Evening Star Newspaper, August 27, 1898, Page 20

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 1898-24 PAGES. T (Copyright, 1868, by William Murray Graydon.) the grea culty that i permission to use the the following ste The | adventure dealt with—it is undoubte< true in « particular— med to Mat- thew Quin a few years a But when he } returned to England and related his amaz- Ing experiences even those of his friends who knew him best, with a couple of ex- ceptic intimated too plainly that they tegarded the narrative as a sort of Baron Munchausen yarn. He felt deeply this in- sinuation against his veracity, andé from that time he could never be induced to ak of the matter. In his note book, nowever, he set down a lengthy and éc- tailed account of what he rightly regarded as the most unique and thrilling a@venture Let these who read form their while 9 mperiled b: that re of glacier Quin arrived an port of Sitka, after a rough water up the c t from San His object was to collect for ompany a cargo of wild an ome of the bear her and the wolver- the elk, as well | Finding no suitable of | Quin took passage almost imme- he Bluebird, a mer « for a far northern p. » ¥u Ten ¢€ that hat | near sla for- ed about to est-clad topple tho’ s At the uple of shi with rm of the one store blan- und a couple of white trad- over @ bale of skins and of native workmans Indian women and cl *ked out in bright ribbon fous wares | berri oes, F ture, ord lacking. n angry cri ingled with | hat fell from no native tongue, of rest ho’ Ss assistance might be ne Quin dashed at once to white man Quin reached the fellow. apon from his hand, w between the n to the grov T more sober, her In- | up | picked thdrew dre: an good d me, ht, tho e that bri name bs © log hut crupu- { were limited and had whose | was said. pe the "ll tell you first one to as the only way in just two hours in that sh to discover a bit of a i over a bed of golden d to light out in a ad I was to get safe go back. I drifted | . and finally returned where I fell ill. An | now I’m as ut why Quin tere ver. lid you leave so Lastily?” asked | who was beginning to be deeply in- I was chz i that mig! me,” he replied, “but ed out of that vailey een the devil ant, only ed as loud as an hquake, and bullets didn’t stop And run! It was all I could do to ale f my boat and push off. I was wor: red man you ever saw, and ad the shiv for hour after I got out of the the lower canon.” ction seemed to unnerve him; ing hands he poured a draught ck bottle and put {t to his lips. can’t be true; he was either drunk or a nightmare,” Quin sald to himself. you describe the monster?” he added, aloud. “I can see it now,” Crane replied. “y dream of it at nights. It was as big as a house, shaped like an eiephant, and had r tusks instead Df two. Man, they locked as long and sharp as swords! And the creature was covered with a kind of shcrt, reddish hair.” Athrilling idea, so incredible as to verge WILBD- BEAST iAGE! | of Alaska? jt } said Quin. LEAves FRM his he Wonderful Adven- ture of the Yukon Tributary. in recent years that some of the species might be found alive in the unknown heart the body of one, im- rved in ice, had actually n foun’ he valley of the Yukon! ‘Take a drink,” said Crane. ‘Man, your eyes are popping out of your head!” “Did you ever hear of a mastodon?” Quin asked, hoar: “Never,” wa bedded an the rep “but I’ve seen forests. Then, coming to a region of con- necting waterways, they constructed a rude canoe with tools they had brought along, and thereafter traveled in a state of com- fort that was intensely enjoyable after their hardships. Now they were nearing their destination. With the exception of Abel Crane, who had passed the same way a year earlier, no white,men had ever seen or trodden this remote part of Alaska, The shooting motion of the boat and the warm sunshine at length made Quin drow- sy, and he fell asleep with his head pillow- ed on a roll of blankets. An hour later, waking with a start, he was alarmed and bewildered to find himself in absolute dark- ness; he heard the swift rush of water, and felt a cool, damp air. “Where am I?" he cried. “Don't be scared, man,”" Crane's voice an- swered. “It's all right. We're floating un- derground for a bit, but it won't be long till we get into sunlight again.” “So this is your secret entranc> to the valley?” “Yes, and the only entrance. you how I stumbled on it by chance. Awed by their mystic surroundings, the vcyagers were silent for a time. Th2 canoe, guided by an occasional stroke of Crane’s paddle, swung on and on with the tide of the subterranean river. Sudéenly a gray glimmer of light was seen in th> distance. It rapidly grew larger and larger, expand- ing to a spacious archway. Then it seemed to hurl itself forward, and the tossing craft was shot out into the dazzling glare of day. “Look!” shouted Crane. “The valley of gold!” Brown Otter prunted with approval, and a subtle thrill held Quin speechless. Greed- ily his eyes devoured the scene. Behind he American's story of biunt truth to be worth investigation. don! The thought d his voice trembled as h me to that place?” of it,” Crane replied. king for a partner, and to you, Mr. Quin. I a shame to let that And I've got a scheme , in spite of that horny We ought to re- t to go b gold lie there for liftin s bent on more than gold. todon, it must be se- & Company. The task but what of that? No e, of money, of labor in pursuit of such a prize = wisest, for the present, to pose from the American. creature is no longer in the suggested. re—it can't get out,” “It beats me how it big timber along the Quin asked, with assumed care- Heaps of it on one side; a regular forest.’ nd could a large boat—a barge the size of a small ship—be floated out to the Yukon frem the lower end of the valley?” “An ocean steamer, if you like,” said Crane, with a cunning laugh. “I see your * game, Mr. Quin. But it’s no use, take my word for it. That animal ain't to be any more than you could lasso a train going at full speed. And it’s t-proof, too here m a way to take it alive,” iood heavens! think what the verld weuld say if’— Hold errupted Crane. “Come down Here is my offer, and it v rer. I'll take you to the piace, and if things work right we'll leave it a fortnight later with a boatload of gold- en nuggets. After that the valley, and | what's in it, is your property. If you choose to make a fool of yourself over that four- tusked elephant, why, that's no lookout of mine. I'll be in the states enjoying my pile. Is it a bargain? s!" Quin exclaimed, eagerly; and he the compact by gripping his com- "s hand. sat up until long past midnight. d most of the talking, graphically ‘ibing his previous adventure, and ex- plaining how he hoped to be more success- | ful on his second visit to the valley of gold. They could not start at once, he said, ow- ing to the snow in the mountain passes; but in a fortnight the spring would be well advanced, and meanwhile they would make their preparations, he interval passed quickly. What sup- plies they needed were obtained from the trader at the settlement, and when all was ready, except the weather, Quin enjoyed some shooting and fishing. A third man was chosen by Crane for the expedition—a trusty, English-speaking Indian, whose na- tive name, translated, was Brown Otter. Early in the third week the Bluebird put in at Raneau for a few hours, and Quin sent a letter by it to Karl Hamrach, in which he intimated that he had something big on hand, and might not be heard of for months. Two days later the little party of three started inland, bound for the American's distant El Dorado. . . . . . * . It was the middle of the brief but lovely summer which nature grants to semi-Arctic Alaska. In the heart of that wonderful land, early one afternoon, a boat was glid- ing down a narrow and swift-flowing stream. Crane and Brown Otter were pad- dling. Quin, crouched in the bow, was lost in admiration of the exquisite and ever- changing scenery. A serene blue sky float- ed above the stately mountains, with bat- tlemented brows, that inclosed the river right and left. The tinkling of waterfalls, the gentle sighing of warm winds, the mur- mur of the current, the humming of bees and the singing of birds—ali made a sweet and drowsy music. The wooded shores were green with wild roses and clover, honeysuckle and chaparral. Yet it was not long since cliffs and groves had been cov- on madness, flashed into Quin’s mind. Tre- mendously excited, he sprang to his feet, agitated as he had never been in the course of his life. What monster of past ages had reddish hair and four tusks? Only the mastodon, that gigantic creature of the Pliocene period, whose remains had been dug up in Europe and America! But was it extinct? Had not scientists averred with- ered with spotless white; since avalanghes thundered from on high, and storm winds swept the canyon. And soon the winter would reign again. For weeks and weeks after leaving Raneau the daring adventurers had toiled on foot through some of the most difficult country in the world, doggedly putting be- hind them miles of mountains, gorges and him towered the mighty peak from th> bowels of which the subterranean river had ejected the canoe. In front the stream wid- ened a little, and flow2d straight on for three-quarters ofa mile, then vanished in a narrow gorge that split the granite circle of cliffs which hemmed in the valley. On the right ther was oniy a narrow strip of land, heavily timbered, between the water and the precipitous wall. But on the left the ridge of mountains receded n2arly half a mile, and the greater part of the semi- circle thus formed was covered with a mag- nificent primevai forest. Betwzen the trees end the pebbly edge of the stream was a belt of dense grass and undergrowth. While Quin was rapturously noting these details the cano2 grated and stopped. His companions had driven it ashore on the right-hand side, at a point about twenty yards below the exit from the cavern. Here we'll camp,” said Crane. “It’s close to sunset now, but the first thing in the morning we'll cross. Over yonder are the gold streams, and in that forest lives your mastodon. It can't get to this side— the river is too deep and swift. You see, it's in a sort of a prison.” “I think T know how it got here in the first place,” replied Quin—“if it exists at all,” h> added to himself. “Is the under- ground part of the river very deep?” he went on. One of Them Whipped Out a Knite. HES ; My paddle touched bottom now and