Evening Star Newspaper, September 19, 1896, Page 16

ate TOP UOM OMIM NN PART I. Here on the road between Fort Yuba and the town of San Quin, twenty steps from the west bank of Dog creek, and having hills to the north and a ten-mile plain to the south, nds Robertson's ranch. The name “ran is a misnomer. There are no horses or cattle—no farming. In other days, wh:n the stage took this route, it was a road house. It is a road house yet, but fallen into decay and having so bad a reputation chat both civil and military au- en eye on it. There are two 33—a house and a shed barn. inclosure—no shade—no sur- thorities be: adobe b There is roundings broken-down wagon and a heap of poles which have been brought from the hills fcr firewood. It is a lonely, evil-looking place, and with three or four men skulking about it would be a nervy tenderfoot who would dismeunt at the door, even at broad noonday It is 3 o'clock in the afternoon of an Au- gust day, and the sun is boiling down on Robertson's ranch in a way to burn the grass ow by the roots. Stretohed at full lengt’ on the floor of the bar room, with a saddle for a pillow, is John Robertson, a grizzied, vicious-looking man of fifty. He has been asleep for an hour. A door lead- ing into what seems to be a living room softly oper room, looks about inquiringly, and then Waiks to the front door and gazes up the trail winding over the hills. More than one man—aye! more than a hundred tra’ elers—gave a start of surprise at seeing Kit Robertson about the rane! betw the years IS72 and 1875. A girl of seve teen’ or iven, trim of figure, small hands and feet, curly chestnut hair, dark blue ¢ and a face which would have attracted a second look on 5th avenue. Her apparel was coarse, but well-fitting and was what might be called “half-Mexi- can—half-civilize Wake up, dad ; A mile or mere up the trail the girl had caught sight of a horseman headed for the ranch. “Eh, Kit, what fs it?" growls the half- awake man in reply. “Strange “Humph bed his ¢ and slowly got up and stag- gered over to the door. After a lock up the trail he said “Better vamose Without a word she turned and made her wey tc the rear room, but she did not stop there. She passed cut of the side door and ow to the shed and around to the shady e of it and sat down with her ck to the wall. By the time the stranger eman rode up old Robertson was very h awske, and met him with a smile 1 ser turned his horse loose and ar room. “Better vamose!” foot the c sorts of 1 didn't * miles. wasn't an ex-soldfer—he wasn't sheriff. Roberivon had met all en, and he knew that his caller ng out” within a radius of fift Por a minute they sized each other up, and during those sixty seconds had either man moved his right hand by so much as an inch there would have been a killing. “I came to have a talk with you,” said the stranger. “Go ahe “Anybody about?" “Only Kit, but I reckon we'll go outdoors. Come out to the shed.” The girl was on the outside of the shed— the men entered it and sat down close to- gether on an old box. Girl and men were separated by an earthen wall a foot thick, but it had crumbled and was full of holes. “Ever hear of Jim Finch?” queried the stranger, as he lighted his pipe. “Yes—horse thief, rustler agent.” “And they tell me you are a game’man?” “If there's money in it.” “Plenty of money. I want to hold up the army paymaster on his next trip, and here's the spot to do it. There's six of the boys, and we two'll make elght. There won't be over eight or nine In the escort, even If it comes to fighting.” “How'll you work it?” “Easy enough.” And with the girl Kit listening to every word from the other side of the wall the stranger proceeded to give the details of a plot which had been haiched weeks before and many miles away. Fort Yuba was the first of the five forts on the paymaster’s route. His safe would contain eight or ten thousand doliars. His usual escort was a sergeant and six men. With his clerk and the driver of the ambulance there would be nine men, all well armed and all ready to fight in defense of the money. Eight rough and ready men might ambuscade and get away with 2 dozen soldiers, but there was to be no killing if It could be avoided. In case of a fizht some of the outlaws would go down as well. They wanted the money instead of the bul and Jim Finch thought it could be got without a man be- ing grazed. When he had given the details Roberts tended his hand and said: “I'm your man—shak “Good! I knew you had sand!” Ten minutes later when the stranger was galloping away and old Robertson had en- tered the bar room, the girl queried in a careless way: “What did he want, dad?" i me to help run some cattle.” But you won't?” Things are gettin’ skeery I'm thinkin’ wo may puil"| e ina few days. The sheriff's t, and the soldiers don’t stop Drat ‘em, they wouldn't let e an honest livin’ in this coun- and road iked over to him, and resting a hand on either shoulder looked him in eyes and sa ‘Oh, dad, I hove you'll get out of this! It's a horrible place, and you don’t know how lonely I am. Why do you drag me around from one place to another Iike this? We haven't had a real home since I can re- member. “Don't get started on that tack!’ he gruffily replied, and yet there was a thread kindness in his gruffness. “But I can’t help it. Mother wont away Why don’t she come back? two years ago. The soldiers drove you away from San Jose; the sheriff drove you away from Quetin; they scared you away from Bell Rose. You are dodging about all the tim you have bad men come here. I've stuck to yeu, Gad, when I could have cut and run, as but I'm getting tired.” ‘Kit, heven't I bin a CS dad to you?” he asked after a tong look at her, “Most times, yes,” she replied, “but I'm here all alone, and I'm tired of the place, and I sometimes