Evening Star Newspaper, November 27, 1897, Page 23

WILHELM’S TACTICS The Emperor Shows His Generalship in the Maneuvers. REALISM OF A MIMIC BATTLE Situations That Put Officers and Men to the Test. THE CONDITIONS OF WAR From the London Mail. The gentleien of the press assembled in the railway station of Frankfurt at 5:30 each morning; there they met the officer of the great general staff appointed to give them information concerning the maneu- vers. To each he distributed an account of the forces engaged, a summary of the preceding day’s operations, a mep showing the position of the troops, and a sketch of the idea governing the operations for the day. Each journalist kad his pass, ena- bling him to wander as he,liked over the whole ground. The country covered by the maneuvers was fifty miles by twenty-five, the force engaged four army corps—two Prussian, two Bavarian—of three divisions apiece, with three independent cavalry di- visions. Say, roughly, a force equal to the British army in Britain. Substitute ball cartridge for blank and the two armies were operating exactly un- der the conditions of war. The generals commanding knew roughly the strength of the enemy; where he was end what he wes doing each had to find out fer himself. That was the exercise of the first day. It had been raining since mid- night; at 6:30, as I climbed slowly up the high ground northeast of Frankfurt, the roads were already like rice pudding; the plowed fields clung to boots and horseshoes- till they felt like the leaden soles of a diver; the pestures were like a soaked sponge, and the heavens were opened like a sieve. The beautiful red-and-blue-marked maps were pulp in my pocket before I saw the first soldier. Then, trotting along the streaming road, I came up with a string of wagons—the baggage of the advance guard. The infantry escort had covers over their helmets: they were squeezing water out of their Wellington boots by the buck- et; they had been on the road since 3 in the Morning, yet they were lighting cigars with cheerfulness, and grinned as they asked me if I had seen anything of the Bavar- fans. Muffied Thud of Guns. As the broad-faced peasant asked the question came the muffied thud of guns away on the right; I rode up a long bill of stubble, and looked out over a gray half- county of hill and valley, wood, and mud and water, to see what it was. Miles away on the left a wisp of smoke was just melt- ing into the drizzle; miles away in front came a couple of sparks. That was the be- ginning. That was the horse artillery at- tached to the reconnoltering cavalry; they had found the enemy, and were trying a shot or two to tempt him to reply. I descried in the direction of the fire a church steeple, apparently just being washed off the sky-line of a bare hill. When I got there I found infantry, knapsacks and cook- ing pans. overcoats and water bottles, rifles and cartridge pouches; these boys of twen- ty had been scrunching through slush and gravel since half-past 1 in the morning. It was now I; but, bent a little forward un- der the weight on their backs, with tight belts and pale faces and lips gripped to- gether, they scrunched heavily on. However, the operations of the day were already almicst over. Presently I came to the leading battalions of the Prussian force; they hed piled arms on either side of a road that ran through a wood; they had got their packs off, and were soaking placid- ly on the ground. Generals and adjutants and umpires, in long mauve-gray overcoats, sploshed up and down, saluting rigidly. Just in front the cavalry were feeling tor the enemy. At each turn in the road, at each break in the trees, you came on a little clump of half a dozen or a dozen Uhlans. They would be moving along at a wary walk. Then the clump would split up. One man disappeared down a grass ride through the wood; another rode cau- tiously ic a cottage, stole round it silently, and brushed the drops from his helmet as he peered through the rain; another rode up to a little knoll, and did his best to ob- literate himself under a tree; from time to time each returned and reported to the lieu- tenant or cergeant in command. Race for Position. I rode past them, and then suddenly met a couple of riders prying stealthily through the trees; this was the beginning of the Bavarians. Next moment there was a heavy tramping along the road, and up swung a battalion of blue Bavarian in- fantry. Without a moment's pause they wheeled to the right, breaking in the in- stant into companies in line, and then, bent a little forward, rifles ready, moved swiftly toward the trees where the Prussian bat- talions had piled arms. A crack, two cracks, a rattle—the armies were in touch, and the fight had begun. And for that day it was over. The day’s work was to get in touch with the enemy— a race for position. It had been done thor- oughly, cautiously, strenuously, exactly as in war. And new, what next? The men had been eight hours on the march in a never-ceasing alternation of drizzle and downpour. To make them bivouac in two inches of water would be to invite the country’s defenders to die of inflammation and rheumatic fever. So they were billeted. From house to house, over 1,200 square miles, went soldiers with little bits of pe- per quartering the trcops—in this house five men, in that an officer or two, here four horses, there a gun. The possibility had been foreseen, but until the last moment it had been intended to bivouac. Yet in four hours 100,000 men, and heaven knows how many horses, guns and wagons, were safe- ly under shelter. No confusion, no perplex- ity, no hitch! That ts the German army. The fourth day was even more eloquent. It had been arranged that the Prussians Were in retreat, and the day's exercise was for cavalry to break