sot = Bara Used as Money,,and Also to Fill Buttenholes. FIRM IN THEIR FAITH ° ing the theory that buttons are quite as good as coin for the heathen,and has con- HE SMALL BOY I 1s credited with hold- ristently put his theory into practice when he was in- structed to contribute to the funds of the foreign - missionary societies. There are in this. country, how- ever, a considerable body of people who. have succeeded in es- tablishing the parity of*coin and buttons, and more, in maintaining it. Not many years ago the only money cur- rent on the Navajo reservation was silver. Paper money and gold were occasionally found in the traders’ stores, but the Indians would have none of it; with them it was silver or no trade. They would readily ac- cept an individual paper from some one known to them, and such orders were fre- quently issued by arrangement on stores fifty or even 100 miles away, but they were always paid in silver on presentation. At the present time some of these Indians understand paper money and will accept it in ‘payment, or rather they understand that a “green paper” 4s a general order on al) the stores and will be redeemed in silver on presentation to any of them. It has the same standing as the “red paper,” or dis- bursing agent's check, sometimes issued to them in payment for work. But the bulk of the tribe still demand silver, and all look with suspicion on gold, which is regarded s ths storckeeper’s money. Silver is known as “pesh-lakai,” the white metal, and ts highly esteemed, not only as a circulating at but also for ornaments and jew Must Pay in Specie. The principal wealth cf the Navajos, and they are a wealthy tribe, has always been and stl fs in sheep and goats and horses, originally stolen from other Indian tribes and from the Mexicans. The bulk of their business with the traders is in the sale of wool and pelts. ‘The wool clip is consider: ably over 100,000 pounds per annum, and &s they are not an agricultural peopl: but live principajjy on the fiesh of she amd goats, there is a large A large supply of silver co fcr the conduct of this business, especially since competition, among the traders has brought about the custom of pa for all wool and pelts fi’ ¢ash, instead of by i paper slip or memorandum, to be afterwar traded out in the store. ‘In other words, the flat money ofthe traders has been en- urely replaced by specie payments, rade in pi n is necessary This resumption or establishment cf specie payments...wai complished only some seven or eight TS ago, and was strongly oppesea py the traders. The cor duct of business is more difficult for th now than forme and during the wool season, in the spring. when more than 90 per cent of th » ds marl , the most Strenuous efforts. are necc to pre- vent a scarcity of gurren The trad curse the day when: one of the Inaugurated the. practice of silver coin in trade, but it 4 sible to go back to the old number paying out 1Gt Now pos- Utions, ‘Turned Them Lato Buttons. Until a few ye: he sil- ver coin that ntry re- mained there. Being paid out by the trad- ere or acquired in various ways, tt did not return to the as coin, but Promptly turned over to the silve: and by them manufactured into bu and ornaments of various kinds. buttons passed current in the store their weight in coin, and formed an effe ve hum of exchenge among the Ind elves, as thetr va’ nt. - button really formed a better cireu- i To a people who nO pockets in their ciothing they are r Tore convenient to handle, iz tached to various artic equipme Navajos, like most primitive peop i some not so primitive, are much ad. aicted to gambling, and it is not uncommon to see a dozen or more of them squattin: on the ground around a blanket read ont for a cloth, ali intensely interested in the game. If a run of ill luck exhausts the capital of a player he hus but to cut a button off his moccasin or his lezging., A player has been known to carry ona gany for thirty-six hours continuously with the buttons which formed part of his clothing when he commenced. On the ground ae conventence, there is everything 10 be sad for the button, and but litile for the coin from the Navajo standpoint. - Buttons Were Demonetized. It is hardly surpricing, therefore, that of the thcusands of dollars that went into the reservation in silver coin but little came out. The parity of coin and buttons was waintained by the law of supply and de. mand, but finally the supply of buttons be- came so great that the traders organized against the Indians, and by a secret agree. ment among themselves not to accept sil. ver at its regularly