Evening Star Newspaper, July 2, 1898, Page 17

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JULY 2, 1898-24 PAGES. 16 | —— = b=), Pereira eee NGPA NE AMINE AEE NVE ENYCE MEYONE ACNE AONE eves ase) seh se hse Xse nse) \sehsek Oe ee) THE FOURTH OF J “Howly mothgr, gintlemin!~argued Dillon (at rare intevals, when extremely ill or ce consciously drunk, Dillon was a devout Cathdlic, and on this meager recognition availed himself without stint of the so- norous church oaths and evocations), “*’t 1s a matther av importince. Wud ye have another shootin’ Donnybrook? an’ me a- bearin’ av all the divilmint, same as "twuz last year? Wid the riputashun av the camp, too! In the name av in ince, have ye no heads for an emergenc Dillon was clearly in earnest, and when a wan of his racial characteristics is in earnest things are likely to happen, whether the scene of action be Spitzbergen or Tim- Dbuctoo. His indignation at our stupidity: at the mayor's, the sheriff's and mine—w offensive; but we could offer no suggestion that might stand fcr us as combatant. Where were men in the camp with official titles, and men very prone to swift and ac- curate shooting, but these collectively were as naught before the breath of Dillon. Galena was like most other of northwest- ern mining towns; if at all distinguishable from them it was by a slight accentuation of that air of bonhomie which is more or Jess apparent on the visages of all com- munities of the genus. In plan and con- struction it was certainly in nowise indi- vidual. The single main thoroughfare, ex- tending in a parallel line midway between the flanking gulch sides, the various short traverse cuts, the littered shaft workings and entrances of a number of mines, the thin sprinkling of stores and semi-disrepu- table hotels» the ungovernable fiux of wide- olly disreputable saloons and these were features oe utmost ality.’ But if there was that additiona by the enforcing personality of Dillon, who owned and genially presided over one of the biggest and brightest and most bemirrored of the combination saloons and gambling sorts. *Gonce:ve, then, his popularity. He was the patron, the philanthropist, the bene: factor of the town. And thus was it tha we were called in conference, to be ass ants to him in one of Fis great human’ ctions; the mayor and the sheriff by reason of their political headship; I by some small commercial standing, being at that time the Galena manager of the M—— Mining and Smelting Company. The Fourth of July was hard upon us, and Dillon was committee hunting that action might be taken to prepare for the advent of this glorious day. On the preceding Fourth no such special arrangements had been made, and a series of wild, deploranle events had_ come off, events that were to be remem- berei long after Galena had passed into the obscurity of most boom camps. Only seven men in the town had not been hilar- ously and rampageously drunk, and these seven were kept very miserable and en- gaged; three of the thirsty majority had died, and it had cost Dillon and some others the entire refitting of their establishments. "The westerners are nothing if not essentia’ trioti whe mayor, the sheriff and I sat in the back room of the saloon, listening intently to Dillon's harangue. After he had given us every opportunity to suggest ways and means for the day of entertainment, fruit- lessly he elucidated to us his own idea of @ program, which was voted on and adopt- ea by unanimous and immediate consent. This narrative deals solely with the first number of the program, so you will be compelled to surmise the others from it. “We wull begin,” says Dillon, “in the mornin’ wid what ye might dishignate a toorymint. This is the w ut: We wuil y thim divils av re rounded up beguile the Dhoys to the backs av the broncos, an’ wull give the best busther av thim a foine fat purse—which he wull spind immejuti: This, ye may understhand, is legitimu Wid ‘excoitement enough to kape aff the raw idge av their timper. Thin we wull—’ but this is as much as concerns Now that species of rough riding which is known in United States un- “proncho busting” is not, as a busine t is brutal and violent uzder any conditions, but when re- sorted to on gala occasi: as a sport it has elements of r that would hav t. to the amphi- Rome. I have only theaters of medieval once seen it in this aspect, though not un- | familiar with the regular $40-per-month skirmisnes. Galena a busy little town. Every man in Montana that could distinguish pay stuff from pyrites of iron extolled it, and it was an actual center of a vast ex- panse of stock country. Dillon’s was the extreme inner point of this centrality; the Meeting house end council chamber of prominent citizens, the rendezvous of a Wide assortment of the erring human animal. Dillion had need to be a splen- @id whip, and he was. Skittish leaders or sullen wheelers, vicious or gentle, all alike felt the strong band on the box. A goodly purse was collected against RIDING AT GALENA — (Copyright, 1898, the 8. S. McClure Co.) : aa UL SULLA LULU UST the coming of the popular event. Dillon's “ante” (his own word) was a hundred, and @ number of others came down handsome- But in the interval between the