Evening Star Newspaper, April 30, 1898, Page 20

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, APRIL 30, 1898-24 PAGES. CHAPTER IT. Apartment to Let. Yolette, standing at the door of the bird store, with her arm around Hiide’s waist, and one hand shading her face, coujd see the exhausted infantry tramping through in- the Porte Rouge, between the steadily creasing throngs of people. The crowd at first was silent, but grav attentive. Little by Mttle, however, they realized what it meant; they began to un derstand that this eniry of Blanchard’s di- vision from Mezieres, intact, was nothing less than the first actual triumph for French strategy since tae Uhlan vanguard galloped over the frontier and the Prussian | needle guns cracked acrors the Spicheren | in the early days of August. For, when | Bleachard’s division of Vinoy’s 1th Corps stole out of Mezieres at dawn on Septem- ber 2. 1870, with the furnace breath of Sedan in their faces and the German cav- alry at their heels, nobody, not even Gen. Vinoy himseif, dared hope to turn a re- treat into victory or to bring back one soldier out of ten under the guns of Paris. Yet now it was done. On September 5 Blanchard’s division joined Maud’huy’s at Laon, and the 13th Corps was reunited. And here they were; it was Guilhem’s bri- gade, the 6th Hussars and the 42d and 35th line infantry that surged in at the Porte Rouge, drums beating, beating, beating, through the ptlsating dust waves, bay- cnets erimsoned by the red level rays of the setting sun. Suddenly on the forts of Issy, Vanv Montrouge and Biceire the g boomed r welcome to the troops t after fort took up the bastion after bastion 1 from the @Irvy to the ry of the Deubie Crown and fr Fontenoy to the Fortress of th t. the thunder rolled in one maj | reverberation, dominated by thi mendous shocks from Mont Valerien. When the from tne si had cea se Wav wet and matted. sound r further aw Where have they gon leavis » nothing | “Into that dark aliey. Do you want to but tke Md on, man, don't tumble a sentime ve you an arm. Are you bad- heart in Jove! 1 believe you ar At the Porte F Pm ail right. THT just go now: Parnas i sit down a moment. Is there a tom nd, and my head? fea - x from Luxember ‘Come over to that : little cold w: north He slung the bridles of both horse of Mava'huy's divisie’ along | his left elbow right the Avent la Grands 2 » to the bird SS ie tte stood watching ente eters sounding at constern the crowd by We said Harewor “there * ic g. and are our ttle friends of the voices blasted’ tiers ani tear at Yolette recognized them as they reached were raised to the hard, bright sky, burn-| the sidew took one hesitating ished with a fiercer radt where the | step forward. leans i hung over the smoking Mendon woods | shoulder and fixed her frighte a disk of polished coppe | Harewood. That young man wa “And so after all they had returned. this | that he could only accomplish the how h army given up fer lost. They had return- | attempred by holding on yarke, Bourke ed si he flames in the north, stain- | took off his hat and asked for. water. Yo- n rain and mud and dust. rving, reeling under the weight of their knapsacks and rifles, but saved from annihilation. Paris forgot everything except that—fe got the red trafl of butchery from Forb: to Metz: forgot the smoking debris of ba tles lost and battles worse than lost: for-| got Strassbourg, crumbling under German | shells: forgot Metz, drenched with biood, cowering under the specter of famine; for- got Toul and Belfort and the imbecile 1 reuvers of an ironclad fleet—all this w forgotten in the joy of the moment. What if three German armies were even then on the march toward Paris? Paris would Le | res Paris would arm: nothing should | withstand her; nothing could penetrate he cuirassed armor ef enormous fort forts strung outside the walls on a circ of lesser redoubts and batteries sixty kil meters in circumference. A necklace steel, a double necklace, for inside the rini of forts lay the city fortifications prope the enormous enciente forty-one kilometers long encircling the city from th ine to | the Marne. The | bastions moun of 15 and 12, and ever ‘Ei-ton ma- | rine monsters of 1% It The } had heard their voices from Moat V } setting the whole city rocking w welcome to t earthquake of their », And how the Yolette le: nd saw a pi p sun's list throngs cheered! and re coming—t s here,” cried Hilde. “Look, Y : “E see.” said Yolette unsteady at, m going to get all ovr | three bottles of win ropped her sister's hand ran | through the shop to the kitchen, talk- | ing all the while excitedly to herself. | “Quick! : F th win i 38 three glas: now the of it—now a little basket—ah Oh, there y yche In you, too. of our brave so! where is my little basket? are, and there ts a br shall be eaten by ¢ die Scheherazade, the lioness, sprawl- Ing on a rug in the small square parlor, blinke miably up into Yolette’s flushed | xirl stupped and gave her a u It Th kiss in passing—then ran out wit the basket, closing the door quickly beh her. | The street was a turmoil. A torrent of | dust flooded with sunset light rolled and €ddied above the red caps of the passin! troops. Strange timid eyes sought he stran: rose up before her and | pas out in the whirls of ertmsone ars sprang to her €yes: she could not speak, but she held out her basket to the passing troops; a soldie somewhere in the throng cried, “Is th wine for us, madam?” and another close beside her wiped the red wine from