Evening Star Newspaper, November 13, 1897, Page 19

rece THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, Ess ae ak NO ER 13, 1897—24 a _ oS A TROOP OF OSTRICAES ——_ SCENES ON A CALIFORNIA OSTRICH FARM. OSTRICH FARMING A Profitable Industry of Southern California. HOW THE BIRDS ARE CARED FOR Furnish a New Crop of Feathers Every Nine Months. THEIR CURIOUS HABITS Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. PASADENA, Cal., November 5, 1897. HEY WERE SUB- I jecting the head ostrich to a great in- dignity. Four men had grabbed him by the neck, pulled a sack over his head and rushed him in- to the peaked end of a wedge-shaped cor- ral, where they were stripping him of his = * plumage. +f it happened to be a SA Se plucking day on the uth Pasadena ostrich farm, and one of 2 largest and most valuable of the birds was “in the hands of his friends.” You need not waste pity on the plucked ostrich. He was made to be plucked, as the sheep was made to be shorn. The only thing about it is the keen sense of hur perience during the after he has gone ough it several times he makes no more ct plucked than a cow does to befag milked. “At first, though, we have a struggle with them,” says the ostrich farmer. he ostrich never wholly loses his wild nature, and we have chased a bird all day without gettig him into ihe corral. No man can nd up and fight an ostrich face to fac vehind aim and throw som his face before you can hold , You you have ever seen ich put on full speed, is more easily said than done. ‘To ‘run like a deer’ is sup- posed to be the superlative of celerity, but a deer is not in the race with those serawny, scaly legs, nor are the horns of an angry buck so dangerous as the toe- nails of an excited ostrich.” Afraid of a Small Dog. Perhaps you have seen a rooster fight. An ostrich goes at it in much the same way, but his dynamo has a capacity of 1,000 rocster power. His blow fs a sort of combination of a Fitzsimmons hook and a mule’s kick. He thrusts out his leg with a velocity that one can’t dodge, and with a that breaks a man’s ribs without half but he always thrusts it to the ; behind him you are safe, for his kick is not reversible. nd he is nothing if not a high kicker. view lands three or four feet from the nd, znd he can’t hit under that. The African ostrich hunters, when pursued by a maddened bird, simply He down and let him cool off and reflect on the impotence of You must get thi r animal nature compared with the ingenuity of man. California breeders drive and dis- cipline their stock with the aid of small degs. An ostrich will walk up to a man or an elephant cr a street sprinkler and show fight, but he runs from a little dog. His back may be up in high C. but the ostrich can’t bit that. It is amusing to see a giant bird, 9 feet high, flee‘ng in fright from a bit of rat terrier. There are many patches on the fences around the ostrich corrals, and when one of the great birds feels kinky and has nothing ‘better to do, he lets go at the fence and one blow snaps a six-inch rail as if it were a lath, A man who was whitewashing the fences last week took certain liberties with an ostrich named “Corbett,” and he is now nursing three broken ribs. The male birds frequently quarrel, sometimes fatally, and when one hits another it sounds like a whack on a brass drum. If the fight is aiscovered in time, the dogs are sent in to separate the combatants. How an Ostrich is Plucked. But let us see what the pluckers are doing to our interesting friend of magnifi- cent plumes. Wedged into that narrow cage, he can’t hurt us if he is disposed to, but like the operators, we take pains to stand behind him. A man with a short, heavy pair of shears is cutting the long black and white feathers from the bird’s wings. The quills cut crisply. “They are ripe and there is not a bit of blood or sen- sitiver ess in them,” says the manager. “If we did not wait till they were ripe before clipping them, the feathers would not grow again and the bird would be worthless.” A stump four inches long is left by the shears. Two montks later this will be pulled out to make room for the new feather, which will be ripe for the har- vester in about nine months. The breed- ers get two crops in a year and a haif. After the shears have dore their work, the tail feathers are pulled and the smaller feathers are plucked from the outside of the wings. The body feathers are never taken—contrary to the popular conception, which umes that the poor bird ts left stark. “When do you kill your ostriches? is a query often heard at the farm. By this time the sack has been removed from the neck