state- Ment of the idea and the day of fulfillment there arose the necessity for some modi- fication in the plans. Dillon had relied on —- a number of bad and unbroken orses, and on having the many volun- *‘teer riders break them on time, or some- thing of that sort. When the trial was made, however, it was found impossible to bring together the required number of gure-enough bad horses; that is, horses Which could be depended on to make ex- eitement under any circumstances; so a big list of shapped and sombreroed com. petitors could rot, consequently, be oc- commodated. It was decided then that each of the two great cow valleys which converged near Galena should set up its best man, the most superlatively regal of its king busters. This concentrated interest, which, when the eve of the great day really arrived, was possibly several degrees beyond blood temperature. The morning of the Fourth dawned in all th: chaste radiance of July in the foot- Bilis, such a day as recompenses a man for @ year lived in a hut, 150 miles from the nearest railroad artery, and, as they vay in Montana, “only half’ a mile from hell.” As was my invariable wont, I rose early, and hearing that the competition ponies were in the town corral, strolled down to catch a glimpse of them. There ‘were two pontes corralled, fast enough, and I surveyed them from the fence during the burning of a cigarette, going over their Various points with much interest. They were wholly dissimilar, except for that single qualification which made them es- — prectous—thetr plain, staring ma- nancy. The one was a beauty, dark bay, of fair height. peaked and slender, clean, wiry, Toman-nosed and with the wildest patr of ag eyes I ever saw tn any brute. The look of him was actually carnivorous! He had severs) dead men to his record, they told me, and he certainly did have a prop- @r cast for it. I almost doubted if his Achilles existed. The other was far more unhandsome type, a low, flat-backed lamp of a horse, dirty buckskin tn color, mane and foretop moppish and unkempt. Jow-hung head, and slits of eyes scarce a to the thickness of a knife blade. bay should have been a small horse @f blood. but the most unlikely jack-tar could not have mistaken the other for anything but an unmixed lunkhead. My mpathy went first to the man who must stride the symmetrical bay, but I also seen too many cayuses and southern mustangs to disdain the rank, thick-legged yellow. Directly after breakfast those ranch People from the rival valleys, and from li adjacent sections, who had. not been jortunate enough to get in the night be- re, began to concentrate in the camp. roughout the morning they continued to arrive, singly, in twos and threes, and in motley, Jangling, picturesque cavaicades; all sorts of mén on every conceivable kind Of mount, for the most part blithesoms and jocose—humors welt befitting the lax Bronte of thetr singularly hard fe. ion’s place was in @ swiri; the barroom course had ite full quota, strong men nS Be PLR aay ULY there with a purpose; faro, whist—all were going, tled gleefully. It was worth a curious man’s while to sit back and look on. Big men, young and old, bronzed, weather-beaten and grizzled, thrashed about like a mob of public-school- boys on the last day of the term; rough, swashing jests were exchanged; song and repartee, bearing dangerously close ‘to ribaldry, banished all semblance of quiet; and ever and anon some too-exuberant cowpuncher must needs be restrained from emptying his gun into a mirror or through a window. The make-up of the concourse was most cosmopolitan; there were Mex!- cans and Swedes, Texans and Vermon- ters, cross-breeds and Englishmen, New Yorkers and Missourians, each contribut- ing his stock mannerisms, and all blent into one congruous picture of the early, in- land northwest in its gayest neck hand- kerchief. Dillon drew me out to the veranda, “By me soul, ‘twull be beamthiful,” says he. “We have a brace av the beasts as wud stud, draw, and the chips rat- “FOR TWO BLESSED HOURS length the trick was over, and Curlew sig- naled for the gate. He had barely time to draw his sleeve across his fp face when the haif- choked and dewildered pony had leaped, like a flash, to his feet; at the same frac- tional part of a second, Curlew was lightly ensconced in the saddle, stirruped and pull- ing off the pony’s hood. Blinded by the sun, dazed, and frightened by the weight on his back, the bay stood quivering for a short space. But a stinging cut from Cur- lew’s quirt discovered his bondage to him. Up he reared, straight and unhesitating, till, losing his balance, he dropped over backward with an ugly thud, the broad horn of the cowsaddle digging into the ground just where Curlew’s sternum should have been. But the red-haired boy was to one side, waiting. He must have been quick un light, for I assure you the play of the pony was not slow. Again and again the bay rose in the air and repeated the backward fall, Curlew each time eluding it and each time swinging in the saddle as the playful brute came to his feet. It was all incredibly rapid, and how the Loy handled his long, Iccse-jointed legs is yet a mystery to me. There bed pe twelve of these backward half- scmersaults