his lips with the sleeve of a stained overce paged the bottle to a comrade, laughing from shee akness. “Our poor jers! Our p repented I holding to ¥ “See! Look! Everybody is t bread do wine But you first, Yolette; you thought of it darling!” Yelette saw nothing distinctly in the round, but from every side spectral faces appeared through the dust, sad, boyish ¢ us they met hers—xrimy hands reached out ad of a drop of wine. i.run back to the kitch- en and returned with a big china bowl, into a she poured their last bottles of wi! now the bowl passed from lip to lip itil It was lost to sight in the dust cloud. “Everyboc bringing bread and wine— look, Yolette,” cried H “oh, the poor the poor sick things! Do you be- ry will all get a little wine? There so many—so man3 ‘The bowl is empty, an Yolette, but st that moment the dust cloud wavered, grew thinner, whirled up in one last flurry a mounted officer galloped by, then | settled and sifted back into the Yolette watched the vanishing column down the street until the dust hid the last straggler and the tap, tap, tap of the drum died away. Hilde, standing beside her, Gried the tears from her cheeks. After a silence Yolette said: “If we are going to have war—here—near Paris—no- body will want to rent our apartment— “I don't know,” replied Hilde; “it is a very rice apartment and not at all dear.” Yolett> came back to the doorstep, touch- ing the corner of her apron to her eyes. Hilde pointed toward the fortifications across the street. “I mean that ff the Germans do come their cannon balls might fly over the ram- | part there and hit our house. j ne | wheeled at a gallop out of the rue Pandore, “For heaven's ke. ride that one-eyed fellow got a knife. The other spurs to his mount ant Mouse. That ornamental ba: icok to his heels, lung- ing out viciousiy with his knife as he passed the cismounted man, The latter slashed the Muase twice with his riding | crop. and. in turn, was felled by a blow | with a ciub wiclde the fat hands of 1 Bourke, hastily lis- he had to say in French. He stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the facade of sri ouse where the two signs hung. H partments to let,” he repeated aloud. P| Then a ‘+k him. “Harewood, } rtment to let direetly over our | ing to ask you to take me to a hotel. COPYRIGHT 856 Kecetar em canmates Perhaps no- bedy would care to take an apurtment : r the fortifications if they knew that. Mf course, we will explain the danger before accepting anybody's money,” sald Yolette, “but 1 do hope somebody may like the apartment. I dent know what we shall do if it is not rented by October. She stood a moment on the doorstep. thinking, saddened by the memory of the regiment that had just passed. Hilde clasped both hands behind her and looked up at the sky. It was not yet du: although the sun had gone down behind the blue forest of Mendon, but the fresh sweetness of twilight was in the air. Soft lighis lay acress the grassy glacis opposite; the shrubs on the talus moved in the even- ing breeze. Something else was moving over there, teo—three sinister figures, shuffling across the grass. The Mouse and his two famil- iars were going back to the passage de TrOmtre. As the Mouse passed he flourished his cap again and called across the street something about being p to the lagi but that speech had well nigh been his last, for just as the shadby trio start- ed to traverse the roadway two horsemen and cne of them into the arms of Mo; with a muffled shrie Mouse as he fell. There is a providence for drunkards; also Hermes, the god ef thfev ctherwise nothing could have ved Mouse end Bibi fiom the horses’ hoofs. The two riders drew bridle. wheeled, and turned to see what damage had been done, as the Mouse picked himself out of the dust with a frightful imprecation. hustled Bibi la Gouite Oncle. who collapsed k, dragging~down the the One of the horsemen, who had impul- sively dismounted, w immediately set upon by Bibi and Mon Oncle. Taken by surprise. he knocked them both flat with his loaded riding crop and, jumping back, called ov vurt you bi mbled to streaks on his feet face ser wo red leite, outwardly brought a basin of water, a towel and her own smel!- ing salts, while Hilde drazged out a chair and seated Harewood upon it. And now, the feminine instinct of con- solation being fully awakened in both Hilde and Yolette, Harewood was request- ed to smell the smelling salts, and rest in the chair, and sip a little brandy from a glas: he was bidden. Bour! expre: his obligations and Harewoo in sincere if not fluent terms. Hilde and Yolette said that he and Harewood were very welcome. After that Bourke was too diffident and Harewood too d continue conver! tion in the French -, So they were silent. Yolette tore kereh'ef and soa looked at Harew turned a’ She sufferir in the chair was heard-of agony. Bourke old feller that politene: in water, and d head. Hilde | could not bear to see them and she felt that the young man probably enduring un- Is, “How is it, » remembered him to say what setter required Yolette Was First to Give Them Wine hy . It's what we're looking for—good view from the fortifications, you know, and close to the Porte Rouge. What do you Shall I look at it?” “If you like,” said Harewood with an ef- fort. “Bourke, I believe—I believe I'm go- My poddle goes round and round, you know. I den't think I should care about riding out to St. Cloud tonight.” Bourke examired his comrade’s head anxious! : “We ave to ride back to the