Evening Star Newspaper, May 21, 1898, Page 18

DOW NONOWO NOME MONO MOND (sekse se J se) seksed se) sekseisek THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MAY 21, 1898—24 PAGES. {red i SALOMY JANE'S KISS ri 1 oo) as ed oy WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY BRET HARTE. ae (see (Copyright, 1888, by Bret Harte.) ; . DROWOWES WOWE AWOWE A URLS URLS URSA ATES Part I. even dragged the bound and helpless sec- Only one shot had been fired. It had | 0nd captive from Judge Boompoint fav- @one wide of its mark—the ringleader of the vigilantes—and it had left Red Peta, fired it, covered by their rifles and at thetr mercy. For his hand had been cramped by hard riding, and his eye dis- tracted by their sudden onset, and so the inevitable end had come. He submitted sullenly to his captors, his companion fugi- tive and horse thief gave up the protracted h a feeling not unlike relief. en the hot and vengeful victors were content. They had taken their men alive. At any time during the long chase the: could have brought them down by shot, but it would have been un: like and have ended in a free fight—instead of an example. And, for the matter of that, their doom already sealed. Their end by a rope and a tree, although not sanctified by law, would have at least the deliberation of justice. It was the tribute paid by the vigilantes to that order which they themselves had disregarded in the pursuit and capture. Yet this strange logic of the frontier sufficed them and gave a ain dignity to the climax. Ef you've got anything to say to your folks, say it now, and say it quick,” said the ringieader. Red Pete gianced around him. He had been run to earth at his own cabin in the clearing. whence a few relatives and friends—mostly women and children, non- combatants—had outflowed, gazing vacant- ly at the twenty vigilantes who surrounded them. All were accustomed to cenes of nee, blood fend, chase and hardship; was only the suddenness of the onset 2 its quick result that had surprised n. They looked on with dazed curios- and some disappointment. There had been no fight to speak of—no spectacle! A viol it boy—a nephew of Red Pete—got upon the rain barr comfort: to view the proceedings more ply; a tall, handsome, lazy Ken- sirl, a visiting neighbor, leaned the doorpost, chewing gum. Only . hound was actively perplexed. He »t make out if a hunt were just over nning, and ran eagerly backward and forward, leaping alternately upon the id the captors. ted his challenge. ss laugh and look- i Pete came forward. ad much to say vindictively—to His soul would roast in hell that day's work! He called him- seif a man, skulkin’ in the open and afraid to shew himself except with a crowd of ther e's” around a h of women sing insult on insult, im. 1 hi a woman—until and only thai ¥ nctity of s from the lock of d it, are the lash of the abruptly to the you've got an te, now's your stirred or being a Red Pete, s but an | ndoned boyhood, of | mother were on! am, he loved hor: ceepting the inter: a man rstood life the good $ shown by the one days before the | -mpointer. This was | testion stirred him for ttitude of reckless | and a p Rut it may have touched bat mement he was s than | | and his virago w How- shook his head. As he did lly fell on the handsome who w looking at | too, may have been | omplete lon e838, for he i moment he saw at his friend) sque idea struck him. ane, ye might do worse than -bye’ to a dying er,” he sai a subtle s of | that ally | It was well | y thought no | f, and always held | n with a lazy, nymph-like | s, she slowly disengaged herself from the door and, to every- | y's astonishment, lounged with languid | 1 hed hand toward the came into the gray, the doomed man wore | hand grasped his left, just his captors. Then she paused, by Whey Remained Thus for a Moment. her ‘awn-like eyes grew bold and fixed ves upon him. She took t mi uth, wipec of her hand, by a sud¢ d her foot on his stirn to the saddle, threw her ng his neck and pressed a kiss * hushed mo- hold of death, ess of youth | Then the fous effrontery lipped the focus ringleader saw He shou urged his horse be- i the next moment the sping over the vis. ommitte . tting, and where ate the offense of ly found them and breathless > which had taken lace in the © since the episode Of the kiss. high color remained 4 ad burned through his mask of indi ference. His eyes were quick, alert and keen, his mouth half open as if the girl's kisx still Mngered- there. And that haste had ce them careless, for the horse of the man who led him slipped in gopher hole, rolled over, unseated his rider and orite mare. In an instant they were all on their feet again, but in that supreme mo- ment the second captive had felt that the cords which bound his arms had slipped to ris wrists. By keeping his elbows to his sides and obliging the others <o help him rrount, it escaped their notice. By riding