established and usual value, except in the form of coin, buttons were demonetized. The industry has never recovered from the blow it then received. Time was, and that not long ago, when the average Navajo carried from twenty to fitty dollars’ worth of silver ornaments on his person, and as the tribe numbers over 12,000, a considerable quantity of sil- ver coin was absorbed by it. Of the many hundreds of pounds of silver which have been worked into buttons and other orna. ments, it is coubtful whether a. single pound has reached the tribe in any shape other than coin, and all but a minute per- centage was in American coin, At the Fresent time the clothing and personal or- naments of the averege Navajo, exclusive of buttons, would hardly be appraised a! fifty cents, What has become of all this silver is a problem; protably a large pro- portion of it, in thet form of silver riding bridles, ete., is ip thf hands of the traders in pawn. am The Navajos Hay the hard times 3Thi uffered cruelly from removal of the duty on wool practifallygdestroyed half their wealth at one #low@ A sack of wool for which they for: ‘lyfReccived $23 to $25 now brings them cnl¥, $1# and they have prac- tically nothing Put Sool to sell. They are bearing up ,well, MBwever, and although they have always been warriors and rob- bers, and since the American occupation of the country have, Itt€d by their flocks and herds, they are Sow'making an earnest ef- fort to become faringf: One Result of the Times. One result of tHe hard times has been the rehabilitation of the silver button. The traders have been compelled to accept but- tons at their cof wélght or go out of busi- ness. This wag,not‘ accomplished all at once, but gradually and through stress of necessity. Other silver ornaments have shrunk in value, but why they should the Indian cannot understand. On button values the Navajo stands firm: he insists that the parity of coin and but- tons shall be maintained. It is inconceiv- able to him that a button made from a dol- lar, and perhaps showing the face of the coin on its. reverse side, should not be worth a dollar anywhere and at all times. No amount of talk will convince him that it is er ever can be worth less, and he con- tinues to have his silver dollars beaten up into buttons. The traders are powcrless, for so long as the Indian:is willing to re- ceive back as a dollar the button which he passes in for that amount the trader must accept it or lose the trade. How They Are Made. The manufacture of these buttons is a very simg@ process. Those of small size are usually plain, and generally made di- rectly from the coin they represent, dimes or quarters, as the case may be. A cavity is drilled into a plece of old iron, usually a discarded horse shoe, and in the smailer sizes, of regular hemispherical shape. The coin is hammered or driven into this until it 1s properly shaped, being annealed at frequent intervals, if necessary. A shank made of brass or copper wire is then sol- dered in, the face is rubbed smooth and polished, and the work is done. The whole operation consumes but a few minutes. The larger buttons are flatter and com- monly fluted, sometimes with serrated ¢lges. Bosses are also soldered on to them. Very often the reverse or inner si-le of the button retains clearly the stamp of the coin from which it was made, hut some- times 25-cent buttons or &-cent buttons are made from dollars; in that case the metal is hammered out with frequent an- nealing into thin sheets, and cut into planchets or blanks of the required size. Belt plates, which are simply very large buttons, bracelets and various ornaments which contain more than one dollar in sil- ver are molded. The silver is melted in a crucible, formerly of native manufacture, but now purchased from the traders, and Poured into forms cut with a cold chisel into slabs of soft sandstone. The mold is greased with mutton fat, The cast is sub- sequently dressed and polished with bits ef sandstone, sand and wood ashes, or in re- cent times with files and emery. -_— RIC SOUNDING. ELE Dificulty of Cable Laying Largely Overcome by it. From the New York Journal. It is said by the engineers who conducted the laying of the Amazon river cable to Manaos that the difficulties of their enter- prise would have been almost insuperable if the ordinary methods of sounding had had to be relied upon. There were no charts to go by, the river bottom was con- stanly shifting, and the softness of the soil, mostly alluvial clay, would allow the lead to sink into it for several feet. An electric device, filly named a submarine