Luxem- bourg quarter to find a hotel,” he observed. “There are no hotels out here. Can you stand the jolting?” “Oh, yes,” replied Harewood. “If you choose,” continued Bourke, “we might take that apartment now—if it's fur- nished—and I could bundle you into bed and ride the horses back and have our traps sent up tomorrow.” He turned to Hilde and made his excuses for using English instead of French. “I do not speak French fluently; we were talking about the apartment which, I no- tice, is to rent on the top floor. Could you tell me where I might find the concierge or the landlord?” > “The landlord?” repeated Hilde: “why— why—I—and my sister are the landlords.” She smiled very prettily as she spoke. Yolette’s eyes brightened. Could it be that after all they were actually going to rent their apartment. “It is. furnished,” said Yolette, looking at Harewood. She spoke with reserve, but her heart AAvRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY ROBT W-CHAMBERS beat high and two spots of color deepened in her cheeks. “We would be very glad to rent it,” said Hilde, in a grave voice. “It is not at all dear, I think. She mentioned the price diffidently. “That, of course, includes heat, light and attendance,” added Yolette, turning to Harewood. “Gas?” asked Bourke. ‘8, monsteur. The fireplaces burn wood. “And the attendance?” curiously. “My sister and I—you see—we are the at- tendance,” said Yolette, without embar- rassment. “Will you show me the apartment now?” asked Bourke. “With pleasure, monsieur.”* He glanced at Harewood. Harewood nod- ded back. Hilde brought a lighted candle to the stairway, and Yolette took it, invit- ing Bourke with a gesture to follow. When they had gone away up the stairs Hilde returned to Harewcod and stood a asked Bourke, moment, silent. Presently she went out to SHE the street and caressed the They turned their ge heud, at her with dark, liquid eyes. ‘Are you fond of horses?” asked Hare- wood, sitting upright and touching the bandage on his throbbing hesd “I love all animals, She two horses znd looked bur head hurt very much?" ¥, no, thank you; it is nothing at After a moment she saic ought to tell uu, Monsieur, befere 4 decide to take artment, that there is one very se- whack to it.” rious d “What is that?” inquired H sently. rewood, ab- » Germans shouid come and the city, 1-1 fear that our Y much exposed.” Harewood 1 narrowly at the girl beside him. Her r brown eyes met his quite simply. that event, what would you do, demotsetle?” he asked. “I don’t know,’ she replied. rke came down the stairs, indle for Yolette. “It's very nic y nice, indeed,” d. “I think we ought to take it, Har wood—I do, indeed.” holding he arewood ut Bourke’ somewl of the charms of apartment in the quarter of Paris. Very well,” ne said, “we will take it. “But—but we must tell nethin; a awback to the beg: and then stopped. She was fearful that if the new tenants were warned of the from German shells they might re- ider the matter. But she was bound and she set her Hps reso- 1 at Hilde. id Harewood quietly, looking at mademoiselle means that we stand a chance of being shelled when the Germans come. Do you think that might awback, Bourke?” Pooh,” said ¢ latter briskly. “Come on, old fellow, I'l help you up to bed—and a jolly good bed it too—and then I'll cor in honor to tell. lutely and look: + the horses over to the Vaugirard. I'll be back in an hour.” Do—do you lly mean to take the @partment—now?”" asked Yolette, breath- With your permission,” said Harewood, % from his chair with a polite inclina- tion of his bandaged head. Hilde flushed with happiness. ‘Our permission,” repeated Yolette. “Oh, we are very, very glad to give it. And I hope, monsieur, you will like the house, and J hope that the cannon balls will not come at all. Bourke repressed a smile and said he hoped they wouldn't. Harewood added sertously: “T am sure we shall be delighted—even with the can- non balls.” Yolette ventured to smile a ttle; Hilde laughed outright. Bourke gave his arm to Harewood, saying good-night to Hilde and Yolette. When he had tucked Harewood to bed and tucked him in, he came down stairs again, two at a jump, and vaulted into his saddle. As he galloped toward the Rue de Vau- girard, leading Harewood’s horse, far away on the horizon a rocket mounted toward the stars, higher, higher, until the wake, showering the night with nebulous radi- ance, wavered, faded, and went out. And as he looked, another rocket whizzed up- ward from the Point-du-Jour, leaving a double trail of incandescent dust crowned with clustered lights, which drifted east- ward and went out, one by one. Then night blotted the last live sparks from the sky. Bourke turned in his saddle. Over the forts of the south the rim of a crimson disk appeared—a circle of smolder- ing fire, slowly rising like a danger signal, red as blood. It was the harvest moon of September. CHAPTER Iv. The House on the Ramparts. The sun was shining through the blinds when Harewood awoke. He lay quite still examining his new surroundings, trying to remember where he was. The bandage on his head had stiffened. He untied it, and was gratified to discover that no serious gemagp had been accomplished by Mon mele. As he lay there, winking amiably in the sunlight, he heard somebody tramping about in the next room. Without moving he opened his mouth and called: “Bourke!” “Hello!” came the answer. “What time is it?” “Half-past 7. I’m nearly dressed.” “Is today Saturday?’ STOOD LOOKING DOWN “Saturday, 10th of September, 1870,” re- pl Bourke. A moment-later he appeared at ‘ e door and inquired;¢‘How's your nod- dle?” > . “All right,” yawged Harewood. “How's your own?” ice Bourke sat down at the foot of the bed and buttoned his collar, whistling gayly. “I saw Shannon and Malet last night,’ he said. “I met them-on the Boylevard Montparnasse afte# I stabled the horses. They are coming this morning. I asked them to wire Stauffer and Speye: “Go on ae Harewood sniffed, i “Stauffer seems to be, all_ right,” served, “but I can’t stand Speyer. “I don’t like Speyer any better than you do, but we can’t leave him out of a con- ference. What we've got to do is to hold a conference. Ive tglegraphed Winston and Sutherland; the whole trowd is to meet here at 10 o'clock this ‘morning.” Har oad rubbed his batteréd head thought- fully. “As for me,” continued Bourke, “I know what I shall say.” “What?” “This. I'm going to say in Paris. The Times has sent me out to get all the news I can, and get it as soon as I can.” “And transmit it as soon as you get it.” “Exactly.” “Which you can’t do if you're cooped up in Paris. You'd better come to St. Cloud.” “Nobody is going to be cooped up in Paris. The fighting will be done here, and the fellows who leave Paris will miss the whole show. You will be badly fooled, my son, {f you let Winston or old Sutherland persuade you to leave Paris. “Shannon and Malet won't stay.” “Yes they will. I don’t care what Speyer does—I hope he gets out. But, Jim, your precious Hoston Tribune won't thank you for leaving Paris just as the orchestra is tuning up for the overture.” , “But,” persisted the other, “if we make our headquarters at St. Cloud or Versailles we can see the entire circus and also have the wires when we want them.” “No, we can't,” replied Bourke. he ob- ed AT HAREWOOD, Paris is surrounded hy the German armies, v iNes will lie directly in the path of Your instructions and mine wih the French army. How » Bo to Versailles?” aid Ijarewood, “I want to hear what the other fellows say, and that ought to cu Some weight with you, too,” he added. “Eve big journal in New York will be represented.” “And some little one “Oh, you mean Spe Bourke nodded and rose. “Come, jump up,” he said; “here's your tub. Thad all our things brought over last night. Shall I pour the water in? There you are. Now, hurry, and J forgot to. tell u that I have made arrangements to take our meals in the house. It saves time.” Harewood looked up at him. “Yes; it saves time. Where do we take our akfast, for example? With our hostesses?” too. “Down stairs, of course,” said Bourke, briskly. “It will be ready ‘before you are. Get up.” He went into his own room, whistling, and Harewood sprang out of bed and looked at his maltre: mirror. Lucky it wasn’t my nose,’ since I'm to breakfast with yoting ladles, When he had bathed and dressed and stood again before the looking glass, part- ing and reparting his hair, Bourke came and stood in the doorway. He was par- ticularly well groomed and evidently aware of it, “The one,” said H mathematically equal diy “the one with the dark ted head in the he reflected, wood, making a ision of his hair— % you know— what is her name, Bourk “Hilde,” said Bourke, reflectively. Hilde—what? “Hilde gotten.” 1s she the older or the younger?” hey’re twins.”” How the devil did you find that all out?” I don’t know,” said Bourke, sincerely; really 1 don’t know. Somehow or other they told me. I saw them last night when I came back from the Vaugirard. We stood chatting on the stairs. You were asleep up here.” There wi a silence. spoke up, impatiently. halais. Don't pretend you've for- Then Harewood “Well, what did know. The whole thing is funny, anyway. It seems we are living over a bird store. They told me the story. Do you want to hear it?” Go & “Well, it appears that those two young girls have been keeping house here for a year. Before that their uncle kept it. His name was Chalais. He was erratic, I be- lieve—a sort of soured savant. Anyway, he died a year ago, and these two girls had to leave their convent school and come here and run the place. I gus they haven't i ny too much money. lieve old Chalais left nothing but debts and birds and a few curses for the government that re- fused him a berth. Two young German students had this apartment for several months, but they left without paying their rent, and I fancy nobody has been here since. ‘That's all I iknow.” Harewood tied his, necktie twice before it satisfied him. ; “Rather tough or, thetd, wasn’t it said. “You say they. (oa the “Yes. I'm glad we tod& the apartment.” “The—the one with brown eyes—what did you say her name {s?""‘asked Harewood, without turning. A “I said her name Was Hilde,” said Bourke, drily. “The othef is named Yolette. They are both pretty.” “Yes. They’re both “extremely orna- mental,” admitted Harewood. Bourke looked at him sharply, saying: “And they're as innocent as two kittens. You might as well know that. I don’t mean wishy-washy. «I mean they are really absolutely and deliciously gocd. Oh, you can see it at a glance. By the way, did you ever see such a perfect combination of deep blue eyes and silky :purple-back hair, with a skin like snow—” ft “As Yolette’s?” - “Oh, I’ve seen that in Ireland—often,” replied Harewood, “but I never before as- sisted at the color symphony which her sister presents—brown eyes and gilt-colored ir.” “Git!” laughed Bourke. have of putting things.” “On, well, come on, I’m ready. Does this bump on my head