in that ninety-foot corral, and then the maneuver was given over, form- ing merely an vunostentatious prelude to the real tactics of the fight. With a shrill whistle cf rage that brought my heart against my ribs, the bay made several shazp sidelong jumps and then teok to running. Through the corral gate. acrcss the flat, up the steep pitch and into the town he went, the whole company of interested spectators following at their various best paces. Curlew sat him with swaying ease, the hackamore rope hang- ing loose in his hand; he made no attempt to stop or to guide. In the miist of the town the run ended in the inevitable buck, and thenceforth the fun waxed fast and turious. We were not mistaken in our horse; the brute was all his looks indicated—and more. The battle only lasted some fifteen minutes, but in that short space of time he called into ac- tive use every resource of equine trickery and threw himself into every startling con- HE RETAINED THE PACE.” misharse the divil, an’ the bhoys are foine an’ achin' for the sport. Ye'll see ut the day, me son.” He was in merriest spirits himself, and I should have enjoyed some of the effervescence of his rollicking blarney; but his unswerving sense of duty to the day compelled him to drink more frequent- ly than f had reason to believe my experl- ence and capacity would permit, so I was forced to abjure his society. About 10 he got on a table somehow, and announced the riding, and invited the con- testing busters up to throw dice for choice of horse. This called forth uproarfous yells of applause. One of the contestants, the north valley representative, was not pres- ent, but his mentor was, with full power to act. This latter, however, an old ranch foreman with badly bowed legs and a crooked back, called out renewed cheers by remarking that he “reckoned it didn’t make much difference about the throwin’, | as Curlew war satisfied with almost any hoss.”” But the south valley contingent demurred at this, and Dillon routed it as unparlia- mentary. So old Joe and the south valley man cast for choice, and the throw was Joe's. He gruffly chose the horse that should be nearer the corral gate. Then they shook out again for precedence in or- der of riding, and this time the south val- ley broncho buster won, electing to ride second. There was one other contestant, who did not throw—but I am anticipating my story. After these preliminaries all roads point- ed corralward, the exodus even stripping Dillon’s bar of its deft attendants. The corral was situated at the open extremity of the gulch, on a flat of much lower level than that of Dillon's and the other main division of the town. ‘When I got down the flat was cleared for action, and the man called Curlew was pre- tortion that horse anatomy permits of. He bucked straight and sideways and turned, and fell, and reared, and kicked, squealing again and again in that fierce, unholy man- ner, till it seemed impossible that the plucky red-haired rider could longer endure the awful pack-wrenching strain. A fall, too, meant death, for the horse would have slashed him before he touched ground or struck him with front feet as he lay. Dur- ing the first twelve or fourteen minutes of the fight that boy's life was not worth tae value of a cigarette; between rage and fear, the horse was stark mad, and, had there been the sign of an opening, would have leaped headlong into the reputed in- ferno a half a mile below. The plain, straightaway bucking of him was in itself something to wonder at. He seemed to go second-story high each time, and when just at the apex of his jump, would fling both forelegs above his head, in approved bridle-fighter fashion, or lash out behind with such wickedness ‘as to make his back almost perpendicular. Once he bucked into the blacksmith’s shop, where only Curlew's unfailing coolness saved his brains. Another blind leap landed the crazy creature on the hotel veranda, from which he immediately threw himself off back- ward. A shout of horror went out from the more impressionable onlookers, but by some strange skill or fortuity the boy cleared himself and was in the saddle again when the horse scrambled to his feet. As the moments wore on and his whole repertoire of strength and strategy was worked through, without in the least un- fixing his rider, the white-eyed pony began to lose heart; it was the first time that any man had been so tenacious of g:vip, and gradually his leaps became weaker and less vicious. Then Curlew’s quirt and blood- seeking spurs urged him to more vigorous efforts, but even these could not much “THE BOY CLUNG LIKE A BARNACLE.” paring to ride. It was my first glimpse of him, a tall, loose-jointed, long-limbed (hence the nickname), red-haired boy of perhaps five and twenty, drawling and good natured, with the most surpassing and un- affected air of nonchalance imaginable. He was evidently the equestrian idol of his valley—if one dare assume broncho bust- ing to be equestrianism—for the advice and encouragement that were volunteered him would have bolstered a much more nervous man. He smiled back jocularly, and, under old Joe’s tutelage, discarded ail superfiuous a) — and fittings, buckling his straps “0 about him. m the