sentinel, was suspended from the cable ship and set at, say, five fathoms. ..59 long as there was no signal from the “sentinel” the engineer could steam ahead Without fear: but the moment the ship got into water shallower than the gauge fixed upon, the sounder gave an alarm, and spe- cial reckonings were taken. A somewhat simpler device, having the same end in has been invented, the idea being to have it used as a substitute for the hand lead as a vessel approaches a coast shoai in darkness or fog, is doubtful of his beari ts of a metallic ¢ tight chamber. or when the captain The apparatus inda, having a Within the chamber works a piston, upon the outer edge of which is a heavy ball. When the appa- ratus ts swinging clear in the wate: weight of this ball keeps open’ an ele circuit; but as soon as the sounder touches the bottom the circuit is closed, and. the current, conveyed by wires running in the cable by which the sounder is attached to ings a bell In any department of he cost of the device is quite Mlerate, and its inventor claims that its Operation is simple and sure — ses NO TAXES IN GLASGOW. Revenue of the City to Be Derived From [ts Franchixes. ago Journal, It is said that the city cf Glasgow will levy no taxes after January 1, 1897; that its entire income is to be derived from public works now in its own possession. ‘There is cheer for other municipalities in this announcement, but for Chicago at leas: there is no present prospect of a realization of the Glasgow ideal. From the contro!- ler’s statement it uppears that the total re- celpts of this city for 18!5 were something ever $30,070,000. Of this amount over $11,- #0,000 came from the tax levy. If the city owned ail the ges plants and all the street tailways the incone frem them would no: be one-half of this sum. In iNW the n earnings of the three great str rail systems amounted to $3,394,102. Nobody tie outside knows just what the gas com- : n, but from what is known « pital stock and the declaration ienus it is probable that their net earn- are in the neig! 5 xow ts less than haif the size of ¢ cago, and its growth has been muck: slow er. Its affairs are run upon business prir ciples and are not tainted Hence it was better prepar plications and had f fece. But if we m: ample in all respects From the ¢ end govern ourselves accor rew applican sear for pu It should be an inviolable rule with us nm er to give away franchises without ade- quate compensation, and perhaps when ccmes to the renewal of street car gran in the rot far di ft plan may be cited w course of the negotiations. ——-4a- A Young Lawyer's Dream. From the Milw Two young Wiscons waukee a few brightest members of the U. School class of "9. One has been dabbling in politics, Leen a delegate to a number of conventions and is head and front of his party in the city in which he lives. The other has given his entire time to his pro- fession and is laying by a gocd deal of money. While the two were on the streets talking politics, a friend of each came along and entered into the discussion. Finally the friend said to the money-mak- ing man: “You see, ‘Bill’ is getting to the front— the first thing you know he will be in the lower house of Congress, while you remaii a plodding barrister.” Yes, that is true," replied Nath “Bill” will go to Washington; be re-elected three or four times, laid aside, and coni back looking for a practice and a chance to earn some money to pay his debts; while I, my dear éir, will have made my littie ‘pile,’ and can’ buy—let me see—a seat in the United States Senate!” ——— +ee- Autumn Days, Written for The Evening What witching spell through dreaming autumn days Enthralls the world in gold and amethyst; The distant blue enmeshed in purple mist Down whitened shores the gleaming seuds ablaze, All tremulous and puleing through the haze That meets the sleeping waves in mellow tryst; Where wh ing gulls dip low and now uprist From dripping wings flash buck thelr glinting rays. SEO during versity Law Oh, peaceful time! Within the silver ‘To watch the sapp It ie enough to be run In phantom silence to the distant sea. Such magic every roving sense confines, Content to linger on till day is do —WILL H, CHANDLEE, ——w Three Hundred Sammer Schools, From Scribner's. Three hundred and odd summer schools! The bureau of education is the authority, and a really formidable array of circu- lars, programs and curicula which have reached the writer would furnish convic- tion to any who needed visible support for the backbone of these statistics. new This" method of occupying and edifying in the vacation months is very wth of the past ten years—and it has only reached these surprising dimen- sicns in 1896, though Harvard began sys- tematic summer work in 1869. Some of the schools are private ventures, others are run by corperations or universities, some are conducted for gain, others purely in the cause of knowledge.