Evening Star Newspaper, January 2, 1897, Page 23

Sartwel! who m feoled work ana: i ever i tics him perhaps a THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 9, 1897-24 PAGES. © 23 END Godse eh sey (Copyright, from last Saturday's Star.) 1. on being a man He was able to to effect with and this impatient with Chapter X ertainty, ould not be ere would not It would filled that just woman with ardonable, grat fon had wide of the mark her hus » of the result on ad as his ov to bear 2 how n his estima © of the news he of M sten il imagine? their fury 2 on ar t Gibbon would Il persisted turn Gibbons m, how the union had been be- into supporting for weeks the bogus | the whom the manager had flung iuious lap. After wreaking their yosing him. asoned th om Gibbons and di return to the works, r DNC NOWONOWONOMONN selsehse THE MUTABLE MANY, IN BY ROBERT BARR. 1896, by Robert Barr.) | I ited with sim-! | | ‘ot | not OWN to be hit when he is down. We stripped for a square and fair fight with Manayer Sart- well, and we have fought as men should. We have broken no rae we ears raised no disturbance. The police, always eager enough to arrest a striker, have laid hands on none of us. It has been a square, stand- ight merit | UP, honorable fight. It has been a fair Aight on our side, and I am proud to have been connected with it. But in this struggle I have made one mistake. I made the mis- take of thinking we were fighting an honor- able opponent—with 3 man who would not break the rules of the ring. I was not on the outlook for foul play—for trickery. Knowing what I do tonight, I say—and I | am ready to take the consequences of my words—that Sartwell is a thief, and a cow- committed | @rdly thief, in the estimation of any honest man. He knew that the life of our fight was our money. He knew that starvation the helpless wives and families of our n was his most powerful ally. He did iare to break in and steal our money, use he was afraid of the law, but he bel "| took a meaner and more cowardly way of | accomplishing the robbery. He appealed to cupidity of men out’ of work—poor devils! I don’t blame them; they were doubtless starving—and he told them ‘hat f they masqueraded as employes of his, the union would take them in and pay them wages, as long as there was no sus- ‘aiete mminie's wala aaa: interest | picion aroused—that is, if these men kept had all but died cut, fresher their mouths shut they could draw strike mpre: papers, sub ed it into a two-line iptions had prac- was there left th i, what, | | pay. Much as I have always despised Sart- well, I did not think he would stoop to a trick like this. A man who robs a bank has some courage, but a man who tempts we fight looked. tions; r wha “A HANSOW f star : powerful | pov you want of bad news to uu do not can't gr t le harm. for the se ond to the advisability men fully into their confi- hought it best to break the dualt thers that the Gibbons, in reality no told the whole ttee tried any half ould undoubtedly rise what Sartweil had th and nothing olved upon. ced his audience that hall, he saw that he nody of men whose from that of -heartedly voted with There was r in the air he hall, and as Gib- front of the platform sphere of the place he had to proceed hold on the men a good speaker, > men were just ch H he began, “is the natural £ the modern conditions of A workingman of today may be gle 5 in a large organ. note. He spends something. He does commerc zo as did the work- merely takes it 1 who has put a n touch on {t and > and thus the arti- + from hand to hand until It sher. The workman of to- A small cog on a very la ves not com The workmar of n more independent. completed it. If le the whole bar- eading it. If one of to a single pipe in an of yesterday might flute on which a whole yed. He—" it a disgusted man t want no philosophy; bay, or master’s pay.” 1g through the hail; the vidently voicing the sen- «. Gibbons stood for ng at them. » eried, his voice ke a trumpet huck it. This fs not the time as our friend said; it is When a man strips to es he expect?" «ood thrashing, me was the un- -for r fe for an orator to depend for answers to his ques- but the laugh that went up showed ons that the crowd was getting into humor which was what he most “When an Englishmaa takes off his coat to fight, he asks no favor from his oppo- nent; Englis! whether den't. low strang! the belt; but he does expect fair play, and if fhmen are the onlookers he iets it, they like him or whether they He doesn’t expect to be struck be- he doesn’t expect to be led on the ropes; he doesn’t expect MOVED INCH BY | | | | | as if a dam had given way. INCH NEARER THE GAT! ken wretches to commit the crime, he stands safely aside and reaps the benefit—there is no decent word in the language to characterize him. Now, I you know what has been done, ard sult is that our treasury is empty, as sartwell had broken into it with a jim- The manager is waiting expectantly e reward of his burglary He will he gates of the works open tomor- w for you to enter and complete his tri- m3 for throw . umpn. The question before the meeting tcnight is—Are you going in’ A universal shout of “Never! We'll starve first:”” rose to the rafters of the building. When he first confronted the meeting that night sons feared he could not ro 10m iheir evident coldness to as the speech went on, increasing rmurs among the men and at length age outbursts of rage showed him that i them in the hollow of his hand; at 1, a word irom him, and all the po- in that part of London could not have saved the works from wreck and flames. ‘To the works! was the cry, and there Was a general movement in response to it “No, = shouted Gibbons, his sten- torian voice dominating the uproar. “Not to the works. Every man home tonight, but be on the ground in the morning. We ay must not play into the enemy's hands by any attempt at violence. Tomorrow we will in t Monk‘on and Hope and demand our rights from them in