show much? When they reached the stairway that led into the bird store Hilde met them with shy reserve and led the way across the hall. They followed her to the parlor, which was also the dining room. Yolette sat at a small mahogany table solemnly watching the steaming kettle. She raised her clear eyes as they entered and said “Good morning” with a smile that was at once apprehensive and contiding. The two young men had made their bows. Then Yolette poured the cafe-au-lait. Her man- ner was that of a very young person unex- “Nice way you Pectedly burdened with tremendous respon- elbilities, which must be borne with self- Possession. “Sister and I,” began Yolette, “dine at seven-would that hour suit you, mes- sieurs?” She spoke to both, looking at Bourke, thaps because Harewood was looking at. ilde. Tha two young men became at once very fluent in the French language. They ex- plained with one voice that the regime of the house should be established on one basis, namely, the convenience: of their hostesses. They explained that neither of them was to be considered for one moment, and they added that they desired to make some amends for the trouble they would give by placing their services at the dis- posal of their hostesses. Perhaps this was not the usual method of settling a business relation, but it answered to perfection, ané before lcng the young girls felt their for- mality and shyness melting lke frost at sunrise. And how prettily they laughed at the young men’s discomfiture when Scheher- azade, the lioness, bounded silently into the room and sprang onto the sofa. She lay there purring and licking her padded paws, her tawny eyes mildly blink- ing at the company. Yolette ran over and leaned on the sofa beside her, one cheek pressed against the creature's velvety bead. “Her ancestors for generations have been born in captivity,” explained Hilde to Harewood. “There is no more harm in her than in any house cat. My uncle brought her up; my sister and I have al- ways played with her. “Were you startled Yolette said to Bourke. “Won't you come and be intro- duced?” Bourke went a little slowly; the lioness, pleasantly indifferent, suffered kim to pat her head. Harewood contented himself with a dis- tant observation of the splendid animal and remained where, without seeming to, he could watch Hilde moving swiftly back ; and forth between the kitchen and parlor, removing cups and saucers and laying a cloth over the mahogany table. “This room is also the smoking room,” she said gravely, as she passed the table with her arms full of cups and plates; “it Was my uncle's custom to smoke here at all times.” She stood looking down at Harewood, a faint en:ile in her brown eyes. Then she glanced at her sister. “Of course,” said Yolette, “it will be learant to have the odor of tobacco in the jouse again.” As before, she looked at Bourke when she spoke and he, accepting the permission as a command, lighted his cigarette with a cheerful alacrity that made them all laugh. The morning sun poured into the room: from the shop outside came twittering of the birds, the chatter of the squirrel and sharp screams from the parrot. “Wouid you care to see them?” asked Hilde, still looking down at Harewood. “I will go with you when I have taken away the cups. “Never mind the cups,” said Yoiette; “T will take them. It is time to change the water for the birds, Hilde.” Hilde went into the kitchen with the cups and returned carrying a pitcher of fresh water. Harewood followed her, bow- ing to Yolette. She and Bourke | were indi; on either side of the Honess, pull- ing her ears and rnbhing her hair the wrong w attentions which Scheher- azade m: ignored. her h rmuring alten and rey roof. 1 purred eestati- endearment lioness closed her ey: Hy T! asked Bourke. mother’s na lin. I have the pedigree in a boo! I will show it to you some day. I am sure you think this is a strange household—full of lions and monkeys and birds. As for me, I should be very lonely without them. I have lived in the midst of them ever since I can remember, ept when Hilde and I were at the Ursalines,” continued, puiling Scheherazade “Although we keep a bird store, Hilde and I can't bear to sell our birds. them—but, of course, we are obliged to sell them. We have sold none at all since the war begun, although every week we have a place at the bird market by the Hotel de We grow so fond of Ville. ‘Tell me, monsieur, were you fi phtenta when you first saw Scheher- ‘azade?” “Seared to death. admitted Bourke avely. Yoletie dragged Scheherazade’s big, lazy head up to her own face and laughed gay- ly. “I meant to tell you about my lion, but I forgot. You must like her—won’t you?” Bourke patted the lion's paws discreetly. He was pleased to tind that she had no claws. “Of course I shall like her; i am quite in love with her now,” he said with a little More confidence for this discovery—“‘only— 1 hope she'll know me in the dark—’ Yolette laughed again. “Perhaps you and Monsieur Harewood had Better give me back the latchkeys then—” No,” sald Bourke, “I think we'll retain them if you will just remind her that late suppers produce indigestion. And—er—will re show me where she keeps herself at nist?” Yolette, greatly amused, assented. rising lightly, and dragging Scheherazade with her. Bourke followed through the kitchen along a hallway and out into a garden full cf trees and paths surrounded by high stucco walls. A stone trough filled with very clear running water stood in the deep grass