wonder—wonder—" “What d'ye mean, Kit? he asked, as she Passed and turned her face. pt a stack of wiry hay, aj and a girl steps into the bar | OLD ROBERTSON'S RANCH. }: BY CHARLES B. LEWIS. (Copyright, 1896, by the Bachelicr Syndicate.) ‘ OWOWOWE MONONA IW SCFCTESC ICT CIO RE \other word, He yawned, turned over on his side, rub- | THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1896—TWENTY-TWO PAGES, SUH LIRUS SOCAN ONO “Are you my real dad?” she demanded, as she looked into his eyes. “That's the third time yo question within two years replied, “and I'd like to know what's come over ye. If I ain't yer caddy what ye doin’ here? What am I takin’ keer of ye fur? Who's bin talkin’ to ye?” obody.. ‘Then drop it! e asked thet he sternly 1 don’t blame ye fur bein’ tired of the ranch and the folks and the hull blamed airth fur a hundred miles around, same as I am myself, but how kin we leave? What we got to go on? Why don’t ye wait till I make a raise?" “Then you are my real daddy?" she per- sisted. I never laid a hand on ye in my life!” he whispered, “but don’t drive me too fur! Shet up on sich talk or sun- thin’li happen! It looks like ye wanted Jim Finch t™ to disown yer parent and cut sticks, and such things rile me!” She entered the back room without an- and Old Robertson walked outdoors just as Jim Finch rode up. The two walked off to the shed and sat down ,in the same place as before and held a | | He wasn't a tender- | corversation lasting for an hour. Then Jim handed over a small boitle, laughing as he did so, and rode back over the trail he had come. The girl Kit saw him from one of the windows—saw her father with the bottle in his hand—and there was a look of mingled resolution and anxiety in her eyes as she caid to herself: “I hoped they had given it up, but they are going ahead, and now I must think of ome plan t@ beat the game and yet save daddy.” The paymaster’s ambulance and escort were not a new sight to Old Robertson on that road. When he first opened up his ranch was a stopping place for the first nig’@ out, but after his reputation began | to decay the escort jogged along to Silver Springs and made their camp in the cedars. At sunset of the second day after Jim Finch’s second call Old Robertson had a surprise. He was sitting gn the doorstep smoking kis pipe when he heard the rattle of wheels and the sound of hcofs, and next moment the paymaster’s outfit came | around the corner and halted before him. | He rose up and looked at the men In a puzzled way, and Captain Dakin descend- ed from the ambulance to say: * “See here, Robertson, we want to stop here for the night. We're behind time, and there's a sturm coming up to make a Wet night. Just drive out your gang and give us the house for the night.” “I don't know what you mean by gang,” replied the old man, with an injured look, “but I shall be glad to hev ye stop fur the night. 1 kin give the two of ye rooms, but the boys‘ll hev to put up with the | shed.” “Good enough,” said the sergeant in ckarge of the escort, and the safe was lifi- €d out of the vehicle and carried into’ a small bed room off the bar room, which the captain was to occupy. The soldiers asked for neither food nor Grink off the ranch. The creek furnished them with water, and they cooked their bacon and made their coffee at a fire in front of the shed. The paymaster and his clerk were received as guests, and a hum- ble but hearty supper spread for them. Just before it was served the cld man, who had been officiously flying around and de- claring he wanted to see everybody com- fortabie, entered the kitchen and sald to the girl: “Kit, one of the soldiers wants a bottle of whisky on the quiet. Just drop through the trap and hand {t up.” He opened the trap door in the kitchen floor, which led to & shallow excavation, and the girl dropped through without a lock at him. She wasn’t thirty seconds out of sight, but during this interval he lifted the cover of the coffee pot and poured part of the contents of a bottle into It. The remainder was poured into a quart bottle of whisky which he took from his bosom. “For the paymaster and for the blue- ccats!" he chuckled; “and in an hour from this we'll be riding away with the safe!” The girl handed up the whisky, drew her- self out of the cellar, and as the man walked out of the room she took the coffee pot off the fire and emptied {ts contents to the last drop and grain, and then put fresh coffee to steep. She had heard him at the Ws WARY “Didn’t I tell you to warn ’em?” fire snd suspected what he was up to, but she did not suspect that he had a bottle of whisky and had dosed it as well. PART IL. Up to the moment the paymaster and his clerk sat down to supper the soldiers com- posing the escort had treated Old Robertson grutily or ignored him altogether, but his Pcratstent efforts to render himself agree- able induced the sergeant to remark: “I haven't a doubt that you are as bad as the reputation they give you, but that’s peither here nor there with us. If you can bring us a drop without the captain getting on to it we'll take it that you are white.” “You shall have a bottle of my best,” was the roply, and it was the bottle he dosed in the kitchen which he carried out to tke amen under the shed a few minutes later, The escort had had hard day of it. First, a wheel had come off the ambulanco to detain thom for an hour, Then one of the mules had gone lame with a nail which had worked into hia foot. Then they had met with a tree which had fallen across tho read at @ narrow spot and they had to make @ circuit oyer bad ground to clear it, Lato an it was when reached Old Rob- ertaon’s ranch, they ht have kept on to Stlver Springs but for the big thunder storm rising in the west, Kit waited on the paymaster and Dis olork at supner. Both had