Evening Star Newspaper, October 9, 1897, Page 24

24 THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 9, 1897-26 PAGES. A SPANISH MINE 2 An Adventure of an Amateur Detective. ee ee BY MAJOR ARTHUR GRIFFITHS. ae by SS. McClure Co.) early spring the O. company int on her hom y and was about to stop at ar for a few hours. the crowd of passengers loung- t the deck or hanging against the a sallow-faced, dark . whose spare, ame and lack-luster eye showed Ith had suffered from prolonged n the “shiny” evst. Macraghten-Innes, was that may be permitted to preface he adventures that will be hereafter set forth by a few brief words about myself. Some twenty years previously I had join- i 1 man, a | you. | the I ought to have a look atthe mine if it is anyway near here.” “It is, or is supposed to be, as I have told But how am I to find it? Can take a return ticket by next train? There Is no train. I've inquired here, and they tell me it's a three or four days’ ride, and that’s not much in my line. Of course, I ought to have brought out an expert, but I thought I knew ail about mines and minerals. I've had enough trouble with them.” re, Harry Brightsmith,” I said, “Shall I stop here and see you it? It might help you, and would amuse me. I know Spanish and something | of this neighborhcod. Shall I stay?” He accepted. my offer with enthusiasm, so I sent on board for my traps, and was | presently in close conference with my old friend at the King’s Arms Hotel. had a good map of southern Anda- the latest government survey, also ns criginally made to go with the | contract for the sale. We easily fixed upon cality*or, rather, the alleged local yo of the mine, for its existence had still to be proved. But the estate of the Marquis de Aimendral was clearly marked under its name of the Lianura de las Sierras. We saw from the map that it was a long, deep mountain valley some six or seven miles iniand from Marbella, and ending in a pre- : 1 de sac, at the bottom of which d the mine to be. It was called in the mining pian El Rien Escondida— “The Well Hidden.” Was it to deserve its | | appellation? “ONE OF THE BAGS MUST HAVE BURST.” ed the staff ment in I guages had help rps from ap infantry rezi- A natural taste for lan- in passing the higher zt in Hindustani and a fair knowledge of Arabic 2 ering of Hindee. These ac- rements had gaired me a I” billet. entered the police department, and was almost entirely with m to considerable In one recent cas success I was terious crime of poisoning by Datura to its perpe- tra and for this I had received the thanks overnment. Then, just when I was on the high read to speedy advance- ment. on the very threshold of a brilliant future. my heaith broke down. A long ill- followed the completion of the case es joned, with its incessant labors ties. I was now on my wa3 . but with a serious warn- octors that it would be pe: urn to India. nt on,a scanty To be n when m impossible to find bitter blow to a man who still felt himself fit for something. I had no pre pect. no hope of finding suitable employ- ment in England. so at least I thought in my then d-spondent condition. My active career, a I believed. had terminated abruj I was too poor to marry; I had elaticns, I could have no home ys and a back bed room off St. eet. There was nothing before to Vegetate in obscurity without pe or horizon, disappointed and useless until I faded rapidly into premature old age. As I brooded thus moo#ily, taking no ia- terest in the bustle and scuffle around, I was frequently challenged to run ashore with the rest. Bui I had no raltar “like my heart for it. I knew Gib- pocket; I had been quar- tered there with my regiment in early days; the place was full of ghosts. I did not wish to be reminded of jeyous times in day of youta now when I was s9 ly conscious of the failure I had made in life. Yet I went, and almost immediately tum- bled upon an old friend. It was Harry Brightsmith, whem I Fad not seen since wer: is at sckool together. He was mow grown into a puffy, round-cheeked, consequential little man, with the self- Satisfied air of one accustomed to give ad- vice to others. He was 4 partner in the highly respectable firm of Black & Bright- smit tors, of Gresham street. As we Jked up Waterport street to- gether he explained this unexpected meet- ing. “I came out a couple of days ago,” he said, “by the mail steamer, meaning to travel to some beastly place inland. Rut I have been stepped here by a telegram from my partner with some curious news. I'm fairly beat; and don’t know what is best to do.” Is it business?” Yes. On account of some clients of ours, heirs of the late Sir William McKillop. He went rather blindly into a mining speculation in these parts (quite without consulting us, you understand). Now it's all in a tangle. The heirs are minors un- able to act for themselves and even we can make nothing of it. So we decided that one of us ought to come out and look after the property. Black couldn't, or wouldn't, and it fell to my share, worse luck.” “Let's hear about it. Where ts the mine exactly, and what ts the trouble?” “It's a lead mine in some mountains forty or fifty miles from here. The nearest town is called Marbella.” “I know it—on the coast, half way to Malaga, “The mine was brought to Sir William McKillop's notice by a mining expert, and I believe the scheme looked extremely ‘rosy. I find a report among his papers that the ore was very plentiful and very rich. it could be worked