under the shadow of the wall. Be- yond this stretched a tangle of grass, roses ard fruit trees. “This is Scheherazade’s playground,” said the girl, picking up a big painted rub- ber ball. Straightening up she tossed the tall out into the grass with the charming awkwardn: that attacks the gentler sex when throwing or catching anything. The lioness, much gratified, bounded after the ball, seized it, patted it first with one paw, thi with the other. and finally lay down, biting the ball and scratching it with her hénd toes. Bourke observed this pleasing perform- ance in silence. When Scheherazade gam- bolled and frisked he nodded approval. When she loped heavily off to a thicket of roses bushes, carrying the ball in her mouth, he expressed himself as edified. But to tell the truth, he was far from ex- periencing that sense of repose in the com- pany of Scheherazade that he felt was ex- pected of him. “It's a fine lion,” he said, after a moment or two, “but perhaps one needs time to ap- preciate lions. Shall we go and examine the birds?” Yolette smiled and said, “Yes,” and led the way into the bird store. Harewood and Hilde, standing together by the window, looked up quickly as Yo- lette entered. At the same moment Hilde dropped the pitcher of water. “Why, Hilde,” exclaimed Yolette, kave broken our blue plicher. Leok at the floor!” Hilde’s' consternation and Harewood’s fcrced gayety jarred on Bourke. He look- ed at Hilde’s flushed face, then at his com- rade, who returned his glance mutinously. Yelette brought a mop. Hilde, with a breathless smile at her sisier, picked up a fragment of the pitcher handle and held it out at arm’s length tntil Harewood took it and set himself to gather up the other scattered bits of blue china. “You see,” he said lightly, “I’ve just been bitten by the squirrel and the monkey, and I was courting further mutilation from the parrot yonder when the pitcher fell and saved me, mademotselle. I am very sorry that my salvation was at the expense of your pitcher.” “Your salvation is expensive, but we must have it,’ said Bourke. There was a touch of sarcasm in his yoice that made Harewood’s ears tingle. Yolette said, in- nocently: “‘M. Harewood, the birds and creatures did not know you; therefore they were frightened and they bit. My sist should have told you about the parrot.” “I can’t help it,” said Hilde, avoiding Beurke’s eyes. “M. Harewood will not wait to become acquainted; he attempts to corquer everything at once, and birds and squirrels don’t like that.” Bourke transferred his gaze to Harewood. At that moment Mehemet All, the gray and scarlet African parrot, climbed down from the perch, bit Harewood, and clim’ back again, flapping his wings and shriek- ing for joy. “Now,” said Harewood, “I suppose I may be received into the family circle. Every- thing has bitten me—except that jackdaw. Does he bite, mademoiselle?” Hilde seemed more distressed than there appeared reason for, and said, “No” in such a discouraged voice that both Yolette and Bourke laughed outright. “Won't you introduce me, too,” said Bourke. “‘Won’t you take me around to be bitten: “Not now,” said Yolette, “I must find Red Riding Hood now and go to the kitch- en.” She ‘took Hilde’s hand and they moved toward the door. ‘Luncheon at 1?" asked Bourke. ‘At 1, monsieur,” and they vanished with @ light swish of skirts, closing the door that led to the kitchen beyond. (To be continued.) ———__+2- “Want” ads. in The Star pay because they cs “you Dear me! SAILORS ON STRIKE Occasions When Enlisted Men Have Shown Bad Feeling, NEVER HAPPENS IN TIME OF WAR All Sorts of Trouble When the Officers Are Unpopular. SOME TYPICAL INSTANCES Written for The Evening Star. F.THERE BE ANY truth in that recent cable dispatch which tokl of the deliberate disabling of the ma- chinery of the Span- ish torpedo boats by the engineers, who are said to have done this bad bit of work in order to postpone or evade the neces- sity of moving on to Cuban waters—and taking the conse- quences of what their appearance in Cu- ban waters might involve—it is an evil showing for the men of the quarterdeck of the Spanish na Such a thing as this could never happen in the American navy There are dissatisfied officers in our serv- ice in time of peace, but never disaffected officers in time of war. Among the enlisted men in the United States’ two military establishments, when there is nothing doing in the way of war, there is always a certain amount of dis- temper under fancied imposition, and this distemper is manifested in many ways. But the men who carry the swords in the American service do their growling in their mustaches. Even the very worst of the men forward on an American man-of-war would scorn to engage in a job such as the “cranking” of machine: there ex- {sted any likelihood of their ship being called upon to fight at short notice. Such a thing has occasionally been done in the United States navy in ume of peace, ai- though the crime has never been fastened upon any individual man or collection of dissatisfied men forward. When a chief engineer on a United States man-of-war acquires, in time of peace, the dislike of the “black gang” under him the men of the gang are capable of making heavy trouble for him, and they have done this on numerous oc ion: eV however, when a cloud of war loomed on the hori- fe from the commanding officer, tt most be said that of all the offi- ached to a modern war vessel it for chief engineer the jen of the men imme- ‘Lhe chiet engineer