them up. The kaiser himself took command of the cavalry, and to give him a force worthy of a kaiser the divisions of both sides were combined into one corps. But then the retreating Prus- sians must have cavalry, too. So somebody said a word—and at dawn a new cavalry division bad appeared in the field. Heavy Fighting. There had been two days of heavy fight- ing in between. No one man could have seen the whole of it, for the line was ten miles long, but it was presumably all the same—infaptry lying down in line, hostile infantry lying down opposite them, a lively crackle of fire, and the guns booming be- bind. Then on one side a harsh yell of commard; one line springs up and makes a rush over the field or through the tree trunks at the other. Half w: and their fire rings out ag: he opposite line slackens. he assailants again and rush on; “Lively fire,” yells the captain in the defending line; “Lively fire,” roar the sergeants ai bim. The guns are suddenly hushed as the attacking line makes lis last rush, the captain’s and sergeants’ whistles scream on the other, and the blank cartridges spit out a breathless rush of fire. Then the two lines stand panting and grinning at each other ten yards apart. “How’s that, umpire?" “Successful charge,” says the umpire, and the defenders troop back to a new position. Or else, “unsuccessful,” and the defending peasants guffaw as the as- sailants troop back to begin over again. The katser’s day was different. I stood on a long hill and watched the Prussians in retreat. Down at the bottom of one side the last battalion was marching in solid column along a valley road; at the other side were stealing up the blue uniforms of @ weak Bavarian bicycle corps. Suddenty, miles away on the left, came a few horse- men riding swiftly over the extreme shoulder of the hill. Then the black mass of a squadron, the silhouette of battery. and then division. 6,000 sabers, glided swiftly into sight. Further still on the skyline, another ding mass, another pursuf: division. retreating battalion had k the road now; it was t patiently up the op- posite hill, the lines of four com- panies, one behind the other. The Kaiser's Charge. For the kaiser it was the critical moment. The leader of a cavairy corps must be a man of steel nerves and instant decision; ins cavalry has no time to balance ‘And io af Instant the kaiser decided. the bull of it dsappested ‘tapidiy over the i ral sky line; the kaiser was going on to strike at the buik of the retreating division fur- ther on. But there remained the blotch of one regiment and one battery. Hestily the battery broke up into six guns, unlimber- ed, was L shrapnel into the plodding infantry. The cavalry spread itself as by machinery into line, without check or hesitation it moved down the hill, across the road, up again till it was on @ level with the infantry. The battalion would be caught on its flank and rolled up like paper; what were its officers looking at? But as the thundering line swept down on it the hoarse echo of an ordet floated across the valley. There were the turn and click of a kaleidoscope—and the infantry were not four lines marching cp hill, but _one line lying down facing the charge. The cavalry flew on—horses leap- ing and plunging, but level as if they were tied together. ; Out spurted the rifle fire;on flew the chargers. Then twenty yards off they stopped—two-thirds of the line opposite the infantry, one-third lapping round its left flank. A word from the umpire; the charge had succeeded. The guns had shaken the infantry; the charge had broken it; the outflanking squadrons had stamped it to Pieces. Meanwhile the kaiser had ridden on four miles, and was repeating the process on a big scale with the main body of the retreat- ing division. In front of a pale village with @ square church tower I could just see wave after wave of cavalry sweeping over the fields, as if devouring them. I could see the flash of the guns and the rippling blaze of the infantry fire. When I got up they had just charged home, and the di- vision was collecting itself again. The kaiser had come up swiftly across country in just the right place at just the right moment; he had never lost an instant by hesitation, yet he had not struck till the moment when his blow must be crushing: ——___—_—++- ____ BIG FORTUNES LOST BY GAMBLERS. Millions That Change Hands on the ‘Turm of a Card. From Tit-Bits. Benson, the jubilee plunger, thought it worth while to write or have written for him a book telling how, in 1887, he spent aid gambled away a fortune of £250,000. Yet Benson's was by no means a record; indeed, if a list of the biggest losses in a single year by gamblers were compiled 4. would be found that Benson would not te in the first hundred. ‘The famous Lady Castlemaine was one of the most notorious gambiers of her day. Pepys, in his amusing diary, tells us that ‘mn a single night her losses amounted to over £25,000, and that, too, in a time, be it remembered, when money had two or three times its present purchasing power. Nell Gwynne, actress and court favorite, Leggared herself times over and over again at the gaming table. Her contemporary, the Duchess of Mazarin, niece of the fam- ous cardi: al of that name, raised in many ways large sums of money, always to lose them in the card room. Charles James Fox, as well as being a great siatesman, wes a notorious gambler. He lost enormous sums, and managed to get through several fortunes. His own es- tate and fortune rassed out of his hands very early, ard then Lord Holland paid for him £140,000 to rid him of his debts. Fortunes that came to him afterward by marriage were similarly gambled away in the gambling clubs of St. James and Pall Mall. Fox always took his beating like a man; he was the coolest gambler of a