person. Let them refuse ir peril. We'll have no more Gealings with Sartwell.” There was a cheer at“this, and the mee ing dis»anded quietly. xi morning the men were out in force at the still close? gates, and there w argry threats against the manager. . It all rieht enough, they said, for Gibbons to counsel moderation, but the time for mod- eration was There was an increa bedy of police, who kept the crowd moving as much as possible, having for the first time during the strike a most difficult task to perform. The strikers were in ugly temper, and did not obey orders or take pushes with the equanimity they had for- merly displayed; but the police showed great forbearance, and evidently had in- structions not to use their truncheons ¢ cept as a last resort. Sartwell, knowing a crisis was at hand, had slept in his office, and the ever-increas- ing mob hooted when he did not appear at Bis usual time. Gibbons, by word and action, moving ebout everywhere, tried to keep his men in and and prevent a corflict. They cheered but paid little attention to what he Shortly after 10 o'clock a hansom drove to the outskirts of the mob, and was received with a chorus of groans. Gibbons quickly stepped to the front of it and addressed the occupant. “Mr. Hope——” he began. “Stand back there!” cried the officer in charge. Mr. Hope,” cried Gibbons, words with you.” » eitile Mr. Hope hrank into a corner of © hansom, speechless, his face as a sheet of paper. Soret ‘Stand bl i. the breast. “Let him answer. minute with your m m: * you rich ‘Stand back!" reiterated thi Ce - ing him a step further. eee ee The hansom moved inch by inch ne: the gau The crowd seethed like aarae easy sea, but every man held his breath, isten to me, Mr, Hope. Your men are The oe They ask orly—" © officer pushed the speaker back one: more. Gibbons" heel caught on 2 sence stone and he went down backward. The crowd broke like a wave, submerging the police for a moment, flooding the street The cabb: his lofty seat, trying to control his fright. ered horse, looked like @ castaway perched on a buoy in an angry ccean. He made the téttical mistake of lashing around him with his whip. In an instant the hansem Was ove: and down, with a crash of splim tering glass. The police, edging together, struck richt and left with a fury that quite matched the less disciplined rage of the mob. The officers fought their way until there was a ring around the prostrate cab. Two of them picked up Mr. Hope, who was helpless with fear and horror, and these two. with the little man between them, surrounded by a squad that stocd shoulder to shoulder, simply clove their way through the dense mass to the gates, where the smal! door in the large gate was quickly opened and shut, with Mr. Hope and one supporting policeman inside. Gibbons, his hat gone, his coat in rags and his face smeared with blood, a wild, unkempt figure, rose above the struggling ae and stood on the top of the fallen cal “For Ged's sake, he screamed, “aon* s pack!” Fall back! Fall He might as well have shouted to the winds. The police laid about them like demons, and the crowd was rapidly fall- ing back, not because Gibbons ordered them to. In an incredibly short space of time the police in a body marched down the street, and there was none to oppose them. he remnants of what a few min- utes before seemed an irresistible force lay on the pavement and groaned, or leaned against the walls the more seriously wound- ed to be taken to the hospitals, to the police station. seeder no “I want ten The officer pushed with some force in ‘Will you speak for one en—the men who have men, resist the police! In spite of their defeat mm the morning the men ones more about the works in afternoon, and the threaten- Ing crowd was even greater than before, because the papers had over - London accounts the riot, as Genie it, and the news had attracted idlers from all parts of the me- tropolis. The wildest rumors were afloat; the men were going to wreck the works; they were going to loot the bread shops in Light street; they had armed them- selves and were about to march on Tra- falgar square. With a resolute and des- perate leader, there is no saying what they might have attempted, but- Gibbons, who had put another coat on his back, and much sticking plaster on his face, moved about counseling moderation and respect foy the law. They would forfeit public sympathy, he said, by resorting to violence, although some of his hearers growled that “‘a bleedin’ lot 0’ good” pub- lic sympathy had done for them. “What we want, and what we mean to have,” said Gibbons, “is a word with the owners. They are bound to come out soon.” They did come out ultimately together, and two more frightened men than Monk- ton and Hope it would have been hard to find in all the land that day. They were sur- rounded by a dozen policemen, whose reso- lute demeanor showed they were not to be trifled with. The gates immediately closed behind this formidable procession, and it quickly made its way up the street, the crowd jeering and groaning as it passed through. “We've got nothing-against them,” shout- ed one. “Bring out Sartwell, and we'll show you wot for.” Hatred for the managers rather than the owners was plainly the dominant senti- ment of the gathering. They cheered: the remark, and gave three groans for the un- popular manager. : When the protected men disappeared, the vigtlance of the force relaxed, and the crowd surged into the gap the police had cleared. With the masters safe and out of reagh, the critical moment of the day seemed to have passed. The police could not be expected to know that the real resentment of the mob was not directed against the man whose cab had been over- turned that morning. “I hope Sartwell won't venture out to- night,” said Marsten to Braunt. “It will take more than twelve policemen to guard him if he does.” “He has some sense,” replied Braunt, “and will stay where he is.” Neither Braunt nor Marsten