-. Some give Instruction In a particular branch of science or art; some.are only for teachera; some are for the general public. This combination of the picuic and the lecture rocm has its forerunner in the school founded by Louis ‘Agassiz in Penikese Island in 1873. : ————— oo England’s Old Trees. From the Philadciphia Press. The oldest tree in England is the yew tree at Braburn, in Kenf, which is sald to be 8,000 years old, while at Fortignal, in Perth- shire, is one nearly as old. At Ankerwyke house, near Staines, is a yew tree which was famous at the date of the signing of Magna Charta, 1215. ‘and later was the trysting place of Henry VIII and Anna Boleyn. The three yews at Fountains Abbey are at icast’ 1,200 years old, and beneath them the founders of the abbey sat in 1132. There are no famous caks that rival any yew in ege, 2,000 years being the greatest age at- tained. Damorey’s oak, in Devonshire, which was blown down ‘in 1703, had-this distinction. Cowthorpe oak, near Wether- by, Yorkshire, is said to be 1,000 years old. Highest of all in Leavening Power.—Latest U.S. Gov't Report Royal Powder COAST LINE SHIPS Bids Will Be Opened on Monday for Three New Vessels. DESCRIPTION OF THE TYPE How the Sea Fighters Will Look When Completed. SOME LARGE GUNS —— ONDAY WILL BE n eventful day at Navy Depart- ment, for then will be opened the bids for the three new sea-going, coast-line battle ships author- zed by act of Con- gress approved June 16 of the present year; and then, too, it is said, the names of these new guard- jans of our peace will nouued. Based upon the contract price of the Kearsarge and her sister ship, the Kentucky, now bulld- ing at Newport News, Va., Congress set the individual cost limit of the new vessels »,000, armor and armament ex- ; and it is of interest to know what this sum will secure. A descripticn of one applies equally to the others, and the principal features and seneral dimersions of the type are: Length on load water line, 368 feet; beam, ex- treme, 72 feet 2.5 inches; freeboard, for- ward, 19 fect 6 inches; freeboard, aft, 1% feet 6 inches; normal displacement, indicated horse power, ; Speed, in knots, an hour, estimated, 16; normal coal supply, 8 tons; total bunker capacity, 1,200 tons. Offersively the ship will possess two very pcwerful batteries. The matin bai- tery will be composed of four thirteen- inch breech-lcading rifles an fourteen six- inch rapid-fire rifles of like type. The sec- ondary battery, designed to repel torpedo — =a a wall of hardened steel five and a half inches thick, and before us stands the mid- ship battery of four six-inch rifies—each §un isolated from the others by splinter bulkheads similar to that in the citadel above. Sull forward, and just beyond the fourth gun, we pass again through an athwa' ship of five and one-half-inch steel, past a six-pounder, and again we stand by a solit: six-inch rifle, peering, like those farther aft, through six inches of steel_and firing Itkewise through an arc of 45 degrees. Firing five times a min- ute, at each discharge sending a 100-pound shell of hardened steel, these seven guns would greet an enemy in that brief while with 3,50 pounds of explosive missiles, before which, a mile away, six-inch armor yrould wither lke bunch grass in a prairie re. On this same deck a considerable of the crew of five hundred and will be housed, and from this deck we enter the barbette for the forward turret, passing through toughened steel fifteen inches thick, up a short flight of steps, and then we stand upon the loading and turning platform for those great guns. Plece your hand upon the cool breach of either of the pieces, and it is hard to be- lieve that they can harbor the possibilities of that scorching blast which alone, hut for the heavy plates upon the deck, could brush away the planking with the ease of ctaff. Swing open the breach plug and look forward forty feet through that shin- ing bore, till the fifty-two rifled grooves give a twisted perspective, which dwindles to a seemingly impossible passage for the 1,100-pound projectile, and one gets some notion of the source of that wonderful power of penetration and the origin awful force which can carry that a bombarding distance of twelve mil part twenty more and send ft undeformed