close to his capters and keeping in the crush of the throng, he further concealed the accident, slowly working his hands downward out of his bonds. Their way lay through a sylvan wiider- middle deep in ferns, whose tell brushed their horses’ sides in their furious gallop and concealed the flapping ef the captive’s loosened cords. The peace. ful vista—more suggestive of the offerings of nymphs and shepherds than of human sacrifice—was in a strange contrast to this whirlwind rush of stern armed men. The westering sun pierced the subdued Nght and the tremor of leaves with yeilow lances: birds started into song on blue and dove- like wings, and on either side of the trail i A SUDDEN “VAQUERO” JERK. womankind,” th2refore not without some degree of merit. ‘: “Wot's this yer I'm hearin’ of your doin’s over at Red Pete’s? Honeyfogiin’ with a borse thief, eh?” said Mr. Clay two days later at breakfast. “I reckon you heard about the straight thing, then,” sali Salomy Jane, uncon- cernedly, without looking round. “What do you kalkilate Rube will say to it?) What are you goin’ to tell him?" ~- Clay, sarcastically. or Reuben Waters, was a swain supposed to be favored particularly by Mr. Clay. Salony Jane looked up. “T'll tell him that when he’s on his way to be hung I'll kiss him—not till then,” said the young lady, brightly. This delightful witticism suited the pa- ternal humor, and Mr. Clay siatled, but, nevertheless, he frowned a moment ufter- w ‘But this yer hoss thief got away arter all, and that’s a hoss of a different color,” he said, grimly. Salomy Jane put down her knife and fork. This-was certa‘rly a new and dif- ferent phase of the situation. She had never thought of it before, and, strangely enough, for the first time she became in- terested in the man. “Got away,” she re- peated. “Did they let him off?” ‘Not much,” said her father, briefly. “Slipped his ‘cords, and going down the grade pulled up short, just like a vaquero again’ a lassoed bull, almost draggin’ the man leadin’ him off his hoss, and then skyutted up the grade. For that matter, on that hoss o’ Judge Boompointer’s he mout have dragged the whole posse of ‘em down on their knees ef he liked! Sarved ‘em right, too. Instead of stringin’ him up afore the door or shootin’ him on sight they must allow to take him down afore the hull committee ‘for an example.’ ‘Ex- ample’ be blowed! Ther’s example enough when some stranger comes unbeknownst slap onter a man banged to a tree and , Plugged full of holes. That's an example. and he knows what it means. Wot more de ye want? But then those vigilants is of this vengeful storm could be heard the irurmur of hidden and tranguil waters. In | @ few moments they would be on the open Ticge, when sloped the common turnpike to “Sawyers,” a mile away. It was the cus- tem of returning cavalcades to take this hill at headlong speed, with shouts and cries that heralded their coming. They Withheld the latter that day as inconsist- ent with their dighity, but, emerging from the wood, swept silently lke an avalunche dewn the slope. They were well under way, looking only to their horses, when the second captive slipped his right arm from | the bonds and succeeded in grasping the reins that lay trailing on the horse's neck. A sudden “vaquero” jerk, which the well- trained animal understood, threw him on his haunches with his forsiegs firmiy plant- ed on the slope. The rest of the cavalcade swept on; the man who was leading the captive's horse by the riata, ‘ninking only of another accident, dropped the line to save himself from ‘being dragged back- w from his horse. The captive wheeled and the next moment was galloping fur- iously up the slope. It was the work of a moment, a trained horse and an experienced hand. Tne cav- alcade had covered nearly fifty yards before they could pull up; the freed captivs had covered half that distance uphill. The road so narrow that only two shots could be fired, and these Lrcke dust two yards ahead of the fugitive. They had not dared to fire low—th> horse was the mor2 valuable ani- mal. The fugitive knew this in his extrem- ity aiso, and would have gladly taken a shot in his own leg to spare that of his horse. Five men were detached to recapture or kill him. The lattsr seemed inevitable. But he had calculated his chances; before they could reload he had reached the woods egain. Winding in and out between the pil- lared tree trunks, h2 offered no mark. They knew his horse was superior to theirs. At the end of two hours they returned, for he had disappeared without track or trail. The erd was briefly told in the Sizrra Record: “Red Pete, the notorious horse thief, who has so long eluded justice, was captured and hung by the Sawyer’s Crossing vig- ilantes last week His confed2rate, unfort- urately, escaped on @ valuable horse be- longirg to Judge Boompointer. The judge had refused $1,000 for the horse only a we>k before. As