had been present during the morning’s battle, but they, I'ke many others with nothing to do, had come in the afternoon. As Braunt spoke the small door in the gate opened, and Sartwell, entirely alone, stepped out. He had no more formidable weapon in his hand than his customary slim and trim umbrella. His silk hat was as glossy and his clothes were as spick and span as if he were a tailor’s model. He seemed to have aged a trifle since the strike began, but his wiry, well-knit body Was as erect as ever, and in his eye was that stern look of command before which, @t one time or another, every man in his employ had quailed. An instantaneous hush fell upon ithe crowd. The cry of a hawker in a distant sireet was heard. Every man knew that the flirging of a missile, or the upraising of an arm even, would be as a spark in a powder mill. Let but the stroke fall, and all the police in London could not have saved the life of the man walking across the cleared space from the gates toward the crowd. The mass of silent humanity had but to move forward, and Sartwell’s life would be crushed out on the paving stones. Sartweil, without pause and without hur- ry, waiked across the intervening space with evident confidence that the men would make way for him. There was no sign of fear in his manner, nor on the other hand Was there any trace of swaggering au- thority about him, but there was in the glance of his steely eye and the poise of his head that indefirable something which stamps a man master—which commands obedience, instant and unquestioned. The crowd parted before him, and he cast no look over his shoulder. Habit bi ing strong, one or two raised hand to fore- lock as he passed, getting in return the same curt nod that had always acknowl- eaged such salutation. The human ocean parted before him as did the Red sea be- for> the Hebrew leader, and the manager passed through as unscathed. “God!” cried Bri , towering above his fellows and shaking his fist at the unof- fen g sky, “I have seen in my life one brave man.” Chapter XIV. ‘ome with me, Marsten,” said Braunt. “Let us get out of this crowd. I want a word with you!” The two made their way to a quicier street and walked together toward Rose Garden court, talking as they went. “This foolish strike must stop,” began the Yorkshireman, “and now is the time to stop it. The men are tired of it, and the masters are sick of it, but neither will give ig, so a way must be found out of the tangle, an] you are the man to find the way.” “How? The men won't throw over G bons, and Sartwell will resign before he will confer with him. Remember how Gib- bons swayed the men last night, in spite of the grumbling there had been against him before tre meeting opened.” “Yes, I know. But, my lad, there is dis- sension in the other camp as well as in ours. Sartwell’s coming out as he did just now Was as much defiance of his mast as of his men. If we knew the truth of i beth Monkton and Hope wanted him to come with them and their bodyguard. He refused. From what I hear, Mr. Hope was so frightened this morning tlat he could not have spoken if his life had depended vpon it. There must have been some hot talk between the three today. Sartwell un- derestimates the danger, and the two own- While Marsten Ate Mr. Hope Rose and Cautiously Turned the Key in the Door. ers perhaps overestimate it. What I am sure of is that there is division between Sartwell and the masters, and when they hear that he came out alone tonight, while they were guarded by twelve policemen, they'll be more angry than ever, if there's ary spirit in either of them. “Now, what you must do tomorrow is to meet cither Monkton or Hope, or both, if possibie. You'll see they won't look near the works again until this strike’s ended. I'd go to Mr. Hope first if I were you. He’s had the worst fright. Tell him you want to end the trouble and he’ll listen willingly. Very likely he has some plan of his own that Sartwell won't let him try. If you get h:m to promise to give us what we want if we throw over Gibbons, we'll spring that on the meeting, and you'll see, if we work it right, Gibbons will be thrown over. Then there will be no trouble with Sartwell.” “It seems a treacherous thing to do,” said Marsten, with some hesitation. “God's truth, lad,” cried Braunt, with some impatience; “haven't they been treat. ing you like a traitor ever since this strike began? What's the difference if it does look like treachery? Think of the wives and children of the men, if not of the men themselves; think of those that no one has given a thought to all these weeks, the wo- men workers in the top floor of the works. They've had little strike pay; they have no vote at the meetings, and they have to suffer and starve when they are willing to work. Treachery? I'd be a traitor a thous- and times over to see the works going “1° do it,” said Marsten. taliway tare, 80 ct morning cart he on next set his face to the west, and trudged along the Portsmouth road the“twetve miles’ dis- Satie tote eee Surbiton. ki e wal up the beautifully kept drive to the Hope mansion, he thought he saw the owner among thejtrees at the rear, Pr ee oy SR a ent, but fin: decided to apply formally at the front door. The servant looked at him with evident Suspicion, and, after learning his business, Promptly returned, saying Mr. Hope could not see him. The door was shut upon him, but Maersten felt sure Mr. Hope had not been consulted in the tter, go, instead of going out by the gaté he had entered, he went around the house to the plantation , and there came upon Mr. Hope, who was much alarmed at, seeing a strang- er Boasts Sores before him. “I am one of your workinen, Mr. Ho} -” began Marsten, by way of Teassuring the Uttle man, but his worddhad an entirely pipente effect. Mr. Hope-looked wildly to right and left of him, but seeing no chance of escape resigned himself, with a deep = to Saaraite ores other shape is particular workingman’: might