Evening Star Newspaper, July 23, 1898, Page 18

CHAPTER XXVIL The Bombardment. h of January, at 5 fell in Parts. first sl fort ef Vai t. explod nt later, t was h huge projectile da from the neared the street. Jewalk, her gray ha’ er on th Prophet. Ac rwest. )7 in the af- > The tle entered tHe city a little northeast | plunged into ng with frightful force. ¢ ominous quaver of an- Porte | seemed to hang » d'Ypres, growing larger and Suddenly it ng the rooftops with a hail n fragments, wrecking chimneys and | i showering the street with shatter- old woman ran shrieking along the r dripping with ramparts lay ‘The artillery- ir amazement and ap of ns, a white cloud, | stu d the Prophet. But | colorless lips scarcely moved. Yolette put one arm around her and turned to the Mouse. “What message have you for M. Bourke?” she askea. “Did M. Harewood not send a message “Yes,” said the Mouse. “He wants to see j him. It was not until last night that those sacre Prussians gave me a chance to leave the fort. We have been there since Le Bourget, when monsieur was shot as he left the church.” fie did not ada that he had half carried, half dragged Harewood across the Mollette | under a frenzied fusillade from the Prussian | pickets. He was a coward as cowards go. His very ferocity proved it. Yet he had instinctively clung to Harewood when & bullet through the leg knocked him sprawl- ing. He had hauled him out of the Prus- sian fire, much as a panther hauls its young from a ccmmon danger, with no reason in the world that human minds | could fathom, totally unconscious that he | deserved credit. The Mouse had received | Harewood’s thanks with ennui, if not sus- Picion, and now it never occurred to him to say that he had saved Harewood’s life, although, like most criminals, he was a keen appreciator of the dramatic. No— what occur the meager brain of the Mouse was the fear that Bourke might re- turn and learn from Hilde and Yolette | that he, the Mouse, bad been looting. | He looked sidewise at Yolette, who was | leading Hilde to the bed room. He listened pidly to the paroxysms of grief when Hilde flurg herself on the bed. That was all very «nfusing, but what would Bourke of a shell. | say? He looked down at his blackened t trembled | hands, at the bludgeon still gripped in one rocked and | bleeding fist, evidences of his share in the sas the Prophet | Tiotous night's work. south were flamin; embras south ‘overed wit d the Pr m every t es and quays, ers of the city. = the Rue i nce Mur ® ; the baxter- | rn bastions of | 1 smoke: | he demanded ng fire fs ts, on the | Cowered against the wall, drawing her feet squares ; death and cestri Malaise atoms; a woman runring for | t barracks was | | “Mince! je me sauve!” he blurted out, nd | and at the same moment he saw Red Rid- ing Hood staring at him from the sofa. “What are you making eyes at, hein sullenly, “Perhaps you are going to say I was pillaging houses.” The child, seized with a fit of shivering, in_under her nightdress. The Mouse regarded her fiercely, twirling ee | his bludgeon between his blackened fingers. Then, apparently satisfied that she was too terrified to understand, he pulled his cap over his sightless eye, put the blud- > Rue @’Ypres. A con-} S€0n in his pocket and started toward the fediy= tworabilis en: | dd0r-/ afore thax went lautsinerneaitaten: toré the helpless | The sight of the frightened child seemed nt in his ames of burt ng houses. ream and h bly frightful. g of the tocsi »oming of drum nte, Hilde him dro rrow street, with I women and veiled, st into thi h Killed a poor m in the Rue the the ‘aster and faster came night added to the horror of the darkness was lighted with the The uproar of of shells, the ens of the cannon blended b At mo- lulls of the uproar, the was heard, the and Yolette = Hilde to forget row: childre ran hither | p; Some | w ave tall » worm- ling, flew ed with the There came to exercise a certain fascination for him. He looked back, frowning, just to see whether it would frighten her a little more, It did, but strangely enough her fear gave him no gratification. “Voyons, petite, do I scare you?” he asked, curiously. “Yee whispered the child. A curious sensation, an unaccountable thrill, some- thing that had never come over him before, sent the blood tingling in the Mouse's large ears. He peered at the child nar- ly Yon’t look like that,” he said, “for I ain't going to hurt you.” d with terror. A shell| The child was silent. r of the street and ou're cold,” said the Mouse, awkward- ses. Bourke had been ‘Go to bed.” noon, and Yolette’s fright I'm afraid,” she whispered. asked the Mouse, nking of the heart. ; and the shells.” knock the head off any pig of a ian who harms you,” said the Mouse, his club. >u never mind the Th Now are with a a, one?” A glow of pleas- se’S ears again. Then med, then he looked at the he wondered why he should = pleasure in teling the little thing not afrati. For a while they contem- ed each other in silence; then the child When you were in the Rue d’Ypres t nake you split wood. Do you d the Mouse, much gratified. corner of the a ‘ att nd you were afraid of the lon,” pur- : and eeackie as | sued Red Riding Hood. ee e “Dame,” muttered the Mouse, “I am afraid yet." The child laughed—such a sad, thin It- tle laugh. The Mouse, to please her, made Jan awful ars ow Yoh ery) toward the boulevard ne, many on t even in guns fire was But quarter. the streamed thickes cks ys toward t fre M machine. tered the arted to now bright om the burntag hou: and Red Rid! * muttered F re he is? Ide, me w him If heard she criz4, panted 2d a crowd of ng through the , motioning k against e