easily, labor was cheap, the stuff could be got down without diffi- culty and shipped on the open sea beach. Sir William took to the thing, paid a large sum for firs hts, and just as he was looking for returns, died. Then when we went into the business, as representing the beneficia! under the will, we could not see our way. We've been eleven months trying to straighten it up, and have done just nothing at all. There is hitch after hitch. We can get no information, no re- plies to our letters. The engineers who brought the thing to McKillop cannot be found. re they the real vendors?” The property belonged really to a nobleman, a certain Marquis de ral. He mewhere in this God- countr: 1 suppo: but the c 0. Spanish Alm: forsake made with the engineers, w! lead in everything. uu can't come down on the en- find them, I tell you. You evi- n't know much about mining en- —of this sort, anyway. They're like and have slipped clean out of sight. It Was a firm, called Cripps Raskelf Bros. I knew them. and once had dealings with them, to my sorrow. It was in a South African company, and we acted for the pro- moters, but got left high and dry. I smelt semi hing fishy in this business when I heard that Cripps Raskelf was in it. It Was about his last coup.” “Has the firm failed?” “Gone under completely. The whole of them—lock, stock and barrel. The part- ners have disappeared to the uttermost ends of the earth. Cripps was last heard of in western Australia, somewhere on the Murchison: his brother Silas is supposed to be in Mysore; the rest of them are in Abyssinia, South America, Alaska, good- ness knows where.” Why don't you take possession of the property and work the mine or sell it for the benefit of McKillop’s heirs?" “I came out here on purpose to do that. But since I left England we hear from our Madrid correspondents that the Spanish government has issued an injunction to stop our proceedings. We are foreigners end must fulfill certain conditions, satisfy some prior claims, goodness knows whi Black wires me to go on straight to Mad- as and work matters at the fountain “Well, what do you advise?” Brightsmith anxiously. “Clearly, the first thing is to verify the asked existence of the mine. That settled, you must remove the government ‘stop’ and get pos: on. The whole affair is com- prised in those two points. You can’t work the mine without squaring the government, and you don’t want to square the govern- ment if there o mine. Some one must Start for Marhe! at once.” “Aye, but who? It’s a forty-mile ride I paused before answering him. I was not in robust health, but a few days om horseback among the Vermilion hills would act a a fine tonic. To ride to Marbella and back would be nothing to a man who had almost lived in the saddle for years. What I should find mere chiid’s play would be seriou: ertion for my soft and fleshy friend B: ith. It would be time enough for him to face the effort when he went armed with p er authority to take possessicn of the mine. Of course we might send an emissary, but that would have meant taking some outsider into our confidence, and, after se years, I knew no guide or mu- : Re ibraltar whom I could thorough- rust. I'll go myself, Harry,” I said at length. “I know my way about. I've been to Mar- bella before, I can easily find my way there alone, and on to the mine—if there is one this side of the Sierra Morena. Three or four days from now ought to settle that part of the question. My preparaions were soon made. A visit to Montegriffo's stables secured me a ser- viceable mount. The hunting season was now over, and I had plenty of choice. I hired a big-boned, flea-bitten gray, with huge head—an ugly horse, but of the class and color much esteemed in southern Spain for spirit and endurance. I had breeches and “putties” in my portmanteau, I shoved a few necessaries in my saddle wallets and I was ready for the road. By 9 that night I reached Estepona, and put up at the Fonda del Mar. Here I was more tran half way to Marbella. After a sound sleep, and seeing that my horse ate all his barley, I continued my journey soon after daybreak. The road led along the coast, a mere mule track, rising now over low hills, now skirting the water’s edge, and when the sun rose upon the glassy sea, glinting brightly upon the white houses of the distant town, I thought it the fairest scene I had viewed for many a day. When still some miles from Marbella, I came upon a busy scene down upon the beach below me. The coast line made a deep indentation here, running back into a small cove or creek, and I saw that a falucha, or lateen-satied craft of this coun- try, lying close in, was being laden with produce of some sort, packed in small kegs, Hard by stood.a group of patient beasts of barden, mules and donkeys, by which, no doubt, the cargo had been brought thither. With careless interest I paused to watch the work, and while I watched it came to an end; the animals were got ready for the roa with many an “aree”’ (gee up) and fierce whack of the stick the train was Started in the direction that I myself was going. But I saw no more of it until an hour or so later, when, having passed through Marbella without halting, 1 came vpon it well inside the Llanura valley. It must have taken some shorter cut, but this concerned me less than the obvious fact that it was heading for the mine. I saw that the beasts now bore no loads. They kad the weary, footsore gait of ani- mals that had traveled