take igman’s arguments g t do you want?” falt - DLeen at sees ered the em: want this strike to end.” ‘Oh, so do I, so do IY” cried Mr. Hope, almost in tears. “Then, Mr. Hope. won't you allow me to speak with you for a few moments and see we cannot find seme wa: dlmoutty 2 y out of the “Surely, surely,” replied the trembli: old man, visibly relieved at finding his oaes employe did not intend tc use the stout stick which he carried in his hand for the Purpose of a personal assault. “Let us walk a little further from the house, where we can talk quietly. Have you anything to propose” “Well, the chief trouble seems to be that Mr. Sartwell will not meet Gibbon: “Ah, Sartwell!” said the old man, as if whispering to himself. “Sartwell is a strong man—a strong man; difficult to per- suade—difficult to persuade.” Then turn- ing suddenly he asked: “You are not Gib- bons, are you?” “No. My name is Marsten. Gibbons was the man who tried to speak with vou yesterday at the gates.” ane old man shuddered at the recollec- tion. “There were so many there I did not see iy one distinctly, and it all took place so suddenly. I don’t remember Gibbons. It was dreadful, dreadful!’ “I hope you were not hurt?” “No, no. Merely a scratch or two. ’ Noth- ing to speak of. Now, what can be done about the strike?” “Would you be prepared to grant ‘the requests of the men if they were to throw over Gibbors and send a deputation to Mr. Sartwell?” “Oh, willingly, ‘most willingly. I don’t at all remember what it is the men want, but we'll grant it; anything to stop this suicidal struggle. Does Sartwell know you?” “Yes, sii “Of course he does. He knows every one in the works, by name even. A wonder- ful man—a wonderful man! I often wish I had more influence with him. Now, if you would go and see Mr. Sartwell—he lives at Wimbleton; it’s on your way; I asked him not to go to the works today. So perhaps you will find him at home—you might possibly arrange with him about re- ceiving a deputation. Perhaps it would be best not to tell him that you've seen me—yes, I’m sure it's best not. Then ['ll speak to him about granting the men’s de- mands. I'll put my foot down; so will Monkton. We'll be firm with him.” The old man glanced timidly over his shoulder, “We'll say to him that we've stood at his back about Gibbons, and now he must set- tle at once with the men when they’y abandoned Gibbons. Why ‘will he not see Gibbons? Do you know?»'Has he a per- sonal dislike to the man?'’// “Oh, no. It is a matter.of principle with Mr. Sartwelj. Gibbons»ts mot one of your workmen. “Ah, yes, yes. I remember now. That's exactly what Sartwell said. Well, I'm very much obliged to you for coming, and I hope ‘these awful occurrences are at an end. Good-bye! There's a train in half an hour that s at Wimbledon.” “Thank , Mr. Hope, but I'm on foot today.” “Bless me, it’s a long fistance and round- about by road. ‘The train will get you there in a few minutes.” arsten laughed. “1 don’t mind walking,” he said. ‘The old man looked ‘at him for a few minutes. “You don’t mean to tel? me you have walked all the way fromt London this morning! “It's Only twelve or thirteen railes.” “Dear, dear, dear, dear! I see, I see. Yes, Sartwell’s right. I'm not a very bril- s liant man, although I think on anager should not say so before one’s partner. Come with me to the house jor a moment. “{ think I should be off now. “No, no, come with mi i won't k jong; I won't take ar al. put my foot down, as I said. p you I'm going to i have had too little self-a: ion in the past. Come along!” The courageous man led the way toward bis dwelling, keeping the trees between himself and the house as much as possible and as long as he could. He uffled hur- ried}y across the open space nd went gingerly up the steps at the back of the building, letting himself into a wide hail, and then noiselessly entered a square room that looked out upon the broad lawn and plantation to the rear. The room was lined with books; a solid oak table stood in the center, flanked by comfortable armchairs. Mr. Hope rang the bell and held the door ightly ajar. “Is there any cold meat down stairs, Susy?’ he whispered to the unseen person through the opening. “Yes, sir.” “Well, bring up enough for two; some pickles, bread and butter, and a ‘bit of chees Then turning ‘to Marsten he asked, “Will you drink wine or beer?” “Really, Mr. Hope,” said the young man, moistening his lips and speaking with diffi- culty, “I'm not in the least hungry. Which was not true, for the very recital of the articles of food made him feel so faint that he had to lean against the book- case for support. “Bring a bottle of beer, please,” whis- pered the host, softly closing the door. “Sit down, sit down,” he said to Marsten. “Not hungry? Of course you're hungry after such a walk, no matter how hearty a breakfast you took before you left.” While Marsten ate Mr. Hope said no- thing, but sat listening with apparently in- tense anxiety. Once he rose and cautiously turned the key in the door, breathing easier when this was done. “Now,” said the old m had finished his mi rail to Wimbledon. Time —time is of importance. money for expense: “IT caunot take money from you, Hope, but thank you all the same.” “Nonsense, nonsense. You are acting for me, you know.” “No, sir, I am acting for the men.” “Well, it’s the same thing. Benefit one, benefit ‘all. Come, come, I insist. I put down my foot. Call it wages, if you like. No doubt, you didn’t want to strike.” “I didn’t want to, but I struck.” “Same thing, same thing. You must take the money.” “I'd much rather not, sir.”” Marsten saw the anxiety of his host, who acted as a man might;over whose head some disaster impended,, and it weakened his resolution not to take the money. He understood that for some reason Mr. Hope wanted him to take the ‘thoney and be gone. Gass “Tut, tut,” persisted the eld man, eager- ly. “We mustn't let trifles stand in the way of success.” uw : As he was speaking, “nm ‘imperious voice sounded in the hall—the’voite of a woman. A sudden pallor overspr Mr. Hope's face, that reminded Marstep, of the look it wore when the twelve policemen escorted him and his partner through the crowd. when Marsten ju must go by of importance Here is a little Mr. “Here, here,” said the id man, in a husky whisper, “take the fhoney and say nothing about it—nothing ahout it.’ Marsten took the money:jand slipped it into his pocket. The voice ia the hall rang out again. . an) “Where is Mr. Hope, Sus&n?’”’ it asked. “He was in the back walk.a few minutes ago, mum.” qv J Firm footsteps passed down the hall, the outside door opened and shut, and in the silence the crunch on the gravel was dis- tinctly heard. The anxiety cleared away from Mr. Hope's face like the passing of a cloud, and a faint smiJe hovered about his lips. He seemed to have forgotten Marsteh's pres- ence in the intensity of the moment. “Clever girl. Susy—so I was; so I was,” he mwmured to himself. “Good-bye, and thank you, Mr. Hope,” said Marsten, rising. “I will go at. once d_see Mr. Sartwell.” . “Yes, yes. In a moment—in a moment,” said the old man, with a glance out of the window. His voice sank into an apologetic tone as he added, as if asking ‘a favor: “Won't you take some money with you to be given anonymously—anonymously, mind ihe negotiations ‘ay take afew dave, sey nego! ns may a few , I understand they are badly off—badly off.” Even Marsten smiled at this suggestior. “I don’t see how that could he managed. I shall have to tell the men I have been to see you, or at least some of them, and oe. might misurderstand. I think, per- pa— “I see—I see. There is a difficulty, of course. I shall send it in the usual way to the papers. Thi the best plan. “To the papers,” said Marsten, aston- ished. The old man looked at him in alarm. “I didn’t intend to menticn that. As you say, it might be misunderstood. The world seems to be made-up of misunderstandings, but you'll not say anything about it, will you? I did it in a roundabout way, so as not to cause any ill-feeling, under the name of ‘Well-wisher.’ Merely trifles, you know, trifles, now and then. Sartwell said the strike would end in a fortnight or three weeks. He's a clever man, Sartwell—a clever man—but was mistaken in that. We all make mistakes one time or another. I wouldn’t care for him to know, you see, that I contributed anoymously to the strike fund; he might think it prolonged the strike, and perhaps it did—perhaps it did. It is difficult to say what one’s duty is in a case like this—very difficult. So, perhaps it is best to mention this to no one.” “I shall never breathe a word about it, Mr. Hope.” “That's right—that’s right. I am very glad you came, and I'll speak to Sartwell about you when we get in running order again. Now, just come out by the front door this time, and when you speak to Mr. Sartwell be careful not to say anything that might appear to criticise his actions in any way. Don’t cross him—don’t cross him. The easiest way is generally the best. If any one has to put a foot down, leave that to me—leave that to me. The manufacturer himseif let his employe out by the front entrance, and the young man walked briskly to Surbiton Station. (To be Continued Next Saturday) es AT A RAILROAD STATION. What Happened When a Dranken Man Tried to Board a Moving Train. From the New York Sun. “Standing the other day on a railroad platform waiting for a train,” said a trav- eler, “I saw among the passengers who had just got off a train—not the train that I wanted—a well-dressed man ®%ho was drunk; he was noticeable on that account. He went into the station, and the other passengers disappeared, as people do after they get off a railroad train. The people who had been waiting for that train board- ed it, and the platform, a minute before all in a bustle, was now almost deserted, except for a few who were waiting as I was for the train in the other direction, and a policeman. “Out, from one of the station doors came the man with the jag. He saw the deserted plaiform, and then he looked up and saw the train—his train—moving smoothly and rapidly out of the station and gathering the time, and instantly he headway ali made a break for it, running along the platform at the start and obliquely off upon the tracks. Of course everybody on the platform watched him, as people do when they haven't anything to do, and almost everybody was inclined to smile at the effort of a man to overtake a railroad train. “But this man was a runner, and he w: not only swift, but true. From the instant he appeared through the door of the station and saw the moving train and broke into the run he never wavered. He ran as true as a die. If he had been a second later he wouldn't have made it at all. As it was, he came alongside the last car of the mo: ing train just back of the front platform. We thought he would miss it even then, but he made a spurt, came up level with the steps, caught the handrail nearest to him— the one on the body of the car—made a spring for the steps, at the same time reaching for the other handrail—the one on the forward part of the platform. He got his feet up on the steps, missed the | front rail by a hair, swung around back- ward again off the step, and then hung there for a second or two, holding with one hand the gail he had grabbed first and dangling from the corner of the car. “Weil, we had all stopped smiling som time before that. The policeman and one or two more had started on a run up the platform toward the train. They couldn't do anything; the thing had got to work itself out now, but it was natural to make a rush for the place. The chances were a@ million to one that he couldn't pui!l him self up, and he could no: In a second or two he dropped. Of course there was an even chance that he would fail outward clear of the car, as he might tumble ir ward under the car and be smashed. What actually did happen was this: He fell so that he lay stretched out on the ground parallel with the track and under the pro- Jecting side of the car. If he kept still he vas as safe there as if he had been in China. If he should roll over outwardly he would roll into safety; inwardly he would roll into almost certain death. If he sat up he was sure to be hit by some of the projecting attachments of the car. It was a thrilling situation while it lasted. “What the man did do was to lie perfectly still; he had been stunned or dazed by the fall, and in a second the car had passed on and left him lying there, safe. The po- liceman picked him up and brought him back to the platform; he could walk then ali right and talk, but he hadn’t the faint- est realization of what he had just escaped. “For my own part, I never try to board a moving train. Life is much too short to be fooled away in any such fashion as that.” ——__+ e+ —_____ STYLE IN LITERATURE, It Gives a Flavor of [ts Own to Every Sentence an Author Writes. “Not only is their thought so much bet- ter than your average thought, but their lar guage is so much better than your aver- age language,” says “Droch” with refer- ence to standard fiction in the Januar: Ladies’ Home Journal. “I do not mea he adds, “simply correctness of speech— but something finer that is called style. Style has been written about very learned- ly by learned men. In Its highest devel- opment it is a very complicated thing. It is the very essence of culture, knowledge and artistic temperament that gives a flavor of its own to every sentence that an author writes. But without entering into the subtleties of style it is surely evident to every reader of average intelligence and sensibility that there is a grat dif- ference in the manner of telling a story, for instance. It does not require a subtle mind to feel the difference in the telling of Hawthorne's ‘Scarlet Letter’ and Hugh Conway’s ‘Called Back.’ “By common consent Hawthorne is ac- knowledged the best master of style that America has produced. Wher you have read one of his stories—no matter how dark the crime that he has studied in it— you never feel that he has dragged down your thoughts. It is not only because he is a great moralist in his stories, but be- cause he is a great master of style also. His language is elevated, poetic, fascinat- ing. It makes the appeal to what is fine in your nature rather than to what is gross.” a How Two Girls Made Money. “A country girl who is determined to go to Paris to study art is laying aside for this purpose each dollar she has earned,” writes Ruth Ashmore in an article on “The Girl in the Country.” in the January Ladies’ Home Journal. “She found that there was no one else in the village who could make as good bread and biscuit as she; that those who had to buy complained of the baker's bread. She made no effort at sending her bread to a woman’s exchange, as she knew that such places were always overstocked, but she went through her own town—a very small one—and asked for orders. She is making money because there has never been a sad loaf of bread or a heavy bis- cuit sent out from her kitchen. She will supply a neighbor with hot biscuits at tea time, and she has learned to make dainty rusk, especially for invalids, who enjoy these light, sweet dainties. Her prices are reasonable. “Another girl, ambitious to gain somc-, thing, got her father to let her have a bit of ground, and to give her the money that he would’ otherwise have bestowed upon her for a wedding dress. “With this she was able to buy plants and to hire a boy to help her, and during the summer, while the boarding houses around demanded the crispest. of lettuce, the. sarllest erispest of lettuce, the earl corn, ‘and the largest tomatoes, and she says now that she thinks she will double the size of her garden next summer.” Expressing His Choice. From the Detroit Free Press. Landlady—-“How do you like your oysters, Mr. Piply?” . Z New Boarder—“Not more than a dozen in the dish, and well seasoned.” DERELIGT VESSELS Location Shown by Charts Issued by the Hydrographic Office. HOW THE INFORMATION IS SECURED Lessening the Dangers Which Threaten Navigators. OCEAN PATHWAYS N IMPORTANT aS work of a life and EE money-saving char- =e acter is accomplished =e s—= by the hydrographic = office of the Navy De- partment’s bureau of navigation. Ccom- mander C. D. Sigs- bee, the present head of the hydrographic office, is not addicted to the statistical hab- it and does not en- gage in the making of rough estimates, but {t is believed that the data which is being constantly issued under his direction for the benefit of navi- gators, with regard to derelict vessels, broker:-up rafts, icebergs and other danger- cus obstructions to navigation adrift in the two great oceans, saves many a stanch ship and many a hardy sailor and sea voyager from the deep’s remorseless maw every year. It is a fact well proven by figures that there is almost as much danger from col- lisions at sea as from storms. Modern sci- entific navigation is of late years largely obviating the danger of collision between oppositely moving vessels by means of well- understood international signaling systems, uniformity in the matter of standing iights, and so on; but all of the science and care in the world could not prevent frequent lisions between swiftly moving ships and steamers and abandoned and waterlogged derelicts of the sea, to say nothing of ice- kergs, were not the ever-shifting positions of these life-jeopardizing ocean castawa censtantly known and noted on the pilot charts issued every month by the hydro- graphic office for the information and guld- ance of deep-sea mariners. A Untiyue Service. Several of the other leading maritime na- tions of the world maintain hydrographic cffices Gf more or less importance, and the work done by these is in some respects sim- ilar to that performed by the United States hydrographic office. But the work accom plished by all