gam- bling age, and watched the turn-up of a card on which thousands depended with an apparent stoic indifference. The clubs at the end of the last century were hot beds of gambling. Lord Stavor- dele lost £11,000 at one sitting at Almack’s one fight, and was rising to go when the winner offered to throw him the dice for dcuble or quits; Lord Stavordale did so and won. At the Cocoa ‘free, a famous club in its day, there wes in 17S0 one famous evening, of which the records are stiil preserved, |.when a sum of £150,000 depended on a sin- gie hazard. As an instance of the enormous sums lost even early in this century, it may be stated that the club known as Crickford’s was started in 1827 by a fishmonger of that name; by keeping a hazard bank he retired in_1840, twice over a millionaire. To come to more recent times, the late Lord Waterford lost on the turf, and by his eccentric wagers immense sums, the precise amount of which it would be im- possible to set down. The Marquis of Hastings plunged till he became at once the terror and the joy of the racing fta- ternity. His losses on “Hermit’s Derby’ were considerably over £109,000. When Mr. Abington Baird died it was ed that his losses on the turf slone amounted to close on half a million. pears er Court Knew What Was Poker. From the Cineinnati Enquirer. Paul Milliken, who is one of the most popular men on ’change, was yesterday on the floor rehearsing the latest poker inci- dent.. It is unnecessary to say that he se- cured a great many auditors, as there are numerous admirers of the great American game there. A private game had been broken up in a small town which was very religiously inclined, and the players arrest- ed and taken before the county judge. The first prisoner was told by the judicial light to rehearse in strict honesty what was go- ing on when the officer appeared. “Well —— had just dealt. It was a jack pot—said I, ‘Open it, but it will cost you $2 to come in.’ The next player put up the needed amount and said: ‘Well, it will just cost $5 more to be in this play.’ The third one advanced it $3 more, and when it came to me I looked at my hand and found a pair of threes. I had been lucky, and con- cluded to go in the jack pot and did so.” “Prisoner is dismissed!” cried the judge, interrupting him in his story. “Well, what's the trouble?” said the lat- ter, looking about alarmed and studying the judge in surprise. “Why, simply this: You are charged for Playing poker, and your own evidence shows that you were not,” replied the court. Milch Goats. Frem the London Spectator. The goat ought to do a great deal to re- lieve the scare which has been produced by the reports that we have been habitual- ly drinking milk infected with the tuber- cle-bacillus, as it is said that very few cows are free from tubercle. In Sicily, Naples, Leghorn, Hyeres, Avignon, goat men go about from door to door and sell milk freshly drawn from the goats—a flock of ten or twelve goats. At Leghorn and at Avignon I myself have bought fresh goat's milk at the door. No doubt in many other gontinental towns a similar goat's milk trade is carried on. The however. are slow in quitting their usual groove, however advantageous and whole- scme the quitting may be. Many years ago I suggested to the-British Goat So- ciety the advisability of importing some imilch goats from Malta. I have nowhere seen finer milch goats than those of Ve- letta, taken round the streets, and the goats milked at the door of each house. ‘The finest are white, with small ears, and pink udders, reaching almost to the ground. Comparatively speaking, they give a larger qauntity of milk than cows, and the goats are much more economically fed than cows. In Calcutta there is a pretty small goat— @ sort of toy goat—which gives good milk. The inhabitants prefer goat’s milk with their tea to cow’s milk, and those who have tried it think so also. Then on the high- lands of Naples and Rome they have a miich sheep, fromthe milk of which the famous “Ricotta” (cream curds) is made. a eee Stanley’s Last Journey to Africa. From the Chicago Tribune. Henry M. Stanley made a journey into inner Africa the other day which was, per- haps, even more remarkable than his search for Livingstone or his exploration of the Congo basin. He traveled in a pal- ace car from Cape Town to Buluwayo, @ distance of 1,000 miles, in a little more than twenty-four hours. This Incident 1i- Ivstrates in the most striking The Tmperturbable ~Setenfty of Lord Hartington. How He Aided the Newspaper Maa ‘Who Persecuted Him on the Witness Stand. From the Chicago Times-Herald. More than twenty years ago, while Hart- ington was ehief secretary for Ireland, some national demonstration in Phoenix Park led to a breach of the peace that called out the troops. The disturbance occurred on Sunday, and immediately after the paraders were dispersed, many of them seriously injured, two or three of the lead- ers hastened to a lawyer and began legal Proceedings against Lord Hartington for having incited to a breach of the peace by calling out the troops. On the day of the alleged riot some friends of the secre- tary, including Prof. Mahaffy, had been at luncheon at the vice regal lodge in the park, and on their way to the city were witnesses of the disturbance. When Mr. Mahaffy was called during the trial in court the opposing counsel asked him if the crowd had recognized him. “Yeth,” ne replied, in his bland and lisping style, ‘I prethume that my friendth and mythelf presented thumthing of a quathi-vithe-regal appearanceth” (a quasi-vice-regal appear- ance). Great amusement was caused by the effcrts of lawyers to pin the professor dcwn to an exact meaning of this phrase, and Mahaffy, who is an adept in the arts of bambooziement, explained himself to the jury in words