arrival of the crowd at the corral the glass-eyed bay been nearer the >. and so ‘twas with him that Curlew iad to deal. The rules of the contest ex- acted that each man saddle his own horse, and, lariat in hand, the hatless, red-haired boy entered the corral alone. He was slow, almost listless, in his movements; but ther Was @ loose, easy grace to him, and w! his rope arm shot out from a trail, it was as swift and as sureas the stroke of a moc- casin. He wag foi to snub and throw the horse, and then hood mB gor eyes; saddling was a matter to-tak @ enthusi- asm out of @ man new to the work, but at longer sustain the engagement. Dripping with blood and sweat, nearly dead with fatigue, and entirely shorn of his pride, he finally succumbed, and permitted himself to be guided about at the rider's will. 4 heavy-throated cheer burst from the crowd, and Curlew, rather pale and weak, but ever smiling, was rapturously 4: ons Prag saddie and Cg ey into Dition’s, an inert monument of glory to his merry ~~ demonstrative, friends.” ‘ter the hero, his worshi; » the an- tagonistic party, and all outsizers had been duly refreshed, which required little time, we bent ourselves In to the mat- ter in-hand, and prepared to witness the re bout of the man against horse bat- There was almost as wide a difference the appearance of the two riders as be: a ae bay oe the buckskin. The sout ley. ¢hampion was much shorter than ae nd else knit. It rad seen cont ‘terity of the lanky, red-haired boy have esteemed this the likelier_ man, movements. were alert and he showed much experience; in com; almost black, with a bearded and somewhat sinister face—“Charley Raw. , late av N'Mixico, an’ bad whin he's | distance. @hrinkin’,” as Dillon catalogued him. The buckskin pony remained in his down- cast posture and allowed the New Mexican to saddle him unresistingly, merely cock- ing his hairy ears—one forward and the other back—and watching behind through the tail of his slitted eye, I was standing alongside old Joe during this peaceful over- ture, and noted the old man’s chuckle, grim and ominous, Charley led his anount out from the cor- ral to the flat, his finely work- ed Mexican hat i Oyer his eyes, vaulted cleanly to his The yellow pon! waked up imme ‘and took the bu not wildly and f ly, as tha bay had done, but in a » Matter-of-fact sort of way that convin it was his natural gait. Just as horse might have galloped or trott this beast buck, and for two blesg; jurs maintained the pace without a iter Nor in all that heart-breaking period fdid ‘his Iin2al prog- ress exceed 100 yardsf It was most aston- ishing, not one‘ movement was made, he simply and on, each jump baing almost sei , that is, landing with his head where his tail had started from, and vice versa. This is what the ‘punchers call chang- ing ends, and it is hot difficult to imagine the effect of such @ protracted merry-go- round sensation on the rider. The buck- ing was neithsr high nor fierce, but the strain of that continuous swirl must have been racking. There was one slight varia- tion which the scrubby buckskin allowed himself in his system, though this was of such nature as to be rather disconcerting to a rider with a head already far from steady. It was to turn in the air after the usual fashion, but instead of alighting on stiffened legs, to fall clumsily on one side, the pony saving himself by bending a fore- leg back under ‘him. It was an ugly trick to evade, and the black New Mexican must have been clear grit to hold his own so long. His face grew pallid and drawn, and after a while his stomach revolted. At the close of the second hour he was helpless; his will was still in the thing, but his body was limp and ineffective, and the blood trickled from his nos2 and ears. The pony still worked with the monotonous regularity of a steam exhaust, and the end was unquestionably rear. When it came, the man was sprawled to one side, and the horse immediately laps2d into his usual drooping attitude of watch- ful sleepiness. Some of us ran to assist Rawlins, who lay just as he had fallen, too weak to rise. But he waved us back; his face was malignant with shame and anger, and distortsd by pain; altogether, with the pallor and the blood-streaked beard, he was not an exhilarating sight. Rolling over to his side, he raised himself partially on an elbow, and before we could close in on him, had drawn his Colt’s and fired. The big gun spoke sharply, and with a moan that was almost human the buckskin pony lurch2d heavily to the greund. We reached Rawlins in time to take the smoking revolver from,his nerveless grasp; but as he fell back agatn, I heard him mut- ter thickly: “There, curse ye, y’ mud-skin- ned hall-hound! Ye'll wear no more men out!” The prostrate bronco-buster’s friends had taken him up, and Dillon was in the midst of a brilliant address, awarding with much ornate language the purse to Curlew, when an incident in form of anticlimax took the floor from the speaker, and wound up the sport with a h2arty burst of good-natured acclamation. I had the history of this incident after- ward. It seems that the boys of the town —the juveniles, I mean—had organized and schemed to place én unregistered and un- expected entry