en. “As I thought. The creature must have waded through from the upper valley, per- haps a hundrad or more years ago, at a time when the stream wes very low. “That's likely,” assented Crane. “And the ugly brute has been guarding the gold ever since.” He turned to the Indian. “Lend a hand here, Brown Otter.” For a long time, while his companions prepared supper and rigged up a small lean- to, ig eagerly watched the opposite shore. H2 did not know what to believe. It seem- ed impossible that a living mastodon, the giant of prehistoric ages, could be lurking in yonder forest. The silence, the peaceful solitude of the valley, strengthened his doubt. Twilight turned to darkness. After sup- per the Ind‘an went to sleep, but Quin and Crane remained -up for a couple of hours, talking of their plans for the morrow, It had been arranged that while they were gathering the gold Brown Otter should draw the mastodon to the upper end of the farther shore, and hold it there as long as he could, himself perched out of reach on a ledge that extended over the arch from which the river issued; from there it would be easy for the Indian to swim to the camp. Of course, the scheme had been worked out in detail. To Quin the night seemed interminable. For hours he lay awake beside his slumber- ing companions, listening intently, and once he crept from the leanto and gazed across the dark aller It was nearly morning when he. finally fell asleep, and he woke to find the sun oa Sd and Brown Otter and Crane standing by the fire; the Indian’s arms were folded, and count- enance was sullen;ang gloomy. Quin saw at once that something|was wrong. “The game's up ar as the redskin is concerned,” Crane explained. “He's gut a scarey fit, and vows he won't do his part.” “Persuade him out. ed. “Might as well tain,” was the ig of it,” Quin suggest- te persuade & moun- “No; it won't work. it struck me sudden. ullets into the mas- But I’ve got an {dea—1 ou know hree odon?"” “Yes, you told me.” “Well, I beileve the creature died after- ward of its wounds, and that’s why we've seen or heard nothing of it. It it was alive it would have made some sign. What do you think?” “I half believe you are right,” Quin an- swered, with a sinking heart. "3 “Then you'll risk going over with me?’ “I'm game, if you are!” That the mastodon was dead did indeed seem plausible. Brown Otter shared this belief with his companions; he brightened up, and consented to accompany them. After a hurried breakfast they embarked, taking firearms with them, and to their surprise they found the current so swift that it was all they could do to reach the opposite shore within fifty yards of the lower end of the gorge. They climbed out on a low, flat shelf of rock that partly over- hung the water, and made the craft secure with a rope. “We must tow the canoe up to the far end,” said Crane, ‘before we dare start back. Come on, now; this way for the old. re was a thrilling moment. With rifles ready for an emergency, with anxious and doubting hearts, the three started across the belt of grass and bushes. They were nearly to the verge of the forest when they pulled up short. Before them, in the soft ground, were footprints like those of an elephant, only twice as big. And certainly they were no more than twenty-four hours old. “By Jove, a mastodon!” gasped Quin. “It's not dead. We had better go back! “The brute can’t be in the vicinity,” re- plied Crane. ‘The gold is not far off, and it won't take long to fill our pockets. What do you say?” Quin yielded reluctantly. Brown Otter was on the point of taking to his heels, but he changed his mind when the Ameri- can threatened to shoot him. They pushed on for an eighth of a mile, skirting the edge of the meadow. Then Crane led the way into the thick forest for fifty yards or so, and stopped by a shallow little stream that flowed toward the river. He dropped his rifle, thrust his arms into the sandy bed and withdrew a double handful of soil that contained unmistakable nuggets of gold. “Look!” he whispered, hoarsely. The sight of the precious metal roused the cupidity of both Quin and Brown Otter. Forgetful of all else for the moment, they eagerly joined Crane in the search. Kneel- ing by the stream they clawed up lumps of clayey sand, from which, with trembling fingers, they separated the shining bits of gold and put them into their pockets. They were thus engaged, toiling with feverish haste, when without the least warning an awful and thunderous roar echoed through the forest; it was followed by a crashing noise that seemed to shake the ground. The author of the disturbance instantly appeared, less than twenty yards distant. Bursting out of the thick forest, where It had either been lurking craftily or enjoy- ing a sleep, came # gigantic creature that looked fully as large as a house. A real, live mastodon it undoubtedly was! It was twice the size of the biggest elephant Quin had eyer seen; its body was covered with reddish hair, and it displayed four frightful tusks of gleaming! ivory. From a cavern- ous mouth, filled with nipple-like teeth, is- sued another screeching bellow of rage. For one fateful second the three gold- seekers, terrified almost out of their senses, stcod gazing at the advancing monster, speechless and helpless. Then, the spell broken, they turned and scrambled for life over the rough ground, running like men dazed. They did not attempt to use their rifles, knowing the’ utter futility of powder and ball in such a case. ‘To the open!’ Quin shouted, hoarsely. put “No; that means certain death!” cried Crane. “This way?’ He led straight back through the forest, parallel with the river; and his companions clung to his heels. An awful fear was upon them. They heard the mastodon com- ing behind with thunderous tread, roaring at every stride, and the sound seemed to curdle and freeze the biood in their veins. They pushed on with sinking hearts, with a sickening horror of the death that was imminent. Suddenly, close in front, rose a sort of natural wall of boulders, almost touching one another, A single passage between them, two or three feet wide, was visible. With a yell Crane dived into it, and Quin and Brown Otter emerged with him on the fartfer side. The mastodon, trumpeting with baffled fury, was heard demolishing stout trees as if they had been tiny sap- lings. “Are we safe tore on. ees “Not yet,” the American replied. a a I Ah away from the brute, but he was soon after me again. He runs like a Bac horse. To the boat; it’s our only chance! “But we can’t cross the stream! “We don’t want son I'm done with this al place forever!” guineees of the same mind. He realized now that the capture of the mastodon would be an impossibility. The fugitives turned to one side, and sped toward the river in a diagonal course. But when they reached the open meadow they saw their terrible pursuer break from the timber thirty yards to the rear; the cunning mon- ster had circled around the rocks. ‘There seemed no hope, for the canoe was a good hundred yards distant. “On for your lives! : AS fe epoke he threw his rifle away. Brown Otter did the same, but Quin kept hold of his weapon. It was a brief but desperate race. Stralning every nerve, the panting men bounded over grass and peb- bles. They dared not look behind them, though the ponderous treads, the blood- curdling bellows, told that the mastodgn was gaining. ‘Faster!” Quin cried. ‘An almost superhuman spurt, a few more strides, and they were on the ledge that overhung the river’s channel. Crahe was the first to gash across the intervening space and tumble into the boat. The next instant he was hurled flat to the bottom by the weight of Quin and Brown Otter. With a frantic jerk the Indian broke the detain- ing rope, and the craft was sucked away by the swift current just as the infuriated mastodon galloped clumsily to the spot. “Hurrah!” shouted Quin. The very instant an unexpected catastro- phe happened. The ledge, worn hollow be- neath by the action of ths Water for hun- Greds of years, split and gave way under the tremendous weight of the mastodon. With a deafening crash the animal and the mass of rock dropped into the depths, and as quickly a monstrous wave overtook the canoe, hurled it aloft;and sent its occu- ants flying. 2 eauin ae far under when he struck, but he retained his presence of mind, and by hard struggling gained the surface. He had already b3en carried into the mouth of the gorge, and was whirling along at dizzy speed. He saw the'canoe a little above him, and beyond that rtheimastodon’s gigantic head reared out of the water, but of his companions there’ was: no trace. ‘Ths next instantfhe Was plunged into botl- ing rapids that filled the canon from side to side. He came through them safely and miraculously, nattowly missing a jagged pinnacle of rock *that® towered from mid- stream. A few st¥oke# brought him to the boat, which he clutéhed firmly. Then, glancing back, h+ was’ just in time to see the mastodon strike the jutting stone with awful force. It bfoke ff with the compact, and rock and anifnal ‘vanished together in the depths of the rivers ‘The untimely end of the mastodon—cer- tainly the last of its race—affected Quin but slightly at the time, Two hundred yards farther down, where “the bark was not so steep, he drifted ashore. Again and again he called Crane and the Indian by name. But there was no sign of 2ither in the rag- ing waters above, or along the sheer walls of the canon. Both men had found a wa- tery grave. The rest of the story {s immaterial, in a way. Alone in the heart of Alaska, without food and firearms, robbed by death of his two companions, it would have been little wonder had Quin yielded to despair. But his indomitable will sustained him. He righted the canoe, improvised a paddle from a piece of driftwood, and took to th> stream again. Late in the afternoon he reached a pecan river that he knew must be the Yu- on. ‘ ~ Down that mighty tide he drifted for a fortnight, subsisting on fruits and berries. He camp2d on small islands at night, and traveled only by day, having many narrow escapes from rapids and whirlpoo! Then he fell in with a party of venturesome pros- * Quin gasped, as they yelled Crane. ‘Drop pectors, and accompanied them to the coast, where he found a yess? bound for San dike Francisco. He arrived at that port, crossed the states by rail, and was back in London in Novembef, The receat discovery of gold on the Klop- as no surprise to Quin, and he con- erned himself little about it. He had a rror of the fata] Alaskan valley where Abel Crane and Brown Otter lost their Uves, nor could he find the place if he de- ed, But in years to come men will tread hore the last of the mastodons roamed. and died, and the wealth it so long guarded will flow into the coffers of civilization. —_.