taken from Latin, Greek and German, which, of course, maile the matter perfectly clear to the twelve guod men and true. Hartington was put in the witness box and gave a simple “yes” or “no” to each question. “Did you calt out the troovs?” “Do ycu think you were justified in calling them out?” “Do you think it the duty of a secretary to stop a peaceAble meeting of citizens by sending armed soldiers to fire upon them?” “Yes” or “no” came delib- erately as the calm-looking witness shifted the right leg over the left knee or the left leg over the right knee. The fishing got nothing out of him. He was deap as mid- Atlantic. When counsel tried to irritate bim-he smiled, looked down at his wiggling shoes and said nothing. The ardent sa- tionalist, who was priming the cross-exam- ining lawyer wita questions not calculated to turn away wrath, had fire in his eye. This little fat man, with a very red nose, was a reporter on a Dublin paper, and a8 he might never again have a. chance to disturb the tranquillity of the witness be made the most of the opportunity. Out- rageously irrelevant questions were put at his instigation, and every few moments he jumped up to say something offensiv2, when he was pulled down by his coat tails. Finally he was hustled out of the court rocm, and the imperturbable nobleman was allowed to go ‘Ten years afterward Lord Hartington, while holding some cabinet position, was walking over one night from the house of commcns to the ho of lords. The little fat reporter h the red no: ited him, raised his hat and -aid e do, marquis? Don’t you know Hartington also raised his hat as he “I don’t seem to remember you, said: sir.” “That's strange,” said the reporter; “I'm the man, your lordship, Michael O’Shauga- nessy by name, that brought the action against you ten years ago in Dublin for disturding the peace. the marquis. “I’m very glad to see you again, Mr. O'Shaughnessy. How are you? You're looking very w. Is there any- thing I can do for you?’ “Well, your lordship, I want to get a scoop for my paper, and your lordship is the only man that can give me the infor- mation. If you'll give it to me it'll be worth a five-pound note to me.” Where- upon he “up” with his story. “I have no objecticn,” said Hartington, “to tell you all I kyow about that affair,” and he gave Michael the material for his scoop. Upon one occasion Hartington had to read a long official statement in parlia- ment. He yawned frequently. Some one d ‘him why he yawned so much. he replied, “the thing was su— The only time he has ever been known to exhibit any emotion was while reading for the house of commons the dis- patch announcing the death of Gen. Gor- don, and then tears were in the voice of a man who is not given to the melting mood. —————_+e-____ DANGERS OF GUN PRACTICE. The Bravery of a Mate Saved a Ship From Destractton. From the San Francisco Chronicle. “There is considerable danger in this naval practice in gunnery,” said an officer of the United States navy the other day. “I came very near going up into the air in smail bits on this last squadron cruise. We were at heavy gun practice at sea, and but for the quickness of a gunner’s mate would never have returned. As you prob- ably know, the heavy guns in the turrets are fired by electricity, the gun being dis- charged simply by pressing a button. The officer in command of the forward turret on our ship during rapid-fire practice was just about to press the button to fire one of our big guns, when a gunner’s mate was seen to grab at something on the wall of the turret and then fall in a heap on the floor. The officer pressed the button, but the gun was not discharged. “When the mate came to, he was asked what had happened, and he informed the officer that the breech of the gun had not been locked, and that what he grabbed at on the wall was the wires forming the electric firing circuit. When he saw that the officer was preparing to fire the gun, and at the same time observed that the breech of the gun was not locked, the only thing that occurred to him to prevent the gun being discharged was to destroy the cireult, which he did promptly and ef- fectively, When all this occurred there was a charge of 250 pounds of powder in the gun, another charge of the same size in the Lande reeny, = pe served, and the passageway leading to the powder - zine was wide open. is feat “But for the quickness of the gunner’s mate the gun would have been blown out inside the turret, the gases from the burn- ing powder would probably have ignited the charge lying in the turret, this explo- sion would have ignited the powder in the magazine, and the chances are that the whole ship, crew and all, would have gone up in the air. A thought that has occurred to me is this: Suppose the accident had occurred, what do you imagine the verdict of the board of inquiry as to the cause of the loss of the ship would have been? Since this experience the department has adopted electrical means to prevent the discharge peor of the large guns until the breech is “Oh, indeed!” :aid ——_-2-_____ New York and London. The Local Government Jourral, in mak- ing some statistical comparisons between New York and London, says that Greater London is double the size of Greater New York and has double the population. It has more than twice as many policemen, but only half ss many firemen, a fact which can be easily accounted for when the char- acter of the buildings of New York ts re- membered. We have four timea as many scholars in our public schools, but only 25 per cent more teachers, which seems to show that big classes as we see them in London schools are not approved in New York. We have more public libraries, but The New Yorker can of nine more cemet than can be-found in London, and he the lous emter- @ church