of the bird, the gate at the apex ef his corral has been opened, and away he scoots, gobbling and flapping his wings. One clipping from a good lusty ostrich like this is worth $30, and every feather has a commercial value. There never yet has been an overproduction of ostrich tips, and they are in greater demand to- day by fashion than ever. Herce the o: trich is well kept and carefully watched. Every sixty days his quills are examined. He has frequent ablutions. If he is sick he has a doctor, who generally gives him the same kind of pill he had before—a bolus two inches long and an inch square in a linen case. They push it down his yard of throat, without any fuss on the estrich’s part, and soon the bird is well again. The veterinarian tells me that the dose for an ostrich is twice as large as for a horse. The ostrich has many amiable qualities and considerable human nature. It is no more than his due to say that he is a model husband. He may have his little imper- fections and idiosyncrasies, but as a hus- band he is above reproach. No bird pays so many polite attentions to his mate. Be- sides scratching out the hole in the ground which serves for her nest and assisting in the arrangement of the eggs, he takes turns with her in sitting on the eggs tiil they hatch, and the longer turns, at that. A Model Husband. The female, when she starts in, lays an egg every other day until she has pro- duced a dozen or fifteen, then stops and sits on them for forty-two days and nights, with her husband's help. It would be a pretty long siege without his aid. He sits from 5 pm. till 8 a.m. on schedule time, and without fail—“and he spells her some during the day, too,” says the man- ager. One appreciates this model husband the more upon seeing how tenderly he lowers his great body, weighing 250 pounds, on the nest of egs. But the manager re- marks that appearances are ever deceit- ful, and the model husband is not so ut- terly unselfish as he would seem. He chooses to do his sitting in the night, when he would be sitting on sand if not on eggs. The marriage customs of the ostrich farm are similar to those of some foreign lands, but unlike those of the American people. A husband is selected for the fe- male ostrich without consulting either of the parties, and without any ado they Straightway learn to love each other and live happily ever after. Divorce is un- known here and estrangements are un- heard of. “The husbands are just jealous enough,” the manager declares. A visitor notices that there is a double line of fence and an alley six feet wide between the breeding pairs. One ostrich egg would make a good meal for a family of six or seven people. It would make an omelette equal to two dozen hen’s eggs, and as for flavor, you wouldn’t know the difference. On the whole, os- triches lead a rather indolent life, as their family cares are brief, the chicks being taken away from them as soon as they are born. His First Meal. The baby birds, little brown, fluffy things of about the size of full-grown puilets, ap- Peal to one’s sentiment and affection—not for very long, however, as in three months they have grown to be tall, ugly and quarrelsome. The chick signalizes his ar- rival in the world by telephone, says our friend, ‘the ‘manager. The mother hears her child tapping*on the inside of the shell and breaks the egg by pressing on it with her breastbone. Contrary to mother na- ture, she makes no disturbance when the offspring are removed to the warm quar- ters, which the farmer has provided, and bundled up in alfalfa. For two days the ostrich chick can't be tempted to eat any- thing, and then he suddenly develops an appetite for gravel. His infant palate rel- ishes nothing but little stones of the size of marrowfat peas and bits of ground bone, and it is a week or two before the child be. gins to peck at the delicious alfalfa or Cal. ifornia clover that is spread around him. Yes, it is a singular taste for a baby, but this bird has singular tastes all through life. By the way, an ostrich’s span is like that of mankind, three Score and ten years. The infants, which had just emerged from the shell three months ago, can now stretch up three feet. For six months they grow at the rate of a foot a month, if they enjoy health and good luck. i saw only one stunted bird in the tlock, or troop,” as the farmers say. “He never seemed to thrive very well, anyhow, but he fooled with a hay cutter last fall and got a fearful clip in the head, which ‘set him back worse than ever,” says the - ager. = ae As an Investment. Anybody who chooses to buy one can keep an ostrich. With ordinary