and Red the was ruddy with the S; the shells stream- Pantheon Serpente, some |. Some on Val de Grace and a r of the Prus- ¥; now the covered with Luxemburg, now the shells > hospitals, the - churches, palaces and great the d falling in the Rue the cellars, pile slunk off 2 came up on a Bands hallway ring the attention, in the full Red Riding nd into the little illuminated by the on the Hood fol- tor- breathless, “tell pat have you done with the Mouse with rimace and winked with his ght tay with us now?” asked the ehild. The innocent question compl ely upset he idea that he was wanted the sensation of protecting any- > new, so utterly astonishing, at habitual suspicion was car- ried away in the overwhelming novelty of the proposition. Red Riding the Mouse. anywh even h Hood rose from the sofa, went to the bed and climbed in, then turn. gravely to the Mouse. Don't let anything harm us,” she sald. “Good night.” For a long Stared at the time the Mouse stood and pale little face on the pillow. i An Old Woman Ron Shrieking. There were blue circles under the closed eyes; the clustering black hair cast shad- ows over the hollow temples. The exhaus- tion from hunger, fatigue and frigat brought sleep to tired lds. Even when flash fists clenched re | Yolette and Hilde came in the- child did peat swore to me that | Dot wake. » Me > vo with ‘ius, temé ‘Seer becca I'm going to stay,” said the Mouse, sul- keep him from harm! You siunk out of the | lenly. “If the shells come the little giri house with that promise to me—and I let | Will be frightened. you go—l promised to say nothing to the | As he spoke he furtively felt for some others. What have you done with him?” | purloined silver forks that filled one “He's been shot,” gasped the Mouse, “he | pocket, found them still there, glanced maliciously at Yolette and coughed gently. ed Hilde. “Where is the Nanterre fort?’ asked growled the Mouse. “I | Hilde, faintly. he continued, wi ‘I started look— mademoi: to nd M. Bourke, but when I w Rue d'Ypres you all had decamped. a cringing and quite hy . I met some friends I was gcing to tell made- nt | The Mouse explained in a weird whisper, * | apparently much relieved that nobody of- fered to examine his pockets. “Is he all alone?” asked Hilde. “Parbleu! There’s not much society in was not stealing!” he whined, | the casemates,” olserved the Mouse ‘no, S furtively around, “no, indeed, [| ROr mary surgeons to spare. I'm goin, ng, as the others did. You will | back to him tomorrow.” He said it indif- ke that! You will tell M.|ferently; he might have added that he e I was not pillaging houses.” was going at the risk of his life, but risks were lo M. Harewood?" interrupted | were too common at that time to occupy the attention of even such a coward as the g to tell said the Mouse, | Mouse. Wherever he went there were shells and bullets and bayonets now, and that M. Harewood is in the case- | it mattered little whether they were French of the erre Fort—very sick | or Prussian. hey cut bullet out. And it is He boldly rattled the silver forks In his God is my | pocket, leered, pulled his cap lower, for m a pin.’ the reflection of the flames annoyed him, olette, sniveled and said: “A la guerre comme a Ja guerre mes- dames." At «he same moment burried steps sound- WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR: (BY ROBT W-CHAMBERS: ed on the landing. Yolette opened the door and Bourke entered. When he saw Yolette and Hilde he could not speak at first. “Don't, don’t,” sobbed Yolette; “we are ali safe—all of us. It was you that I feared for. Oh, if you knew, if you knew. ~ “I was in the Rue d’Ypres,” stammered Bourke. ‘The shells rained on the ram- parts, and I ran to the Prince Murat bar- racks. I never dreamed they were shelling this part of the city until somebody said ; the Luxembourg had been struck. Then I | came. Yolette, look at me! Good God, what a fool I was!” She clung around his neck, smiling and weeping, telling him she should never again let him go away. Hilde was silent. The Mouse fidgeted by the door. The child slept. Then Hilde spoke of Harewood, of his message sent by the Mouse. Yolette cried out that she could not let Cecil go away THE NEXT MOMENT HE WA again, and Bourke, devoured by anxiety questioned the Mouse until that young ban* dit’s mind was a hopeless chaos. : cen't ask him to go, Hilde, plored her sister. “Oh, how’ can you ask Cecil to go to the fort, when you know what they are doing out there? I can't let him go—I cannot!” “If Jim is not In danger I can go out with the next escort,” said Bourke gravely. “If he is, then I must go at once.” The Mouse was vague; he didn't know what might happen since they cut out the bullet. His habitual distrust of doctors, of science in all its branches, made it plain to Bourke that there was nothing accurate to be learned from him. The Mouse lingered a minute or two, watching the sleeping child in the bed. Bourke told him he might go and he went as a dismissed dog goes, apologetically, halt resent 1, half cor pry, clutching the forks in’ his pocket with’ dirty fingers. Hilde turned and went into her room, clos- ing the door behind her. “I must sleep with the child,” said Yo- lette wakes in the night and trem- bles so I almost fear she may die of fright. Cecil, is there any danger now from the shells {don’t know,” he said. “I will lie down in the kitchen. If they bombard the quar- ter again we must go to the cellar. To- morrow I am going to take you and Hilde and Red Riding Hood to the American minister's. And, my darling, before we go you must marry me.” “Marry—now!” faltered Yolette. “Otherwise the American minister cannot protect you. If you are my wife he is bound to do so. 1 can’t stand this sort of thing; the city has gone distracted, nobody 1s safe outside an embassy. The Prussians must respect our flag, dear, and anarchists and kindred ruffians dare not enter the embassy. Shall I tell you what has hap- pened jn the Rue d'¥pres? A gang of communists, cutthroats and thieves have broken open our house and are carousing in the cellar with our red wine. Stauffer, Mortier and Buckhurst are there, and they will do us mischief if they have a chance.” He went up to her and drew her head down to his shoulder. “Will you marry me tomorrow, Yolette?’ he asked, “so that I can leave you safe at the embassy and go to my friend?” “Yes,” she whispered, then threw both arms about him in a passion. of tenderness and fear, CHAPTER XXVII. An Underground Affair, When the Mouse left the Rue Serpente the bombardment had shifted to the south- ern forts, and the southeast secteurs of the fortifications were covered with ex- ploding shells. As he slunk across the city he could hear the fracas of the distant bombardment, and he gave the danger zone wide berth. His mind was preoccu- pied by two problems—how to conceal his silver forks and how to get back to the Nanterre fort. The second problem could wait till morn- ing, the first needed serious study. He already possessed one burrow. It was in” the cellar of the house in ®he Rue a’Ypres. For, while doing menial service for Bourke and Harewood, he had managed to abstract booty from neighboring windows—a spoon here, a silk handkerchief there—nothing much, but still a modest littl heap of plunder, which he had concealed in the cellar of the house on the ramparts. ‘There- fore, his first instinct ied him back to tke Rue d’Ypres, where, if the cachette in the cellar rereained undisturbed, he could fur- ther avail himself of it by depositing the forks with the rest of the loo! “Thrift,". muttered the Mouse, “cannot be too early acquired. Sapristi! One must live in this world of bandits!” As he crossed the Boulevard Mortpar- nasse he saw that the railroad station wes on fire. For a moment he hesitated—there might be fine pickings yonder—but prud- ence prevailed, and he shambled on, scan- ning the passersby with crafty face half averted, bludgeon swinging, cap over ene eye, the incarnation of commun‘sm mili- tant. Affrighted citizens gave him room, turned and looked after him as though in him they saw the symbol of all that was secret and dreadful In che city—the embodied shape of anarchy—the om!nouz prophet of revolution. He passed on, swaggering when prudent cringing when the sentries of the guard, facing the devastated streets, halted to look after him. lanterns raised. At such moments he cursed them as loud as he cared; sometimes, when far enough away, he would insult them with gestures and epithets, gratifying to his vanity beranse of the slight risk such amusement en- tailed. He rattled the forks in his pocket as he walked; once or twice he broke into song—a doggerel verse or two of some sen- imental bariere ditty that attracted him because, sike criminals of his type, he adored sentiment—in song. He thought of Harewood, lying in the casemates of the Nanterre fort. Would he live or die? His wound had turred séibad that the eur- geons began to loak at_him in that musing Way that even the dying understard. The Mouse scratched: his ear; dead or alive, he must fim his’way back to Hare- wood; for the necessity that he felt for Harewood's company left him restless as a lost cur. +f He thought often of Red Riding Hood. She was so small and thin and so afraid of him that he wondered why he thought of her at all. In his-burrow he had buried an infant's silver cup. This he decided to pre- sent to Red Riding Hood when he could @o so without fear of aspersions on his hon- esty. He chuckled as he thought how it would please that! childshe would look at him with those big eyes—she would per- haps smile—Nom de Dieu!—what a droll young one! And so he came to the house on the ramparts in the Rue d’¥Ypres. The cellar of the house was reached from the garden through a flight of stone steps. The heavy slab that closed the man-hole had no_ padlock. The Mouse, on his hands and knees, groped about in the dark, stumbling among dead weeds and broken cucumber frames, puffing, and cursing, until, withdut any warning, he almost feil into the man-hole itself. Startled, alert; he crouched breath- less by the slab on the grass. Somebody had removed it; somebody then was in the cellar! Stealthily he crawled into the man-hole and descended the first three steps. His worn shoes made no noise; he crept three steps further. At the end of the cellar, in the full light of a lantern on the floor, sat three men. Two of them wore the uniforms of officers of the carbineers: the third was in civilian éress. heir voices were indistinct, but their features were not, and the Mouse fairly bristled as he recognized them. They were Stauffer, Mortier and Buckhurst. The first thought of the Mouse was in- stinctively personal. They had come to S AT BUCKHURST’S THROAT, rob him of his plunder! er than curiosity, that led him to creep to- ward them, nearer, nearer, wriggle behind a barrel, and crawl so close that, with out- stretched arm, he could haye stabbed Mor- Uler—if Mortier had been alone. Buckhurst, pale-faced, calm, bent his ool- crless eyes cn Martier, and spoke in the passfonless voice that always struck a chil! to the Mouse's marrow: “M. Mortier, you misunderstand: me. I am not in this ci for my health, nor am I here to preach the commune. ‘There {a but one thirg I am looking for—money— and I don’t