Evening Star Newspaper, February 12, 1898, Page 16

id : ————————————— 6 L It befeil that in the first scuffle that oc- curred b>tween the federals and confeder- ates somewhere in the neighborhood of Jonesboro’, when Sherman was preparing to swing loose from his base at Atlanta, Jack Kilpatrick, commanding a squad of sharpshooters, was seriously wounded. It was all his own fault, too. He was acting cutside his regular dutizs. Some excited colonel calied fer a courier to send an un- necessi message to some imaginary regi- ment. Kilpatrick, seeing no courier at hand, rode forward and offered his s2r- vices. Mounted on his black mare, he made it a Point to expose himself. He couldn't help it fer the life of him. It was in his blood. So, instead of going to the rear, he gallop2d cut between the lines. A big Irishman on the federal side, whose name was O’Hallo- Tan, leveled his rifle at th> horseman. Then he lifted nis eyes from the sites and took another look at the venturesome rider. Tis the young Johnny, or Oi'm a nay- = he exclaimed. Then he drew a long wreath. “Oi was in wan of tetchin’ the traygur.” But there were other marksmen farther up the line who were not nice in such mat- ters. There was a rattling fire of musket- Ty. Plato, Kipatrick’s body servant, saw his young master reel in the saddle as the reins fell loose from the hand that held them—I saw him reel again as the mare turned of her own accord and brought her rider whirling back to the point of depar- ture—where he fell fainting in the arms of his own men. Kilpatrick had taken many chances be- fore and escaped unscathed; but this time @ bullet went tearing through his shoulder, entering obliquely and going out at the collar bone under his chin. He was promptly carried to the rear by his men, followed by Plato, leading tne black mare. A surgeon dressed th> wound hastily, re- marking that it was a pity the young man couldn't pe ried where he might get the benefit of careful nursing. ‘I kin kyar "im Fome, suh,” ‘Tain't so mighty fur young marster live at.” “How far?" asked th> surgeon. “In de neighborhoods er forty mile, suh,” replied Plato. The surgeon shook his head. “He can’t le horseback. But he'll die if he’s left here.” “I wuz layin’ off ter borry a bugsy some’rs,"” remarked Plato. ‘The surgeon considered the matter. ‘‘Well, get it," he said, presently, “and be quick said Plato. ter whar my about it. I'll pad him up for traveling the best I can. It’s one chanc? in ten thou- sand. But he’s young and strong, and the on> chance is his.” Plato sprang on the black mare, and in an half an hour had returned with ted buggy. That's the very thing,” said the surgeon. ‘The rear s:at was taken out, the cush- ions of both seats were spread on the bot- tom, and en these a hospital mattress and some blankets were spread. On these the wounded man was placed, and then the surgeon deftly packed a dozen layers of cotton batting under the shattered shoul- der. Altogether. Jack was made as com- fortable as a badly wounded man could be under the circumstance: “Tt is new 10 o'clock.” said the surgeon, woking at his watch. “You ought to have him in bis own bed by 6 this afternoon. Kill the horse on level ground, but bring it to life in the rough places. You know what I mean. “If he hurts that mare,” young Kil- patrick declared, with as much energy as he could command, “Fil see him about it when I get well.” h ter de Lord you could git up an’ t it now,” remarked Plato with <aze dish yer filly ts sho’ r foots an’ put ‘em down agin ain't never done it befo’.” he climbed back into the i around at his young master ything was all right, and re the word. Though the »ken to harness e had been under the new position fret- sh as a woman, » said. The harness chafed her, the afts worried her and the rattle of the F bed her. She wobbled from road to the other, and went ual business as awkwardly uly Plato stopped her in the the blinders from the bridle. great relief to the high-strung uld now what was behind and on both tisfaction and a will that to work with negro immensely. foot of the road, hav- R traveled it at night, and so the that were made were when man wanted water, which ad from the roadside springs. was made without incident, while driving rapidly, had efully that when he reached * master was fast asleep. while tired, was in fine her rations of food and of water had to be cut short until she had thorcughly cooled off. hardly got out of sight of the ring before the confederates before the great odds before them ed de from Sherman's path. were not in a panic, but the pres- Was too heavy, and when they re- i they were compelled to leave some their wounded in a field hospital in rge of the surgeon who had sent Jack home. The enemy's skirmish- ‘romptiy moved up to the position va- he confederates. Among the ‘as a big soldier, who went the rude shelters that had been accommodate the wounded. h each and examined the enly stop ou after?” asked a tone in which curiosity were strangely mixed. but @ slip of a lad oi’m sor,” replied the big soldier, rdinery politeness, considering asion. no wounded Yanks here,” the ed, smiling pleasantly as puzzled, good-natured irishman. Johnny lad Oi'm lookin’ for—a cern me two fists. Oi seen um 2 a black horse, an’ I seen um whin a dirty blacksmith in the zive it to um in the shoulder—the kguard that he was!" wh’ exclaimed the surgeon, “that was ack Kilpatrick. “The same, sor.” “How did you come to know Kilpat- Fick?” Sharpshootin’, sor. We had the divvle’s own time thryin’ to ploog aych ither be- chane the two ey:s. But we wuz chums, scr, betwixt the lines. Oi sez to meself, sez Of, “OV'll be lookin’ afther the lad, whin we brush the Johnnies away, an’ maybe fetch ‘im a docther.’ Is h2 clane done for, sor?” “He'll need a doctor before he gets one, I'm thinking,” remarked the surgeon, and then he told how Jack Kilpatrick had been sent hom>. The big Irishman seemed better satisfied and pushed forward with the advancing lookin with for, extr . Plato was a very wise negro, considering his opportunities, and as he sat on the edg> of the veranda next day, near the window of his young master’s room, he shook bis bead and wondered whether he had acted for the Last in coming home--whether it For it was perfectly clear to Plato that the home people were thoroughly demoral- ized. “Ol miss—this was Jack’s mother— @ woman of as clear a head and as stealy @ hand as anybody in the world—a woman ing resources, as it seamed to her and dependents—was now es ner- as fidgety, and as helpless zs any oman. “Young mistress—this was 's sister Flora—a girl with as much g : LLLLLALLLLSLLS ULSALLS AN AMBUSCADE ad WRITTEN FOR THE EVESING {TAR BY JOFL CHANDLER HARRIS. (Copyright, 1898, by Joel Chandler Harris.) PT SURGULSE LLU LLL LAS CU RUS UG fire and courage as are given to women— was in a stat> of collapse. NoW, if it had been somebody else’s son, somebody else’s brother, who bad been brought to their house wounded, these ladies would have been entirely equal to the occasion. But it was Jack, of all persons in the world; it Was the son, the brother. Courage fled lke a shadow, and all resources were dis- stpated as if they had been so much vapor. The wounded man had sizpt fairly well during the night, but in the early hours of morning his fever began to rise—as was to be expected—and then he became ¢elirious. He talked and laughed and rattled away with his jokes—he was noted for his dry humor—and occasionally he paused to tuke breath and groan. And all that the re- sourceful Mrs. Kilpatrick and the cour- ageous Flora could do was to sit and gaze at each other and wipe their overtiowing 2yes with trembling hands. Plato was sent to the village, nine miles away, for the family doctor, but he re- turned with a note from that fat and amiable old gentleman, sayzng that he had just been informed that the entir2 federal army was marching to surround the vil- lage, and, as for him, he proposed to stay and defend his family. This news went to Aunt Candace, the plantgtion nurse, in short order. Plato was her son, and he f2It called on to tell her about it. Aunt Candace made no comment what- ever. She knocked the ashes out of her pipe. leaned it in a corner of the fireplace, tightened up her handkerchief and wad- died off to the big house. Plato knew by the way his mammy looked that there would be a fuss, and he hung back, pre- ten@ing that he had some business at the horse lot. = “Whar you gwin2?” asked Aunt Candace, seeing he was not coming. “I'm des gwine—* “Youer des gwine "long wid me, dat’s whar you des gwine. An’ you better come on. Ef I lay my han’ on you you'll feel it, man.” “Yassum, I’m comin’,” replied Plato. He was very polite when he knew his tammy had her dander up. Aunt Candace marched into the big house with an air of proprietorship. “Whereabouts is dat chile?’ she asked in a tone that a stranger would have de- scribed as vicious. “He's in here, Kilpatrick gently. Candace went into the room and stcod by the bedside. The weather was chilly and she placed her cold hand on Jack’s burning brow. Instantly he stopped talk- ing and seemed to eleep. “God knows, honey,” she said; “dey'd set here an’ let de green flies blow you befo’ dey’d git up out’n der cheers ‘an’ he'p yeu.” Mrs. Kilpatrick and Flora forgot their grief for a moment and stared at Aunt Cendace with speechless indignation. This — jest what the old negro wanted them 10 do. - “Plato!” she cried, “take de ax an’ run down ter de branch an’ git me yo’ double han’ful er dogwood bark—not de outside; I want de skin on de inside. An’ I want some red oak bark—a hatful. An’ don’t you be gone lorg, needer. Kaze ef I hafter holler at you, I'll jump on you an’ gi’ you a iin’. Now, ef you don’t believe it, you des try me.” But Plato did believe it, and he went herrying off as rapidly as he used to go when he was a boy. “Whar dat house gal?’ asked Aunt Can- dace abruptly. “Ill call her,” sald Flora, but the girl that moment appeared at the door. “Whar you been, you lazy wench?” cried Aunt Candace. “Go get me a pan er col’ water an’ a clean towel—I don’t keer ef it's a rag, ef it's a clean rag.” hen she turned her attention to Jack. “God knows, honey, ef you can’t git nobody else tor do nothin’ fer you, ol’ Candace’ll do it. She's nussed you befo’ an’ she'll do it again.” Aunt Candace’s" words and manner were calculated end intended to exasperate her old mistress and her young mistress. “If you think I intend to submit to your impudence”—Mrs. Kilpatrick began With as much dignity as she could command under the circumstances. But