or for 8,000 persons, while we rovide one every The municipal debt hangs heavier round his neck, the debt about 85 per cent lighter for each . “Organ- “out in Landon ona fansite £6 about forty-five is maintained by the rate- THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 37, 1897-24 PAGES, “ ¥ce A Father’§, Prayer, Written fie The . i Hush, softly my Eaby sleeps, His little-hands on his breast, Placed by the a angel 50, To show that hevis ly Blest. His wond'ring cy: tightly closed, ‘His rose-leaf lipe are haif apart, The downy linen If; moves Above the tremble of: his heart. ? Oh, God! May thijse dar eyes ne'er know Desire for @ sinful sight; May those sweet lips ne’er move to speak, Save words approved!of Thy might; May he e’er know’wheh through that heart The rich blood courses hot and strong; Naught but devotion for the Right, And detestation for the Wrong! Protect him, Father, £o that he May e’er revere Thy holy name, So when Death sends to him the call He may be ready that it came. Secure in sturdy consciousness That while the path of life he trod His footsteps ever kept the way That leads to Thee and Thine, Oh, God! CLUSKEY CROMWELL. —_~— Autumn. Written for The Evening Star. Summer has flown with her resplendent train. Her silver web no more the splder wesves Across the pathway or beneath the eaves, For bold Autumnus has begun his reign. No mcre is heard“the wood-lark's plaintive strain, Nor chirps the katydid among the leaves, But id the ripened mast the chill wind grieves, Ard swollen streamlets maunder o’er the plain; The somber fields ;lameat their ravished grain, And liveried woods have donned a motley dress; Fair strays of golden-rod have decked the leas And sumachs wave their creasets in the breeze; mee But, ah! the saddened earth smiles less and less, And scarcely heeds the waning sun’s caress. FRANCIS C. LONG. + Who's Dead? From the Chicago Record. Who's dead? Who at this moment died, Or far away or close at hand— Out where the ocean furies hide Or on the crime-infested land? Who, when you bent to read this line (No matter where, no matter how Death came to him and gave the sign Of beckoning), whe died just now? King, was it? Bishop? Robber? Wife? Or babe in some worn mother’s arms? Or patriarch just finding life Possessed of newer, fresher charms? Perhaps it was a boy whose face Was bright with youth—perhaps a bride— Perhaps a chief af some wild race, Stretched on his bullhide shield—who died. And where? In f! aya sunny Spain? Or in the endles® northern night? Or on the parcheq ‘Sahara plain Or on some stony monntain height? Touched Death soffe ivlet of the sea Where oceans pdzt' aad oceans meet. Or did he come a ghes¢,to be Within the housesacross the street? mes Who died just now? #hch human breath (So calculating men déclaré) Is but a tally for 9 deaih In this great hive ofumen, somewhere. Somewhere just now oter trembling lips There passes forth life's final sigh, Just as the disapfiearit{e ships Drop down below, thi¢ line of sky. Who died just now in ll the world? he pone: ‘orl¢, stétistirians say, for each paksift moment hurled Down Agracl's dake ye ee way, To stdnd, gaunt-eyed-and white and awed, Where Charon’s boathghts dully shine. Who was it.died just now? Pray God Not some one, of yout kith—or mine. The Usual Way. From the London Figaro. She first essayed grand opera, And sadly fafled; She tried to sing in concert then, And only wailed; In choir and chorus ‘twas the same— The audience quailed. At last "twas plain she couldn’t sing As she had thought; So she retired for good and all, Unknown, unsought, Then singing she would teach, she said; And so she taught! ——_____+e- _____ A Madrigal. Before me, careless lying, Young Love his ware comes crying; Full soon the elf untreasures His pack of pains and pleasures— With roguish eye He bids me buy From out his pack of treasures. His wallet’s stuffed with blisses, With true-love-knots and kisses, With rings and rosy fetters, And sugared vows and letters— He holds them out With boyish flout, And bids me try the fetters. Nay, Child (I cry), I know them; There's little need to show them! Too well for new believing I know their past decelving— I am too old (i say), and cold Today, for new believing! But still the wanton presses, ‘With honey-sweet caresses, And still, to my undoing, He wins me with his wooing, To buy his ware ‘With all its care, Its sorrow and undoing. —AUSTIN DOBSON. ——_—_<e0____ A Winter Night. Frank Stanton in the Atlanta Constitution. Pile on the logs! the bright flames start And up the roaring chimney race; How grateful should we be, sweetheart, For just this little fireplace! I said today that I was poor, And poor in somé things I may be, But here's a shelter—who needs more?— And your bright eyes to shine for me! Draw near, and sum our blessings, sweet; ‘While we are housed and clothed and fea The bleak winds hpund,from street to street Souls that shard) ‘hot-tife’s daily bread. While we, safe-h; from the sto: Have all our Sr aon desire, = There’s many a weak ‘and wounded form Bends o’er a hearth yithout a fire. Thank God for Home! and if a knock Sound at the dour this toy nights O Jet us hasten to-unleck And bring a brdther‘to the light! It_was for this God’s gifts were lent— To light the way fo trove that roam; It was for this the Christ was sent— ‘To shelter thoseithat had no home! —$$_binest—___ ‘To read would add - A fall twelveneeie te am op cect Sade ts soa SOME LIVING PREPENDERS How the Petty Governitauts of Europe Ate Shadowed. oe Pretéligers to Thrones an@ Little Ducal Betates—France, italy, Spain an@ Sicily Have Them. Frem Tit-Bite. The profession of the royal pretender is very much overdone in Europe just now. A Madrid editor has found six men who think they have claims to the crown of