+_—__. PROVING AN ALIBI. A Well-Acted Tale Clearea Prisoner. the From the London Evening News. The cleverest attorney that ever I heard of (said O’Connel) was one Checkley, fa- miliarly known by the name of “‘Checkley- be-d—d.”” Checkley was agent once at the Cork As- sizes for a fellow accused of burglary and ageravated assault, committed at Bantry. The noted Jerry Keller was counsel for the prisoner, against whom the charge was made out by the clearest circumstantial evidence—so clearly that it seemed quite impossible to doubt his guilt. When the case for the prosecution closed the judge asked if there were any witnesses for the defensi “Yes, my lor said Jerry Keller, “I have three briefed to me.” “Call them,” said the judge. Checkley immediately hustled ‘out of court, and returned at once leading in a very respectable farmer-like man, with a blue coat and gilt buttons, scratch wig, corduroy tights and gaiters. “This is a ane to character, my lord,” said Check- ey. Jerry Keller (the counsel) forthwith be- gan to examine the witness. “You know the prisoner in the dock?” said Keller. “Yes, ur honor, ever since he was a gosscon.”” “And what is his general character,” said Keller. “Oh, the d—1 a worse." “Why, what sort of a witness is this you've brought?” cried Keller, passionate- ly flinging down his brief and looking fu- riously at Checkley; ‘the has ruined us!’ “He may prove an alibi, however,” whis- pered Checkley; ‘examine him as to alibi.” Keller accordingly resumed his examina- tion. “Where was the prisoner on the 10th in- stant?” said he. “He was near Castlemartyr,” answered the witness. “Are you sure of that?” “Quite sure, counsellor. “How do you know with such certainty?” “Because upon that very night I was re- turning from the fair, and when I got near my own house I saw the prisoner a little way on before me—I'd swear to him any- where. He was dodging about, and I knew it could be for no good end. So I stepped into the field and turned off my horse to grass; and while I was watching the lad from behind the ditch I saw him pop across the wall into my garden and steal a lot of parsnips and carrots, and, what I thought a great deal worse of, he stole a brand-new English spade I had got from my landlord, Lord Shannon. So, faix, I cut away after him. I was not able to ketch him. But next day my spade was seen, surely, in his house; and that’s the same rogue in the dock. I wish I had a hoult of him.” “Tt is quite evident,” said the judge, “that we must acquit the prisoner; the witness has clearly established an alibi for him. Castlemartyr is nearly sixty miles from Bantry, and he certainly is anything but a partisan of his. Then,” addressing the wit- ness, “will you swear information against the prisoner for his robbery of your prop- erty?” “Troth, I will, my lord, with all the pleas- ure in life, if your lordship thinks I can get any satisfaction out of him; I'm told I can for the spade, but not for the carrots and parsnips.”” “Go to the crown office and swear infor- mation,” said the judge. The prisoner was, of course, discharged, the alibi having been clearly established. In an hour’s time some inquiry was made as to whether Checkley’s rural witness had sworn informations in the crown office. That gentleman was not to be heard of; the prisoner had also vanished immediately on being discharged, and, of course, resumed his malpractice forthwith. It needs hardly to be told that Lord Shan. non’s soi-disant tenant dealt a little in fic- tion, and that the story of his farm from that nobleman, and of the spade and the vegetables, was a pleasant device of Mr. Checkley’s. es Ireland Claims Sampson. From the Cork Examiner. My attention having been drawn to a few different accounts in English and Irish pa- pers with regard to the birthplace of the above named distinguished admiral, who is now playing such a conspicuous part in the Spanish-American war, some claiming him as Scotch, others as an Englishman, etc., it will, no doubt, interest your readers to learn that the gallant Irishman first saw the light almost under the shadow of the Moore Abbey (now in ruins), just outside the village of Galbally, county Limerick, and close to the confines of the Glen of Aherlow, which latter glen is celebrated from not alone a historic point of view, but also on account of its magnificent scenery, and the fact that the glen has given birth to more distinguished athletes than any part of Ireland. In fact, almost every second young man you meet in Aher- low is, as a matter of course, an athlete. Almiral Sampson’s father was a black- smith at the place above mentioned, and, at the present day, traces of the forge are to be seen where his brawny arm wielded the hammer. He emigrated to the land of the stars and stripes to better his fortune, while his son, the admiral, was a mere child. The first of the Sampsons who came to this country was a colonel in Cromwell's army, which colonel got married to a daughter of Sir John Cantwell, near