the thief, who is still at large, Would find it difficult to dispose of so valu- able an animal without detection, the chances are against either of them turning up again” ree Salomy Jane watched the cavalcade until it had disappeared. Then she became aware that her brief popularity had passed. Mrs. Red Pote, in stormy hysterics, had included her in a sweeping denunciation of the whole uriverse—possibly for simulating an emo- tien in which she herself was deficient. The other women hated h3r for her momentary «xaltation above them; only the children still admired her as one who had undoubt- edly “canoodled” with a man “a-going to being hung’’—a daring flight beyond their wildest ambiuon. Salomy Jane accept2d the change with charming unconcern. She put on her yellow nankeen sunbonnet—a hid- | cous affair that would have ruined any oth- | er woman, but which only enhanced the Piquancy of her fr2sh brunette skin—tled the strings, letting the blue-black braids es- be below its frilled curtain behind, jump- ed on her mustang with a casual display of agile ankles in shapely white stockings, whistled to the hound, and, waving her hand with a “so long, sonn to the lately bereft but admiring nephew, flapped and fluttered away in her short brown holland gown Her father’s house was four miles dis- tant. Contrasted with the cabin she had Just quitted, it was a superior dwelling, with a long “‘lean-to” at the rear, which brought the eaves slmost to the’ ground tard made it look like a low triangle. It ad a long barn and cattle sheds, for Mad- ison Clay was a “great” stock raiser and the owner of a “quarter section.” It had a sitting room and a parlor organ, whose tra tation thither had been a marvel jacking.” These things were supposed to give Saiomy Jane an undue importance, but the girl's reserve and inaccessibility to local advances were rather the result of a cool, Jazy temperament and the Ppreoccupa- tion of a large, protecting admiration for her father—for so-ne years a widower. For Mr. Madison Clay’s life had been threaten- ed in cne or two feuds—it was said, not without cause—and it is possthle that the pathetic spectacle of her father doing his visiting with a shotgun may have touched her closely and somewhat prejudiced her against the neighboring masculinity. The thought that cattle, horses and “quarter section” would one day he hers did not dis- turb her calm. As for Mr. Clay, he acvept- ea her as housewifely, though somewhat “auterfering,” and, One of “his own alius clingin’ and bargin’ onter some mere Sclap o° the law th re pretendin’ to de. Spise. It makes me sick! Why, when Jake Myers shot your ole Aunt Viney’s second husband, and I laid in wait for Jake after- ward in the Buctcrnut holiow, did I tie him to his hoss and fetch him down to yeur Aunt Viney’s cabin ‘for an example’ before I plugged him? No! (in deep dis- gust). No! Why, I just meandered through the woods, -areless like, till he comes out, and I just rode up to him, and I said: But Salomy Jane had heard her father's story before. Even one’s dearest relatives are apt to become tiresome in narration. “I know, dad,” she interrupted, “but this yer man—this hoss thief—did he get clean away without gettin’ hurt at all?” “He did; and unless he’s fool enough to sell the hoss he kin keep away, too. So ye see, ye can't ladle out that purp stuff about a ‘dyin’ stranger’ to Rube. He won't sSwaliler it.” “All the same, dad,” returned the girl, cheerfully, “I reckon to say it—and say more. I'll tell him that ef he manages to get away, too, I'll marry him—there! But ye don’t ketch Rube takin’ any such risks in gettin’ ketched, or in gettin’ away arter!” Madison Clay smiled grimly, pushed back his chair, rose, dropped a perfunctory kiss on his haughter’s hair, and, taking his shotgun from the corner, departed on a peaceful Samaritan mission to a cow who had dropped a calf in the far_pasture. In- clined as he was to Reuben’s wooing from his eligibility as to Property, he was con- scious (hat he was sadly deficient in certain qualities inherent in the Clay family. It certainly would be a kind of mesalliance. Left to herself, Salomy Jane stared a long while at the coffee pot, and then called the two squaws who assisted her in her house- hold duties, to clear away the things, while she went up to her own room to make her bed. Here she was confronted with a pos- sible prospect of that proverbial bed she might be making in her willfulness, and on which she must lle, in the photograph of a somewhat serious young man of refined features—Reuben Waters—stuck in her window frame. Salomy Jane smiled over her last witticism regarding him, and en- joyed it, like your true humorist, and then, catching sight of her own handsome face in the little mirror, smiled again. But wasn't it funny about that horse thief get- ting off after all? Good Lordy! Fancy Reu- ben hearing he was alive and gotng around