care,.such as one would give a horse or a cow, they will thrive in almost any climate this side of Alaska. Their keep is not expeusive. Their daily bread consists of beets and grass and corn, with a little more corn in cold weather. There are 400 or 50) osiriches in different parts of California, but they have prospered better in Pasadena than anywhere else. The feather industry is fairly on its feet here, and will be profit- able. One can buy an ordinary full-grown ostrich, suitable for circus purposes, for $100, but a good pair of breeders is Worth $500, The male is the more valuable, for he wears the better clothes. An attempt to train ostriches to trot in harness was made a short time ago, but met wi:h in- different success. The bird dees not take kindly to training of any sort. He seems to have only one aim in life, and that is to grow feathers with which other bipeds may adorn themselves. IN HIS RYE FIELD. jan Plows Up Some Interest- img Prebistoric Relics. From the Atlanta Constitution. While plowing in rye in his field on the Savannah river, near Herschman, in Sereven county, Mr. Edward Hughes brought to light some very interesting relics. His plow struck against something hard, and upon investigating he discovered two oid Indian pois, or urns, just below the surface of the ground. One was in an up- right position and the other was turned over it, as a cover. Within were a lot of small pieces of bone, and the pots had evidently been used as a funeral urn to hold the ashes of some brave. The finding ef the bones within a pot is rather an un- occurrence, as it is not known that Indians ever cremated their dead. bly they are the remains of an in- + but the pieces are so small it is hard to tell. The vessels are of the usual Indian make, of red earthenware, and measure ebout twelve inches In diameter across thelr mouth. One was broken, but the otker ct. They are now, with their feneral contents, in the possession of Colo- nel R. Lee Moore of Statesboro, Ga., who was at Mr. Hughes’ home at the time, and to whom he gave them. That section of Screven county for several miles along the banks of the Savannah river seems to have been a favorite stamping ground of the Crecks, who lived and hunted there More than a century ago. Numbers of Teiics, in the way of pots, tomahawks, and Zoortars for pounding corn, have been found there at various times, and there is en old Indian burial mound somewhere in that locality, just on the borders of the warp. It has been suggested that pos- eibly these last unusual relics which My. Hughes plowed up in his field contain the dust of some cld Spanish cavalier who, when it fs remembered that the Spanish invaders, bearing the sword and the cross, tnust have marched several times up and down the banks of the Savannah, and that an old piece of armor, which undoubtedly dates back to those days of wild adven- ture, was dug up a few years ago in Scre- ver county near the same spot where the benes were discovered. At all events, the pots an* bones are a reality, and there is much room for speculation. eee A CHARGE AND A RETREAT. One Experience of a Surgeon in the Turkish Army. From’ “Under B Ryoe the Red Crescent,” by Dr. Charles Old Mustapha Bey waved his sword and sang out to me to come along with them: so I forgot that I was a simple medical officer. I drove the spurs into my horse, and in half a minute I was riding along- side Czetwertinski in a wild charge against the flying Russians. * * * There was a large field of ripe maize on our right as we went down the hill,~and I could see the Russians running through it as hard as their legs could carry them, believing, of course, that a strong body of cavairy was swooping down to cut off their retreat. © * * In a moment more the Russians sud- denly faced around, and, recognizing that they were attacked by a mere handful of men, took up a formation and poured their fire into us in earnest. Hassan Pa- sha, who was watching the whole thing, foresaw that our retreat was likely to be cut off, and he sounded the retreat. We wheeled our horses just in time, drove the spurs in and galloped back for our lives. two centuries ago, fell in.the forests of | forward fugitives, I felt as Georgia, a victim of the malaria of the| brave as a lion; but when once f had turned river or may be an Indian arrow; and that, my back to them and heard their bullets dying, far away from home loved ones, ) whistling round me, a mortal dread came, bis body was cremated by his comrades over me, and if I had had a hundred mil- end his dust in these rude urns. | lions in the bank I would have given it all does