the above mentioned abbey, and, after settling down in Ireland, became “more Irish than the Irish themselves.” The above Colonel Sampson was, therefore, an ancestor of the admiral, and’ of the admiral’s numerous cousins, who are now living in and around the neighborhood, among whom I might mention Mr. Simon Sampson of Carrick- aroche, and Michael Sampson of Mitchels- towndown, near Knocklong, both the latter persons being respectable and well-to-do farmers. I hope the above information may prove interesting and set the matter at rest {which information, I might mention, I have from the lips of a near relative of Ad- miral Sampson), and apologize for tres- passing so much on your valuable space. Befo’ de Wah Style. From the New York Press, In these days of crazy fads almost any price will be paid for the gratification of a sense. A novelty is presented by a middle- aged man of wealth who lives in a hand- some house near the lower end of Central Park. His father was a slaveholder, and old times are recalled by a daily return to ante-bellum conditions. Negro servants are employed with the understanding that when there are no visitors in the house they shall call the owner ‘Marster” or “Mars John.” It is just like slave days to be there. “Here, Sam, you black scoundrel, black my boots.” ‘Yas, Mars John.” ‘George, you rascal, saddle my horse. “Yas, marster.” “Henry, you'll get a thousand lashes if you don’t hurry up there.” “Yas, sah, Mars John, I is hu’in" fas’ 's I kin.” In the presence of guests the servants say “Mr. Barcus,” ‘‘Yes, sir,” and ‘‘No, sir,’ while he addresses them with dignity and respect. > @ sort o’ cove as keeps mafning in the W: urday, August 27, 1498. he ‘obtain any of these letters 8 call for “Advertised Letters,” be sent to the Dead ADVERTISED LETTERS, The following is 4 lst of advertised letters re- ington (D. C.) Post Office Sat- the applicant hot called for within two (2) weeks they will Letter Office. LADIES’ LIST. Alexander, Vena Mrs Jefferson, Lillian L Mrs Allen, Maudie Mrs Jefferson, Mary Miss Arala, R Mrs Jefferson, Susie Mre Arner, Mary Mrs Jobnson,’ Annie C Mies Armstrong, Lula Mrs Johnson, Alice Miss Arnold, W E Mrs Johnson, Jennie Mrs Ashton, Ipene B Miss © Johnson, Lucy Miss Ballad, Nellie Mrs Jobnson, Maggie Mrs Barbee, Fannie Miss © Johnson, Rebecca Miss Barbour, Hattle Miss Jobnson, Sarah Miss Bates, Alice Miss Jobnson, Sarha Miss Beall, Gertie Miss Jones, Alice G Miss Bell, ‘Annie Miss Jones, S E Mrs Belt, Martha Mrs Just, "Emma Mrs (2) . Mary Mrs Kelly, Isabeli Mrs Blanchard, Sophia Miss Kendall, Bettie S Mrs Boardley, Bessie F Miss Kersura, Aunlc Miss Bock, Pauline Miss Keys, Jennie Mrs Bond, Ritta Mi: King, M J Mrs a, Amy Miss Leddbn, Mary Miss Mary Miss Lee, Lela Miss Bradford,Harriet K Mrs Lee, Sarah Mrs Biandman, Mary Miss Braxton, Emma Mrs Braugh, Emma Mrs Clara Miss ellie Miss JE Mrs Jane Miss W H Miss Birdie Miss , Carrie Mrs ; Lenvenia Miss MeCanley MeGliney, Mattie Mra MacCormick, MinnieMtss Madison, Hannab Miss Maun. Mamie Miss Mantites, Berta Marshall,” Edtloutse Miss Martin, © H Mrs Martin, Ency J Miss Lizzie Miss Marion, V Miss Agnes Miss Mather, Charles L Mrs Dollie Ann Miss Mather, Ethel Miss Mecoy, © Merriman, 4 Middleton, Leonora Miss Margrette Miss Miller, Carrie F . Rosa Miss ) Julia Miss rn, Stella Miss Mitchell, L Mra vn, Willis A Mrs Mitchell) Maggie Miss Brownings, Elizy Miss Moaton, Lula Miss Bruegmann, Dora Mrs Moble, ‘© Mrs Bryant, Mary Miss Moore, Lelie Miss Buchanan, Daisey Miss Morrison, Sara H Mrs Buchanan, Sarnh Mrs Mosson, ‘Sarah Mrs Brace, Wm Mrs Motin, K N Mrs Burke, Catherine Mrs Moulton, Mabel Miss Burns, Mary Mrs Muleab; Burnside, Frank Mrs Munsey A M Miss Mary Burr, Annie Miss Nelson, Henrietta Mrs Burrill, Carrie Miss ixson, Mary Mrs Agnes Norman, Mattie Miss Lucinda: Oren, Jane Mrs Callahan, Nelle Miss Owens, Rachel Miss Cushenberry, Viola Miss Page, “Annie Miss Candy, Eniraa Mrs Parish, Edith Miss Carlton, G Mrs Perkins, Eva Miss Carpenter, Sarah Mrs Petris, ‘Alice Harrington Carter, JH Mrs hapman, Dora Miss ke, M Raemer Miss Coleman, Grace Miss Collins, Alice Miss Comfort, Susanah Mrs ongar, Robert M Conrad, Lila V Miss Corbett, Bertie N Miss Converse. Buerttz Mrs : Jannie Miss Mrs Miss ; Miss . Bessie Miss som, Lizie J Mrs Catherine Miss (2) Richards, Susie Miss Lizzie Mrs ‘annie isa y. Maggie Mrs lass, Elizabeth N Denbler, Kathryn Mre Eads, Gennie Janet Miss rirnde Miss Row Rowe, > Georgia Miss Lottie Mrs Jannie Mr nsan Mrs 5 a imid, Mamie Faber, CW Mrs mms, Loretta Miss Falk. ‘Mf Mrs mith, Sara M Fisher, May ie, Susan Mrs Fitzhugh, ¥ LT Mrs Fletcher, NX Mrs penser, Lucisy Mrs Fl inna Miss Helen Mrs Forls, Anna Miss Anna Miss Ford, Nessie Miss Margaret Miss a, Flin M Stephens, Rosemary Miss cl, Ella Miss Stewart, Netty Mrs Mellen Miss Stewart, Stella Miss Annie M Miss Stuenell, John E Mf Katie Mra Sulli x or al few “4 s M Miss Gasikibg, M G Mrs oe . Grunt, Anna Miss sel tt Gentrence, Sophia Miss George, Mary Miss Jeanett la Mrs . Helen ® Miss Lertie Mrs G Mrs Gormon, Florrie A Miss Gorden,’ Jennie Mrs jordon, Mary 1, Miss Julia Miss lor, Carrie K Mrs lor, Hannor Mrs ‘aylor, Mary Miss teher, Minnie L Miss Thomes, Edith Miss Thomas, Mary Mrs ‘Thompson, Eliza D Mrs Tillery, 3° Mri Tilton, Lydia Ho Mrs