far, and I was satisfied—the conclusion was inevitable— that they had been down to the coast with @ cargo of—ore. What else but minerals could be raised in this inhospitable valley whose iron-bound sides now rose straight and sheer above me as I penetrated farther into the pass? Ere long, with my good gray I over- Eauled the party. _immediately 2 man, no doubt its leader, Getached himself from the party and came toward me. He was of dark, forbidding aspect, and he addressed me with scant courtesy. Disdaining to reply to my “Vaya usted con Dios,” the usual compliment of the road, he peremptorily asked me who I was and whither I was going. “I am an English officer from La Penon, the great rock, and I go where I please,” I said shortly. ““Phis rcad leads nowhere.” “Then why do you travel by it?” I re- torted. “That is our affair; we have no account to reader to you. It is our ground, this; we want no strangers here. Turn back! “What treasures do you keep concealed in the rocks up there? “A hidden gold mine, perchance? ‘ At my use of the word “Escondida” the man started as if I had shot him, then shouted a few sharp words to his com- paniors. In an instant they had halted, faced round, and came at me with such an ugly, threatening look that in common prudence I retired before them. My g900d gray soon left them far behind, and I rode into Marbella without drawing There, at the inn, I refreshed man and beast, and sought some corroboration of my suspicions. The landlord's reluctance in answering ny questions, his repeated Dios sabe (God only knows) confirmed me in my belief that there was really a. mine, and that it was being worked moze or less secretly and not for the - rasce benefit of McKil- I gained further and more convincing evi- dence on my homeward ride, and on visit- ing the place where the falucha had been taking In cargo, the boat was gone. I could see its sails on the far horizon. But here upon the beach was an unmistakable tell-tale of what her business had been. One of the bags must have burst as it was going on board, and some of ita con- tents were scattered about in the sand. I picked up half a dozen pieces of dark-col- ored stone, which Brightsmith, when I pro- duced them, pronounced to be, without doubt, galena or ore of lead. It was on the third morning at Gibraltar, not long after gunfire, that I roused him out to tell him my news. He was profuse in a thanks, but — him short. “We tter push through to Mad: without loss of Cane I said. ne “The game must be played out there.” All that tedious and fatiguing journey my friend railed against all rogues, Spaniards “Right enough. At the same time, you | ana mining experts in particular, and talked lightly of what he meant to do on reaching Madrid. I noticed a great change in his demeanor as he referred to the law; he began to patronize me, az though what remained was his afteir. He meant to take the case straight into the Spanish courts. An action for trespass would lie, with all the pains and penalties. The people who had “jumped” the mine must be ejected summarily and properly punished. “Il let them cee. That's my_ business. Mac, I don’t know that I need detain you new, if you are anxious (o go home.” He was so pompous and self-satisfied that I felt inclined to take him at his word. But the detective instinct was strong in me, and I wanted to see the thing through. I was soon avenged on Brightsmith. He had met with a disheartening check at the very outset. It was neces ry for him to produce the original contracts made, and they were nowhere to be found. After a long and exhaustive search through nearly all the notarial archives in Madrid, they were found at last in the office of Mes: 1 Bernaven and Sandoval. But the notari flatly refused to surrender them or even to give an attested copy, as Brightsmith’s name did not appear in the contracts. He then appealed to the British chancery for protection, and was told by a pert attache that our minister would not interfere with the course of Spanish law. Next he tried to gel an injuncticn against the persons unknown who were wrongfully working La Escondida. But he could not name them, and was again dented. With all this, he was perpetually worried to fulfill small formalities, vexed with incessant delays and almost childish difficulties, so that at last he was all but driven mad. 1 watched him, quietly amased, for a fortnight nearly, going my own road, which was not his, following my own de- vices, which interested me and kept me fully employed, knowing all the time that he would come to me some day on his knees seeking help and sympathy. When he did I was ready for him. . “This is the most exasperating country, he cried. “I seem to make no progress at all. What are you laughing at?” “I laugh when I think what would have become of you if I had gone home w you suggested it.” 9 Why, what sort cf use have you been? “Comé up to my room, Harry; I'll show ycu something. I keep it under lock and key.” “inere,” I said, five minutes later, as I threw him a heavy bundle of papers, “those are the contracts. How's tha‘, um- ir Pie looked at me open mouthed, with his little round eyes protruding. “Want more?” I went on. “Read this.” I put a printed document into his hand; it purported to be the draft prospectus in Spanish of the “Compania Anonyma de la Mina Bien Escondida,” which was shortly to be floated in Madrid and Paris with a capital of 10,000,000 ron, or £200,000, and which was to work the very