with that kiss of hers set on his lips! She laughed again, a little more abstractedly. And he had returned it like a man, holding her tight and almost breathless, and he going to be hanged the next minute! Sa- lomy Jane had been Kissed at other times, by force, chance or stratagem. In a cer. tain ingenuous forfeit game of the locality, known as “I'm a-pinin’,” many had “pined” for a “sweet kiss” from Salomy Jane, which she had yielded in a sense of honor and fair play. She had never been kissed like this before—she would never again— and yet the man was alive! And, behold, she could see in the mirror that ‘she was blushing. She should hardly know him again, A young nan with very bright eyes, a flushed and sunburnt cheek, a kind of fixed look in the face, and no beard—no, none that she could feel. Yet he was not at all like Reuben—not a bit. She took Reuben’s picture from the window, and laid it on her workbox. And to think she did not even know this young man’s name! That was queer. To be kissed by a man whom she might never know! Of course, he knew hers. She wordered if he remember- ed it and her. But of course he was so glad to get off with his life that he never thought of anything else. Yet she did not give more than four or five minutes to these speculations, and, like a sensible girl, thought of something else. Once again, however, in opening the closet she found the brown holland gown she had worn on the day before, thought it very unbecoming, and regretted that she had not worn her best gown on her visit to Red Pete’s cottage. On such an occasion = really might have been more impres- sive. When her father came home that night she asked him the news. No, they had not captured the second horse thief, who was still at large. Judge Boompotinter talked of invoking the aid of the d law. It remained then to see whether the horse thief was fool enough to try to get had faction. It might have been Red Pete who had escaped. But had not the grit of had already settled to me, Salomy.” “Ye aint harke: Salomy Jangst: “Here I'm askin, fe if you’ve seen that hound, Phil Larrai day?” sneaking by yer to- 7 ot. But she became interested and f-reproachful, for she knew that Phil Larrabee was one of her father’s enemies. “He wouldn't dare to go by here unl he knew you were out,” she said quick. “That's what gets me,” he said, scratch- ing bis grizzled head. “I've been kind o° thinkin’ o’ him all day, and one of them Chinamen said he saw him at Sawyer's Crossing. He was a kind of friend 0’ Pere’s wife. That's why I thought yer migat find out ef he'd been there.” Salomy Jane grew mere -self-reproachful at her father’s self- interest in her “neighborlines: But that ain't all,” continued Mr. Clay. “Thar was tracks over the far pasture that watn't mine. I followed them and then went rcund and round the house two cr three times, ez ef they mout hey bin prowlin’, and then I lost ‘em in the woods again. It’s just like that sneakin’ hound Larrabee, to hev bin lyin’ in wait for sne and afraid to meet a min fair and square in the open.” “You just Me low, dad, for a day or two more, and let me do a little prowlin’,” the girl, with sympathetic indisn: her dark eyes. “Ef it’s that skunk I'll spot him soon enough and let you know whar he's hiding.” . “You'll just stay where ye are, Salomy,” said her father, decisively. “This ain't ro woman's work—though I ain't sayin’ you haven't got more head for it than some men I know.” (To be continued.) Salomy Jane had: WHITE HOUSE RECEPTIONS They Are Still Kept Up Three Afternoons in the Week. Women Make Up the Majority of the Visitors—Guarding the President— His Walks and Drives. In the face of great responsibi'ities and hours of hard work, President McKinley continues to give his tri-w2ekly public re- ceptions at the White House. ‘hese are held in the east room at 3 o'clock on Mon- days, Wednesdays and Fridays, and each one is attended by from 3060 to 1,000 people. The President is frequently engaged with army or navy officers or members of bis cabinet when the time arrives, but he never fails to appear. He is occasionally late, but he would not think of disappointing the hundreds of visitors who take delight in mesting and shaking hands with him. Many cautious people urge that these re- ceptions should not be expected of the President in war times, but they do not give their views to th> President himself, as he enjoys meeting the citizens of the country and finds a diversion from the con- fining duties of his office. The receptions are short, as the Presid2nt disposes of something like 10) people in fifteen minutes. The handshake is a quick ene, and the visitor whese inclination is to tarry 4 minute with th2 President nds the good right arm of the chief executive pull- ing him past, as well as giving him that cordial and hearty grasp which he has longed for. ‘Glad to meet you,” or “Pleas- ed to see you,” are the