is ntabie for th serva- of th tion in good con chinery. A loose ew may very easily disable an engine, < it is the simplest thing in life for a dissatisiicd enlisted man of the black gang to loosen a screw without any one being the wiser. One eut rivet may make a boiler usciess, and crown plates ure very easily let down. Have the Most Trouble. Ii is a matter of common knowledge— rather, it has been ja the past, but prob- ably will not be in the future, or at any rate while the war is unger way—that those chief engneers who are unpopular with tae enlisted men under them have by far the mest trouble with the machinery and joil- ers in their charge, and some cf these dis- ‘iked chiefs have had to expend a grent eal of ink and paper in explaining to the department the many breakdowns in the gear over which they have control. It is quite possibie for an aggrieved coal passer to get his chief engineer tangled up with a court of inquiry. Moreover, it oftea hus happened that an unpopular chief engineer has been unable to get his men to make steam. The firemen apparently work hard erough, but they don't get the revolutions out of the propellers. News travels just as fast from the cabin to the fo'e’sle as it dees from the fo’e’sle to the cabin, und when the firemen hear that ther unpopular chief engincer hus been ordered by the commanding officer to get the ship to such and such a port at such and suca x time, they catch each other's eves, and the ship dcesn’t get there, or i e it. At weuld make no differen ief en- gineer himself were to ch in the fire rooms twenty-four hours ai a stretch: The steam r. S Wouldn't take any J leaps on account of his presen 4 stant enginee:s wiso stand inne the good will of the black ga on ch there have been t one of them ciked the other out of favor with the mot lew, it has frequently beca observed that the speed of the ship during the watches of the disliked engineer has (allen short by krois of the speed gotten cut of the en- gines by his brother oftiver Require Careful Handling. A man-of-war ship's company with a grievance means trouble for the officers aft, while an army post in which th listed men are di tied requires very careful handi Officers of experience in en- both serv know these things, and take care not to put the enlisted men out of hu- mor. Officers of the navy thoroughly un- derstand, if they are experienced, how well it pays them to make themselves popular with the men forward. The unpopular na- val officer has no easy thing of it in his Gealings with the bluejackeis. In the old navy it often happened that officers who had earned the ill-will of the bluejackets feared to go up forward at night after lights out, and there was reason for their fear. Such officers would no sooner set foot in or under the fo’c’sle, where, after lights out, there was only the dim illu- iaination of 4 single standing light, than they would have to dodge all manner of missiles, “soup and bully” cans, chocking blocks, mess gear, boots, anything and everything throwable that the sailors and marines, in or out of their hammocks, first laid their nands upon. On such occasions the disliked officers had but one thing to do, and that was to travel aft as fast as tneir legs could carry them. They could make complaint to the commanding officer the next day, but they rarely secured the punishment of the men. When one of the fighung admirals of today was a command- er he was regaled one morning with the tale of woe of a snappy young ensign who had been treated to a dose of flying gear under the fo'e’sle on the previous night. “Do you know the men?” the commander asked the ensign. The ensign named a few of them. “It serves you blasted good and right,” said the commander, who was and still is reugh and ready and a trifle profane. “The men you've named are the best men i've got on my ship. I've been shipmates with scme of them ever since my middy days, sir, and I never had any trouble with them. If you had treated them right they'd have treated you right, and as*an officer on my ship should be treated. I'd advise you to put in an application for jour transfer, sir.” ‘The young ensign, now a senior lieuten- ent, tells this story upon himself, and, as he Soe ey e one of odin of pop ular officers in the navy amon 1 forward, he evidently profited by the les- Everything Goes Wrong. While such acts as heaving missiles at @isliked officers afé not done in the navy today, the bluejackets adopt other meth- ods of getting back at severe or imperi- cus officers—in times of peace, that is. For example, they “lay down” on the dis- Iikea ofc. The amount of work that @ disaffected ship's company can’t do with- very little coal seems to find its way over the side and Into the bunkers. The biue Jackets in the coal lighters pant and per- spire under the strain of labor that looks quite terrific, but there ts a lack of hea way in the coaling of the ship. The officer of the decks disliked by the men may chafe and mutter deep, dark things under his breath, but this doe mt get the coal into the bunkers. When he makes his report to the commandixe officer of amount of coal that has been got av i during his watch, it is found by compari- gon that it ts only abou third + amount that was hoisted th during the watch of the preceding of the deck, who happenea to be with the men. A matter of this » Ways sets a commanding officer to ing: for men who : enough commanders of men-of- by experience that it is a ing a dinghy for a naval and