Aunt Can- dace was equal to the emergency. Before her mistress could say what she intended; the old negress rose from the bedside, her s blazing with wrath. “Whose imperdence? ._ Whose imperdence? Ef I felt dat away, I'd ’a sot down yander an’ nussed my own sickness an’ jet dis chile die. He's yo’ chile; he ain't none er mine; an’ yit youer settin’ dar hol'in’ yo’ han’s an’ wipin’ yo’ eyes, whiles de fever fair bu’nin’ ‘im up. “He ain't none er my chile, yit ef he ain’t got none er my blood in ’em, it’s kaze nig- ger milk don’t turn to blood. I don’t keer Candace,” replied Mrs. The Reins Fell From His Hands. what you say; I don’t keer what you do; you can’t skeer me, an’ you can’t drive me. T'll see you bofe in torment, an’ go dar my- self befo’ I'll set down an’ see Jack Kilpat- rick lay dar an’ die! You hear dat, don’t you? Now, go on an’ do what you gwine ter do!” Here was defiance, revolt, insurrection and riot—and yet somehow Mrs. Kilpatrick and Flora felt relieved when the explosion came. Aunt Candace was very much in earnest, but it needed something of the kind to rouse mother and daughter from the stupor of helpless grief. They began to move about and set things to rights, and in a-little while all their faculties came back to them. The house girl returned with cold water and a towel, and Aunt Candace, entirely recovered from her out- burst of anger, said to Flora: “Ef you want ter do sump’in’, honey, set on de side er de bed here an’ fol’ dis towel up, an’ dip it in de water, an’ wring it out, an’ lay it on yo’ brer’s forrerd. Hol’ yo’ han’ on it, an’ soon as you feel it gittin’ warm, dip it in de water, an’ wring it out, an’ put it back agin. An’ make dat gal change de water off an’ on.” With that Aunt Candace waddled out into the kitchen, where she busied herself mak- ing preparattons for the decoctions she in- tended to brew from the red oak and dog- wood bark which Plato had been sent after. To those in the house Plato seemed to be making a good long stay at the branch, but Plato was doing the best he could. He had so much confidence in his mammy’s skill and experience, and was so anxious in be- half of his young master, that he took pains in selecting the trees from which he ‘was to chop the bark. And then he was very particular as to the quality of the bark; and, in order that in her remarks that caused him to return in _a run. In fact, Aunt Candace had infused new energy into everybody about the place. The little negroes that usually swarmed about the yard prudently went to play in the barn, but they were careful not to make a noise that would pi on an errand. The plantation Ine chest was ransacked in search of something, Mrs. Kij- Tilt nuss Jack Kilpatrick.. An’ ‘twon’t be de fust time I've nuss’d ‘im all by myse’f jer.’ Scolding and domineering, Aunt Candace went ahead with her brewing, and, in a little while, had a crock of dogwood ‘bark tea ready, as well as a red oak bark poultice. Her remedies were simple, but she had the greatest faith in them. She applied the poultice to the wound on the shattered collarbone, and compelled Jack to drink a tumblerful of the dogwood bark tea. The dose was a heroic one, and bitter in proportion. To a certain extent both remedies were efficacious. ‘The poultice was @ cooling astringent, and the tea allayed the fever—for somewhere in the dogwood tree, between root and blossom, there lies the active principle of quinine. Jack fell into a deep sleep, from which he was aroused by one of those remarkable events that could have occurred in no country but the American republic. : mL When Plato started back to the house from the spring branch, where he had been chipping the red oak and dogwood bark, he was in such a hurry that he forgot his ax, and when he wanted ‘it again a few hours afterward he hunted all over the yard for it until he suddenly remembered that he had left it where he had been chopping the bark. He started after it, but as he was going down the spring branch he heard a clatter in the road to the left, and, looking in that direc- tion, saw two federal cavalrymen galloping by. “Ah-yi!l” he exclaimed, as if by that means he could find vent for surprise, and slipped behind a tree. The day was raw and drizzly, and there was no movement on the plantation. The negroes were in their cabins, the horses were in their stables, the mules were standing quietly under the long shed in the lot, and even the sheep that were in the ginhouse pasture | were huddled together under shelter, nib- bling at a pile of waste cotton seed. The riders were couriers, and Plato, observing them, saw that they did not pursue the “IT’S KAZE MILK DON’T TURN cur. It is the unexpected that happens, and it happened in this instance. O’Halio- of humor glistening in bis It chanced that Aunt Candace the door in response to:the summons. She opened it wide wttm a sfrown on her face, but when she sawsthe federal soldier loom- ing up she threw up her:hands with a loud : o> @ “My Gawd! Dey! goti us! Dey got us!” Then recovering ‘fiersdjf somewhat, she planted herself in the doorway. 