in the contest; and their scheme was eminently successful—and amusing. The camp supported a Httle hajf-breed rat of about twelve years, a marvel in his love tor, and command over, horses; he must have been born and rear- ed upon their backs, se easily did he be- ccme them. It was this urchin, Pedro by name, who was elected to represent the younger faction in the riding. There was one difficulty that would have baffled most boys; no bad horse was forthcoming, but Pedro was so extremely indifferent as to the nature or build’of his mount that even this was an easy adjustment. At the ex- treme upper end of the town was a butch- er’s cow corral, and in it confined a bunch of cattle new from the range; one of these, @ great red and white four-year-old ste2r, was selected, and Pedro eagerly started on his ride to fame. Dillon was getting well warmed to his much-prepared and patriotic oration, when Pedro and the frantic steer appeared, rush- ing down the pitch from the town above. There was an unrestrained howl from the assemblage, in which even Dillon joined, and the dirty, dare-devil brat shot out an answering grin from the careening bask of his astonished steer.’ It was a thing to make that old gulch quiver with laugh‘er. Some one had dressed the boy especially for the game; he had on a pair of heavy fringed, full-sized shaps, at least eight inches too long for him, and only kept from entirely covering His feet by the shanks of a pair of huge Mexigan spurs, all bells and bangles. His impish face was surmounted by a five-inch sombréro, a heavy quirt in onc hand and in the other a coil of rawhide lariat, which was looped only over the steer’s horns. And how that animal was twisting himself, head down and tail up! But the boy clung like a barnacle, by what means I have no con- jecture. ‘It is well known that a steer has no withers, that he can buck through the cinches of any saddle, and a cowboy with- out his saddle is not formidable. Yet there was that lean qoune heathen, hampered by the awkward trappings they had put on him, perched on his arching, ungirdled steed, with all the pert composure of a tomtit on a pump handle, which is old Joe's simile. “Cum aff av that, ye young limb,” shout- ed Dillon, as the steer rushed madly by us; the boy waited, however, till the crowd ‘was passed, and then, skillfully twitching his rope from the steer’s horns, slid harm- lessly to the ground. He could scarce walk for the grotesque accouterments, but when he did reach us, the boys greeted him riot- ously. “Give the money to the kid,” said Cur- lew, laconically. “That's a trick I can’t do,” and, ’midst clamors of commendation and assent, the breed urchin was given the purse. CARLOS PILGRIM. ————— ———__+e. RANGE OF THE HONEY BEB. How the Distance Traveled by the Bees Can Be Determined. From the Baltimore American, The range of the honey bee is but little understood by the masses, many supposing that bees go for miles in quest of nectar, while others think that they go only a short It may be curious to many to unde-stahd how any one can tell how far the bees ‘nay fly, but this {s simple when understood. Years ago, when the Italian bees were first introduced in the United Btates, these -bees, having marks different to the common bees ‘already here, they were very easily distinguished, and after any bee keeper had obtained the Italian bees they could be observed and their range easily noticed. If bloom is plentiful close where bees are located they will not go very fer, perhaps a mile in range, but if bloom is scarce they may go five miles. Usually about three miles is as far as they may @0 profitably. Bees have been known to go as far ag eight miles in a s line, crossing a body of water that distasce to land. It is wonderful how the jittle hoi so far from its home and ever find its way back to its own pafticutar hive. If, while the Httle bee is out of itshome or hive, the hive should be moved some tep to twenty feet, according to the surroun when it camie beck to where ‘its home was first located it would be hopelessly lost. If its home was in an open space with no other objects close, it might find its wa: me, but even should theihive: be tmoved a few feet, many of tht bees would: get lost. So to move a hive, if done in the winter time, it would be ali right, but if in the summer time it should -be done after dark, -or when the bees arq not flying, and even then the bees should be.atirred up some, and smoke blown in,at the hive entrance, and a board or some jobject placed in of the hive, so that the bees in coming out may mark their now location. doubt, are guided by of smell. i by their sense of smell, for they after sweets even if in the dark, if brah beg a ripe Fedele may be in glass in sigh: covered, ft smell, the will notice of it. = Sinise m bees “Leave the house,” cried. little seaeine: a brave bluff of a intend to, my small, friend," burglar, courteously, ‘I am do it through the renular real ¢4 t : nels.” —Harper’s lis E EE i THE CASINO BEACH AT DIEPPE, AT GAY TROUVILLE Where Parisians Enjoy Life in Their Own Peculiar Way. GAYETY CENTERS IN THE CASINO Gambling and Racing Are More Popular Than Bathing. DIEPPE IS MORE STAID a ed Spectal Correspondence of The Bvening