France, besides any number who think that they have paramount fights to the throne of Spain, and the purple of small Italian prin- cipalities. The most interesting of the Spanish pre- tenders is not Don Carlos, but a man whose name is seldom mentioned outside the Iberian peninsula. He ts the Duke of Medina-Celi, chief defender of the faith, fourteen-fold grandee of Spain, fifst of all Castilian knights, and direct descendant of Ferdinand and Isabella. For him and his family the race cf Bourbon-Anjou, who now rule Spain, are nothing more than usurpers. As often as a new King of Spain is crowned, the duke’s herald appears in the palace, and, in the presence of all the grandees of Spain, protests in the name of his lord against this usurpation, sets forth the claim of the Medina-Celfs to the throne, and challenges every knight who may venture to dispute the legitimacy of the duke’s rights to defend his opinion In @ duel to the death, “‘on the mountain or on the plain, by day or by night.” As no grandee of Spain has ever seen fit to take the duke and his herald seriously, the head of the house of Medina-Cell has been left free to spend the income from his enormous fortune on his fads and to make perennial tours of his numerous estates. It is said that he can travel from one end of Spain to the cther, and sleep every night in one of his own houses. Under these cir- cumstances, he has proved a less trouble- some pretender than Don Carlos. This chief of Spanish pretenders was once so im- poverished that, with the help of his sec- retary, he tried to turn into coin the gold chain of his Order of the Golden Fleece. By the death of Count Chambord and some luck in matrimony, however, he was eventually enabled to lay up a fortune against a rainy day and keep his decora- tions away from the goldsmiths and the pawnbrokers. A group.of pretenders who are chronical- ly bankrupt affMict the Italian provinces. At almost any. time one may find in the continental newsnapers brief paragraphs concerning the difficulties which a Count of Aquila, or Trani, or Syracuse, is having with the sheriffs. A census of pretenders has not been taken. A partial list of those who think that they have valid claims to the throne of France was published re- cently, however. They are Don Carlos; Alfonso XIII, King of Spain; Francis, some- time king of both Sicilies; Francis, Se- bastian’s son by his second wife, an aunt of the dead king; Robert, once Duke of Parma; Louis Philippe of Orleans. All these gentlemen are descendants of Louis XIII of France. The last one to announce his preteisions to the world is General Francis of Bourbon, who suddenly began calling -himself Duke of Anjou after the Count of Paris’ death, and sent out a mani- festo concerning his claims. This course has been rather disastrous to him, for he has been deprived not only of his com- mand in the Spanish army, but also of the salary that went with { THEIR FEMININE VALET. She Attends to the Clothing of Four Society Men. From the St. Louls Republic. There are at least four men in this town who will never be hampered and “done for” when they marry as they are now. One of them is a widower, the other three are dyed-in-the-wool bachelors. They live in handsome apartments in the West End, and between them they have a woman valet. She is a motherly looking, middle- aged creature, quite lady-like, and always as neat as a pin in her attire. She prob- ably does not see her employers once a month. She goes to their rooms every day after they have left them and puts their clothes in order. She gets the laundry ready and delivers it to the laundry wagon on specified days. She is there when It is returned, sorts it, sews on missing buttons, darns the silken socks, puts the handker- chiefs between their scent bags, and regu- larly once a week she cleans out the draw- ers. When one of her charges leaves her a note, saying that he is going to the theater or @ party at night, she lays his dress suit out, puts the shirt ready, adjusts the but- tons, varnishes his pumps, in fact, has everything so that all the man kas to do is to put them on. Next morning they are as carefully put away. His various suits of clothes are brushed every day, and his valet doesn’t have to be told when they should go to the tailor’s for fresh creases in the trousers and a sponging of coat and vest. A moderate charge per week is made for the service by this woman, who makes really a good living out of her clever idea of “doing” for gentlemen. ———_+e+____ PEOPLE IN NORTH CHINA. Wild Tribe of Ri fians Located in Mongolia. From the Pall Mall Gazette, Far away to the north of the Desert of Gobi, where the Saian range splits the tributary waters of the rising Yenisei and the Chinese empire melts into Russian Sibe- ria, right at the topmost corner of Mon- golia, lies the territory of the little-known Siyots. Three hundred years ago, when the pale-faced Russians broke into Siberia, the Siyots fied before them. They alone would not bend the knee to Russia. South- ward they fled over the Saianski passes into the kingdom of the dragon, donned the pigtail and became Chinese, dispossessing in their hurry a fine race of people. - The Siyots of today are divided into two classes with diverse conditions. Those of the north, inhabiting the slopes of the » are hunters, worshipers of devils, eating meat and even carrion. Those of the south, who dwell upon the plains, are herders of horses and cattle, Buddhists by religion, men of cleanly habits, eating only milk and millet seed. So wild and desolate is the region of the Siyots that even the government maps are utterly wrong about it. Rivers are omit- ted, misplaced and transposed; errors of to a hundred miles are common. Even the intrepid Prjevalsky, who passed through Uliassutai, Kobdo