'G'way fum here! G’way fum' here, I tell you! Dey ain't nobody on de place but wimmen an’ children, nohow! Go on off, man! Den't you hear me?” i isy, aisy! Will ye be aisy now?” says O’Halioran, when he could get in a word edgewise. “Where's the lady?” “What? you want wid her?” cried Aunt Candace. “G’way fum here!” She stood like a tiger at bay. At that moment Mrs. Kilpatrick appeared in the hallway. The sight of the soldier in blue paralyzed all her faculties except memory of the fact ‘that her son lay wounded not forty feet away. Making a supreme effort ai self-control, she stood before the biz Irfetimsn with white faces and clasped hands. Something in her at- titude touched the soldier. He bent low be- fore her. “No harm to you, mum, beggin’ your pardon. Oi says to a nagur in passin’, “Whose iligant place is this? ‘The Kil- patrick place’ says he. ‘Upon me soul, says Ol, ‘’twil be no harm for to call in an’ see the b'y. How is he, mum?” “Do you know my son?’ Her-voice was so harsh and strained that she hardly rec- ognized it. The big Irishman had no ‘need to answer. The door through which the lady had entered the hall'was thrown open and a weak voice called out: “If that is O'Halloran, iet him come in.” ‘vo 'BLOOD.” road to the village, but turned off squarely to the right. For Sherman had already begun his famous march to the sea. He had begun it, indeed, before the little skir- mish in which Jack Kilpatrick had been ‘wounded, and, though Plato had no know!- edge of the fact, he traveled with his young master for fifteen miles between the paral- lel lines of the advancing army, Slocum’s corps being one of the lines and Howard’s corps another. Ignorant of this fact, Plato was very much surprised to see the federals riding by. “Dey er pursuin’ right on atter us,” he remarked aloud. “‘A little mo’ an’ dey’d ‘a’ cotch us, sho. An’ dey may ketch us yit. Kaze Marse Jack can’t hide out, an’ I know mighty well I ain’t gwine nowhar whiles Marse Jack got ter stay.” He turned back and went to the big house; but once there he remembered his ax and started after It again. He found it where he had left it. He picked it up and flung it across his shoul- der. As he raised bis head he saw a big federal soldter sitting on a horse fifty yards away watching him intently. “Name er Gawd!” he exclaimed. He stared at the scldier, undecided whether to run or whether to stand where he was. Then he saw the soldier beckoning to him, and he made a great pretense of hurrying for- ward. “"Tis the rame of the place I’m afther,” said the soldier. “Suh?” exclaimed Plato. “Who lives in the ‘house ferninst us’ “Ole Miss an’ Miss Floe,” replied Plato. “Ah, to the divvle wit’ ye!’ exclaimed the old soldier impatiently. “’Tis the name O’im axin’ ye.” “Dis de Kilpatrick place, suh. “Where's the wounded Johnny? “Who? Merse Jack?” inquired Plato, cau- tiously. “What make you ax dat? Marse Jack ain’t never hurted you, is he?” “Is he kilt intirely?” the soldier persisted, misled by the serious aspect of the negro’s countenance, “How you know he been hurted?” Plato asked. “I seen ‘Im whin the ball pasted ’im,” replied the soldier, with a careless toss of his _kead. ‘‘Where’ve ye tuck 'im?” “What you gwine do wid ‘im when you fin’ ‘im? You ain’t gwine ter take ‘im ter prigon ner nothin’ er dat kin’, is you?” “Listen at the gab "im!" exclaimed the soldier impatiently. the Johnny dead?” “Who? Marse Jack? No, suh, He hurt- ed mighty bad, but he ain't daid yit. Ain't ‘you one er dem ar gentermens what I seed tradin’ wid Marse Jack an’ de yuthers out dar twix de camps?” “Upon me soul, ye're a long time makin’ that out. Oi’m that same peddler.” Plato’s honest face broadened into a grin. “Marse Jack up dar at de house,” he sald. in a confidential tone. “Ef his min’ done come back I speck he'd be mo’ dan glad to see you. But I'm skeer’d ter kyar you up dar, kaze I dunner what ol’ Miss an’ Miss Filoe an’ mammy’!l say. “Trust me for that same,”’ remarked the soldier, “Take me down this fince, will ye, an’ tell 'em at the house that Private O'Halloran av the sharpshooters has taken the liberty for to call on the lad.” The negro proceeded to make a gap in the worm fence, remarking as he did so: “I be bless’ ef I don’t b’lieve dat ar nag what you er settin’ on is Marse ‘Lisha Perryman’s saddle hoss.”” “Like as not,” said Private O'Halloran, calmly. “Man! won't he rip an’ rar when he miss dat ar hoss? Ef ‘twuz me, an’ I had tooken dat ar hoss, I'd be gallopin’ out’n de county by dis time. Kaze Marse 'Lisha is de mos’ servigrous white man in deze parts. He mighty nigh ez servigrous ez ol’ marster use to be in his primy days. I'm tellin’ you de neked trufe, man! Private O'Halloran laughed by way of reply as he rode through the gap Plato had made in the fence. “Orn up an’ put me two eyes on ‘im, said O'Halloran, as he turned his horse's head toward the house, ‘an’ see the look av *im be the time the twintieth army corps comes trudgin’ by.” another “Tig that same,” replied the federal soldier with a smile. But he waited for the lady to lead the way, and then followed her. On the bed lay Jack Kilpatrtok, and near the fifeplace stood his sister Flora, statuesque and scornful. O'Halloran bowed to her as politely as he knew how, but her lip curled disddinfully, and an. ex- pression of ‘perplexity crept into the smil- ing face of the Irishman; but this quickly changed to one of genuine pleasure when he caught sight of young Kilpatrick's face. “Why, ye're as snug as a bug in a +e exclaimed O'Halloran cheerily. me ich paw shall I squeeze? The lift? Well, ‘tis nearest the gizzard. Ah! but ’twas a close shave yé had, me b'y. Of seen ye comin’ betwixt the lines, an’ says O1, ‘Pwhat the divvle ails the lad? ’Twas the very word O4 said. Oi seen ye roll in the saddle, an’ thin Oi put me rifie to me shoulder. Says O1, ‘If the nag runs wild an’ the lad falls an’ his fut hangs, Of'll fetch the cracher down.’ But divvle a run—beggin’ pardon of the ladie. An’ so ye're here, me b’y, more worried than hurt!” Jack Kilpatrick was really glad to see his friend, the enemy, and sald so as heart- ily as he could. O'Halloran drew a chair by the bed, and, in the midst of his talk, which was as cheerful as he could make it, studied the young confederate’s condition. He made the wounded man fill his lungs with air several times, and placed his ear close to the expanding chest. Then he sat twirling his thumbs and looking at the bed quilt, which was home-made and of a cur- fous pattern. Finally he turned to Mrs. Kilpatrick with a more serious air than he had yet displayed. “He wants a surgeon, mum. "Tis an aisy case wit’ a surgeon standin’ ‘roun’ an’ puckerin’ his forrerd; Oi've seen 'em do’t many’s the toime. Wan surgeon in the nick ay teime is like to do more good than forty docthers at a funer’l.” “We can get no surgeon; that ts out of the question,” said the lady curtly and positively. Once more O'Halloran fell to studying the pattern of the quilt. He even went so far as to count the pieces in one of the figures. Flora and her mother resented this asa piece of impertinence and moved restlessly ‘about the room. “That is what they call the broken stove lid,” explained Jack, seeing the big Irish- ans apparent interest in the quilt pat- ern. “Now is that so?” said O'Halloran. “U; me sow! it looks as if the whole chimley had toombled down on top ay it. Faith! Oi havo it!” he exclaimed with a laugh. “Of'll rope in the chap that drinched me the same as if Oi was a sick horse. "Twill be somethin‘ trayminjous, upon me sowl! He’s a oloomin’ pillmaker from western New Yorruk.” The big Irishman paused and hugged Pimself with his Samson-like arms as he bent over with laughter. “Bedad, ‘twill be the joke of the day!” he exclaimed. “'Tis all laid out as Plain as the nose on me face. D'ye mind this now, me b’y: ‘Tis no Kilpatrick ye are, for ye’ve thried to kill me many’s the odd time. Ye're from Hornellsville—mind that, now; upon me sowl, ’tis the nub av the whole bloomin’ business.” “Where's Hornelisville?” asked Jack. “In Yorruk state, bedad. Yo'’re Cap’n Jarvis av Horgellsville. “Ye know the Finches an’ the Purvises, but ye're too wake fer to argy till he fixes ye fotne an’ doses ye.” Mrs. Kilpatrick uttered a protest that would have been, indignant, but for her apprehensions in, regard to Jack. “He's a darlin’ of & surgeon, mum,” ex- clane as a hé an’ smilin’ as a basket av chips. ‘Twill be'fio Harm to him for to fix an’ dose ye. days av fixin’ will Two it zeene an’ then he kin ketch his rig: te he “Scoop him up and fetch him in,” said Jack, ane to the‘thother and ts iter made no serious:o! , Bitter as their werei - 3 ie i cfetifede ietaltiee EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1898-24 PAGES. NOTES OF THE NAVY Chance Meetings After Many: Years of Separation. JACK LIKES HIS TOBACCO STRONG Arduous Labors of the Apothecaries on Board Ship. TO PUNISH MALINGERING Written for The Evcning Star. HANCE MEETINGS - after many years of separation between Officers and enlisted Men of the United States army and mavy are of com- mon occurrence in Washington. Such meetings are almost always of the friend- liest character. For the time the line of demarkation existing between officer and man is erased and forgotton in the mutual enjoyment of a service chat over old hap- penings, when officer and man were ship- mates or companion campaigners. There was an interesting meeting of this sort on F street a few days ago. A machinist of the old navy, still in the service and on leave from the “guardo” Vermont, the re- ceiving ship at the Brooklyn navy yard, was just turning into F street from 14th, when he heard a voice behind him calling out his name: Turning about, he beheld a portly, elderly, fine-looking man, accom- panied by a handsome middle-aged lady, puffing up to him. “Casey,” said the panting man to the ma- chinist, “‘what are you running for? I'd give a year’s pay if I could get over ground like that. Where've you been for the past twenty years or so, anyhow?” The speaker was a well-known chief en- gineer of the navy, now on duty in Wash- ington. Casey, the machinist, had, in the engine room phrase, ‘learned this chief en- gineer the difference between a circulat- ing pump and a crosshead guide’ when the latter was a middy at Annapolis, over three decades ago, and after the officer and man had made two cruises together, go- ing practically around the world both times, they had been separated and had not been shipmates nor seen each other for more than twenty years. They had not stood on a platform together since the old compound engines were used, and both had got to be vigorous elderly men. Yet they remembered each other perfectly. When the old-time machinist made his ragged salute, “Oh, bother all that,” said