Star. TROUVILLE, June 23, 1898. HEN A FRENCH casino it is no resort at all, but what they call a petit trou pas cher, “a little hole not dear.” “No one resorts to it. Fami- lies find themselves there for the health- fulness and quiet. A casino is the first sign that a beach is waking up. And the first sign of a casino is the cool, airy buildings, fluttering with flags and awnings. It has shaded prome- nades and terraces. It has music. It haS fireworks. In the afternoon it causes women to wake up and dress. Its evening entertainments cause men to sleep late of mornings. Undoubtedly the life of casinos is not the highest form of existence, and from the more aristocratic point of view its mixed society leaves much to be desired. But there are casinos and casinos. It would be hard to imagine, for example, what the ordinary visitor to Dieppe could find to compensate him for the entertainment of the Etablissement. I take it that the Dieppe casino stands for the most respect- able and family-like form of this continent- al seaside feature. You cannot even bathe in comfort without patronizing it. The beach at Dieppe is naturally a mass of bowlders, varying in size from cobblestones to marbles. Only the casino folk® have thought it worth while to clear away the worst of these foot and knee lacerating nuisances. The casino grounds include a gcod strip of the best part of the beach. Their bath houses are the prettiest and cleanest. Their attendants ar3 the most numerous and the most polite. Their awn- ings are the only awnings on the beach. Only Place of Shade. For that matter there are many things in Dieppe that one can do only at the ca- sino. The hotels are far back from the sea, across a stretch of blistering sand. If you desire to sit and watch the waves and listen to the moaning of the deep you must give up a franc and watch and listen underneath the awnings of the casino. The rambling building, with its long, cool porches, stretches far along the sands. There is no other shade. Back in the old town, it is true, there are cool streets be- tween cool, old stone houses. Outside of the town, upon the cliffs, there are cool drives and shady groves, with orchards, meador running streams and jolly little villages. But on the beach the best of everything is taken up by the casino, and to the casino visitors must look for half their comfort. Go through a single day of the Dieppe routine and you will quickly see how much casino Ife must count for even in so fa- vor:d a spot as this large Norman coast town with its interesting suburbs. You are not obliged to live in a hotel, but may have lodgings {n the town. In either case, how- ever, finishing your morning coffee, roll and pat of butter, there is nothing to be done but take a morning ride through the green countryside. Many take an early dip into tha sea from the casino beach. And tour- ists find-a pleasure in exploring the quaint life and architecture of the town. Apart from this you must take to the country. It is joyful, when the heart is young, to whoop it up through forest glades, to sit upon the orchard-covered cliffs and carol free while drinking Norman cider. It is gay to troop through old chat inspect romantic ruins and sit down to iunch in some chance village auberge; and it is com- forting to roll back into coo} stone-built Dieppe again and sleep till 4 ‘clock in the long aft2rnoon. But it is seaside life. The seaside life begins and ends with the casino, Attracts the Women. - At 4 p.m. the women are beginning to get up and put on their smart frocks; and the chief thing about a smart frock is that it must be seen and admired, This ts why th2 women flock to the casino in the after- y8 sweetly, while tb its ac- companiment a thousand ple sit and chat and flirt decorously. dreds gamble through the afternoon at the cheap tables'of the “little horses. the gambling is not serious, at Trouville. Whole families theaters. But promenadss to theater has the best Procured from . Here at Trouville the casino life is more Pretentious, more expensive, faster and has much lgss flavor of the family. The Trou- ville casino has no grounds to speak of, does not own the beach and does not set up asa entertainmant monopoly. Trou- ville has one of the finest beaches in tha Id, administered diences, who must be entertained by the most noted Paris artistes. Clubmen and horsey men find themselves very much at home. Parisian ladies of society find it amusing to come her2 and mingle in a Ife they are supposed to more or less ignore in Paris. The Trouville Casino, to be frank, is rich but fast. The theory of the government in France today is that all kinds of gambling are wrong—in cities. Ths multitude must be saved from temptation. So, in Parts, if you want to bet upon the races you mus? go out to the track and do it. There are no pool rcoms and no commission houses in the capital or any other large French town. In this way, also, baccarat, roulette and rouge- et-noir may not b> played in “open” clubs, to which admission is an easy farce. In tire real clubs the members gamble *o their earts’ content; put not the multitude. Now, following this line of thought, the explanation of the Trouville baccarat ap- Fears. The multitude