property that Herry Brightsmith scught to save for his clients. “They have gone over your head, Harry. This is Raskelf’s doing; he is here in Mad- rid, and I have had ‘several talks with him. He has jockeyed you completely. You are too late, my friend, and will lose every stiver unless—"” “It is the rankest robbery,” he cried, ig- noring my proviso. “The vilest swindle. In England it would mean the Mansion House.” “This is Spain, my dear sir, and you haven’t a leg to stand on. But you may save something—a good deal—on one ccndition. Indeed, I have already agre2d to it on your account. Wait and hear what I have to tell you.” This was my explanation: It chanced that soon after our arrival in Madrid, when my friend was being en- tangled in the meshes cf Spanish law, and I found myself much alone, I was lounging one day in the Puerta del Sol. This “sun- is the general rendezvous for all loafers at high no who come here like lizards to bask and lay in caloric. It crowded now, but not so densely that I ¢ e and instantly recognize a face I knew. The last time T the Llanura de ad met with it was in erras. Its owner then was dressed sasant in brown cloth and polainas (gaiters); now he wore a long Spanish cloak and a tall hat. But it was the capataz, the overseer or head man of the mule train; of that I had no doubt. My memory for faces was strong and gen- erally unfailing. He was not alone. The man who walked by his side was short, squat, coarsely built, hed-haired — unmistakably English. He wore a rough suit of “dittoes,” stained and frayed, and he had the air of being much out at the elbows, while his slouch- ing, uncertain gait spoke plainly of drink I had not forgotten Raskelf, tae abscond- ing engineer, from whom the Llanura prop- erty had been first obtained. Could this be he? It was a wild shot of mine, but not impossible. In any case, the first man, the capataz, interested me sufficiently to make me follow him. Surely something import- ant had brought him all the way from An- dalusia to Madrid. A walk of half an hour from the Puerta del Sol down the Calle Alcala and on brought me to the gates of an ancient and rather dilapidated house, which I afterward “Mr. Raskelf, I Believe—” learned was the Casa Almendral, the family mansion in the corte, or capital, of the marquis of that name. When the men parted at the door I no- ticed that the Spaniard touched his hat with a very off-hand gesture of farewell. I heard him say “Hasta la vista” (Till next time), and then the Englishman turned, re- tracing his steps toward the Calle Alcala. I had already resolved how to act, and, stepping out briskly, I soon overtook him. “Mr. Raskelf, I believe?” was my greet- ing, spoken with so much assurance that he stopped and stared. Surprise and sus- picion struggled in his face, and he hesi- tated to respond. “Surely we met in Mysore—in the gold fields?’ I went on glibly. “I cannot be mis- taken.” “It must have been my brothe he sald, with obvious reite?, while I'blessed my stars my stratagem had succeeded. “That must be my apology, then: Pray forgive my stupidity. But—we are going the same way, I thimnk—may I walk with you? I am almost a stranger in Madrid. My name is Innes.” And I handed him my card. Half an hour later we were seated at the same table in the Cafe Europeo, convers- ing as though we had been friends for years. I soon found that he was in very low water. The glassy eye and slavering lip told of troubles quenched in stimulants which now he could but ill afford, and for which he was constantly athirst. After the third brandy and soda he began to talk quite freely, following my lead. I asked if there was business doing in his line. I had heard that Spain was rich in minera! “There's a fortune—a vast fortune—to be made, sir, if you're on the inside track and can work the oracle. All you want is cap- ital and enterprise,” he said angrily. “Well, there’s capital enough lying idle.” I know, sir, I know, and I could place it in things that would go like smoke if—if—” He checked himself abruptly, and I guess- ed that he was consumed with regret that the London market was closed to him. “Ah, yes, London! It is very different in this beggarly country, where you can’t get coins together to boil a teapot, let alone work a mine. Why, major—’ with drink- He leaned over and whispered im ted breath right into my ear: “I have a worth millions in the hollow of my to any one-who will down a few paltry thousands. But I cannot squeeze out a maravedi here from the man it would benefit most.” BA et 6 that, and a pauper boot. proud as Lucifer of his title, his AS ruined castle, his rocks and stones, which are worth nothing now, but which I can turn into siMer¥and gold. He has a mine that will pay 100, 200, 500 per gent. It pays even now+f you scratch the ground with a toothpick. Put up proper ma- chinery, steam powet; a line of rails, the man would be an arch-millionaire.””