Toals, Mattie Mrs ‘Travers, Elizabeth Mrs Turner, Mara Miss Terr, Jennie C Mrs Turrer, John R Mrs ‘Turner, mnie Mrs ae S Mrs shie Valentine, Mary Mes Eas ze Mss Walker, Bulah Miss r, Minnfe Miss Wallace, Ella M E) Miss: Wallace, Gertie Miss Walls, ME Mrs Waltza, Lionel Mrs Miss Wilkes, Mary L Miss ° Ward, LR Miss Celeste Mi James Mrs Westcott, Carrie L Miss en Miss Whipp, L Mrs Annie Mrs White, Mary Mire ‘Annie Miss White. Mary Fllza Miss , Laura Aliss Williams. Carrie M Hill, Gertie Miss Willis, Hattie B Hines, Ano! Mrs Willis, M L Mrs Hollanay, Lacy Mrs Wilson, Belle Mies Holmes, Mary © 3 Wilson, Bortie Miss Honrd, Allee Mrs Wison,” Annie. Miss Hourihaus, Ela Mrs Wootten, Tattie Miss Howard, Daisy Misa (3) Wright, ‘Georgie Miss |, Maud Mir Seed Emmy. cang, Yourg, Nancy Jane Mrs Young, Willle Mi: GENTLEMEN'S LIST. Adamson, Ino K Jobnson, G W Aguirer, ‘austin A Johnoon, Henry A Allen, A 5 x Smabrose, JH Jones, Arthur A (2) Anderson, A E Jones, Jeff Anderson, A R Jones, M ‘Andersen, Chas P Kemper, § $ Anderson, J © Kennedy, WJ Andersen. Joabua Kera, Dantet ees Kerkam, Capt R E (3) Baker, Chas H King, W P Banon, Samuel L Knabe, Julius Beauben, Gus IL eye BA Benter, © . C Bentley, Wm ioe co Berte, C D ee a Ford Birlin, Po — oe Blackburn, Geo W Lewis, ‘Ino Blackwood, Mr and Mrs Lewis Wo Ripon earn McCammon, WE Bowens, Rendall MeCoy, Willie a McDonald, H A Bowler, Richard McGurk, Tom Bonnar ee Mclilheney, Jos Bora. Bandy McKean, FC va, ‘é McKenzie, Jno Branson, Abe McMullen’ P Brown, Jas (2) Mace tans ad eS Malone, Chas sown, Wee Marshall, 0 Burlingham, Wm Marshall’ Bf my Byrd, Chas Mason, Lieut Geo W. Campbell, Robt ee en, Mason, Stewart Carter, Maupin, Carey Chambers, Augustus — faupln. Ce = a Merrticen, Juo a Clemmer, © H rg RY Ae? ‘iller, Wm P fend B ils,’ Jno jr Cooley, O Milgtee Coonradt, W Moe OP Montgomery, Turne® Morgan, Jester Morgan, 1. Morganthal, D RL (2) Morrison, JW Moyees, BF Malick, BJ Murlain, Hon HB Murray, Geo Sow. Ee iy, Inc Day, Hon Jno eth Mtg Neale Ww. @ jempsey. ag Devaney, Thos ape Doggett, Clifton ‘O'Bannon, Jno W Dutton, Wma, Spano, ano Dysart, Dr O’Brien, M (2) Eckart & Co Onei wg Edwards, HR = Egleton, Judge WH , Pal = Pu SSS Palmer, Jno Fenqua, ‘Timothy Parham, Ishms Fields, "Phos Payne, Jno Fields, Wm C Payne, Wm Fisk, Rey Thos Pepper, J Wy Fletcher, Maleolm Perry, Geo Francis, Joseph Perry, Richard (2) Franklin, WA Pitcher, Wm L Fry. 8 G Polkinhorn, J E Gelbraith, Peter W Pollock, Edward B Garner, Jno Pony, ML, Gibbs, Jesse D (2) Price, Lt Howard Gibson, HA Pride, Merriman Guimer, Ludwell Bullman, ‘Geo it ivens, mphey, Gooden, Tobt Reriin, Da S Grobey, Hessnan Reach. Jes Green, ‘Thos rae Cee. Reeves, C A Guilerres. Geo F Pidninsca, ties all, Hanger, Frank MD ‘Ripley, Eaward P Harding, Herbert dy SEE eA Rowe, Rey Robt S Harrison, Jas G Rudolph aa Rozanski, J Hayden, Albert arg Hayden, Wris —- nee, a Tyaer, tut” Herssha, w a Herns, Nicholas ryners 2 pet Hill, Hon'D T = Serbacker, J 0 Holmes; Albert Sebulfe, ‘Chae it Horst, Foster Schureman, H A Hossack, Geo Seaton, Frank Howard, ET Secardi, JB Hunter, Richard Shaw, 9 . Jackson, E Wr, ies BS w as James, Jones Shelden, W IL Yaetoher, Dr Philip 3 Jefferson, Harry Sing, Lee Jerks, Richard Stinner, Sinuet @ Johns, Geo T Slcan, Jno J Johnson, M D . Smith, Chillte Smith, Geo yn. Ww Smith, Hiella H Yon Frittch, Bares Smith, JH Wain, CW Smith, Lioyd Watre, Dante Smith, Dr Ss Walker, Henry Smith, Warren Wallis,’ Creighton Sclomon, A Word, brea 0 Speeaman, Harry 3 Warren, BP Stewart, Wm Stockton, Jno W Stokes, Otisburn Strachan, Ed: < Strauther, Willie Strong, J M Ssmonds, GP ule, Roger Tall, Waiter Taylor, Rev C Wilcox, Walter H Taylor, Geo Wake Justi Tebbens, Jno on, JH Thomas, E D ms, SA Thomas, Jas Willtams, Walter & Thompeon, Matt Wiltams, Wm T Timmon, i M 2 Town. Fredck E n, TH Townley, J ines, Dr F Townsend, Joo fe, Allen Tractien, ‘WoW rkman, Ira © Truman, T J Woods, Frank Tumer,'a T Turner, C WS Turner, Robt Turner, Vanzzi Vaughn, Walter FOREIGN Last. Bellezze, Garardo Porro. Richard S Eames, R Scholiki Mitchell, R Sylven, Murphy, EC Vicun: STATION A LADIES’ LIST. Reed, Miss Bulah Vistar, Miss Alice z GENTLEMEN'S LIST. * arnes, Nathaniel Ww Jeo! am met ells, George STATION B. ‘ Carroll, Miss Bessie Barnes, E A 4 STATION D. 3 Deno, Mrs Sophia Gutridge, Bruce Harris, Mrs Ann ———— Equipment of the Sailing Ship Ta4 coma En Route to Manila. From the Chicago Times-Herald. The voyage of the Tacoma, which re= cently sailed from San Francisco for the Philippines, will be most remarkable, and the results of it will be watched with the keenest int2rest by army men and shippers of cattle and horses in ral. The ship carries a cargo of 108 horses and 12) mule. 7,000 miles across the broad P to Ma- nila. Tne Tacoma is a three-masted, sky- sail clipper ship, 222 feet io: am and 1,738 tons burden. 