heard of her, but nelther had seen her before. The captain aid his best to start a conversation with her, but the girl was brusque in her an- swers and soon discouraged him. She con- fined herself to monosyllables until just as they were ready to leave the table; then, having opened the door to the bar room and made sure that her father was not there, she tipteed back to the captain and whispered: i “Don't let the soldiers get hold’of any of dad’s whisky tonight! Why?" he asked, as he regarded her with surprise. “Because—" Her father’s step was heard in the bar room, and she passed into the cook room without completing the sentence. A min- ute later the cantain left the table and sauntered out doors. There was a wild play of lightning among the black clouds in the west, but the storm was yet miles away. Stroiling out to the shed he nodded to the sergeant, who had just finished bis supper, and as the latter came over to him, he cafd: “Sergeant, you know the reputation of this_ place.” ‘on is an old scoundrel and hates the military like poison. While he's all alone here, he wouldn’t hesitate to play us a shabby trick. No whisky, remember.” “Not a drop, sir.” “You will post a sentinel here at the shed and another in the bar room, and let the other men be ready to spring at the first alarm.” “Yes, sir. May I ask if you have scen or heard anything to arouse your sus- picion?” “Nothing of account, but we know what Robertson is. No whisky, remember. “Not if we were offered barrels, sir. At that moment the sergeant had the quart bottle in his pocket, and he not only meant to have his nip, but to pass it around. “No whisky” meant getting drunk, as he interpreted it, and seven or eight oid soldiers couldn't get dzzy- headed on a quart of whisky, which cld Robertson would be sure to dilute at least one-third. He stationed the sentinels, after giving each one a drink from the bottle, and half an hour later the storm broke, and a wild night came on. For a few minutes after lighting up the house Old Robertson hung abcut the bar room and acted nervous and uneasy, and he looked at his guests in a strange way. Then he observed that, as no other callers couli be expected and he was not feeling well, he’d go to bed. He disappeared into the living room, passed out of the rear door and had any one been looking he might have seen him by the flashes of lightning as he ran up the trail. A few minetes after his disappearance the pay- master and his clerk went to their rooms, leaving their doors open, while the senti- nel sat down on a chair and wondered that he should have been posted ther There were thirty minutes of wind, deluge and reverberating thunder, and then the storm settled down to work, as were, there being a steady downpour, with row and then a blaze of lightning. The out- side door had been shut to keep the storm out, and by and by the captain asked the sentinel if It could not be opened. No answer. He raised his voice and repeated the question, and then got ont of bed to find the soldier fast asleep in his chair. He shook him, but the man did not awake. “Whisky, eh?" whispered the paymaster as he bent over and got a sniff of the man’s breath. “If he got it some of the others did also. Queer whisky! He was perfectly sober thirty minutes azo! At that moment the door of the living room opened and the girl Kit stepped into the bar. She walked straight up to the man, noticed his condition, and turned on the captain with: “Didn't I tell you to warn ‘em? ‘And so I did,” he replied. ~ “They've all got it and it’s been drugged! Daddy fixed to drug the coffee, but I beat him at it. He's out now to meet a gang and bring ‘em in to get the safe, and you'd better see how your men are The clerk came out at that moment, and the two men started for the shed. It was “She’s gone, too, captain.” pitch dark out doors and darker still under the shed, but after groping around for awhile they found a sleeping man. A vigorous shake failed to arouse him, and they groped and discovered a second, ‘third and fourth. Every man had partaken of the drugged whisky, and every man had been drugged to tinsensibility. The cap- tain was cursing and the clerk groping for other bodies when they were joined by Kit, “Don't delay here!” she exclaimed. ““Dad- dy meant to do for ‘em and has done it. The gang may come now at uny minute and they won't let your two lives stand in the way of that safe. Bring in all the carbines and cartridges you can lay “hands on!" They felt about and got hold of four carbines and four or five belts full of car- tridges, and with one of the weapons in her hand, the girl led them back to the house. Her first move was to bar the rear door and sesure the heavy blinds. Then the front was made fast, and she brought another light into the barroom and said: “You see the loopholes cut by the doors and windows? There's others in the back room. Daddy shouldn't have gone into this, but I hope he won't get hurt. I hate to go back on daddy, but I'm tired of this life. Get ready for a hot fight, for laddy must have a desperate gang behind him.’ During the next hour the rain came down steadily and monotonously, and no other sounds were heard. The three on watch inside blew out one of the can- dies and snaded the other and conversed in whispers. By and by the rain ceased, and hardly had 1t done so when a xentle tapping was heard at the back door. The trio tip-toed into the room, and with her mouth to one of the locpholes, Kit called out is that you, daddy?” ‘Yes, open the door,” he replied. ‘What have you done with the soldiers?” ‘Tied ‘em up. Open the door.” ‘Who's out there with you?” ‘No matter—open up.” “T can’t do it, daddy. You fixed to drug the captain and his clerk, but I made new coffee. They are both all right and have got carbines, and mean to make a fight for it. I don’t want to fight you, daddy, but I must help ‘em out. Please give it up and go away.” Jim Finch’s gang had arrived. It was their work which had delayed the escort— their plan to oblige the paymaster to stop at the ranch—their expectation of making an easy capture. The soldiers had been drugged and were helpless, but the house was secured against them and there were three people inside to handle weapons. There was a moment of silence after Kit’s appeal, and then it was Jim Finch who shouted through the door: “Inside, thar’! We hev no time to fool away, and we ar’ bound to hev that safe. ‘Will you open the door to us?” “Never!"