care how I get it or where I get it. Prussian thalers or French franes, {t’s all one to me.” i Mortler raised his hideous head and fixed his Mttle green eyes on the bloodless face before him. ne minute,” It was that, rath- s id Buckhurst, “then T’ye finish, Not to waste words, the situation is this: Captain Stauffer has arranged to open the Nanterre fort to the Prussians; I have agreed to run a tunnel from th cel- lar under the street to the bas’ jon where the Prophet is—I think it’s bastion No. 73. Powder exploded in the tunnel breach in the ramparts directly interre fort. opens a behind the Do you comprehend?” He paused a moment, then added: “For this we divide 500,000 thalers. Stauffer began to speak eagerly, his weak face lighting up as he proceeded. “It was Speyer's plan; he had it in view before war was declared last July. He and I lodged in this house and planned {t all out—even to excavating the tunnel to bas- tion No. 73—d—n the man who knocked him on the head! But we can do it alone—all We want of you is to help with the tunnel. Tt will be worth your while—really it will!” Mortier’s eyes seemed to grow incandes- cent; the great veins swelled out on his bald dome-shaped head, his throat, under the red flannel rags, moved convulsively. As he spoke he rose, Buckhurst, with the easy grace of a panther, rose too. Stauffer lumbered to his feet and began to speak again, but Mortier stlenced him and turned on Buckhurst like a wild beast. “TI refuse!” he shouted. “I am an An- archist, not a traitor! I kill, I destroy, I burn, I murder if necessary; but I will not betray—no, not for all the thalers in the kingdom of Prussia!” His eyes glittered with the light of in- sanity." His misshapen hands menaced Buckhur: : “Judas!” he shrieked. “The commune shall rise and live to judge you! Cursea son of a free people! Renegade! Thie: There was a flash, a report, and Mortier clapped his hands to his face, which the blood suddenly covered. The next moment he was at Buckhurst’s throat, bore. him down, twined him closer in his long, mis- shaper arms and fastened his teeth in his throat, and Buckhurst shot him again and again through the body. They swayed and fell together, the deadly Nght died in Buck- hurst’s glazing eyes. After a minute neither moyed again. Stauffer had gone, fleeing like one dis- tracted, when the Mouse crawled out into ine lantern light. and gazed down at the ead. Presently he picked up the lantern, grub- bed a hole in the ground, deposited his forks with the rest of his booty, rose, glanced at the dead again, and picked up the lantern. He spat.on the ground—for Buckhurst had tricked himi once—so he in- sulted the corpse with a contemptuous ges- ture, and went out, sWinging his lantern and sneering. 3 “Glve up the Nanterre fort, ch?” he re- peated, mimicking Stauffer’s effeminite yoice: “O, ma soeur!’O, la, la! A nous deux monsieur pipelet—a' demain!” The Prophet was'firing as he left the city by the Porte Rouge; lie looked up at the great cannon and mocked it: “'Tiens! boum! boum! 0, la la! O, Seigneur Dieu!—que la guerre est ridicule*tout’d’meme <= CHAPTER <XXviir. The Night of Atonement. That night, the zone of bombardment having been shifted far to the southwest, Bourke went to tht American embassy. It was 11 o'clock when he returned, thorough- ly discouraged. He had seen the minister, but that official could do nothing to protect Yolette and Hilde against the shell fire. There was no room at the embassy. It was not even certain that the embassy it- self would be safe, although the minister, in some heat, denounced those responsible for the bombardment, and promised to pro- test against the destruction of foreign con- sulates and embassies. So Bourke came back to the Rue Serpente, worried and anxious, for it was not possible for him to g0 to the Nanterre fort and leave Yolette and Hilde alone, without the protection of responsible people. He and Yolétte sat up late into the night discussing the situation. Hilde lay on the bed, listening, perhaps, but she offered no suggestions. About mid- night Red Riding Hood awoke, sobbing from hunger, and Yolette comforted ‘the child, saying good night to Bourke, and kissing her sister tenderly. “Listen, ) whe said, “Cecil ia going t6 the Nanterre fort, so you must not be so sad, my darling. Look up at me, little sis- ter. I am not selfish and heartless, after all, Cecil must go.” “I will go as soon as you and Hilde are in safe quarters,” began Bourke, but Hilde sat up on the bed and forbade him to go. “It is enough that one life is in danger, she said. “Your place is here, with Yo- lette. You can do nothing for him. He is in the casemates and under medical at tendance. What could you do?” “I shall go when I see you and Yolette secure,” re- peated Bourke. “Secure? How?" asked Hilde, bitterly. ‘Your embassy has no room for us; and do you think M. Bismarck will order his cannoneers to respect any part of. the city? The people in the street say that convents and hospitals have been struck repeatedly. Have the Prussians not sent their shells into the crowded streets of the poor?” It was the first time that Yolette had ever heard Hilde speak with bitterness. Bourke, too, looked at her sharply, wonder- ing at the change in the gentle, reserved girl he had known. ; “No,” continued Hilde rapidly, “no! no! no!