throveh twenty-five inches of steel a thousand yards away. From within this Hichborn balanced har- bette turret the two guns peer out through a slanting, deflective face of seventeon inches of steel, are loaded lehind the pro- tecting walls two inches lighter, and are turred frem side to side through an are of 210 degrees. The possibilities of a broadside from four of these guns, ser onded by the fire of the six-inch rapid- fire rifles, are something the moxt vivid im- agination could not overestimate. On the berth deck, two decks below this fighting station, will be quartered the greater part of the officers and crew, and way aft will be stationed some of the six- pounders for torpedo-boat attack, and on this deck, too, will be worked the torpedo itubes, the sick tended, the food cooked, ice made, and the general living routine of the craft conducted. The water-line region will be guarded by @ belt of armor seven and a half feet broad, four of which are below water the normal draft, extending from abrexst the after barbette forward to the stem, From barbette to barbette this belt will have a maximum thickness at the top of sixt and a half inches, tapering to nine and a half at the edge below water. From abreast the forward barbette to the stem It will gradually taper to four inches at the TYPE OF THE CLASS. boats, light craft, and to sweep the un- rmored parts of an enemy, will consist of sixteen gsix-pounder rapid-fire guns, four under raj-id-fire guns, four machine tling guns and one field piece. In ddition to this foree an allowance ef gun cotton for submarine mining and eight au- e torpodoes, to be discharged from the two tubes on each broadsile amidships, will be carried for that silent and more deadly phase of naval warfare. A Ponderous Mass. To the eye the delusive lightness of white paint will not be enough to carry the con- victien of so modest a draft as twenty- three and a half feet for this ponderous mass of nearly 12,000 tons of metal, yet the skill of the designers has wrought this in the face of greater draft of all our Eu- rupean compeers. {t.s in this very feature tnat the new ships will be the more ef- fective, being able to enter any of our im- portant seaboard harbors, while at the saine time able to carry on an aggressive warfare, end that beyond the reacn of her heavier drafted foreign classmates. In fact, these ships will draw less water than our armored cruisers New York and Brook- lyn. ore peint of design these new ships are combinations of the best features of the Towa and the Kearsarge types, modified by the natural advances which each succeed- ing sbip is bound to show, together with certain initial improvements. A fighting craft of any order is neces- sarily a compromise of certain essentials, among which gunpowder, armor protec- tion—thickners and scope of dis*ribution corsidered—speed, coal endurance or radius of steaming actioa and maneuve! are mcst important, and to these ends the present vessels bear the stamp of mod- ernity in every favorable sense. Aw Seen From the Deck. Stand upon the upper deck, beside the forward turret for two of the 13-inch guns, and save for the presence of a couple of ventilators, 2 steam winch, a capstan, and a pair of cranes for handling the ponderous archors, the deck runs smoothly to the bow, about which it spreads outboard with a considerable overtang, yielding more deck room and forming an easy break for seas that would otherwise board her. Back and above rises the superstructure, upon whore deck rest the boats, clear beyond the reach of the heavy guns. On the bridges stand the search lights tnat can pierce the darkest night with broad paths of noonday brightness, and there, too, are set some of the six-pounders that are to meet the on- slaught of torpedo craft, while in the tops of the two military masts are placed one- pounders «nd Gatlings to help in the same service and to swcep an ex y's decks and open ports. Just back of the forward tur- ret and below the chart house rests the conning tower, within whose rounded walis of ten-inch steel the captam will guide his craft into acticn. A like tation, but only six Inches’ thick, is placed on the superstructure deck below the after bridge and right abaft the mam- mast, and there the admiral will order his signals and take his place in action, With- in either place’ the commanding officer stands in touch with every vital part of his ship, and knows to a nicety the condition of everything needful to efficient control. Speaking tutes, (cic»honcs, call bells, range indicators and telegraphs of all sorts stud those walls