. He wa8, of course, speaking of the Mar- quis de Almendral, But I gave no sign that I knew it, and we soon parted, he a couple of gold Isabels the richer, and I thought it no high price’ forthe information re- ceived. paee Next day I made inquiries about the marquis, and, much to my surprise, heard nothing to his discredit. Although greatly impogerished, he’stil! held his head high, as hidalgo, a grandee, whom no one would accuse of direct complicity in a nefarious fraud. I made up m¥ mind, therefore, to ap- proach him, to put the whole case plain- ly befcre him, seeking whatever explana- tion he might offer of the breach of the McKillop contract, and the dishonest work- ing of the mine. He received me tesy that sits so with the stately cour- well upon men of his stamp. I found an old man, spare of frame, still erect, and with keen black eyes un- der bushy black eyebrows, in sharp con- trast with his snow white hai His first remark was one of indignant protest. “Believe me, sencr mio, I know nothing of this—the true state of the case was kept from me. I was assured that the con- tracts had elapsed with the death of Sir McKillop, and that F was free to make new. I was on the point of doing so. But nada. It is nothing. Fair dealing first, Purficnor y caballerosidad. They are the rule with Spanish gentlemen.” All difficulties scon vanished when I was met in such a spirit. The marquis himself secured me the contracts, and declared that he wished to abide by them. He it was who gave me Raskelf’s prospectus for the new company, a scheme that had orig!- nated in that fertile but unscrupulous brain. It was Raskelf all through who had checked and countered Black and Bright- smith at ‘every point, who had made an im- proper use of the influence the marquis still wielded in high places, and interposed the delays that retarded Brightsmith’s progress. I was glad to know when, some months later, the “Bien Escondida” was floated London under the most respectable condi- tions, that a certain number of founders and preferencé shares were allotted to the Marquis de Almendral, who thus benefited far more substantially than he could have done with Raskelf. . That villain soon afterward drank him- self to death; and I returned to England, encouraged by Harry Brightsmith to hop for more work of a similar kind. It came in abundance, far efield perhaps, but al- ways interesting, as I hope to show. SAVED TWENTY- INE LIVES. A New York Policeman Promoted for Signal Gallantry. ‘Theodore Roosevelt in the Century. Among the first promotions we made were two which illustrated the attitude of the board toward cases of this kind, and which also incidentally illustrated exactly what we mean by “taking the force out of politics’—that is, by administering it en principles of decency, and appointing and promoting men cn their merits, with- out regard to their political backing. The first case was that of an old fellow, a vet- eran of the civil war, who was at the time a roundsman. J happened to notice one day that he had saved a woman from ng, and had him summoned so that sht look into the matter. The oid fel- low brought up his record before me, and showed not a little nervousness and agita- tion; for it appcared that he had grow: gray in the service, had performed fi after feat of heroism, but had no po backing of any account. He w Army man, but net one of th type, and so had nol received any atten- tion from the former police boards; and now, at last, he thought there was a chance for him. He had been twenty-two years on the force, and during that time had saved some twenty-five persons from death by Gro} ing, varying the performance once or tw by saving persons from burning buildings. ‘Twice Congress had passed laws especially to power the then Secretary of the Treasury, John Sherman, to give him meda! for distinguished gallantry in savi life. The Life Saving Society had also given him its medal, and so had the police department. On examining into his record carefully, we found that it was wholly free from complaints of any infraction of duty, and that he was sober and trustworth We felt that he was entitled to his promo- tion, and he got it. We did not know his politics, nor did we care about them. It is very unlikely that the woman whom he last saved, as he swam out toward her, felt any special Interest as to whether he had voted for Cleveland or Harrison; nor did we. He had risked his life freely again and again in the performance of his duty; he had conducted hirnself so as to be a credit to the department, and a credit to the city; and we felt that he was entitled to his re- ward. It is worth while mentioning that he kept on saving life after he was promoted to a sergeantcy. On October 21, 1896, ne again saved a man frem drowning. It was at night, nobody else was in the neighbor- hood, and the sip from which he jumped was in absolute darkness, and he was about ten minutes in the water, which was very cold. The captain of the precinct, in re- porting the cas2, said: “The sergeant was off the bulkhead and into the water after his man quicker than it takes to say ‘Jack Robinson.’”” There was no way in which the board could reward him for this, ¢x- cept by telling him that he was an honor to the department; for he had been given all the medals, and bars to the medals, that he could be given. It was the twenty- ninth person he had saved during iis twen- ty-three years’ service in the department, and he was fifty-fite years old when he saved him. a A NEW TYPE OF STREET CAR. Many New and Desirable Features of Convenience and Comfort. From the Springfe!d Republican. The new car for use on the green line to Chicopee, which the Wason Manufactur- ing Company is making for the street rail- way company, is nearly done, and wil! probably be finished the 20th, when it w‘Il be turned over to the street railway, who will fit it out with its electrical equipment. The car represents about the latest and Lest ideas in the construction for purposes of street transportation. It