not seem so altogether fanciful, to be @ furlong further from the muszsies of those Russian rifles. It was every man for himself, of course, and we did not! at- tempt to preserve any sort of formation. The instict of a hunted animal flying for cover made me turn toward the maize field, ard I galloved into the friendly shelter of the tall stems, bending my head low over my horse's neck and urging him forward with voice and spur. The maize was tall enough to conceal a horse and man com- pletely, so that the Russians could not take aim at any individual mark, but they poured incessant volleys into the field, and many a bullet fired at random found its billet. As these hundreds of bullets cut off the maize stalks in all directions around me, I must corfess that my previous reck- lessness had given place to a ghastly, over- mastering terror. Wherever I turned dan- ger was lying by my side, and I could only press: blindly forward and hope for the best. A trooper close by me suddenly threw up bis arms and seemed to spring several feet up from the saddle before he fell with & thud among the blood-soaked maize stalks. It occurred to me then that he must have been shot through the heart. ———_+ e+ ____ A Fortanate Misfortune. Harper's Bazar. From Peddlers Who Go About Town Bing- ing Doof, Belfs, ee aR te WITH ALL SORTS OF: THINGS 10 SELL < ts t Some of Them Will Not Take No for an Answer. THERE’S NO LAW AGAINST IT HE BELL RINGERS of Washington” would be a queer title for a book on ‘Washington life. It would be a title diffi- cult of comprehen- -sion by the poputa- tion, and a good many copies would Probably be sold to Persons curious to find out if any such quaint people really had their existence here. The bell ringers of Washington are not quaint. They are not Woolen-stockinged Nuremburgers, with jaunty feathers in their caps. They do not yodel between bell rings. They are common, daily, in- sistent and insuppressible nuisances. They are door bell ringers. Of all American cfties, Chicago and San Francisco are the only two that have col- jared the door bell ringer with a law. The householders of these two cities (those ef them who have felt the weight and the op- Pression of the door bell ringer’s pitiless .hand) are permitted to prominently display at their basement doors, or, for the matter of that, at their main doors, a sign reading: “Peddiers, canvassers, hucksters and beg- gars are cautioned to ring no door bell at- tached to this residence.” If any one of the classes included in this plain notice dis- regards the warning, the householder has only to have the offender run in by the nearest policeman—always supposing there is a ‘nearest policeman,” which ts never such a dead certain. quantity, after all. This ordinance of Chicago and San Fran- cisco has proven a good thing as a pro- tective measure. It has filled the jails of heither municipality to overfiowing. At first, any number of arrests were made of Goor bell ringers by profession, who fell into the, error of logking upon the new or- dinance simply in the light of a little mu- nicipal fad... But when they discovered that of the men,’.and even women, door hell ringers thus hauled up, those who could not pay their fines were ‘‘sent down’ by Police court judges who had probably sut- fered in their own domestic lives through the annoyance of the door bell ringers, they began to regard the neat signs tacked to the doors or fhe walls adjoining the doors with a great déal of wholesome re- ea spect. The result has been that at the present time, when the houscholder of Chi- cago or San Francisco is aching to pur- chase a “Life of the Late Archbi Canterbury,” in nine volumes, esque Tukestan,” in 118 volumes, or a pa ent egg-beater, or a bunch of carrots—the householder is pri ally permitted by the ex-door beil ringers of the two cities to use his own discretion as to time and place for making the purchase. No Law Against It. The law framers for the District of Co- lumbia would no doubt receive a si ade of thanks from a great many thousands of the afflicted in Washington if they wouid make the pecple of Washington a Christ- mas present of such an ordinance. The door-bell-ringing nuisance in this town has grown to be almost intolerable, for no bet- ter or no worse a reason than that ihere is aksolutely no law on the District police ordinance scroll prohibiting the door bell ringers‘ exercise of whatever mild or sov- ereign impudence they choose to exhibit. This question was put to a well-known po- lice official a few days ago by a Star man: “Has any shabby outcast, offering to pur- vey a grimy bit of unstickable