? replied the paymaster. “Then we'll open it fur ourselves, and you kin take the consequences! The captain took one door—his clerk and the girl the other, and they had not long to walt. Both doors were attacked simul- taneously with battering rams, while ot! ers of the gang outside opened fire on the windows. Bang! bang! bang! went tho three carbines, fired into the darkness at ® venture, and the logs were dropped and the assailants took cover, leaving two wounded to crawl after them and one who would never move hand nor foot egain, Five minutes later four or five rifles cpened fire on the doors, which wore not bullet- proof, though almost stopping the bullets, and Kit left her place to say to the captain: “There's a weak apot in the wall over there, and daddy knows it. Some of them will digging through while the ‘cthers ere shooting.” ‘The candle, which had been shaded, was now extinguished, and the captain and Kit moyed to Cease she had indicated, Knives were a! at work, and when the dirt wen heard falling inside the girl whis- Bered to the captala: “Now use your revolver, and give ‘em every bullet in-tt!” zy She fired twa@ shoie from her carbine while the captain emptied his revolver, and the yells;and groans from the men outside showedr thaf,some of the bullets had taken effect. Leaving the captain to guard the spot, the girl took her sta- tion at the badk door, and for the next quarter of an hour there was lively firing from without and within. Tien the gang had enough of it and drew off, but it was long past: midnight before the be- sieged felt sure, that: the enemy had re- tired. Not a werd had been heard from Kit for half 2 hor when the captain struck a light and expressed his belief that it was now safe to go out and see how it fared with the men. :The flame showed her lying on the floor with a bullet in her side. She had been hit with one of the last shots fired, and though not rendered un- conscious, she shad not uttered a word. “I'm done for!” she said, as the pay- master and his clerk bent over her. “Go out and see if you can find daddy. I thought I heard him groaning awhile ago.” The horses of the escort and the ambu- lance mules had been driven off, but no harm had come to the soldiers, who still slept under the inftuence of the opiate. There were four dead outlaws on the ground, and Jim Fitch was one of them. There were two wounded, and old Robert- son was hardest-hit. They lifted him up and carried him into the house and laid him down beside Kit. He was unconscious, but her words brought him back to life. “That you, daddy? she asked. “Yes, Kit."* “Hurt bad, daddy?” ‘Got my dose.” “I’m done for, too. Say, daddy, take hold of my hand. Now, then, as we lay here dyirg, tell me if you are my real daddy?” “No, Kit, I'm not." “Then who am I “I stcle you when you was a little—lit- tle—" “Go on, daddy.” But he never spoke again. She waited a minute to hear his answer, and then looked up at the captain with a smile. He back- ed away and leaned against the bar and was looking out of the open door into the darkness, when his clerk whispered: ‘She's gone, too, captain! Perhaps he'll answer over there!” (The End.) +o% Hounes Built Into a Bank. From the New York Times. Brooklyn has a number of genuine roof gardens-—literally gardens on roofs. An un- unsual thing about these gardens is that they are not used by the persons upon whose roofs they rest, and in the middle of the summer, when their beauty and cool- ness can be best appreciated, they are de- serted and waste their cultivated sweetness upon the city air. ‘The gardeng of the large and beautiful houses of Columbia Heights, Pterrepont Place end Montague. terrace, which make such a bright spot in the dark line of Brooklyn buildings as they are seen from the Eest river, rest at the extreme ends up- on houses built into the steep wall that rises from the storehouses below. Though more pretentious, these houses are built into a bank, after the fashion of the west- ern dug-out. They ara like these structures in being warm in winter, but they are also t in summer, and it ts difficult to under- stand how human beings can live in them Many ef these partially underground build- Ings ere now used for manufacturing pur- poses. The houses used for dwellings shel- ter the poorest class of people, a saloon for every other house, making them happier or more talserable, according to the point of view from which the subject ia considered. Among the older Brooklynites are those who remember a terrible catastrophe which occurred at a fire in these underground dwellings. A crowd of people were stand- ing In the street above, which is partially supported by well-buttressed walls of gran- ite, when the earth gave way and several men were precipitated into the fiery fur- nace below. ——___+e+____ A Modern Alchemist. From Sctence. A distinguished metallurgist claims that he has realized the dreams of the ancients end has discovered the secret of transmut- ing silver into gold. The old alchemists be- Neved that some substance might be found by the mere touch of which the base metals cculd be changed into stlver and gold. Mc