departs from older styles in two important points, in its length, and in the deep windows, which if opened. will make the car a very pleasant means of summer travel. The bedy is thirty feet long, and each vestibule is five feet in addition, making a total length of forty feet. The body is five feet longer than that of the last green cars which were built by the company for the Chicopee line, and the vestibules are each one foct longer. The doors are at one side of the vestibule, instead of at the center, as is generally the case, and these doors are thirty-six inches wide, instead of twenty-two inches, @ more crdinary width. The seats are of the reversible type..:‘There are on each side eight seats funning from side to side, each to seat two, le. At the ends are shorter seats ryaning lengthwise of the car, two of these seats to accommodate three people each, ahd two to accomodate two each. There ane.two seats in each vestibule, made at aigts like those of an open car. Thus’the ‘t0tal seating capacity of the car will be forty-six. ‘The car will give a better accommodation for smokers with its bigger vestibules with seats. The seat inside will be covered with crimson pliish."The interior of the car will be handsomely finished. The ceil- ing will be decorated,a dark“ brown on a handsome selection Df white birch. The windows are eight inehes deeper than was the case on the*hew green cars above re- ferred to. This will make them very light and airy in su er. Che ceiling will have five panels, in ie middle one will be a group of five electric lights, in the two next groups of three, and in the end panels groups of two. Each lamp is sixteen can- dle power, and thus the lighting capacity of the car will be 240 candle power. The @xterior will be painted, the lower part green and the posts and the upper part old ivory, a shade of aaa and there will be gold decorations. re will be no let- tering, and the destination will be indica’ by. signs. The car will be numbered There will be four thirty horse power mo- tors, which will give’ twenty more horse power than the new green cars seferred to above. There will be-hand and air brakes, and the car wil be heated by —“AS THE CROWD PASSES HE BEGINS HIS SONG.” A RAGPICKERS’ FETE Curious Sights in One of the Suburbs of Paris, MAINTAIN THEIR OWN CORPORATION This Year They Elected a King and a Queen, AND HAD A GREAT TIME ———— Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. PARIS, September 30, 1897. HERE IS A SUB- urb of Paris where éourists never set their feet, where the American __ resident finds himself lost and in a country he has never dreamed of when inside the city walls. It is the rag- pickers’ city, a part of Saint-Ouen, with its thousands of workmen and its so- cialist municipality. From midnight to moming you may see the ragpickers fishing in the refuse boxes which Parisian servants deposit for them in front of the houses. They are men and women and children, with carts and don- Ss. ke; They deftly do the first sorting oa the spot, putting -off shoes and corsets and clothes of every kind together, separ- ating bottles from worn-out knives and forks, putting paper into sacks, and leav. ing the little they cannot use for the morn- ing scavenger. An hour after the yawning concierges have opened their front doors, at 6 o'clock sharp, as the law provides, the j grand reunion, ragpickers have disappeared from the streets, which are not for such as they in the daylight of the luxurious city. Slowly they make their way back to these waste lands of Saint-Ouen, to which, with the city’s growth, they have been pushed relentlessly back. The contents of their ¢arts are dumped behind their doors, and inside the mean houses of every age and structure, the basket, lantern and hook— the signs of their profession—are put awa: while they complete the sorting of the treasures they have brought with them. Like all the “little trades” of this old- new city, they form a corporation recog- nized by the state, with their own tradi- tions and social ranks, carefully observed in births and marriages and funerals. The hard times of late years have touched them also. They feel the need of uniting, and one of the rich merchants of this working- men’s quarter has paid the expenses of a procession, banquet and general celebraticn which should help them to become a real trades union. Parisians Missed the Sight. Invitations were sent out to ministers of state and journalists,and to tne notabilities of the suburb. The mayor agreed to head the procession and to preside at the dinner and ball which were to follow. The coun- cil of Saint-Ouen, with its socialist sympa- thies, was to be represented. Only a few journalists came, however, and hardly a handful of Parisian sightseers. The dense crowd that lined the march of the proces- sion among the lanes of the ragpickers’ city was made up of workmen, their wives and children. The laughter was none the less keen and sincere nor the sight less curious Waiting to Sell Their Wares. The Parisian who cares only to look on luxury misses a great part of the life that is at his very doors. It was with no small difficulty that artist and writer made their way to the scene of this unique parade. It was simple enough finding one’s way to the mayor's office of Saint-Ouen, which is but a step from the old chateau, in whose grounds take place many horse races, where Americans, as well as natives, are wont to lose their money. But even the po- liceman