sticking picter, or any persistent and unshakabie emale desiring to sell a System of Russian Thoroughly Taught in Three Weeks, the right to walk up the steps leading to the main door of a Washingtonian's residence, ting the Washingtonian’s door bell and de- mand of the servant answering the ring that the master or mistress of the house be immediately hauled into the hall, whether breakfast, luncheon or dinner is being served or not?” “Yes,” was the police official's reply. “Unreservedly, yes. There is absolutely no law here prohibiting just the sort of thing you describe. Such a law has been sug- gested hundreds of times; but the house- holders of Washington are a pretty con- servative people as a whole, and it is con- fessedly hard to get them together for the purpose of registering a hard kick, atcom- panied by a demand, on a question o7 this sort. The ‘edge’ which the door bell ringer has upon his victim here in Washington is that he must make two escalades of the same residence, and be warned the first time, before there is any show whatever of his being punished. For instance: The book agent visits a house and is told by the master or mistréss thereof that his Piece of literature is not only not wanted, but that even his presence’is not hankered for, and that he mate Oot ring that par- ticular door bell on affother occasion. Well, a few months later, by accident or design, the same book ane tugs at the same door bell. If the magter of the house re- members—a remote ‘enough contingency, you will perceive—the” tenance of this book agent, and also remembers thut he had warned him not to ‘bother him any more, and becomes ry With the recollec- tion, he can have the’man‘arrested. Then he is compelled to the Police Court, pa book agent has a charge of disorderly‘conduct against him. Small Chance of Redress. “Here, you will seg, is a jaw that is about as valuable as 4 critshed paper hat- box. I don’t recall that such a case as I have described ever antually occurred, and I have only instance it to illustrate how exceedingly small isythe-redress in law Peaple who, pester bis henselae aie tee wi er Beitus door bell oo “From the police point of view, there is another aspect to this matter that is more than worthy of attention. There is in Wash- ington, as well as in. MAKE LIFE:A BURDEN |: bage Be Me Be ee tee he dee ore hehehe eospespoege eer A in recent years, of the making of an ocdinanes perait the m: of an Inance, permitting it to be discretionary with householders to whether they choose to have their door- bells yanked by people who neither amuse, instruct nor entertain them, at all hours of the day, and occasionally even at night.” 4 the one package of sticking plaster. Every Washington householder knows him. He generally pulls the bell after dark, when the servant or servants are at work below setting things to rights after dinper, or have gone to their homes. His idea in choosing this period is to bring one of the members of the family to the door; for his game is a beggar’s dodge pure and simple, und his purpose is to arouse sympathy. Experience has taught him the lack of sympathy that animates servants. His best hold in the geme is to bring the mis- tress of the house to the door, and most often he is able to do this. When she does open the joor he doffs his greasy head- piece and executes a salaam thit is sup- posed to be peculiarly effective with the feminine heart—by him. Then, between the index and middle fingers of his right hand, ke holds forth his single package of what may be taken for granted as court plaste! “Lady,” says he, crowding into the ves bule in a somewhat alarming way, “ dime’s nottin’ to youse, but to me it means bote a meal an’ a bed. Dis is de ony ting I got--dis pack of court plaster—to keep me from starvin’—an’ it’s ony a dime—” In very many cases the lady of the house he is addressing has been taken in on some previous occasion by the self-same beggar; for it would seem that ‘the court plaster bell ringers have mapped out territory here, like the hand organ men, and work a route. In this case she gently closes the door, and the hobo shambles down the steps with some muttering. If he has not, however, made a previous visitation at that house, in nine cases cut of ten he gets his dime. When the master of the house answers the door bell for the court plaster hobo his par- ley is different. . 