ern chemistry shows that the ultimate par- ticles constituting gold, silver, tron, lead, zinc and all other metals are identical in substance, and that the different properties of the several metals ‘lepend entirely upon the different ways in which the particles of the common substance are arranged. Iz is this secret of rearrangement which Dr. Em- mens, the high explosive expert, now says he has fathomed. He claims tat the metal made by him from silver answers every test to which the United States governinent assay office subjects the zold offered there for sale, and that the metal could be proved to be gold in a court of law. It has every quality required by the gold of commerce, teing of the same color, weight and strength. It is green by transmitted light and yellow by reflected light, properties which are possessed by gold alone. Its re- sistance to the action of either nitric or bydrgchloric acid aione, and its solution Ly a mixture of these acids are also distin- guishing properties of pure gold, and of no other yellow metal. Dr. Emmens says, he has alreatty wiade four ounces of gold from about six Gunces of silver, and that the Ics in the process is about 25 per cent. Should Dr. Emmens’ claims be substantiated an un- expected and strikirg solution of the silver question will have been reacned. eee cee Way to Receive Burglars, W. J. Lilly in Little's Living Age. ‘I think about the most curious man’ I ever met,” said the retired burglar, “I met in a house in eastern Connecticut, and I shouldn’t know him, either, if I should meet him again, unless I should hear him speak. It was so dark where I met him that I never saw him at all. I had looked around the house down stairs and actually hadn’t seen a thing worth carrying off, and {t wasn’t a bad-looking house on the outside, either. I got upstairs and. groped about a little, and finally turned into a room that was darker than Egypt. I hadn’t gone more than three steps into this room when I heard a man say: ‘Hello er" ‘Hello,’ says I. ‘Who are you glar?’ “And I said yes, I did do something in that line occasionally. ‘Miserable business to be in, ain’t it?” said the man. His voice came from a bed over in the corner of the room, ant I knew he hadn't even sat up. “And I said: ‘Well, I dunno; I’ve got to support my family some way. “Well, you just wasted a night here,’ said the man. ‘Didn’t you see anything down stairs worth stealing?” “And I sald no, I hadn't. “Well, there's less upstairs,’ says the man, and then I heard him turn over and settle down to go to sleep again. I'd like to have gone over there and kicked him, but I didn’t. It was getting late, and I thought, all things considered, that I might just as well let him have his sleep out.” r sald the man; ‘bur- —_—--cee. Electrical Soap. From the Philadelphia Recotd. A battery has been’ patented consisting of a source of electrical energy placed in- aldo a cake of tollet soap. The device is in- tended for curative applications of elec- tricity to the human body. To use the lan- guage of the inyentor, “the invention is based on the fact: that ‘the chemical decom- position of soap ts. suc ‘that when dissolved in water it produces aliquid having an ex- citing effect upon ceftain metallic elec- trodes placed in proxinitty to form an elec- tric battery. The‘arramgement of the elec- trodes is such that they may be reached by the solution formed in'the use of the same, and provided with! terminals on the exterior of the soap through which the electric cur- rent is transmitted to the person of the user. The elements of a simple galvanic battery are used and the effect of the cur- rent is intensified by the addition of an induction coil.” ———__-+-e+__. It Was the Way It Was Put. From the Indianapolis Journal. “I presume you gave the prisoner some occasion to strike you?” “Why, your honor, we were talking about the coinage, and he made some statoment that called me to remark that he had been misled and was arguing from the wrong Premineg, and then he struck me.” “Is that what he ssid to you, prisoner?” “Yes, that was the substance of it, your honor, but not the language, What he said was that I didn’t know enough to pound sand in a rat holo, and was talking through hat like a jackass full of this- tlea and bull-nettles.”” {SCHOOL DISCIPLINE Corporal Punishment Rarely Resorted to in This Country. ENGLISH MASTERS STILL USE THE ROD Unruly Children in Other Countries, and How They Are Managed. COLD WATER TREATMENT — Se UPILS BEGIN- Pz school this month will better ap- Preciate their teach- ers and the educa- th laws of this untry when they learn of the punish- ments applied to misbehaving and in- attentive children in the schools of for- eign lands. Corporal punishment in our city and country schools is practically at an end, except, perhaps, in a few districts of states where laws have never been passed forbidding such procedure. Commissioner of Educa- tion Harris, Uncle Sam's chief adviser on school matters, says that a great change has lately been wrought in our methods of school discipline. “It is clear that with frequent and severe corpcral punishment,” says he, “it is next to Impossible to retain genuine respect for law. Only the very rare teacher can succeed in this. Punish- ment through the sense of honor has there- fore superseded, for the most part, in our best schools the use of the rod.” Reports of authentic authorities who have Inspected the disciplinary methods in Eng- land and cther foreign countries state that the English schoolmaster of today uses the rod almost as unsparingly as he did a cen- tury ago. Recently a futile attempt was made to pass a bill through the British parliament forbidding the infliction of physical pain by teachers, except with the birch rod, upon children below — sixteen