of them together, it is claim- ed, 1s nothing like so comprehensive and valuabie as that which is quietly tentatiously done by this suboffic of the United States’ naval bureau: This is amply shown by the w and even eagerness with which t 3 chant ippers of the other great maritime countries, especially those of England, de- vote their time and skill to the sup, tation of the United States hydrographic office's work, while many of them utter! Gecline to do any sort of similar work to assist the ocean-charting bureau of lands under hose flags they ser 's hydrographic ; world’s merchant marine th recognize that they get value re i : the form of the free issue to them of publi- cations relating to storms, currents, tides derelicts, upon which matters the h: drographic offi of no other country tends to d. minate perpetuall: fermaiion, and which these nav’ during recent years foun¢ pensable. Charts of the Ocean. The United States hydrograph the only one in the world which issu monthly pilot chart of the two great oceans showing the positions of de: s of the sea and of Icebergs. England, the leading maritime country of the world, f 2S on to its mari such informat the form of bulletins, which ¢ lati- tude and longitude of the obst n to navigation. The Washington hydrographic bulletin © such office al ery week. direction is in the form of two « of the Atlantic and the other of ti ocean, a g oh, as spread out on navigator’s most infa on th is likely ues a But its most important work in this one ris, the him the position, with al actitude, of the obstruction: way of the deep which he counter on his co The mast sailing vessel weighing anchor, for in- tance, from Yokohama for San Francisco pan, by reference to the hydrographic cffice’s chart of the Norta Pa his course as to keep out of the wa abandoned ship which the chart was reported a few days before in a ci position, moving with a certain current in a certain direction If the skipper does not deem it necessar: to alter his course to avoid such a dang ous obstruction he at least doubles the lookout to keep a sharp watch for it when his ship approaches the latitude and longi- tude indicated on the chart. The chart for the Atlantic ocean has been issued by the hydrographic office every month for the past thirteen years, while that for the Pacific has only been published during the past two years, The charted positions of derelicts and icebergs s given on the charts have been verified so often by the commanders of ships that the skippers of all nations have come to regard these two monthly maps of the sea as almost abso- lutely infallible. Corps of Voluntary Assistants. It is entirely through the willing co-oper- ation of shipmasters that the hydrographic office is enabled $0 collect the data neces- sary for the making up of these veluable charts. There is probably no single office under this government that has so many voluntary, helpful agents as the hydro- graphic office. Its daily mail consists in ‘| deep sea voyages, blanks for the jotting down of this information, great part of hundreds of letters from mation from shipmasters not only with ref- erence to derelicts and icebergs which they unusual currents, tides and storms through which their ships have passed on their lest The branch hydrographic offices, which the bureau of uavigation has established at all of the country’s leading ports, issue to the skippers, on their departure on long and the ship- masters are few who do not as religiously for as they write their daily logs. There ‘s an especial blank for the noting of the general trend of the currents in which the obsirections were drifting when the ob- There is, besides, a separate blank for observations on ice- bergs encountered. These are carefully the United States hydrographic office in this city as soon as their vessels reach Most of the skippers do not confine them- but send in quite elaborate accounts be- have happened upon in the course of their majority of sailors, fore and aft, mas- aversion to the use of pen and ink, the the better appreciated. The documents notable for elegance of diction or fluency solid facts that are of a good deal more value to the hydrographic office than would formation, but surcharged with references to ametkyst seas, opaiescent clouds, and every corner of the world, containing infor- have encountered on their courses, but to voyages. h fill out these blanks with the data called positiors of derelicts, together with the servations were made. filled out by the skippers, and forwarded to port. selves to the mere filling out of the blanks, sides cf the unusual things which they trips. When it is considered that the vast ters and men, have a curiously intense zeal of these commanders of ships will be sent in by a good many of them are not of style, but they always contain good, be frothy, poetic dissertations, bare of in- FO on. the American skippers in their endeavors to send in useful and faithful reports as to derelicts and icebergs. The abandoned wanderers of the sea cail- ed derelicts are noied on the charts in the Pceitions as to latitude and tongitude, and the manner in which they set on the bo- som of the deep, in accordance with the last repcris concerning them. A three- moested schooner, reported bottom up a few hundred miles east of Hatteras, is minute- ly pictured on the map in the position in which it was iast seen, with its spars potting downward. A four-masted full- rigged sbip, so many hundreds of miles from the Bahamas, is portrayed with its stern deep in the water, a small base line uncerneath the picture rendering graphic the portrayal of its half-sunken condition. The little red base line also serves to il- lustrate and to identify the appearance of @ steamer, deserted and adrift in the mtd dle of the Atlantic, with its how entirely submerged. On the chart of the Atlantic these significant and sad little‘ pictures are many, expecially near the coasts of the United