—the Prussians spare neither young nor old, man nor woman! You cannot go, Ce- cil; Yolette needs you now if ever.” She rose, putting her arms around Yo- lette, saying, “Dearest, he must not go to the Nanterre fort. It is wrong for him to leave you; it is wrong for him to expose his life.” “Confound it!’ said Bourke, helplessly, “I'd go to himeif it were at the south pole, but I can’t leave Yolette in danger; my skin is no longer my own to risk.” “Nor was his,” said Hilde, gravely; and ae went into her own room and closed the ‘oor. The night was bitter cold; the frost cov- ered the window punes with mosslike tracery, silvered by a pale radiance from without. And Hilde, opening the indow, looked off over the dark city and saw the midnight heavens blazing with stars. Her cheeks were burning now; the icy air seem- ed grateful. After a little she closed the window, fearing the coid might harm the others, But there was a short ladder in the hallway, leading to the scuttle, and she found it and climbed up and out onto the roof. Her hot cheeks and aching eyes grew no cooler in the freezing wind. She even threw back her shawl and bared her white throat. The heavens were resplendent; the tre- mendous sky vault, far reaching, fathom- less, was dusted with myriads ‘of stars, mong which, deep set, the splendid planets sparkled, and the gigantic constellations traced their signs in ares and angles and gem-set circles that spanned the diamond- shawvered heavens from horizon to horizon. Spire on spire the city towered, domed, battlemented, magnificent in the starlight— the beautiful, sinful city, whose lacelike spires and slender pinnacles rose from Squares and streets where men lay dying by the score from lack of bread. There was starlight on the bridges, on the quays, on the carved facades of palaces, on the strange towers of St. Sulpice. ‘The jeweled spire of the St. Chapelle, the silvery dome of the Invalides, the gro- tesque Gothic tower of St. Jacques loomed distinctly from the endless mass of house and palace, monument and church. In the east an enormous bulk detached {tself against the sky—the Pantheon! In the north the stupendous twin towers of Notre Dame dominated the shadow shapes of roof and chimney. And through the world of shade and shadowy silhouette wound the star-tinted, ghostly river—a phantom tide spanned by a score of fairy bridges, impal- pable, vague, ghostly as their own reflec- tons in the frozen, ice-bound ® stream. And now, far beyond the walls Hilde could see the forts. The tiny flashes ran from east to west, then south, then back again, a running chain of sparks, The cannon’s solid thunder rolled and surged majestically, wave after wave, harmonious, interminable. On the heights of Meudon, Clamart and Chatillon the flicker of the Prussian guns ran parallel to the flashes from the ferts of the south and west; their shells were falling on the Point du Jour. Hilde could see the b ight reflections of fires along the frozen river, the red smoke, the nearer blasts from the great guns on the ramparts. Overhead raced the shells, streaming by with kindling wakes of sparks dropping and fading one by one. Then, from Mont Valer en the rockets towered to the zenith, and drifted and faded while the Point ‘du Jour answered, recket on rocket, and the bastions re- echoed with the double thunder of the shotted guns. Could that be real war? fete of colored fires This Venetian rockets, illuminations The jar of a great iron bell came quavering over the city. The faint rattle of drums broke out across the river—the tocsin and the alarm! Hilde did not hear them, She was talking to her- self, under her breath, counting the’ fort on her slender fingers, Issy, Vany Mont Valeriei St. Der O, then there must lie the Nanterre fort—there where the darkness is shot with streak after streak of tlame! At last she knew. The fort was silent now, but within her breast a voice spoke. And she listened, leaning from the iron railing. She knew that God’s justice was p: i fire through the beaver the fair city, brought 1 har the night of atonement was at hand. (To be continued.) Earliest Strike, From the St. Loals Republic. The earliest sirike occurred about 1450 B. C., or upward of thircy-three centuries ago. Pharaoh was building a new temple of Thebes. The masons received very little cash, but a quantity of provisions, which the contractor thought sufficient, was handed to them on the first day of each month. Sufficient or not, they mostly ate it before the time had elapsed. On one occasion many of them had nothing left quite early in the month, so they marched to the contractor's house, before which they squatted and refused to budge until justice was Jone. The contractor persuad- ed them to lay their distress before Pha- raoh, who was about to visit the works, and he gave them a handsome supply cf corn, and so all went on well for that month. But the same state of things re- curred by the middle of ex’, and for some days the men struck work. Various con- ferences took place, but the men declined to do a stroke unt{l they were given an- other supply of food.. They declared the clerks cheated them, used false weights, and so forth, familiar enough complaints in this country under the truck sysiem.. The contractor not complying with theif ée- mands they marched to the governor of the city to lay their srizvanees before him, and he tried to get them to return to work by smooth words, but -hat was no use, and they insisted on having food. At Jast, to get rid of them, he Grew up an order for corn on the public granary, and the strike was at an end. Crimes of Coolies, From the Ludgate Magezine. They are a queer crowd, these coolies, whether on land or sea. Cunning as foxes and cowardly as wolves, they resemble the parish dogs of their own cities in point of inability to hunt any prey save in packs. I heard of an instance where a gang of them, employed as nayvies in the cutting of a railway, bashed their