cquid not give clear ions to finding the ragpickers’ own city. In a general way, he knew it was off east and across the railroad. But one workman passed us on to another and we arrived at the entrance of the narrow lane where the procession was to start just in time. knocked noisily along the pavement. Young girls had a bit of ribbon over their rough common gowns, to show that even here, in the midst of poverty and rudeness, Parisian grace makes Itself felt. The crowd was good-natured to a degree, perhaps because there was no drunkenness or drinking, and because all were equals. For all it was evidently a great lark that the ragpickers should have a procession, with crowned queen and ball and grand ‘dinner between. Then it is the universal etiquette of a French crowd to keep one’s gemper on a holiday. The signal is given and the procession starts from the lane into the broad street. First cone two brass bands, both made up of young bvys—pale-faced, as the ill-fed King and Queen of the Rag Pickers. Paris workingman’s progeny is apt to be. but holding themselves well in the neat, cark blue uniform which has been pre vided for them. Sons of ragpickers are eli- gible witn the rest, and they toot the ele- mentary airs appreciated by their audience with great good will. Next, on foot, in the full dress of*such occasions—tall, shining silk hat, and closely buttoned frock coat, with the scarf of office across the breast— marches gravely the mayor of Saint Quen, followed by members of the city council. They are politicaliy wise in their genera- tion to throw in their lot with the working- men, to whom the future of France be- longs. Enter the King and Queen. Then comes the chief show, for which all necks are craned, while fathers hold up the children that they may see what no one ever saw before. In their own donkey cart sit the couple that have been chosen by vote king and qucen of the ragpickers. The man drives his steed with a simple dignity. He is gray-haired and bearded, and has put on a black hat and coat, over which he Wears the tricolor ribbon of the republic. His wife is a comfortable-looking body, rather shamefaced at being the center of so many eyes. She has put in a bonnet, rescued perhaps from the cast-off attire of some Parisian dame, three monster roses. Where the sacks of paper usually rest in the cart are huddled the children of the worthy pair. Every one cheers the mayor, but the enthusiasm knows no bounds as the king and queen pass. The good woman bows—Queen Victoria could not do better. ‘Three other carts follow, each with its poor attempts at decoration. One is really artistic. The spokes of the wheels are en- twined with the ferns that grow in these fields, and great red and blue asters are placed at the hub and around the rim. The donkey has been adorned with green leaves and gay ribbons. The weather-beaten wo- man riding in the cart laughs hysterically, with wide-open jaws, perhaps to hide her mingled pride and confusion. The Ragpickerw Market. ‘When the procession has passed we turn cur attention to the curious market held every Sunday along the curb of the ave- nve, just oppesite the ragpickers’ city. It is made up of all and sundry objects res- cued from sacks and carts, so far as they can be made presentable for the wants cf the poorest of the poor. The objects, in the most miscellaneous promiscuousness, are deposited flat on the pave; but even here the innate sense of proportion, which mekes the French pork butcher range his show window like an impressiorist painting, manifests itself. The sellers, resting in this old world way from their night's fatigue, sit aiong the curbstone waiting for some of the passers- by to price their wares. A woman with a gray handkerchief twisted around her hair, with a gray cot- ton dress showing her wooden shoes, sits with patient philosophy. The man who sits next is even fat and pursc-lipped in the il! nature with which he watches the artist. On the ground are pairs of shces of all sizes, rescued from the refuse tubs, where even the servants had thrown them, but good enough for feet that might else go bare. Some of Its Treasures. There ure odd pieces of glassware, a whole henging lamp, which will almost turn some workingman’s room into a fes- tive hall; odd knives and forks; always and everywhere that peculiarly Parisian article, corsets, with bits of tawdry and faced frippery. There are shirts which these people can still wear; stockings that admit of further darning; petticoats which may have already descended from older to younger sisters. These articles have all been folded and arranged, but, it ts to be feared, neither washed nor disinfect=d— though the health of Paris tells favorably for the cleanliness of its poor. Two little boys—for the whole p'ace is swarming with children—ccnsent to pose. They are neatly tended for the Sunday's fesst, and have the good manners of thel. race. Over and over one makes the remar! that the French working population is full of good qualities, which is a comfort for the future when they are likely to mul- tiply themselves into the majority of the French people. Before we leave the mar- ket, which is allowed to extend itself to one side of the road some fifty feet, and not an inch further, we notice cast-off en- gravings, with broken frames, and even faded paintings, which some workman will buy to give him the Sllusion of fine art in his dwellirg. At the End of the Day. We catch up with the procession