short words of greeting uttered by the President, and a second later the visitor finds himself or herself on the way out of the White House and a crowd pushing behind which has fared just the same. But th2y all like it, ard when they’ go hom2 they are enabled to tell about shaking hands with the Presi- dent, Women in the Majority. Women make, up the majority of visitors at these receptions. .They leave the White House with delightsd faces and “Ob, he’s just splendid," is heard on all sides. The joy of the woman whose child gets a flower just rans over, however. Many mothers take small children with them io these r3- ceptions. Cooing, prattling babies are among the number... E The President always wears a pretty flower in the buttonhole of his coat. He gives his flower to some child, and the one selected for this honor will tell about it hundreds of times. The fond mother fairly beams with joy, and all the way out of the grounds she talks to her child about the honor conferred. The President is carefully looked after during these receptions. He probably does not know it, but there are always several city detectives near him, in addition to the two policemen and chief usher, who stand at his side to aid him in handling the crowd. These detectives have, of course, been placed on duty since the beginning of the war with Spain. They are on duty all day at the White House and scrutinize all visitors. It would be a difficult matter for any harm to come to the President in his office or while holding receptions. Several men who acted suspiciously have been closely watched at receptions, but it was afterward seen that they were all right. No Fear of Harm. The President has no thought of harm being done him. Since the war began he goes out oftener ‘than ever before. Up to the time of the breaking out of hostilities the President rarely left the White House for outdoor exercise. This began to tell on him, and his friends insisted that he get out in the air more frequently. For a long time he complied with this request by going out for a walk about noon each day, some- times getting a mile from the White House. Again he would walk in the grounds. He Was nearly always accompanied by one of his cabinet advisers, Secretary Long often being the man selected as his companion. These two would become so deeply ab- sorbed in their conversation that they no- ticed little of what was going on around them. For the last two or three weeks the Pres- ident has given up these walks and takes a ride in the afternoon. He goes out from the White House between 4:30 and 5 o'clock each afternoon. An important caller some- times makes the hour later. Never over one person accompanies the President. This is sometimes Mrs. McKinley, sometimes Secretary Porter, another time a cabinet officer, and another a senator or represen- tative’ Judge McComas was one ot the President's guests on a drive this week. The coachman selects what he considers a pleasant route for the drive and returns the President to the White House in an hour, giving the chief executive time to dress for dinner. No detectives follow be- hind or hover close around. A free man, with a clear conscience, the President feels no need for officials of this kind. ——_. A Benefit Performance. From Puck. f Reporter—“I hear there were four stab- bing affrays and ten.shooting scrapes here last night?” 3. Citizen of Frozen Dog (gleefully)—“Yen— th’ boys elected ole Pop Rice justice of the peace yesterday, an’ seein’ he don’t git no salary but fees, th’, boys decided to shoot an’ slash a litte last night so’s to git ar- rested an’ op him, along a bit; it were nuthin’ but a ‘benefit, performance.’ ” said [ A FLEET OF TRANSPORTS. WILL DO GOOD WORK Ships That Play a Secondary Part in an American Fleet. CARRY COAL AND OTHER SUPPLIES Deserve No Mean Share in the Credit of a Victory. AMPLE PROVISION MADE ———— Written for The Evening Star. HE FINEST OF I our fighting ships, with all their boast- ed self - sufficiency, their manifold mech- aaisms and th complex provisions against accident or mishap, are really helpless creations the moment their coal supplies become exhausted. could be more pa- thetically distressed than a great battle ship wallowing aim- lessly in x seaway, her powers of offense intact, but paralyzed, like her great body, for want of energy or its correlative, coal: he> great eyes blind for want of elecfrical force; her lungs fouled by tainted air be- Nothing | consist of three elements like the modern triple-expansion engine, and are intended to utilize the steam with the most eco- romical expenditure demanded in the out- put of a tota! supply daily of at least , 09 gallons of thorcughly palatable drink- ing water. The operaticn is simple. Each of the evaporaiors corsists of a cylindrical steel boiler containing a coil of piping which is surrounded by cold sea water. The steam is supplied to the first coil