'y, boss,” says he, “I’m up agin it, an” "ud like to dispose of dis pack o’ plaster fur a dime—” When he gets to this point, with the man of the house confronting him, he is gener- ally told to “git,” and he gits with less muttering than he delivers himself of after he has made a failure with the mistress of the establishment. Rugs for Sale. The man with the rugs is another of the door bell men. He always rings the main bell, and scorns that which arouses the in- mates of the basement. Instances are not uncommon wherein the rug men decline to receive the assurance of the servant who answers the bell either that the mistress of the house is not at home, or that she does not elect to buy any rugs, and to manifest his disbelief in these statements, he nro- jects portions of his person, or of his rugs, within the portal to prevent the servant from closing the door. He is a singularty impudent sort of bell ringer. It is often necessary for the lady of the house to make her appearance at the head of the stairs or from the doorway of some lower room in order to convince the rug man that his wares are not wanted. The man with his patent lamp chimney ceaner is mailder in his manner, but, never- theless, like all of the bell ringers, his bo- sem is filled with a very great scorn and picion of servants. One of him was scen rating on an uptown street the other day. He waiked up the steps leading to the main door of a pretty, substan and rang the bell with the air of oung man who has called to see his best girl. The servant appeared. With the unerring eye of the Washington servant who is obliged to deal with so many door-to-door 1 house, fakirs, she sees examples of his lamp chim- neys sticking from his overcoat pockets, so that when he inquired for the mistress of the house she said; Very Insistent. “She all doan want none o’ dem—” “Now, my good girl,” said the lamp chimney man, “I didn’t inquire from you whether your mistress wanted anything or not, and I did not even inform you that I was selling anything—” “Kain’t Ah see yo all's confixins a-stickin’ out 0’ you’——” This confab was held while the girl stood with the door half open and the beil ringer rad his station in the vestibule. A win- dow was raised on the second floor. A determined feminine voice proceeded from the direction of the raised window. “You, man, what is it you wish, and why do you stand there wasting the time of—” The lamp chimney man stepped out to the step landing, and said: “Because, inadam, I have here an articje which should be in every household, and because I believe if I had an opportunity of showing it to you you would certain- ly” “Don’t want it!” “feel yourself in duty bound, in justice to the needs of your household——” 3 “Don't want it!” “—to have one. It is a truly marvelous invention of a‘lamp chimney cleaner, you see yourself, even from that distance, how simply and yet how thoroughly it works. You see—" “‘Wouldn’t have it in the house!” ‘you take your chimney that you de- sire to clean——” “Haven't a lamp chimney in the house! Burn gas!” - + “—but the student lamp——" aged his. great Scorriccars bell ringer great con in his overcoat and tackled house next door, to have a similar experi- ence. - ‘The Hucksters. ‘The hucksters have it all their own way with the. i Hy 7 F it’s Mush- Simply Mush. 'HE average publication for women is mush. The editor seems to think he must “write down” to hit woman’s intelligence—must be simple, silly, sappy, sickening. The Puritan doesn’t look at it in this way. While it is a class journal—a woman’s journal—it is nevertheless quite as dignified and on quite as high a plane as if it were distinctly a man’s journal. THE PurITAN does not seek the support of or appeal to the feeble minded. It is preéminently a journal for gentle- women—women who are absolutely men’s peers. trom the punsncr {0 Gls, FRANK A. MUNSEY, 111 Fifth Avenue, New York. REDDLEDDEL ILL ADELE S sarscriptin, $1.00 HK BEGGS LB BBB Be Be Be Re Be Be Be Behe Be Behe others are not, and it is, therefore, neces- sary to make the trip to the basement door in order to find out whether the bell ringer $ the grocer’s cr butcher's boy, or—taat which he is in nine cases out of ten, the huckster with many samples of his perish- able wares in his fists. The huckster is, however, in nowise persistent as a rule, and the extent of the infliction which he imposes upon the community consists in his incessant ringi:g of the community's door bells. The female canvasser for books is a bell ringer of experience and of incon- testible nerve. The beauty of her attitude after she has rung -the bell is that the servant who answers it is bound to be gracicus to her, for how is the servant to know that the well-dressed woman stand- ing at the door—and they are generally pretty well attired, these women book canvassers—is not an intimate friend of her mistress, just arrived from another city? The “bulge” on the situation of the woman book canvasser is, therefore, simply prodigious. Moreover, she is us- ually exceedingly sweet to the servant, and hands her a well-gotten-up card with all the grace in life. Will she kindly hand that to her mistress, by whom, she Le- lieves, she is expected?