the chief engineer. “Let me present you to my wife, Casey.” Casey executed a scrape. “Oi remimber th’ lady at Annapolis,” said he, “whin ye used t’ be takin’ her t’ th’ hops, before ye were married. Sure, she hasn’t changed at all.” “Casey, stop it!’ said the chief engineer, with a sly look at his silver-haired wife, who was blushing with pleasure at the old chief petty officer’s blarney. Then the chief engineer dragged his old-time ship- mate into one of the parlors of the Ebbitt House, and for half an hour the two men sat on a sofa, taiking over their early days in the service, before quadruple expansion engines and triple screws were dreamed of. The enlisted men of the navy are com- plaining a good deal of the tobacco that has been served out to them by the pay- masters during the past two or three years. They claim that it is far below the Standard of other days for navy plug. The bureau of supplies investigates this com- Plaint of the quality of the navy tobacco every once in a while, and usually ascer- tains that the complaints originate among the still large body of ‘4 feet” forward in the United States navy, who mourn the passing of the old wooden ships and de- clare that the navy is nothing like what it used to be in the days of “the old Ticoon.” The navy tobacco is served out to the men in pound plugs each month. They may draw as much of it as they choose. They inform the officer of their divisions each month how many plugs they figure on consuming during the coming month. Sometimes these individual requisitions call for so many plugs as to excite suspicion, for the bluejacket is not aloné in his fond- ness for the navy tobacco when it is at its best, and when paymasters are complais- ant the sailors. often make a good thing of it by selling the extra tobacco they trake requisition for to men ashore who are fond of a strong smoke or chew, at about twice the government rate for it. There are numerous representatives and several senators who use nothing but navy plug, which they get through the good of- fices of their paymaster friends. Sliced up with a jackknife and rubbed fine between the palms for the pipe, a smcke of navy plug is a somewhat difi- cult experience for the man who is not used to it. The tobacco Is about as black as stove pipe and intensely strong, and few bluejackets can become thoroughly ac- customed to its use within the space of one cruise. Even tobacco chewers of long prac- tice make slow progress in the use of navy plug. Once the navy plug habit has been thoroughly acquired, however, it is rarely left off. Old-timers in the navy have supreme contempt for all other kinds o} tobacco except that served out by the pay- masters, but their plaints are loud and pro- longed when they imagine the quality of the tobacco is deteriorating. “‘Hay” is the term they apply to the granulated and long-cut tobacco used by shore folks, and they call the plug tobacco of the civilian chewer “licorice.” The younger class of bluejackets in the new navy are, about eight out of ten of them, addicted to the cigarette habit. Navy surgeons of large experience declare that the cigarette-smoking bluejackets are only able to endure about half the amount of hardship that pipe-smoking man-o’-war’s- men undergo without any signs of fatigue or breakdown. The apothecaries of the United States ar3 earnestly hoping for early and favorable action on the bill for the reorganization of the navy, for the bill provides for the ele- vation of many of ths apothecaries from the rank of chief petty officers to that of wurrant Officers. As the enlisted force of the navy is constituted at present. an apothecary in the navy is ranked by all the chief petty officers of the line and by most of the chief petty officers of the staff. His pay, $60 a month, is the same as that f a yeoman, and but little more than that of a chief bo’sun’s mate or a chief gun- ner’s mate, and, at best, a chief petty offi- cult examination as apothecary in the navy, the candidata must not only be a first-rate pharmacist, but he is required tu be a gcod deal of a medical man besides. He mest be a man of excellent general ed- cation, cool, clear-hsaded, temperate and thoroughly reliable. The value yt] 5 le. modern man-of-war practically the ony. duty of the ship’s surgeon is the ex- of such — as present them- selves for di allme: Chronic headache is another by the malingerer who wishes to escape duty or obtain his dis- charge from the service. No surgeon can declare with positiveness that a man hasn't got a headache if the man declares he has, for cases of continued headache, without any apparent cause for it, are weil known to medical science. Another common meth- od of malingerers who merely wish to get their names on the sick list for a couple of Gays is the eating of bits of common bar seep, which acczlerates the action of the heart to a dangerous degree, but accom- plishes the shirker’s purpose. There was a jandsman on a ship in the Pacific fleet a few years ago who took to the constant eating of small slivers of wood for th2 pur- pose of making himself sick, in order to procure his discharge from the service, with @ pension attachment. He got out of the service all right by going over the side of Lis ship, s2wed in his hammock, with a twenty-pound