and Uurga, did not turn aside into this great northern waste. A strange face is never seen there, and life goes by queer ancestral customs, The Siyots live in round “karals,” or tents, built of movable lattice, with a felt- covered conical top. Insidé is a neat hex- agonal arrangement of boxes or They ure ik | bh ; 4 4 il af afk 5 aif de tet Fy >F and some are born; how, then, shall it be told?” have lived long among them, however, they will expand upon many sacred subjects. They will even show the much-dreaded caves of the ancient race they dispossessed, situated 200 versts southwest of the junc- tion of the Bei-kem and Kha-keem, sources go in fines and damnation for the luckless Siyot who betrayed the secret of his race. ———_+e COURTSHIP IN ZUNILAND. ‘Women Do the Lovemaking and Pop the All-Important Question. From the Woman’s Home Con.panion. The powers freely extended the women of Zuni are many, being particularly fa- vorable to them in domestic matters and in everything pertaining to the home. These peculiar liberties are manifest before marriage, as well as after, for the alleged privileges of leap year hold rule contin- uously in Zuniland. When one of the daughters of the tribe takes an amored liking for a young man, she very frankly confesses it, and her parents are informed of her choice of a prospective husband. If they approve, the interesting information is imparted in due time to ius family; and if the yet perhaps unsuspecting subject of the selection is suited, in turn he makes, through the mutual parents, engage- ment to visit his admirer at her home. He is received somevhat formally by the maiden and her family, when something like the following laconic conversation en- sues between the young people, while the father and mother, with the other mem- bers of the household, sit apart, amiably pretending not to liste “Thou comest,” she says. ‘Yes; how be ye these many days?” he answers. “Happy. Gather and sit,” and she mo- tions him to a seat near her. As a never-failing hospitality on the part of a hostess, when a visitor enters a Zuni home she places food before him him “loosen his belt and lessen ger.” But he appears preoccupied, and Partakes quite sparingly. give the polite impression that he is a light eater—an im- portant point in the favor of a prospective husband. .“Thanks; I am satisfied,” he says, after dining off little more than a bird's ions. “Kat enough. You must have come think- ing of something. What have you to say?” she asks, encouragingly. “I don’t know.’ “Oh, yes, you do; tell me,” she coyly per- sists. ‘1’m thinking of you,” in a whisper. “Indeed! You must be mistaken.” “No.” “Then do you love me?” “I love you!” “Truly?” “Truly.” “Possibly we shall see. What think you, father?” as she turns in apparent perplex- ity to the family group. “‘As you wish, my child,” her parent re- plies. She then appears to ponder the matter for the first time, and after due considera- tion of the momentous question consents to become his yi-lukia’ni-ha, or “his-to- be,” and from that time on t! are as de- voted to each other as are lovers in any clime. \ ——_-+-_____ Tennyson at Home. Col. T. W. Higginson in the Atlantic. Fortified with letters of introduction from Lady Pollock and Miss Thackeray, I visited Tennyson. Spending the previous night at Cowes, I was driven eight miles to Farringford, where Tennyson then lived, by a very intelligent young groom who had never heard of Tennyson. Arriving, I sent up my name, and heard presently a rather heavy step in the adjoining room, and there stood in the doorway the most un-English looking man I had ever seen. He was tall and high-shouldered, careless in dress, and while he had a high and domed forehead, yet his brilliant eyes and tangled hair and beard gave him rather the air of a partially reformed Corsican bandit, or else an imperfectly secularized Carmel- ite monk, than of a decorous and well- groomed Englishman. He greeted me shy- ly, gave me his hand, which was in those d@ays a good deal for an Englishman, and then sidled up to the mantelpiece, leaned upon it, and said, with the air of an aggrieved schoolboy: “I am rather afraid of you Americans: your countrymen do not treat me very well. There was Bay- ard Taylor,” and then he went into a long narration of some grievance incurred through an indiscreet letter of that well- known journalist. Strange to say, the ef- fect of this curious attack was to put me perfectly at my ease. It was as if I had visited Shakespeare, and had found him in @ pet because some one of my fellow-coun- trymen had spelled his name wrong. I krew myself to be wholly innocent and to have no journalistic designs, nor did I ever during his lifetime describe the in- terview. ———$<e-—___ ‘The Dull Darwin. rom Chambers’ Journal. Since the days of Sir Isaac Newton there destructive forest fires of which we read so often in the journals of the day are to be # i Hy Lie PE ef i i i Hijit fi! i il tile cut { i if 8 i i f I i | Hy rid ff i i il bie, terribte! Joathed me! Then my fate would be less LOVE FOR THE HORSE How the Trooper Becomes Attached to His Mount. SOME NOTABLY INTELLIGENT ANIMJLS Soldiers May Go Hungry, but They Will Steal for Their Steeds. REMARKABLE ENDURANCE ——o—-— From the New York Times. An Arab maxim says, “Care ye not a date stone if-a thoroughbred horse carries @ worn-out saddle. That is no disgrace to the horse.” When Colonel! Waring first dis- covered poor Vix she had fallen to the fowest sphere of equine li’e. She was haul- ing a clam cart. “She bad succumbed to dire necessity, and earned her ignoble oats with dogged fidelity.” There was such ia- herent sweetness in Vix that even her clam-peddling owner did not abuse her. But “she was worn to a skeleton.” Coarse harness, badly fitted, had galled