directly from the ship's boilers. That steam raises the sea water to the boiling point and grad- ually evaporates it in that way. The steam thus generated, in conjunction with such of the original steam not condensed in the first coil in the eperation, passes in- to the coil of the second evaporator, re- peating the operation in connection With the sea water there, and finally merging with the steam raised from the salt water in the third evaporator and passing to- gether into the condenser. The conden- sation from the first two coils is caughi bs traps and carried off to the tanks. In this way the latent heat from the first steam from the boiler is economically absorbed by the three stages of salt water, and a higher percentage of performance 1s at- tained than is pozsible in a single-element evaporator. After condensation the water is carefully aerated, and the result is a thoroughly palatable water devoid of that flatness generally. characteristic of con- !densed :ea water. A sediment of salt—the residue of the | ocean brine—gradually forms upon the coils of the distillers, and these evaporat- ors are so arranged that this scale can be readily removed. On the other ships their distillers will be worked as far as pos- sible only to the extent of making good | the loss of fresh water consumed by the boilers, that the use of salt water may be | obviated and the formation of a trouble some scale of salt—difficult to reach—may be guarded against in the ship's boilers proper. | The hygiente value of sufficient fresh wa- | ter cannot be overestimated when the rig- | ors of warfare are aggrav by the clos: | confinement of shipboard in the tropi | i and it may even be the purpose of this ve: sel to lend its bounty to the military A NON-COMBATANT. cause of her halted blowers: her whole bedy either feverish or chilled, as the weather dictated, for want of circulation or proper respiration, and her complement athirst for need of enough heat to trans- form that tantalizing sea water into drink. Such a thiag is distinctly possible, and it is against even the slightest approach to a like condition that we have taken ampie rreans to provide. The modern, heavy fighting craft carries between eighty and ninety engines of var- fous sorts aside from those directly occu- pied in propelling the ship, and under nor- mal circumstances it is quite safe to say that at least 15 or 20 per cent of all steam generated is taken up in their service. Most of them are vital to the fighting effi- ciency of the vessel; but there are a few oz them, such, ‘for instance, as the en- gineer’s workshop, the distillers and the re- frigerating plant, which may be termed avxiliaries of secondary importance, and it is the purpose of the government to run these accessories on half-time, so to speak, and to leave just that much more energy for other more needful purposes. To this. end we have fitted up the repair ship, the distiller ship and the refrigerator ship, while to the colliers has been relegated the ecmmon service of supplying coal to all craft distant from ready bases of supply, and the engineer-in-chief has done his ut- mest to make them capable. The Repair Ship. The repair ‘ship, fittingly named the Vulcan was the well-known steamer Chatham of the Merchant and Miners’ line between Baltimore and Boston. Into the ship has been placed something like eighty tons of tools and machinery, and today the vessel is a veritable floating workshop. ‘There are plate bending rolls, and punch- ing and shearing machines that can bite right throught an inch of solid steel. There are lathes for turning castings of consider- able size, and planers, drills and milling machines of compass enough to meet al- Most any need short of that demanded in the complete reconstruction of a large en- gine. There are pipe cutters, bolt cutters, forges and grindstones; and there is a good-sized cupola for the meiting of suffi- cient metal to make a pretty heavy casting. There are a number of blowers to supply the several forges and to draw foul air from between decks and to send it sky- ward through the red-mouthed ventilators above. There are also «veporators and dis- tillers of a capacity equal to a daily out- put of quite 10,000 gallons of potable water, several times more than the needs of the Vulcan could demand. A supplemental electric plant has given excellent lighting facilities through the ship, but principally in the workshops on what is termed the third deck. The purpose of this craft is manifest. She is to follow in the wake of a fleet— her great coal capacity giving her a wide radius of action, and she is to supply fresh water to the other vessels and to make then and there all possible repairs which might otherwise take the ships miles and miles away to some naval station. A broken spindle might render helpless two great guns; but a few hours’ work on the Vulcan would remedy the trouble; and