shot tied to his legs. He died from appendicitis. Men who are anxious to get out of the service often affect a par- tial impairment of their vision. As army and navy surgecns are not, as a rule, treined oculists, and are therefore unable to detect the hypocrisy, this scheme goes through more often than not. There are at present no stated forms of punishment for mallngerers, but there probably will bs before very long. ———————— ART AND ARTISTS. At the meeting of the Water Color Club held Saturday afternoon, at Miss Perrie’s studio, Mr. Carl Weller as chairman of the executive committee made his formal re- Port on the successful results of the recent exhibition. A committee was appointed consisting of Messrs. Moss, Child and Gibbs, who should confer with the representatives of the American Art Federation, which has 4ts headquanters at Philadelphia. Dr. Francis Ransom Lane and Mrs. Alice Bar- ney were elected to membership. Amend- ments to the constitution were adopted, providing that members who fail to pay their dues for a year, as well as those who, without satisfactory excuse, fail of attend- ing at least three meetings during the sea- son, be dropped from the roil of member- ship. Mr. Mann and a committee were au- sees to revise the constitution of the club. = * The statue of the late Senator Kenna, which was placed in statuary hall in tho Capitol a short time ago, has been the sub- Ject of some adverse comment, all of which is rather premature in view of the fact that Mr. Alexander Doyle, the sculptor, has not given it the finishing touches. ‘he criti- ciem of the expression is especially hasty, as Mr. Doyle has not completed the face, but hes merely placed the figure in position in order that he might finish it with a more intelligent understanding of the final effect. He himself says, on this point: “As it stands it is practically yet in my studio. The light in the hall in the for the placing of these statues is so treach- erous that I did not care ner, ex-Governor McCorkle and Mr. John T. McGraw. ** A meeting of the Society of ‘Washington Artists was held on Tuesday evening at the new gallery, the attendance being unusually large. The chief question to be settled was the date of the annual spring exhibition, and the society voted to receive the ple- tures on March 19, and to open the exhibit on March 28. Pictures from New York, Philadelphia and other cities are expected, and the exhibit, which has been an import- ant event in the art life of Washington in past years, promises to be doubly so with the improved facilities which the society now has at its disposal. After February 19 entry blanks can be secured at the gai- lery. The members heve decided to fit up the front hall of the gallery as a reading room, where art magazines and other liter- ature may be found, and cards will be is- sued to the associate members, who, it is hoped, will avail themselves of this Drivil- ege. A resolution was offered calling for More frequent meetings of the society at the gallery, gatherings in which the mem- bers should come together in a social and fraternal way. Mrs. Barney was elected @n active member on Tuesday evening and five new associate members wera added to the society's list. Beginning on Wednes- day next the S. W. A. will hold a small mid- winter exhibition of the work of its own members. Works previously exhibited will be eligible, and no limit will be set on the number of pictures each arti = perce! Di ist may con: x * Visitors to Mr. Parker Mann's annual —===="=slh==——————=SsSsTs=s=s=sa aod sitter’ raya cut canon Plow, med ntanove has rare faculty of busts seem almost alive, and he seldom fails to infuse animation and expression in- to his portraits. In his bust of Senator Hi ‘and in the likeness of Mrs. Hutchins the sculptor is seen to very good advantage, though the two heads first men- tioned may perhaps be exemplifying his ability. Some time in Signo: tanove plans to go to y c iiwaukee, in which city his work is well known, through the busts he has made of @ score of her prominent citizens. = ae > Mr. Percy Parsons, an English water cclor artist of high repute at home, hes been staying in Washington during the past week or two, with his wife. Their visit to this country has been rather as pleasure seekers than in a professional capacity, but Mr. Parsons brought with him a portfolio of his drawings that b - fully illustrate some of the most charm- ing scenery in England, Wales and Scot- land, a number of which will remain h in the hands of our best known collect and connoisseurs. Mr. Parsons was a graduate of the Kensington Art School, and also a pupil of the late Sir Frederick Leighton. x * Mr. W. H. Chandlee’s new things includo a water color of a landscape with a wind- mill, executed in the Dutch manner, with a delightful color scheme, and some little figure sketches, also in water color. One of these is of a man in full Spanish costume, very well done, and showing particularly good action. In another landscape, a sketch of a bit of woodland, Mr. Chandlee has used gray paper and white chalk with suc- cessful results. * = A good opportunity is op2n for local pho- tographers in the competition in pho- tography which is to be one of the new features of the exhibition in New York this spring of