and fend branchiag nerves from these brain centers, currying every- where their messages and bringing buck the acknowledgment of the.r seception and discharge. Turn aft. and right at us po'ats one of the six-inch guns as it peers out of its cita- del of six-inch steel. Go inside, and there we find the two guns separated by a bulk head or wall of steel an inch and a hal! thick—a protection against flying splinters and the spread of the noxious fumes of ex- plosive shell. Out again just abaft this ci:- adel, down a flight of steps, and we stand upon ‘the after main deck and nearly abreast the after turret for the heavy guns. Turning short about and in through bow. At each end of the thickest part of the side belt a twelve-inch bulkhead of steel will run athwartship to the barbette— opposing a raking fore-and-aft fire. On the four heavy walls thus formed will rest @ flat protective deck of steel two und three- quarter inches thick, and below and within this compass will rest the engines, boilers, magazines and shell rooms, and beneath the added shelter of the water without and many feet of coal within. From these athwariship bulkheads two slanting decks will run to the bow and the stern. The after one will be four inches thick, and the forward one, forming the backbone for the murderous Tam bow, will be an inch thinner. A continuous belt of corn pith cellulose—a material swelling rapidly when wet and capable of automatically plugging holes ad- mitting water—will be worked from stem to stern, supplementing the protectign offered by the disposition of coal and the six-inch steel along the sides above the heavy part of the armor belt. In addition to the many water-tight com- partments inte which the ship will be cut for added safety, a double bottom, reaching trom the keel up to the lower edge of the armor belt, and honeycombed by minute subdivisions, will help to minimize and localize damage. The least possible amount of wood will be used,and that fire-proofed by the process of known efficiency, that the chance of fire and flying splinters may be reduced to @ minimum. On each mast a set of electrical signals will flash their messages at night and do ble the chances of directing against the ac cident of battle, while incandescent glow will spread a happy semblance of sunshine through every nook and crook of the ship Down the lower half of the muinmast great blowers will draw fresh air and force 4. into every secret recess, driving away the noxious fumes and gases that may gather there. Immense pumps, with a minute capacity of thousands of gallons, will draw water from the irjured compartrents or fill them more quickly in case of fire. Four score and more of auxiliary engines will ease the tax upon the crew by turning the turrets, raising the powder and shot from their stores below and placing the heavy weights in the gure themselves by turning the rudder from side to side egetnst the rush of tons of seething water, by dis- charging ashes, loading coal, raising and handling the boats, and by doing other services leyond the power of the whole crew combined. The propelling machinery will consist of iwo triple-expansion engines, each in its own water-tight compartment, having cy inders of $1 and 7S inches in diam: ter, with a compound stroke of four feet Steam will be supplied by eight large, sin- gie-ended boilers in four scparate compart- ments. Under way and at full speed the engine room. of such a craft is a sight never to be forgotten. Ccmplex, but not confused, has- tening, but no: hurrying, the engines make one hundred and twenty turns a iinute, while the heavy shafts bear the force of the struggling mechanisms to the two six- teen-foot screws, which in turn force the ship through the water with a speed and Taomentum that mean destruction to every- thing struck. The exhausted steam is turned into the condensers, cooled by the discharge of ira- mense pumps driving through them a steady stream of thousands of gallons of cold sea water, ard, after wandering through miles of piping, is turned out ready for reconsumptior by the boilers. With twelve huncred tons of coal on board, at a cruising speed of ten knots, the ship vill be able to go six thousand knots, and at a speed of thirteen knots will be able to cross the Atlantic, and then hare coal enough left to travel a thousand knots more. No speed premium is offered, but a pen- aity, at the rate of $25,000 a quarter knot, is imposcd for failure of the first half knot below the maximum; but the liberal gov- ernmental margin of safety leaves room, it ix said, for no fear on that score.