has no par: in the Trouville life. Trouville is too expensiy and the Paris multitude ts saving. At J). eppe, where people crowd more thickly, bac- carat or any serious gambling is prehibited. At the most you may put down a dollar on “littls horses. Here at Trouville, where the upper crust of sporting lize has found its place, the salle de baccarat cou'd not be told from that at Monte Carle. As And, as at mix2d. - married girls do not frequent the Trouville Casino. Society women may do any:hing. The others, quite as richly dressed %nj al- most quite as well behaved, moye with Breat freedcm from the music hall to che cafe and from the cafe to the hall of bac- carat. The great sin is not to have suffi- cient money to keep up th» pace. A Calm Retreat. | Taking the sea air by night in this way, Trouville is peaceful beyond words all through the morning. Just across the way the really aristocratic little town of Deau- ville goes through its calm, family-lik> rou- tine, extremely English, where the mothers and their daughters bathe in great se sion, play lawn tennis, drive in dog carts, take quiet naps and brace up on tea at 5 p.m. Deauville only touches Trouville at the point of the Casino; and the fathers and th» brothers are the only ones wa touch it. It is true that th? Trouville hotels have quantities of rich folk in them; but if they do not themselves make the tapage of the liveliest beach on the Fr=nch coas*, tn enjcy it—or they would not come to Trou- ville. The Trouville morning is extremely peace- ful. Half the peopl: are asleep. The little town is at the bottom of high cliffs, a two- mile semicircle of hotels and villas, backed by the few streets of the old fishing village, climbing upward. The semicircle of hotels and villas faces an »xpanse of beach more than half a mile in breadth at low tide. The sea and sky are all pale blue and hazy white; the sands are creamy white, dotted with gay tents and big umbrellas; the ho- tels and villas go in for strip2d awnings, and look coolly dark fn the shade of the great cliffs, on whose tops, away up, are the apple orchards. If there is high tide you may see certain bathing in the morn- ing. They still take the s2a at Trouviile, though sea bathing is not the great feature. As the Trouville morning slides along the restaurant verandas of the hotels and cafes begin to show some signs of life. On the boardwalk they begin to take a promenade for appetite, the men in serges, flannels and light “business suits,” the women evea in shirt waists! They will have lots of tim> to change again for the first public function of the day, upon the rac2 course. It is the race course here at Trouvillé that divides the public life with the Casino. The Time for Gosnips. The “world” comes only to a conscious- ness of itself again each day at 3 p.m. upon the grand stand. Every one knows every one, or else pretends to. The gossip of these coteries is taken up where it left off at night. The conduct of So-and-So’s sta- ble trainer, the conduct of So-and-so's hus- band, the extravagance of this young man and the exuberance of this young woman take up more time to discuss than the most famous triumphs of diplomacy and war. I actually believe that half the people here imagine that the United States are’ situat- ed somewhere down in South America! Much has been said against the fairness of the seaside race track here in France, de- spite the great names of the horses’ own- ers. Perhaps the explanation lies in the fact that the present-day stable proprietor knows nothing about the management of his property. Leaving Menodgiag. as he does, to his English trainer, in blind con- fidence, his horses are run as the trainer — to win or run to lose. Un- ubtedly some strange things are seen on the Trouville-Deauville race course. Un- doubtedly the people clamor and express ai throughout the afternoon. And—as undoubtedly—they whisper and plead with each other for the magic thing they all be- Heve in—the “right tip.” Waking With the Twilight. Do you think these folk are the kind to overlook the joys of the Casino after din- ner? The women make Gelicious toilettes, and the men put on theif “smokers,” that z F be 8 3 3 and Anna Held their H , 8 i f BR, F F i i é : fi 5 if I 5 5 a 5 E H °§ 9° =x 2 n 4 FS z m z e < Oo a z fo) 4 B 3 i I | nesday. They will occupy a car attached to the special train of the east Pennsylva- nia delegation. Governor Robert L. Taylor of Tennessee will deliver the address of welcome at the convention,speaking for the state. Rev. Ina Landrith, chairman of the committee of "#8, will speak for the committee, and Rev. J. I. Vance will speak for the pastors. Mr. Percy S. Foster of this city will lead one of the large choruses, and Mr. E. O. Excell of Chicago leads the other. The District Endeavorers will have their headquarters while in Nashville in Moore Memorial Presbyterian Church, on Broad street, opposite Stonewall street. Rev. An- gus McDonald is its pastor. It has a mem- bership of 410, has property worth $30,000 and is the second largest church of its denomination in the city. The Hndeavorers and other members of Mcunt Vernon Place M. E. Church South will send their pastor, Rev. J. W. Duffey, to the Nashville