even less time might place the. engines of one of our torpedo boats in trim after a considerable break. At the close of an en- gagement, the wounded vessels could has- ten to her, or she to them, and sych work then be done as to place them back in the line of battle—once more a formidable men- ace to the foe. - The mission and the usefulness of such a craft cannot be overestimated, when every pound of coal must tell its tale of work well done in our defense. It is a very mod- ern adaptation of that wise saw, “A stitch in time saves nine,” and a typical instance of the great value of a traveling base of re- pair. The Distiller Ship. The distiller ship, now named the Iris, was the British steamer Menemsha. Un- like the Vulcan, the Iris will make no re- Pairs, but will be devoted solely to con- verting the ocean’s brine into drinking ‘water; and to this end, she will carry a very large supply of coal and will have four up-to-date distillers of considerable ‘These distillers, or evaporators, branch of the service. Poisoned wells and tainted streams need not be feared under such circumstances; they can be avoided. The Refrigerator Ship. The refrigerator ship Supply, formerly the Illinois of the American line, will be used as a traveling base of fresh provisions, and the tax on the refrigerating plants of the fighting ships will be eased to just that ex- tent. The Illinois was originally built for a passenger ship, but was later relegated to the transportation of cattle and beef to England, still as an adjunct to the Ameri- can line. In that capacity she necessarily hed an extensive system of cold storage, and this has readily adapted the vessel to our present needs. She will carry tons of ice and fresh provender of all Kinds—but especially of a vegetable nature—the surest safeguard against disease in the tropics, and, with her extensive coal capacity, her own distiller plant, and her ample burden, she will prove an exceedingly efficient part of the fleet. The government is making prevision for one or two more vessels of the same sort. The Colliers. The colliers explain themselves, and, be- ing boats of fair speed and great carrying capacity, will form the principal supply links between our fighting craft and our bases of supply. As carefully as our coal will be used, still hundreds upon hundreds ships always ready for instant service and prepared to meet the enemy at any mo- iment, and the safe conduct of their pre- cious ebon burdens will be a matter often demanding good, cool judgment, and no mean skill on the part of their command- ers. In war time, and sore pressed as Spain is, coal is worth its weight in gold, and a collier will prove a nugget worthy of a good, stiff chase and a moderate tussle, and the captain that can dodge such a foe and run his cargo safely into the intended haven will be doing just as much good, perhaps, as the skipper that sinks a foe. The Ambulance Ship. The ambulance ship is the naval sister of mercy, and will minister whoily to the sick and wounded of our officers and seam:n, or, 3f need be, the stricken of our army of oc- cupation as well. The Solace, formerly the Creole of the Cromwell line, has already b2gun, perhaps, the duty for which she was hastily pre- pared, and what it means to transport com- fcrtably and hastily the wounded from the feverish tropics to some more temperate haven b2yond the boom of guns and be- yond the exciting reach of war's alarms is a boon yery much emphasized by the rec- ord of every war, As far as possible, the Solace has been made to meet th> more pressing needs of the service for which she has been called into requisition; but she is not that perf2ct craft suggested by Surgeon General Van Reypen and carefully planned by the chief constructor. There is one com- modious elevator into which the sick and wounded will be carried from either side and then raised or lowered either to the large, airy operating room or to the deck on which they are to be housed. Th» state- room accommodations already in the craft have been readily adapted to hospital uses, and there is ample room between decks for additional cots. Th» conValescents will be carried above, where they can be in the fresh air while under the sheltering cover of wide-spread awnings. Steam cutters and large barg>s will facilitate the easy trans- Portation of the injured and sick, and a Well-known apparatus peculiar to our serv- ice will lift them from the boats and swing tbem inboard and on to the rolling cots that carry them to their immediate destination. rything has of tons of it will be used daily to keep the | been don> to contribute | CHRISTIAN ENDEAVORERS Plans for the Big Convention to Be Held ig Nashville. Several Hundred Will From Thy City—A Pleasing Minera’ Speakers, About 300 Christian Endeavorers of this city will attend the seventeenth interna- tienal Christian Endeavor convention to be held in