hold the good-wiil and that the usefuln officer who has sacrificed the « and respect of the men is seriou paired. ver vit k= to An End to Disct There can’ hardly be any such thing as discipline on board a man-of-war when the dissatisfaction of the ship's company is not directed against any single officer, but includes :he whole after part of the ship. About twenty years ago one of the big wooden ships, with a crew of 400 men, on a long cruise im the South Pacific, put in at the Island of Tahiti. Tis men forward were sullen and uxly severities that they considered unw ed ‘had been inflicted upon them course of the cruise. ‘The plug dished out to them by the paymas musty and unsmokable. They had not re- celved what they considered a due allow- ance of fresh provisions at the ports at which the vessel had touched. The com manding officer, they declared, was con- structed of putty, and they had no redress at the mast for the injustices put Som, in toh upon them by the inferior officers. The choct Petty officers were in just as ba dia fran of mind as the bluejackets, and so the marines. When the ship's mudhook was dropped in the harbor of Tahiti the men began: to let’ themselves quietly over the side in parties of twenty or more Sa ry Cid this under cov ness. By the time the office ° notice the thinning out of Tagged were not men enough left aboard to spread mess gear. The crew had simply teken French leave, practically in a body. Every an had a month's pay along with him in merican gold, for monthly money had been served out the day before. The de. Serters included nearly all of the chief Petty officers, as well as marine guari. nee Sailors on Strike. The officers were puzzled. The command- ing officer hed a conference with them, but they could not decide upon what to do. The skipper, with some of the ward room officers, went ashore on the following morning and found the men w alking around in an orderly fashion, on good termes with the natives, and all still xpecct and eullen. Those of them whom the ski; rer met he ordered back to the ship. > of the men made any reply, and none back to the shin. The 4 rem ed on the beach at Tahiti for more th. 1 to swim er of dark- week, corducting themselves with perfect crderliness, but very bitter in their talk about the ship out in the harbor. It joox- ed as if most of the sailors intended t settle down at Tahiti and grow up with the country, and meanwhile the ship grew cirtier and rand had a gen worked look. Then an Ameri living on the island got the b gether and talked to th €ts told him that the officers had m ship so uncomfortable for them th. y had declined to stand for it. and that toey had no intention of returning aboard. Th American, who was a man of. tact, went abcard the ship aud had a talk with the oflicers, and then he returned and talked agaia with the men. He was ety good arbitrator, for the men re es the man-of-war in a body in a lighter # Went to work. Some of the o jackets who were ashore at T ecea: m cay that th remainder their South Pacitic cruise was like yachting. ee Dangerous Odors. From the Boston Transcript. Some smells are dangerous, A single sniff of highly concentrated prussic acid will kill a man as quickly as a shot through the heart. The odor of a bad egg is due to the presence of sulphuretted hydrogen, and the objectionable perfun of sewers and bone factories are attrity ble chiefly to the same gas. Chemical lab- oratories are famous for bad smelis. Ber- zelius, who disco A the element calle’ “selenium” once tried the experiment permitting a bubble of pure hydroge lenide gas to en’ his nostril For afterward he was not able to sm nia, the ot liurium is even of 4 phys clan whe refused to take an absolute rest because she was so fond of being alweye on the go in He gave her a pill containing of tellurium. t and her } h ed by it to such an ext that bie to appear in public for a ever guessed what the trou- » oil of ed 10 cali yd” complaint is so far nervous ter that paper roses sc times excite it. a és coo ss, THE WAR Map. Copies of Thursday's Star, inchic- ing the handsome colored war map, by which the position of the Ameri- can and Spanish vessels can be read- ily located from day to day, may be obtained at The Star office. > Qualified. From the Chicago Record. “Dorothy goes as a nurse if we have war.” “What experience has she had?” “Her three brothers are foot ball rash. It is altogether admirable when a man, by dint of sheer will, wrings a for- tune from niggardly circumstances. The world is full of instances ., Where men © have done this, but never in history was this accomplished by a weak and \ uuheaithy man. Y ill-health not only weakens every physical function bute ery mental fac- Dg sty and every moral quality. If aman w f stop and reason - for a_ moment, he_ does not have to be a physician to understand the causes of impure blood, or its far-reaching effects. When a man’s digestion is disor- dered, his liver slu his bowels inac- tive, the blood is deprived of the proper food elements, and the sluggish liver and bowels supply in their place, the foulest of poisons. The blood is the life-stream. When it is full of foul poisons, it carries and its them in e organ and tis- sue of the body. Bone, sinew, muscle, and flesh-tissue, the brain cells and the nerve fibres are all fed upon bad, poisonous food. Serious ill-health is bound to result. The man is weakened in every fiber of his body. He is weakened physically, mentally and He sui from sick i