years of age. This unsuccessful bill also provided that no master or employer should strike an apprentice or servant. How They Do It in England. The English school inquiry commission recently investigated the different means of punishment in vogue in different shires. In some ro assistant teacher is permitted to flog a child, the distinction being re- served always for the head master. In other places, besides flogging, the penalty for lying, swearing, insolence and moral offense, fines and stoppages of pocket mon- ey are imposed. “Sending to bed" is the favorite punishment in most of the English girls’ schools. The rod in present use in Winchester School, one of England's most important public schools, is composed of four apple tree twigs set in a wooden handle. It is kept in repair by two members of the Junior class, who are appointed “rod mak- ers” by the prefect. While thrashing a boy the wielder of this rod wears a cap of the mcrtar-board design. This custom has been in vogue in Winchester School since before the discovery of America. At Eton School, another of England's foremost pub- Ne educational institutions for boys, the flogging paraphernalia consists of a block made to represent two steps and a long bushy switch of birch. The victim kneels upon the block, after appropriately arrang- ing his garments. Not only young boys are thus handled in these, the highest, pub- lic schools in Great Britain, but youths as old as many of our haughty collegtans in their freshman or even their sophomore years. Not long ago a boy of eighteen, who, at his father’s orders, refused to be flogged, was expelled. Besides the birch and apple-twig switches, other instruments of torture applied to bad school boys in England are the rule and spatula. The latter, commonly called the “Jonathan,” ts a large circular disk of wood, having five or more holes bored about the center and mounted upon a han- dle. Needless to say, the holes raise pain- ful blisters upon the area of application. In many English schools for boys a pun- ishment known as “horsing” was in vogue not many years ago. One miscreant was made to sit upon the back of another, astride, both being flogged at the same time. They Whipped the Girls. In schools for girls and young ladies in England, even within the memory of our grandperents, the rod was unsparingly used. The whipping outfit for the fair sex included the rattan, the birch, the whip of whalebone and the punishment blouse. The latter was a short garment made with- out sleeves and very low in the neck, front and back. For some offenses young ladies were made to disrobe themselves in the school room and to don this costume pre- vious to being whipped in the presence of their schoolmates. In later days English girls were whipped mostly upon their bare arms and shoulders, although reports show that this was not always the case. In Scotland schoolmasters of today em- phasize their rules with an instrument known as the “tams. It is in universal use in all boys’ schools in that section of the British empire. The “‘tams” is a short leather strap cut into a fringe at the end. Records of some of the more ancient Scotch school customs show that the dried skins of eels made into switches were used for the same purpose. Official Floggers. Corporal punishment is also permitted in the German schools. Every German knows the meaning of the phrase “naught comma five,” the formula for which is writ- ten “0,5.” In Germany this stands for one- half of a meter. The meter is the stand- ard measure of Germany, and in that coun- try the comma is used instead of the pe- riod to indicate the decimal. The “0,5,” therefore, is a % or .5-meter stick. It is the scepter of nearly every boys’ school teacher in the fatherland. Not many years ago in Germany there used to be officials in some cities delegated to visit the schools, their only duty being to flog bad boys. They wore masks and long blue cloaks, whence the name of each, “the blue man. They whaled bad boys in the passages before the school rooms, while the teachers stood by to superintend the operation. None of the German boys in those times knew who thelr punishers were, and reference to the “blue man” made them tremble in their little boois. Among the punishments directed against pride in Germany is the ‘asses’ bench,” corresponding to seme extent to the stool upon which our fathers and their fathers were made to stand when they wore the “fool's cap.” A Bavarian schoolmaster named Hauterle, who taught for over fifty- one years, kept record that he had during this service inflicted 911,527 strokes of the cane, 124,000 whacks with the rod, 20,989 blows with the ruler, 10,235 boxes on the ear and 7,905 tugs at the same, with a sum total: of 1,115,800 blows on the head with the knuckles. He threatered the rod to 1,707 children who did not receive it, and made 777 kneel upon round hard peas and 631 upon a sharp- edged piece of wood, and 5,001 were made to ride the wooden horse. The last was a beam of timber set with sharp points, upon which the culprit was made to sit astride, sometimes with welghts attached to his feet. In Cases of Anger. Bad children in the schools of Turkey, Persia and China suffer a very painful mode of punishment known as the bastina- do. The soles of the feet are severely struck with a lath, paddle cr stick of bam- boo, sometimes until the blood issues from beneath the nails. This mode is particular- ly in vogue in Mohammedan schools, where children are taught to read the Koran. Prof. Lyman Cobb, a veteran New York schoolmaster, who a half century ago was the author of a number of school books, teachers’ manuals and the like, expressed his opinion that “when a child becomes very angry and perhaps throws himself upon the floor a sudden dash of cold water tn the face or on the back of the head and neck will have en excellent effect. Some- times,” he continued, “boys become angry at each other. The parent or teacher can cause them to drink a considerable quanti- Highest of all in Leavening Power.