over by the mayor's office, where proper speeches are made to the ragpickers—the heroes of the occasion. It is at the mairie that they are married, and have the births of their children Geclared, and their own deaths re- coming, and the merchant who stands the expense of the feast dves not contradict. A beginning of it is over in the tents, where dinner is shortly to be served. We 1 furest care for sour excellent preparation sold by nome of Stuart's Dyspepsia Tati These lets are large 20-grain lozenges, 2 taste and contain the natural acids, ements emsenth oud ¢ When taken after meals t mst the oe fectly and promptly be it has c ment, sour and poison the blood and nervous xy tem. Dr. Wuerth states that he invariably Stuart's Dyspepsia Tablets in all casex of stomach derangements and finds them a certain cure, not only for sour stomach, but by promptly digesting DANGER IN SODA. Serious Resul Sometimes Follow I Excessive Use. Common sodf is all right In its place and tndts- persable in the kitchen and for cooking and wi ing purposes, but it was never intended for a medicine, and people who use it as such will some @ay regret it. We refer to the common use of soda to relieve heartburn cr sour stomach, a Lalit which thou- f people practice and is fraught with sands one danger. gives temporary n ree. soda acts. nical irritant ‘The walls of the to the x Ix, and cases on record wh Gwsing death by inf 2 recommen druggists to very 1 be nit yrones and and eth nees the food they create a healthy appetite, increase flesh and strengthen the action of the heart and liver. They are not a cathartic, tut intended only for stomach diseases found reliable tn any stomach troutie except cancer of the stomach. All druggists sell Stuart's Dys- Pepsia Tublets at 50c. per package. A little book describing all forms of stomach ‘weakness and their cure mailed free by addressing the Stuart Co. of Marshall, Mich. weakness and will be OGY 2b manners We cannot wait for the ball which is to follow the dinner, where the stout mayor is to dance with the motherly queen. All will pas: trouble does not exist, rs are as well as good, and the French rag will prove that he knows how to Ii STEREING HE: —— + The Professor From the Philad: Curious verific given not off 1, for the Grink ind to Wed at Once. long aso to the tradition that no mai allowed to become a member of the Vassar faculty unless he be married. If an unmarried man make application for membership, the rule is to first inquire if he be marred. The proverbial exception to this rule oc- curred in the ca: young sought to fill the V che not long ago, and was so cept every Way that his examiners forgo qu n who r of history ble in ¢ into the most impor S state of double or single Not until the day for open was at hand did any how shockingly they had things which they ought to young man, confess that by that time he was a two weeks,” they ju to resign your you know of some girl you you wit place. Surely can zet in two weeks.” whol ii, 50 hi led ‘off th ptible stu- pro- upon hu ny of the su fonal future hims before aught ht’ of him, promising to return within a fortnight married was as good d word, though he had a pretty hard time fulfilling the contract to the letter. a Sob The Use of the Great Toe. From the Overland Monthly for Augi The negroes of the West Indics use the great toe constantly in climbing. yeers ago, while spending some time a of the famous resorts in Jamaica, I had an opportunity to observe the skill with which the black women, who do a great part of the menial labor, carried stone, mcrtar and other building materials on their heads to the top of a five-story tower, in a part of the hotel not then finished. Much of the unerring accuracy with which they (women and girls) chased each other up and down the long ladders, with heavy loads skillfully poised on their woolly pates, was due to the firmness with which they grasped each rung of the ladders with the great toe. They did not place the ball or the hollow of the foot on the rung, but the groove at the juncture of the great toe with the body of the foot, and they held fest by making the back of the other toes afford the other gripping surface. In much the same way the Abyssinian nat alry grasp the stirrup. And I have se a one-armed Santo Domingan stride the near ox in a wheel yoke, guiding a lead mule with a rein held between his great and second toes, while his only was devoted to cracking his teams| whip. rm = Saved Money in Hard Times. From Fiber and Fabric. A young man who went to Boston last falt succeeded in getting work at $12 day. He had no money and doubted his ability to live on such wages. He found a lunch room in Washington street where twenty- two meal tickets were sold for §1, or at the rate of 41% cents a meal. He obtained a room for {1 a week. As a result of his steady labor and persistent economy from Q@ctober 1 to March 20 he had been able to buy two suits of clothes and put $75 in the savings bank. He now has $125 in the bank, and hopes by next spring to have cash enough to start a little business of his own. This is the kind of material out of which America’s successful business men are made. he Next to suffering religious martyrdom a woman's sweetest privilege is to believe that she has been the guiltless object of some man’s hopeless love.—Puck. All Grocers Sell Tt. Cleans Everything. Made only by THE ¥. K. FAIRBANK COMPANY, Chicago. = StLouls. ~~ New York, Boston. Philadelphia,