the National Sculpture So- ciety. Beside the usual works of sculpture, the society expects to show this year a collection of photographs of sculpture in America, which will include not only statues, reliefs, busts, etc., but also com- memorative monuments and architectural monuments with sculpture. The competi- tion is open to both amateur and prof-s- siong! photographers, and, in order to arouse interest and call out a representa- tive collection, a first and second prize of $50 and $25, respectively, will be awarded, besides diplomas of merit to other com- petitors. Since Washington is so sich in monuments and other works of sculpture ecming within the scope of this competi- tion, it should stimulate photographers to contribut> a fuli share to this collection, All photographs sent for cxhiblffon are to become the property of the society, ande mvst be delivered at the galleries of the American Fin? Arts Society, 215 West 57th Street, New York city, April 25 and 26. The exhibition opens April 30, and con- Uinues for two weeks. Washington Ip- tors intending to exhibit should bear in mind that the applications for entry should be sent in by March 1 to the secretary, Mr. Barr Ferree, 112 Wali street, who will furnish circulars and blank entry form on application. x A painting by Fritz Thaulow is the most impressive of the new canvases at Fisch- er’s, and it sustains his reputation as a skillful painter of running water. He has depicted a narrow mill race, and there is an indescribable fascination in the move- ment of the eddying water a= it hurries pest. This work of Thaulow’s has not the artistic feeling which on finds in the Poetic landscape by Francis Murphy, hang- ing near it, but fe immeasurably bolder in style, and a more virile, if a more literal interpretation of nature. Among the other new canvases are the suggestive little landscape by Constable and several Italian figure compositions. There will shortly be an exhibition of pictures by Miss Elizabeth Nourse at Fischer's, a collection which will include fifteen wat=r colors of sub- jects found in Tunis and Algiers, and pere heaps an equal number of works in oil. * ** Closely following the award of the Tem- ple gold medals at the Pennsylvania Acad- emy of Fine Arts, com>s the announce- ment of the award of the Lippincott prize to James J. Shannon, for the canvas “Babes in the Wood.” It will be remem- bered that the artist captured the first priz> at the recent Pittsburg exhibition. ‘The Temple gold medals were awarded to Milton Lockwood for his “Violinist,” and to Edward T. Rook for his canvas entitled “Pearl Clouds—Moonlight.” * x + Mr. Lucien Powell's interesting exhibition of water colors, which has been on view this week at Veerhoff's, will probably con- tinue a few days longer, and will be suc- ceeded by a collection of aquare! from Ecwin Lamsure’s clever brush. — es The Noble Ri: ian Language. From the London Telegraph. Turgentev, the great Russian novelist, de- clared, in the glow of patriotic fervor, that 80 noble a tongue as his could not be spoken by @ mean-spirited race. Lecturing before the members of the Anglo-Russian Literary Society at the Imperial Institute, Mr. Alexander Kinloch expressed scarcely less admiration of the Slavonic language. Apart from the Russians’ claim to possess one of the most musical tongues in Europe, Mr. Kinloch declared that the grammatical system was remarkable for ts precision, and that the declensions and inflexions | made the sentences riore readable than those of German. Mr. Kinloch’s views ap- exhibition have come to expect in each one | Peared to be shared by all the other speak- & distinct advance over its Predecessor, and they will in no way be disappointed in the collection of pictures which he Dieces on view on Monday at Fischer’s gallery. His steady progress is visible in every canvas, and hand in hand with his increased tech- nical skill is a keener perception and a deeper insight into nature a many moods. The pictures that he will show are aimost all pastel, as he has almost entirely abandoned oil for this more rapid and di- rect medium. The motives for his pastels Were largely obteined Bod neighborhood a of his summer cottage Gloucester, Mass., and the collection is especially Teh in moorland subjects. a Ea 5 Mr. Theodore Simson, who is a new- comer in Washington, showed his work to & number of friends at an informal little reception which he held on Wednesday evening in his studio in the Sun building. Perhaps the most striking pieces of sculp- ture in the studio, even in its unfinished state, was the nude female figure typify- ing Truth. She stands upon a sphere, sym- belizing the world, and holds in one hand a mirror, while with the other, which is gracefully outstretched, she is strewing flowers. Another partly completed work which claims attention is a composition sketch in low relief, the figures being ex- cellently grouped. A portrait bust whica he is working on nig his faculty for seizing a seme of the most attractive pieces from his such as the ers. Mr. Marchant asserted that Russian was a key to the othcr Siavonic languages, one of which, Bulgarian, he regarded as at present im a state of flux, what with hopelessly confused inflexions and the free admixture of Persian and Turkish words. — =