Nashville, Tenn., July 6-11. The local committee, which is preparing for the convention, is composed of the fol- lowing thirteen persons, each of whom— except the chairman and secretary—is chairman of a subcommittee: Rev. Ira D. Landrith, chairman; B. G. Alexander, se retary; Edgar Jones, finance; W. L. Noell press; Peyton Robertson, entertainment; F S. McFadden, ushers; M. B. Plicher, hall Joel O. Cheek, registration; Derris, decoration ". Rust, Erskine Reed, music; T. A. Reynolds, pi pit supply, and J. D. Blanton, local excur- ston. The main sessions of this convention, which promises to be as large and important recepti as the one held in Washington in July, 1806, are to be held in two of the buildings at the West Side Park, which were erected f¢ the Tennessee centennial and internat exposition last year, and many smailer | Meetings will be held in the churches and other public meeting places in the business pertion of the city. The buildings to be | used at the park are the auditoriums to be known as “Auditorium Ende 7 seating 15,000; the mineral and forestry’ buildin, to be known as “Hall Williston,” seatin 10,000; the rthenon, to be n a “state headquarters,” and others not named will be occupied by the missionary boards of the various churches anf the press r resentatives. Three street car lines run from the heart of the city to the park, so that ample provision is made for transporta- tion to and from the meeting places, and immense crowds have been and can be han- dled comfortably and quickly. The Provisional Program, Only a provisional program has as yet been issued, but from it a fair idea of the greatness of this convention can be ha The preliminary meetings will be held on Wednesday evening, July 6, in ten dezen of the largest Nashville chur and will deal with the gencral topic, duement With Power.” Ee auditoriums will have Perey 5. by Each of the great ge choruses, one led by Mr. ster of this city, and the other 0. Excell of Chicago. There will al be music by Mr. Yarnell and his daughi Mr. Estey, Dr. Chay P , the famous Jubii. singers from Fisk University and other; Speakers of Prominence. Among the many speakers of prominence who may be heard are the following: Gen. John B. Gordon, Atlanta, Ga.; Rev. James jI, Vance, D. D., Nashville, Tenn.; Rev. | George C.+Lorimer, D. D. LL.D., Boston, | Mass.; Rev. J. Wilbur Chapman, D. D., ; Philadelphia, Pa.; Booker T. Washington, | Tuskegee, Ala.; Rev. Howard Agnew Joh ston, D. D., Chicago; Rev. John Her | Barrows, D. ‘D., Chicago; Commander B: |lington Booth, New York; Commander | Booth-Tucker, New York; Rev. A. C. Dixe on, D. D., Brooklyn, N. ¥.; Gen. 0. 0. How- |ard, Burlington, Vt.; Rev. P. S. Henson, D. | D., Chicago; Rev. Sam Jones, Cartersville, Ga. The itinerary has just been issued by | Messrs. R. E. L. Smith and W. W. Everett the transportation committee of the Dis trict of Columbia C. E. Unton. The official jtrain will be a large one of the finest day coaches. The start will be at 7:30 a.m. July 4, stopping at Luray Caverns for lunch and a visit to the caverns; leave there at 3:30 p.m., arriving at Natural Bridge at 6:30, where dinner will be had, as well ag a night's rest in the hotel, and after an early visit to the great bridge the train moves on at 7:45 a.m. Chattanooga wil! be reached at 10 p.m., when the delegates wiil be taken to the top of Lookout mountain te pass the night and the next forenoon. At 1:15 p.m. July 6 leave Chattanooga and ar- rive at Nashville and the convention et 5:15 the same evening. The train will stop jat McGavock street, four blocks from |Moore Memorial Presbyterian Church, which will be District headquarters, and in the near-by homes, of which the delegates will _be made comfortable during thei stay in Dixie." Returfing the District train leaves Nashville at 1 p.m. July 12. A LITTLE LIGHT. Eve foung wo- man needs ar ttle light upon the sul ject of health. There is far too much new- fashioned _prudery among mothers. Ev- ery young woman should have ex- plained to her the supreme neces- sity of keeping If pure and wholesome and free from weak- ness and disease in a womanly way. Her general health, her future happiness, her poe looks, her physical strength, her capability as a wife and mother, and the health and strength of generations to come are dependent upon this. Nothing in the world will destroy the good looks, wholesomeness, the amiability, and the usefulmess of a woman quicker than disorders of the delicate and important organs that bear the burdens of maternity. Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Prescription is the best.of all medicines for women who are It makes a woman where a woman most It relieves pain, soothes inflammation, heals ulcera- tion and gives rest and tone to the tortured nerves. It cures all the ills and pains too commonly considered an uncomfortable in- heritance of womankind. It has been used for Spe thirty