overseer with shovels and fled into, the bush. Nobody was ever hanged for the crime, because some forty of them were in it—and that would have been rather a large consign- ment to condemn, even in the -far east, where human life is so cheap. There are a quarter of a million Chinese in Bangkok alone, and they do not appeal to one’s cordial emotions—very much the contrary, And should this catch the eye of any intending visitor to the far east, I would urge upon him the unwisdora of yenturing ot spend a night on a Chinese junk without so much as a revolver to Gefend himself with. Occasionally a Eu- ropean !s discovered by the marine ‘police flouting en the water with his throat cut. It such a case {t is high'y probable that he has been foolhardy, as I was. But differ- ent people are born to different ends, and the Chinese contempt of the European is frequently justified by facts. —————— e+ __ “Why is it," queried a worri2d-looking matron, “that the colored ladies who con- descend to tear, fade and scorch our wash- ing can so completely erase indelible ink markings, yet stand helpless befors a spot of common ink? I ask in a spirit of scien- {fic research.”—New Orleans Times-Demo- erat. Browne: “How surprised we would be if we could sée ourselves as others see us.’* ‘Towne: 28; but think how surprised the others would be if they could see us as we see ourselves.”—Brooklyn Life. “Bliffkin’s boy has been made a major.” “I didn’t know that he ever saw any ser- vice.” he saw the President.”— the city— in shame. For “He didn’t; Cleveland Plain Dealer, LARGEST UF LENSES The Big Reflector Built for the American University. SIXTY-TWO INCHES IN DIAMETER All the Grinding Was Done by a Methodist Minister. A REAL LABOR OF LOVE Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. PITTSBURG, Pa., July 20, 1998. In the little town of Greenville, Pa., lives the man who can now claim the honor of having made the largest silver-on-glass teiescope lens in the world. The man's rame is Jonn Peate. He is a retired Meth- odist preacher and this is his first attempt at telescope building. It has been entirely a labor of love with him, for the great lens was bulit {cr the use of the new Methodist University in Washington, and is soon to be mounted there. The new telescope is interesting, not only because its lens is the largest in the coun- try, but because of the eccentric character of its builder and the fact that he de- vised most of the machinery for his delicate work as he went along. He retired from the pulpit several years ago and js now seventy-eight years of age. His erect, stalwart figure and snow-white beard are familiar all through western Pennsylvania. In spite of nearly four-score years, Dr. Peate is still as active as a boy, and he re- cently walked twenty-seven miles in a sin- gle afternoon without minding it at all. in the winter he may be seen almost any fine Gay on the Shenango river, swinging along on skates with a swift muscular stroke that is the envy of the town boys. He is known all over this part of the state and his shrewd, common-sense sayings are quoted all through the Shenango valley. John Peate was born in County Cavan, Ireland, and his conversation is still fla- vored by a fine quality of Irish brogue and marked by Irish wit as keen as when a lad in his teens he landed in America and sought employment at the trade of brick- laying. While a young man he was converted at a Methodist revival, left his trade, took to preaching and became one of the clergy- men, and later on a presiding elder, in the Erie conference. About fifteen or twenty Years ago he became interested in the making of lenses, through Dr. Wythe, a fellow-pastor, and since then has devoted all his spare moments to that work. From first to la excepting such Iittle information as he got from Dr. Wythe and some slight technical instruction from John A. Brashear, the Pittsburg lens mak- er, Dr. Peate has relied upon his own skill and inventive ability in the performance of his delicate work. Dr. Peate's Offer, Nearly four years ago, at the annual meeting of the Erie M. E. conference, to which Rev. Dr. Peate bears a supernum- erary relation, Bishop Hurst presented a plea for the support of the American Uni- versity, and told in such glowing phrase- ology of the hopes and prospects for the school that the clergymen were deeply im- ressed. At the conclusion of the bishop's ppeal Dr. Peate rose and quietly offered » make for the univ y the largest re- Hecting tel lens in the world. The bishop and the clergymen present knew that Dr. Peate had been successful everal small lenses and optical ses, but the suddenness nitude of his offer for a moment sed them all. The offer was so able that it took the hearers by The bishop looked into the face erect and venerable man. He knew “In what time will you do it?” he in the making of other gli sked. In two years,” Dr. Peate. His offer was accepted soon afte: and the conditions fixed by the uni authorities were that Dr. Peate shou the work, the school to bear all expens: No limitations were set to the latter. Dn Peate lost no time upon his return home. His first concern, of course, was to get the glass in the roug That $ an enormous task, and the difficulties ¢ ‘ountered were ughly dishe pirit. He could hay the promptly responded Rev. have been cas expert workmen have been r only men in the world com: take any great piece of pense would have been en ormous, @ though given car blanche by the univer- sity authorities, Dr. Peate has endeavored to keep down to a minimum the cost of mak- ing his big lens. Getting the Big Glass. Another consideration entered into his Plans. Since