— Latest U.S. Gov't Report Real ABSOLUTELY PURE Baking Powder ty of cold water, or he can turn some cn their heads or on the back of their necks. Schoo! boys sometimes fight and quarrel. A pailful of water thrown over them will quite cool their anger and youthful ardor. In the winter let them when in anger be required to eat a snowball and it will have a capital effect in allaying an excited temper.” In another paragraph of advice this orig- inal disciplinarian prescribes that angry boys should also, in winter, be required to stand close to the fire until breaking into a profuse perspiratio poem A REPORTER’S INTUITION. He Spotted the Man He Was After and Soon Got Him Down to Business. From the St. Louls Republic, An ex-reporter, who served long and faithfully as a gleaner of festive items for a St. Louls newspaper, tells this story of recognition of a man he had never seen be- fore: “I was sent out to the West End to see a men who had been implicated in a very malodorous scandal. putting it very mildly. household and all the rest of it were away, nobody knew where. The neighbors thought they had gone out of town. “I got on a car and was headed down town, when I was impelled by some queer influence I can’t describe to look at a man He was an ordinary- looking man, and I would not have looked at him a second time under other circum- But something told me that this who sat behind me. stances. was the man I was looking for. How did I know it? Blessed if I can tell you. No one had ever described him to me. I knew him ‘cause,’ I suppose, as the women say. “Ll esked him for a Nght, and when the man who sat beside him got out I took ihe seat beside him. ‘I am looking for Mr. » 1 said. ‘Do you know him? hesitated a moment. must see him. me where I would be likely I remarked, looking at my watch. 10 o'clock. He hedged a Mttle more, sal I am the man you are looking for.’ busine: Explain it? I can't.’ es “STONE OF SCONE.” The Enterprisin, Slept the Coronation C From St. Nicholas. It is a long walk from the dining room of the Westminster School to the coronation which stands behind the old stone chatr, sereen, just back of the altar in the abbe; but there is an interesting connection b tween the two. This chair, known, is a rude, heavy, oak chair, much worn by time. Scone, ward I, ereign crowned. A stout rail strains the cr ince then has sat in it to be do, they would find cut boldly into the solid oak seat, in such sprawling letters as the schoolboy’s knife makcs upon his desk, “P. Abbott slept in this chair Jan. 4th, 1801.” P. Abbott, it seems, dare stay in the abbey all night, alone. In order to win his wager he hid in some corner of the old building until the doors were locked for the night, and thus was left alone there. Fearing, however, that when morning came, the boy with whom | he had made the bet would disbelieve ‘hi statement that he had won it, he deter- mined to have some proof of the fact, and | so spent the hours of the early morning in car after, bears witness for him. It is disap- pointing that the tradition does not record just what form and amount of punishment was visited upon the lad for his escapade, and tnat history does not tell us of his later urage and grit which this deed manifested foretold an energetic, successful life, or was dissi- years. I wonder whether the pated in mere bravado. ——__++_____ The Origin of Queer Phrases. Fiom the Philadelphia Times. “Oh, dear me!” Is equivalent to “O, Dio mio,” or “Oh, my God!” Rotten Row, the famous drive in London, was originally called la route du rot, or the King’s passageway. “Pope” was originally “papa” and “czar” and “kaiser” are both Caesar. “Taimble” was originally umd bell,” as the thimble was first worn on the thumb. andelion” was dent de leon, or the lon's tooth. Vinegar is taken from the algre, or sour wine. Domine, the old name used for a preach- er, is derived from Dominus. Lord in the old Anglo-Saxon was Naford, or loaf distributor. Sir was originally the Latin senior. Madame is “my lad: Slav was originally a person of noble lineage, not the slave as now applied. Frerch vin From the Cleveland Plain-Dealer. His name was George Arnold, and he was arraigned in police court on the charge of stealing a ride on a train. “Where were you?” asked Judge Fielder, referring to his former place of abode. “In the Indian territory,” was the reply. “I was waiting.” “Waiting for whom?” “Just waiting.” “What were you waiting for?” “To get my money.” “Who from?” “How did you start in waiting?” “By beginning to wait.” “I don’t know what you mean; explain yourself.”” “I thought you knew I was waiting in a restaurant.” “Oh!” gasped Judge Fielder. The story hung upon my seeing him, and to say that I was anx- fous to get my eagle eye on him would be I rode out to his house only to find that the head of the He “Yes, slightly,’ he an- Tan you j to find him? I asked. ‘Probably at his office,’ he id. ‘Hardly at this hour, I should say,’ It was but firally his curtosity overcame him, and he I knew it,’ I said, and we got down to S$, and I got the statement I wanted. Schoolboy Who as is well | It contains the “Stone of and was made by the order of Ed- | in 1297, and every English sov- in front of the chair re- yd of visitors from coming near, but if they were allowed to examine it as closely as I was fortunate enough to was a Westminster School boy, and a tradition, which there is every reason to believe is true, tells that he made a wager with a schoolmate that he ing on the coronation chair the sen- tence which, even now, nearly a