convention. The C. E. Society in this church has its semi-annual installation of officers at 7 o'clock tomor- Tow evening. President and Mrs. Francis E. Clark have recently returned to this country from tendance on the British national C. E. convention held in Glasgow, Scotland, May 28-31. Twenty buildings were necessary to accommodate this convention. During the past year Great Britain enrolled 34,075 new members and 927 new societies, mak ing 220,240 British Endeavorers in all. A message was sent to the Nashville conven- tion on a Union Jack. The international convention will be held in London in 1900. The board of officers and officers-elect of the District C. E. Union held a conference last Monday evening, at which plans for the next District convention wers form lated, and other union work profitably. di cussed and plans laid dent-elect Deidrich will attend the Nash. ville convention next week, whore it is ex- pected he will secure the consent of one or two of the ablest divines of the country to take places on the program of ths coming District convention, which will probably be held in this city next January. Practically all the Endeavor societies of the District wilt tomorrow use the topic, “Honoring Father and 8 5 Mother.” Scripture Seevnan is found in Ephesians 6:1-4, and To’ 8 17: 21, 2 Writing on t topic, Rev. Theodore L. " ee Cuyler, D. D., of Brook- lyn says: “The family is the earliest and most potent training school for this world and for the next; and at the starting point of a vast majority of the best Christian lives stands @ faithful Christian mother. Truly godly parents really repressnt. God in the household; they get their authority directly from him; and therefore the willful dishonoring of such parents is willful dis- honoring of God. There is not the slightest hope of any whol>some religious and soul- converting influence in any family where fhe, Parental authority is trampled under foot.”” The Christian Endeavor meetings at Fort Myer, necessarily interrupted by parture of the 6th Cavalry for the south, and the arrival at the post of new troop have again been resumed, the various s0- cleties of th> city formerly interested eagerly again taking up the work of assist- ing. The interest of the new troops is not lacking, but is evidenced by the splendid attendance on the meeting the third Sun- day evening of last month, in charge of the Endeavorers of the New York Avenues Presbyterian Church, led by Mr. Charles F. Nesbit. Comrades of the Quiet Hour to the num- ber of 8.717 are now enrolled. The subje for meditation for July is “Loy Some months ago Gensral Secretary John Willis Baer, in charge of the Tenth Legion enrotiment, asked that the enrollment. be made 10,000 by the time the Nashville con- vention takes place. The “Christian En- deavor World this week announces that that point has now been reached. FORCE OF A PROJECTILE. The Path of the Shell Th; The New York Herald prints a report of the correspondent of the London Telegraph at Guantanamo describing the effects of the projectile that struck the Texas while she was silencing rhore batteries during the army landing at Baiquiri. The corres- pondent said: “The projectile was a steel six-inch shell, fired, it Is believed, from one of the high- Power ship's guns that have been mounted on the fortifications since Admiral Cer- vera’s fleet was blockaded in Santiago har- bor. It struck the Texas on the port bow, between the gun deck and the spar deck, bursting in the forward compartment, where there are six 6-pounder guns, three on either side. The crews of all these guns were at quarters and there were besides a number of other men in the compartment at the time. “It is miraculous that only one man was killed and cight wcunded. The part of the ship hit is outside the central citadel and above the protected deck. The sides of the ship at the point of impact consisted of a steal plate one end a quarter inches thick. The shell pierced this lke so ph paper, hit a metal stanchion amidships nd exploded about seven feet from the plating on the starboard side. A noteworthy fea- ture of the stzel plating was that it af- forded no eplinters or debris to carry in- board. It"was torn into ribbons and folded back in @ way that gave the impression that the tough mctal had been half melted by the impact and passage of the projectile. The shock, however, was not sufficient to explode the shell, and had it missed the stanchion it would have passed through the starboard side and possibly exploded outside the ship. Unfortunately, the ion was directly in the path of the shell, and the heavy metal column offered enough re- sistance to explode it. The effect was tre- rific. Altbough the shell was only a small one, six inches in diameter, and, therefore, not weighing more than about seventy pounds, it practically wrecked the big com- Fartment in which it burst, while the smoke from it forced itself down the ammunition hoists and into the forward compartments of the ship, so that for a few minutes the almost suffocatea. The stanch- was shivered into atoms for two feet of its length, and the fragments of the burst shell, flying forward against the starboard side, bulged the stout steel plates outward