the work was being done for the American University, it was a matter of pride that no part of it should be done outside of this country. Acting upon this determination, Dr. Peate made propes to several of the largest glass manutacturers in the United States, that they undertake the casting of his big giass. Here he met his first rebuff, Not one of the concerns to whom he offered the task would undertake it. Their overt reascns for refusing were tM&t it could not possibly be done, but covertly they let it be known through their trade journals that they regarded the whole undertaking of the venerable clergyman as the vision- ary scheme of a crank. Dr. Peate then turned from the big con- cerns to the smaller manufacturers, who had much to gain if the cast should be successful, and nothing to lose in case of failure. He went to Butler, Pa., sixty miles from Greenville, and got a plate glass company to agree to make the attempt. Four times the molten glass was poured into the great mold unsuccessfully, but the fifth cast was pronounced perfect. How the Workshop Was Built. In the meantime, Dr. Peate had built, ac- cording to his specifications, a workshop for the accommodation of fhe glass when it should be transported from Butler. The carpenters who built it were good Method- ists, and would take nothing for their la- bor. The bricks of the chimney were laid by Dr. Peate himself. The only cost the workshop entailed upon the university was for the ot and material, and it is worthy of note that this small, unpretentious structure was the first building erected by the institution. The shop was completed by the time the glass was successfully cast, and as soon as the casting was finished it was brought up from Butler and placed in the main work room on a big revolving table, that was turned by a small four-horse power gas engine, which also furnished the power to the crane that hoisted and lowered the massive metal grinders. These grinders were an ingenious invention of the old clergyman's fertile brain. Up to the time he began the making of telescope lenses there had been in use for grinding and polishing them what was known as “local” polishers—that is, small grinding or polish- ing surfaces manipulated over the face of the glass. These had many disadvan’ among which were the loss of time and the constant danger of reducing the surface of the glass into irregularities. Home-Made Tools. Tho grinder Dr. Peate constructed ts a metal disc the size of the glass to be ground and in which the convexity cor- responds inversely to the figure destred on the glass. The surface of this dise is cut up into hundreds of small facets, no two cf which are sxactly the same distance rae its Sita Pea ees eee 1 ene Niet ty tae and polish. With this single tool, weighing 900 18% began the formfdable task of reducing the rough surfsce of his great glass, At first simply hard work and no great skill was required, but as the glass wore down close to the figure In which it was to be finished, the work became less severe phy- ability and manipuiar skill of the maker. After the rough grinding had reduced the giass to that point where great skill and technical knowledge began to be required, Dr, Peate dispensed with the services of etent to under- ting. “The ex- the man he hai had to help him, and the remainder of the work was dons entirely with his own hands. The glass gradually became so infinitely delicate that the slightest change in the temperature affected it. During the first wintsr after polishing was begun only nineteen hours were devoted to actual work upon the glass, and the eeding Winter even less time than that. The total num- ber of hours* work on the glass from tha start to the finish was something un 700. And yet to complete it required n the full two years which Da. Peate pl ed the bishop at the conference. The which is sixty-two inches in diameter, five and three-eighths inches thick and weighs 1,500 pounds, is a perfectly flawless piece of glass and when fully polish: ke more like a pool of limpid spring wate than a great telescope lens, destined ta search the heavens for new planetary bodies, No better dea of the nicety the glass had to- be ha: than by a description of some that were applied to it in th: final polishing. By means of an with whi can be nad of the tests urse of its ingenious mechanical device, the table on which the lens lay was turned up so that the glass rested Perpendicularly on one edi acing inte the testing room, a ‘iled, narrow gallery about 100 feet long, that projects from the rear of the primitive worksbnp. Preparatory to making any of the testa Dr. Peate opened the big door at the far end of the gallery. A flood of light poured in and suffused itself over the polished surface of the great mirror which reflected back with Startling clearness and brilliancy very blade of grass and passing cloud without. Testing the Big Lens, All the tests to which the lensmaker subs Jected the glass were very simple ones, but emlodied the most exacting optical princi- ples, whereby the perfection of a speculum may be determined with infinitesimal ac- For the first one, Dr. Peate went lens, and placing his thumb upon t, requested the correspondent to note when he had held it there fifteen seconds. The time up, he came back about 65 feet to a small table on which was a common oil lamp, a cylindrical tin tube and a small ndard supporting vertically a br rule. He lighted the lamp, place tubs fr tin th over, turning it so that only the light m a hole in the side, smaller than a pin point, shone on the glass. He then sat dovn back of table i shifted the lamp 1 their adjust- ment