century ————— —-, THE CLIFF DWELLERS, Their Country Includes an Immense Aren and the Wildest Scenes. From Harper's Magazine. Inhabitants? Indians, coyotes, rattle- snakes, rabbits, prairie dogs and Mormons in the heart of it; while along its borders and in the valleys where water is or can be brought are ranchmen, with stout hearts—as need there is to wring a livell- hood from this desolate frontier. Villages there are in favored places, and a few towns, with faces set firmly toward the twentieth century as to the utilitt while the amenities are but fitfully in evidence. The Indians who inhabit this region aro of two types. In the upper middle portions are the Utes and Navajos, the relics of no- madic tribes, but wandering legally no longer, save within the confines of their reservations. More scattered are the Pueb- los or Village Indians, living much as they did when the Spaniards found them cen- turies ago, in their great communal storied houses of'stone or adobe. Of these Pueblo Indians, the Moquis, far away from “any- where,” in the heart of the land of which 1 write, are the most primitive in dress, habits and tradition: while the Zunis, Aco- mas, Lagunans and Isletans, to the south and east, and a dozen or so fading rem- nants of once powerful groups strung along the upper reaches of the Rio Grande, are variously and frequently viciously tinged with ways and follies of the white man All over this great stretch of country, so hot in its untempered summer sunshine that you w you had not come, so be- witching in its skies and clouds and at- mosphere and hills that not for worlds would you have stayed awa are the rulned homes of the forgotten people. You will tind them at the doors of Navajo wick- iups deep in the wilderness, where old wo- men sit weavin blankets in the sun. will find taem huncreds of m from ie white man’s dwellings or th man’s haunts. Sometimes on high plateaus Sometimes in broad valleys, sometimes hung along the crags of well-nigh Inacees. sible canyons, or perched, it may be. in dizzy security atop some gigantic rock which rises sheer and solitary above tho plain, over which it has kept s¢ <§ gece pet pt so long ur A Darky» From the New York Press A southern negro illustrates his idea of the free silver party and its nominees by this comparison: “You knows, marster, dat befo" de war no nigger wid eny se’f respec’ or ‘ristocratic notions ever eat er watermillion out’n his own marster’s patch ef he could steal one f'um de nigh na- bors. En ev'ry time two grown niggers went cut in de night fur watermillions dey allus tuk along ole marster's con, so ef |dey got cotched de w'ite boy got ¢ | Scrape, too, en ole marster had to help ‘em all out. But de boy wus allus en de way. | He talk too much en too ioud, en he ha. de to be called haf de time. De aogs didn’t know de w’ltes liken dey did de nig- | ers, en useter bark at ‘em. De boy wux | too iittle to ca’y a whole watermillion, fur de watermillion am a mighty unconvenient fruit ter handle, en it’s unconvenient fruit to eat, too. It’s too big fur one smail Loy jen tain’t nuff fur two big niggers an’ a En dat’s whut Ise thinkin’ "bout dis yer free silver panty. It’s too big fur one | little w'ite boy, lke Misser Bryan, to | manage, en tain’t big ernuff fur two old | darkies, like Misser Sewall en Misser Wat- de boy, too.” —_- A Modern Version. ten for The Evening Star. CVith permission of the melancholy Jaques.) “All the world’s awheel, And all the men and women merly wheclers, have thelr exits pnd their ent 8, | And each one in his time plays many parts, The acts being se 2 At first th | Bawling and shrinking in the And then the smufling learner, with bis tool hag, shin brand-new wheel, wobbling sround | Towards a heavy Aul then the T, | Sizing like a fart | With wistful i Turned to his ailstress ringlets. Full of strange oaths, and swe With eyes severe ard gown of m acrtd. ys her part: The sixth age slips Around back streets end alleys in the town, His cycle heve well stuffed, to well plump out bis shrenken shanks, And kis big, manly vice, turned to childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sou That ends this strange, eventful bist Is a head full of wheels, and mere ob ‘Sans eyes, sans teeth, sans teste, sans everything.” J. H. OKA. —>—_—_ Deadly Humidity. From the Cleveland Plain-Dealer. Weary Waddler—“Say, Mosey, we've got to git out of this here climate at once.” Mosey Mogalong—“What'’s th’ matter with it?” Weary Waddler—“It's this bloomin’ at- mosphere. They calis it humid. That means it’s full o’ moisture.” ° Mosey—Well, wot of it?” Weary—“Why, great Caesar, man, we're = in’ baths every hour an’ not knowin’ It. Last scene of all, The End of Knowledge. Bacon, The greatest error of all the rest is the mistaking or misplacing of the last or far- thest end of knowledge; for men have en- tered into a desire of learning and knowl- edge, sometimes upon natural curiosity and inquisitive appetite; sometimes to entertain their minds with varlety and deligh times for ornament and reputation; somefimes to enable them to victory of wit and contradiction; and most times for lucre and profession; and seldom — since: to give a true account of their gift of reason, to the benefit and use of men. As if there were sought in knowledge a couch, when upon to rest a searching and restless spiri or a terrace, for a wandering and variable mind to walk up and down with a fair prospect; or a tower of state, for a proud mind to raise itself upon; or a fort or commanding ground, for strife and con- tention; or a shop, for protit or sale; and not a rich storehouse, for the glory of the Creator and the rellef of man’s estate GOT THE BEST OF IT, From Leslie's Weekly. Man Behind—“I may not be able to see de view, but I doan’ mine a little ting laik dat.”