her; her coat was sunburned; only the perfect head, “with the keen, deer-like eyes, and their active ears,” remaincd. “Her royal brood shone out from the face and kept it beauti- ful” Attached to the early work of Central Park in 1838,Colonel Waring, then at the be- ginning of his engineering career, had to have a horse—and thin, worn, bruised and pitiable as Vixen looked, he bought her. Good judgment, kind treatment, at once Metamorphosed the mare. Her minor bruises were soon obliterated; there might have been some few scars left, but her blood told. She never became fat; that was not in her race. A perfect horse never shows age, and Vix was of that kind. She kept looking like a colt to the end of her lime. Very properly, as belonged to her Sex, she liked to be admired. She might Show off at times, but her inherent dignity never was lessened. A man may have many horses, but he can love only onc—and Vix 8 master never has forgotten her. When Colonel Waring went into service, Vix was his mount. Alas! doing heavy ser- vice on little food was too much for her. She broke down all but in spirit. Fording a swollen stream overtaxed her streny She was tenderly nursed. There no harder pull on @ trooper’s feelings than to see his horse in an agony of pain, beauing the head from side to side on the hard ground. Vix might have recovered, for a blooded animal, through will power alone, make a vigorous fight for life; but in- fernal brute” of a horse broke into Vix's inclosure, and with one kick laid open her hock joint, and she was done for. Still she rubbed her velvet nose against her mas- ter's arms, but she could not rise. There might have been heard a plaintive whinny. A horse cannot whinny with that tender appeal, and so that whinny was Vix's last farewell. There was a single shot, and Vixen, the incomparable, has her name cut deeply “on the bark of a great oak tree, just VIX,” and some time Colonel Waring is going to make a journey, a pilgrimage of some thousand miles, and only wants to Scrape the moss from the inscription. Perhaps a man must have been in service to thoroughly understand the close friend- ship which exists between the trooper and his horse. Just live for months closely as- sociated with a horse, and care for him, groom him, sleep alongside of him and steal food for him and keep on thinking about him all the time, and ties are formed which never are severed. You forget the selfish instinct in it ali—that your life depends on the vitality, the endurance of your horse, and so you may set it down, in part at least, to your own good intentions. In the many sketches in this little volum nothing is more happily conceived than t story of Wettstein, the Swiss, with his mincing German and guttural French. Wettstein was the trumpeter, and the ring of his umpet is audible today in the ears “of every man of the regiment” who made the campaign in south Missouri. The clarion’s mount was a small, undersized mare, and he had called her Klitschka. She was iron gray and as tough as iren, too. Her master is to be forgiven, for he would steal forage for her while other horses might.go hungry. Little Klitschka always had her rations, and it is quite pos- sible that, with affection for Col. Waring, maybe the commanding officer's own horse sometimes had the advantage of the trum- peter’s peculiar methods of foraging. Wettsiein was a brave fellow, and was ready with his saber. When the skirmish was over, he would sing the “Ranz des Vaches” and pet his little mare. Alas! Wettstein was badly wounded in the arm, swollen river had to be passed, and there was a rotten ferryboat. The herr oberst and the trumpeter got into the boat. Then a huge floating tree struck the craft and both men were in the water; “bringing the rope against Wettstein’s wounded arm, it tore loose his hold and Klitschka was free.” The weight of his arms prevented his ris- ing again, and only an angry eddy glisten- ing in the moonlight marked his grav “After that there happened a long and try- ing campaign, but Wettstein was not for- gotten; more than one of us was the better soldier for the lesson his soldierly life had taught us.” Of another horse, Ruby by name, the author of “Whip and Spur” tells. All good borses are surprises, and Ruby was pre- cisely of this kind He acted much better than he looked. That depends, however, on the man in the stirrups. Max, another horse, must have been an animal of great endurance, for Colonel Waring once rode him “much of the time at a gallop or a rapid trot for fifty-four hours.” Why this happened may be at once understood. Col. Waring’s regiment was tackling Forrest, and when that happened men and horses had all they wanted in the way of work. peewee Wanted to Be Coaxed. From the Cleveland Plain Dealer. “No,” sald Evangeline Glendenning. as she looked down at the floor and nervously twisted her slim little fingers, “no, Alfred, I am sorry, but it cannot be.” Alfred Doncaster had loved the beautiful girl from the moment he had first seen her, and he had fondly believed that she looked upon him with more than ordinary favor. But now his hopes lay shattered, and the future stretched out black before him. The strong, handsome young man sighed and was ee ee eee At last the sweet maiden said: ‘Kn “Try to be brave, Alfred. Diss teceen tbeerk hari wonder, and Sevag should 700 bid Fredo this? What Seen cee his arme'and holding her ins strong cme race, “you love me! Ah, darling, you can- aoe bide the truth from me! Tell me it is ‘Yes,” she whispered, “I love you, Al- fred.” ” he groaned, “this is terri- ie! Oh, if you only hated ‘me— “Why,” she asked, “do you want me to hate you?” “Ah,” he “2 it bear my answered, migh' own burden; but bow can I survive, know- suffer?” that you, too, "Eve whe et either of us suffer?’ the