States and Great Britain. Many of them are right in the tracks of the great transatlantic liners, both on the north- ern and southern passages. On the Pacitic chart the greater number of derelicts il- lustrated ure on thc Japanese and Chinese coasts. The icebergs are pictured on the charts by little red triangles, with the date printed underneath them, on which they were last sighted. These little tri- angles occur in large numbers chiefly off the ccasts of Newfoundland and Labra- dor on the Atlantic, and the Alaska and British Columbian coast on the Pacific. How They Are Located. It might naturally be thought that it would be impossible to fix with any degree of exactness the positions of these ob- structions, owing to the constant driving hither end thither to which they are sub- ject by tides, currents and storms. As the position of a certain derelict is only pub- lished on the chart once a month, the in- ference would be natural that such a dere let might change its position by hundreds of mites by that given on the chart. This would be true encugh were it not for the fact that the same derelicts are often re- Perted to the hydrographic office as many 2s fifty times a month by the ship masters who have chanced upon them, and as the chart is gotten up and printed with -ex- treme rapidity, the makers of the chart thus enabled to use the last report as a basis for their estimates. For, as a matter of fact, there is necessarily some estimat- ing in the fixing of the positions of these derelicts and icebergs. To illustrate how this is done: The chart is printed at the beginning of each month. The last report ore Geretiet steamer is sent to the hydrographic office either by mail or by tele; ‘aph or cable (for the skippers who co-op te with the of- fice are permitted to use the wires when important occasions demand such sse). A derelict steamer, for example, wa: en by the master vf an Atlantic liner 500 miles southwest of Sandy Hook November 25 The people in the hydrographic office pos- sess mathematical! exact information as to the sort of current swiftness, which Spot, so that, in pi later, the its prevails at ating the chart fiv are enabled lirection az I to figure on progress which the derelict has mz such a current during the days. They also make allowance for unusual tides. If there should occur a severe storm dori the five days that lapse since the last ing of the derelict, the hydrographic Dave at their fingers’ ends the dire taken by the storm, and its force, and t calculate the driving effect in with tide and current. which the s probably had upon the derelict cases out of ten the calculations thus make are afterward prov. m In nine h they A Great Traveler. rtain d>relicts are reported to the hs drographic office at frequent intervals tor periods covering years. The derelict which has the record for wandering is named the Fannie E. Wolston, abandoned in t uth Atl, a schooner which was fe in 1891, This schooner was carried by circling cur- rents ali over the Atlantic orean, north and south, and was reported s of times each year for nears rangin er having been ing time, acco r hy} ray office she wandered nearly S000 miles. For that is known to ihe « trary, she may be still drifting, altho: she has not been heard of for over two year: Cong never noticed the re mendation of the chief of the burei of ravigation that a arate appropr n be set aside for the blowing up of de by United States war vessels, such recommendations have ‘1 been made. An American man ar is ccasionally detailed to blow up with dynamite particularly dangerous dereli-ts floating near the coasts in the track of out, ided for tion, the as it in the aluable se expensive ule wor naval which 0 ot > wise unemploy ips could render in this direction are ssarily restricted _— eas UNDER WATER TEEN HOURS, The Possibilities in r of Sub- marine Boats Are Looking Up From th ti An Italian i: ventor named Corzetto has Ame constructed an apparatus which he calls a “methydrie sphe and by means of which he professes to be able to descend to any depth in the sea. In his experi at Spezzia he stored some of compressed air he entered with two f: wes then lowered to a dep feet. As after-an expirat the here” had not yet been seen to re- asc surface, a message Was sen: to the admiral in command of the naval departmest, who at once sent a diver to the spot. The “sphere” was found still resting on the sea bottom, but the div heard nothing in answer ‘to his kx me barges having been brought to pot by a tug, the “sphere” was haule. with ropes, and as soon as it ‘ dcer was opened, and the inventor apr ed with 2 livid face and half asphyxiated. His two companions were unconscious, jut were quickly resuscitated. They had_re wained eighteen hours under water. The inventor explains that so far all his ex- periments were successful, but on this 9c- jon when he intended to return to the surface the air pressure at his command proved insuflicient to expel the water bal- lest, of about two tons’ weight, which had so far kept his appliance submerged, and hence they had to remain where taey were until rescued. At any rate, three persons were enabled to remain under water eigateen hours, and this experiment may not be without significance as regards the much discussed problem of submarine nav- igation. i up for The GURSE Of mankind—contagiuus blood polson—clatmed as its victim Mr. Frank B. Martin, Pennsylvenia avenue, Washington, D.C, and the usual physician's treatment did him not the slightest good. His condition -eached that deplorable stage which only this terrible disease can produce. rile GURE After all else failed, was at last found i S. 8. S.—the greatest of all blood remedies, Eighteen bottles removed the disease perma pently, and left bis skin without a blemish, S. 8. 8. ts guaranteed purely vegetable, and is the only known cure for this most terrible disease. Books free; ad- dress Swift Specific Com- pany, Atlanta, Ga. i) ocoa