r He arose and motioned me to take the 5: cting me to close one eye and look 5 the edge of the ferrule with the other. After a mo- ment of s hin, al point my and the whole ared effulgent © surface of the suddenly caught a surface of the big lens ap with a mellow lght, like t full moon. Near one edge was a small dark spot. “Do you that spot?” queried the doctor. “That fs a bump caused by the ex- pansion of the glass under the heat of my thumb. It is less than or of an inch high, and y. little point of light th hole too small to accommodate a pin. It is Impossible to measure ft or detect it in ny other way than by this simple light test. You are seated at the redius of curva- ture and the straightedge Is merely an as- sistance to your eye in finding and keeping the point at which the light reflected from the glass collects. It is by this test that I know whether my glass is too high or too low in places,” 5 He then pointed out a spot just a shade darker then the rest of the surface, where in polishing that afternoon he had left the Blass raised about one one hundred-thou- sandth of an inch. The next test was one of and illustrated the wonde of the glass. Dr. Peate y and merely held his hand n alerg the ferrule, the sur: Was seen to be all disturbed with great billowy clouds of li ing his breath across it cause¢ rot fifty-thousandth t you see it with the t escapes through @ triking be 1 sensitiven alked forward ar it. Looking f the glass d ¢ nt. it to fairl 1 waves. xplained. y warm uty 8 Blows » does a r the air hout and wi op. Consequenty I must keep my glass at a uniform tem- perature with the sphere, or its sur- face becomes so that I cannot give it an accurate test. Th: reason why it takes so long a time as iwo years to complete it and explains why I could not work on it more than a few hours last winter.” Searching the sky. After every known optical test has been 2iso one siven a telescope lens while it 1s being made there is one final and best one thas can only be made when it 1s completed, to search the sky with ft. Dr. e put his glass to thut final has twice proved ft of per- the great le 8 was resting onceived the vens. Acc hen he wh platt jivered its fac out onto a small worksh T from the pla affolding. ree fro: h its m i ‘Thirty-tw the face of rays of reflec cused, He had next cons Wooden arm made like a open ends of ucted the rror are s he placed on either side of the glass and the other closed end was raised to th of th olding. On it he placed the eyepiece, through whicl the focused light Is admitted to the ey Then tilting the glass back as far as h could one starry night a few weeks age the vener astronomer climbed up his d and during four hours sat uncom y on the topmost round of the ladder studying the heavens and searching- ly noting the working of his precious mir- ror. t was the greatest optical pleasure I have had since I began the study of astron- omy and the making of lenses,” he said. “There I sat perched on the top round of my ladder for four long hours. I did not feel the cold, nor the hard ladder under me. I forgot everything save the magnificent spectacle of the heavens which my big glass revealed to my eyes. It was impos- sible for me to turn the glass on any fa- miliar star or on the young moon. I could only get it on a vacant spot in the heavens near the constellation of Corbus, below the dragon's tail of Hydra. But in that space empty to the huraa eye and even to @ fairly powerful glass, I saw numerous beautiful stars. It was a splendid pano- rama, for not being able to move my glasa, I had perforce to be content with watching the heavens slowly pass acr: the surface of the mirrer, star after star. As an Equatorial, The Peate Lens, for such it will undoubt- edly be cajjed, will be mounted as an equa- torial in a tube something over thirty-two feet in length. The cost of so mounting it will run up into the thousands of dollars. Telescopes to be mounted as this one are called New- tonian telescopes, because of the principle of interior arrangement. The mirror is perpendicular to the axis and the reflected rays falling on a small inclined-plane mirror at the focussing point are turned out to one side of the tube into the eye pie¢e. The essential difference be- tween the Peate and the Yerkes lenses is not only one of size, the former having a diame- ter greater by twenty-two inches than the jJatter, but also of principle, the Peate glass being a rificctor and the Yerkes a refractor, In other words, the heavens are seen in the Peate lens, and through the Yerkes. Reflectors are superior to refractors in ease of construction and cheapness, in pos- sible size and in perfect achromatism, but they are inferior in the amount of light that is available, in definition and in per- manence or durability. Reflectors are su- perior, however, in one most important branch of modern astronomy, Spectroscopic investigations of the sun, stars’ and nebulae, including photography, in which respects a refiector, because its absolute freedom from color is far su- perlor to a refractor. Dr. Peate’s mammoth speculum is ex- ceeded in size only by the metallic one in Lord Rosse’s famous telescope at Birr Castle, Parsonstown, Ireland, which is feet in diameter. It is not in use and Dr. Peate’s may be considered as the largest in the world, in so fr as service is cerned. a Helping Them Out. From the Chicago Record. “The ‘Thompsons can't decide what to “Well, if the twins resemble their or children aay Should call one Vesuvius and the other a } The Best He Could Do, From Puck. Johnny—"What is a contralto, payer’ Papa—"t'm—I can’t Gefine samy Smt set Saas a consi