—for, In business, 18 not a little white one of this sort pardon- able? Just About the Worst. When the mistress of the house appears with her countenance illuminated with curiosity—for the card rarely reveals the business character of the female book canvasser’s errand—she is as often as not given what fs known a high nand-shake by her stranger visitor. “But, you know, you have thg advant- age?” says the mistress of the €stablisa- ment. ‘Oh, yes, va: s true enough,” usual reply. is the female “But in busi- ness one is cften compelled to unintreduced calls. Now, mistresses of mcst houses in ow the rest. It is a matter of difficuity to get the femule r out of the house without exerc of actual force. She is at once h: pleading, per- stasive, a s and finally insult- ing. And she is one of the most frequent bell ringers in the most bell-rung town, perhaps, in the United States. —_—--+e AND HIS DOOLEY NK ACCOUNT. Me Has Trouble ia Making His Checks Pass, From the Chicago Post. Mr. Dooley was bent over a little leather- covered book when Mr. Hennessy came in, and he was muttering to himself: livin j an’ six is thirteen, put three an’ carry wan: | cient an’ foor is twelve, plus wan is thir- teen; put down all iv it. Wan hundred an’ thirty-three. My-yah, ’tis har-rd wurruk r-runnin’ th’ finances iv a large business.” “What ar-re ye doin’?” said Mr. Hen- nessy. “I've opined a bank account,” said Mr. Dooley, with pride. “An’ I'm goin’ to close it tomorrah.” = “I had twinty dollars in a savings bank wanst,” said Mr. Hennessy, “‘an’ it bust up. Th’ thief that r-run th’ bank carried it over to Europe with him an’ spint it on wine, women an’ song. May th’ wine pizen him, th’ women bate him an’ th’ song break th’ drums iv his ear. If ye had a wife ye wudden't put ye'er money in a bank. Ye wudden’t be let. Th’ good wo- man keeps mine in a pocket that Spike Hinnissy cudden't find his way to. Any wan that robs me'll have to steal her, too— an’ he'll have none th’ best fy it.” “Ye'er speakin’ the thruth,” said Mr. Dooley. “I’ve always kept what litte change I had, I'll not tell ye where, Hin- nissy. I thrust ye, but ye might talk in ye'er sleep. "Twas Father Kelly put me up to takin’ it to th’ bank. He says, says he: ‘Th’ best thing that can happen to a man is to soak away th’ roly-boly. It makes him careful,’ he says, an’ him and me wint down to th’ Tinth Naytional Bank, where he has a frind. He took me up to a la-ad— an’ wan that didn’t look anny too square at that—an’ says he: is is me fri'nd, Misther Dooley,’ he says; ‘he’s anxious to make a deposit in ye’er bank.’ ‘Very well,” says th’ la-ad, with his nose in th’ air. ‘Write ye’er e down in this here book,’ he says. ‘What fr? says I. I've been mighty suspicious iv signin’ me name to annything since I signed a petition fr a rayform candydate fr aldherman whin I thought I was askin’ to l'ave a man out iv th’ pinitinchry. “We want to know ye'er signature,’ says he, ‘For why? says J. ‘Bien ye'er name,’ said Father Kell; all r-right.” signed me name an’ kid, ‘where's th’ money? Th’ money ye'er en § to deposit," he says. “An what's it to ye? says I. ‘I want it,’ says he. “Do ye?’ says I. ‘Well, if ye ye can get It come out an’ thry,” I says. ‘If me eyes don’t deceive me ‘tis says he. I set down an’ wrote out a check th’ way Father Kelly showed me, an’ toss- ed it to him. ‘What's this? says he. °A check,’ says I, ‘f'r five bucks on th’ Tinth Naytional Bank, where I keep me capital.’ “Look here,’ says he, ‘I didn’t fix no catch- basin and no beer pump for the Tinth Naytioi al Bank,’ he say ‘I done tt fr you, an’ I want yeer money.’ “My good sir,’ says I, ‘that check Is as g00d as money an’ even betther,’ I says. ‘Behind it,’ £ says, ‘is not only me own capital, but th’ intire capital, includin’ money lint on Ai- ley L stock, iv th’ Tinth Naytional Bank,’ Isays. I had th’ facts fr'm th’ good ma-an. “More thin that,” says I, ‘th’ whole gover- minteiv th’ United States is behind it,” 1 says. ‘Th’ ar-rmy an’ navy an’ th’ park polis will fight fr that check,’ I say “Me- Kinley was elected to make that check good,” I says. ‘I don’t care a-a cloth fr wipin’ jints,’ he says. ‘I voted fr Bryan an’ I want money, an’, bedad, I had to give it to him. “Well, sig, I thried that there check on five diffrent men an’ ne'er a wan iy thim wud take it. Th’ last wan was O'Connor th’ butcher “What ts it? check,” says I. ‘So it is,” he say is. An’ a very purty wan, too. ye get it?” ‘I made it,’ says L. says he. ‘Well, ye dhraw well. ye goin’ to do with it?” it again that bill ye sint me.” “What? says he. 1 told him again. ‘Faith,’ says he, ‘ye must think I'm crazy. I can buy @ pitcher tin times as big as that fr three dollars,’ he says. Well, sir, wud ye be- lieve it, they’ve had the story around that Martia Dooley’s gone daft an’ is up an’ down th’ r-road thryin’ to pass off a piece iv green paper as money. Th’ loot was in to see if I was vilent just befure ye come, I haven't had a cint iv money all day cept what little I took in, an’ yesterday 1 was fair rowlin’ in wealth. What will I do about it?” “Get it out iv the bark,” said Mr. Hen- nessy eagerly. “I'll go down an’ give that kid a talk, an’ do you sneak th’ roll.” “Well,” said Mr. Dooley, “I'm goin’ to see Father Kelly. I hope he ain't in on th’ play.” —_+ e+ —___ SCHOOLING OUTSIDE OF SCHOOLS. Where'd “Did ye so? What ar’re “I want ye to take Germany’s Bands of Tramp Students Have a Good Time. From the Congregationalist. A bicycle tour last July brought to our notice a feature of public education in Ger= many which might wisely be imitated tn this country. We arrived one day at Goslar, on the northern edge of the Harz mountains. The proprietor of our hotel was busy preparing for the coming of sixty boys. They arrived the next evening with their knapsacks, on foot, and accompanied by three or four teachers. In the large dining hall, after their bread and beer, brief addresses were made to them and they sang lustily several patriotic and folk songs. They were a lively but orderiy company. Next morning they gathered in the public square, near the most ancient historic building in the town. The events of interest which had there transpired were resounted to them, and other songs were in praise of the Fatheriand. We ard saw them in various excursions neighborhood. companies of students were often met with in the Harz and in the Thurin- gian forest. We learned that these jour- neys are an important part of school life. The pupils come sometimes from small Villages, sometimes from the larger towns. The proposed route is laid out weeks or even months beforehand. The pupils draw maps of the region through which they are to pass, Its features of geographic, literary and geological interest are ut to them. They are told what may expect to see and #ow to see It. Usually each pupil makes a weekly con- tribution toward the cost of the trip till the amount needed is secured. Of course strict economy is practiced and the ex- pense is small. Often they sleep in barns or in large halls, covered with straw. They are instructed as to their outfits, and each boy carries what he requires strapped on his shoulders. They divide into several groups—one group marching as leaders, another bringing up the rear, another act- ing as scout, and so on. They study botany, natural history, the roads and how they were mace, the raising and moving of crops and many other things. They visit the homes where men famous in war, gov- ernment or literature hi lived. ‘They learn poems associated with places. From such a journey, lasting from three days to three weeks, they return to their own communities with many new things of in- terest to talk about and much valuable in- formation. They write essays on their travels and observations. This outdoor study in Germany is considered important enough to be made the subject of an ex- tended report in a volume just issued by the English education office. Di ing Marriage Fees. From the Baltimore Sun, Gertrude Sellers and William Lucas, col- ored hackmen of Cumberland, were before Justice Anthony today, charged with ob- structing the passage of Norman Bruce Ribbet and Julia Clark, a young couple from Johnstown, Pa., who came to get married. Both hackmen were anxious to get the fare, and, it is currently believed here, to participate in the division of the fee With the preachers to whom they haul young couples. They beset the young bride and groom, pulling at them vigorously, scaring the bride until she nearly fainted, and quarreiing with each other. Lucas pleaded a jury trial, and Sellers, who was fined $15, appealed to court. A hackman, it is said, has an understanding with a preacher about the division of fees in such cases. He is not te accept the fees from the preacher, but from his wife, so if the matter would ever come into court he could swear that he never received a cent Oe,