1 der Lieut. Camer- on’s commar:d will be twenty cavalrymen to look after the horses. of sixteen A crew seilors under Capt. Cha Officer Robert M> h This expedition is attracting much a tion because of several new devices th have been adopted for the comfort of tha horses and mul Th: m ck has been covered with @ false deck from the break of the poop to the topgallant forecas which forms a roof for the animals and a fcoting for the crew. This deck is sub- stantial, but when removed will leav2 the ship unmarred, Under it deck proper, will be how head of live ‘stock, the for which are novel and ingenious. The animals will stand with their heads toward th> center of the vessel and their hindquarters against rounded timbers, while their chests will fit into an indentation with side guards, mak- ing € smooth cage, which is hoped to effectually protect the animals from the rolling and pitching of the ship that are to be expected in heavy weather. To further aid them, each will be lifted clear of the deck by surcingles passed around their bodies and fastened to the roof above, which will swing them clear when the ship lists. The surcingles, contrary to what wculd be supposed, are never used in rough Weath>r. At such times the animals must shift for themselves, and when it becomes calmer they are swung up in the sur- cingles to give them the needed rest. T animals will not b2 allowed to lic cept in the veterinary hospital of Surgeon Plummer, 4th Cay "tween decks the will be house: jown ex- me fashion, Between the two rows are wi ssages, which will permit hostlers to pass to and fro while cleaning and fe-ding their charges. The feed troughs hang from wooden crosspieces above th? chest bars and are made of iron, being easiiy moved when necessary. A system of electric lighting and ventila- ticn is put in which help greatly in the care of tha stock. Incandescent lamps are placed at intervals all through the shi except in the lower hold, which will carry 800 tons of coal and forage. Patent fan will send the eir to piaces not otherwis: ventilated, and batteries of por lights ar2 hung where they may be carried at the end of a fifty-foot wire to dark recesses, The question of supplying fresh water for mals is an important one on such a e as this. Fourteen hundred gallons are daily reguired. It was first intended to supply this by tanks in th hold, which would necessitate pumping. Lieut. Camer- on, however, decided to place on board two condensers, each of 2,000 gallons capacity. ‘The tanks for these are placed high and Pipes conduct the water to where St is needed. Four hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds of oats, 133,000 pounds of bran, 850 tons of hay, and fifty tons of straw will be taken aboard. The straw,is for making mattresses to lay on the deSks where the equines ar> exercised and for bedding in the hospital. The Tacoma is expected to make Mantlat bay in fifty days. The trade winds will be caught out of San Francisco and the south- west monsoon when they are lost. tats helteesethetind newdata ALL ABOUT YOUR WATCH. Some Facts About Timepieces Which Many Persons Are Not Aware Of. From Pearson's Weekly. Open your watch and look at the wheels, springs and screws, each an indispensable part of the whole wonderful machine. No- tice the busy balance wheel as it files to and fro unceasingly day and night, year in and year out. This wonderful little ma- chine is the result of hundreds of years of study and experiment. The watch carried by the average man is composed of ninety-elght pieces, and its manufacture embraces more than 2,00) dis- tinct and separate operations. Some of the smallest screws are so minute that the unaided eye cannot distinguish them from steel filings or specks of dirt. Under a powerful magnifying glass a per- fect screw is revealed. The slit at the head is one-fiftieth of an inch wide. It takes 808,000 of these screws to weigh a pound, and a pound is worth £317. The hairspring is a strip of the finest steel, about nine and one-half inches long, one-hundredth of an inch wide, one-four- hundredth of an inch thick. It is coiled up in spiral form and finely tempered. The process of tempering these springs’ was long held as a secret by the few fortu- nate ones possessing it, and even now it is not generally known. Their manufacture requires great skill and care. : The strip is gauged to one-fifth of an inch, but no measuring instrument has ag yet been devised capable of fine enough gauging to determine beforehand by the size of the strip what the strength of the finished spring will be. > A one-five-hundredth part of an inch dif< ference in the thickness of the strip makeg a difference in the running of a watch of about six minutes per hour. 3 The value of these springs when finished and placed in watches is ernormous in pro- portion to the material from which they are made. A ton of steel made up into hair springs when in watches is worth more than twelve and one-half times the value of the same weight in pure gold. Hair-spring wire weighs one-twentleth of @ grain to the inch. One mile of wire weighs less than half a pound. The bal- ance gives five vibrations every second, 300 every minute, 18,000 every hour, 432,000 every day, and 157,680,000 every year. At each vibration it rotates about one and one-fourth times, which makes 197,- 100,000 revolutions every year. Take, for illustration, a locomotive with six-foot driving wheels. Let its wheels be run until they have given the same number of revolutions that @ watch does in a year, and they will have covered a distanos equal to twenty-eight complete circuits of the earth, All this @ watch does without other ate: tention than winding once every twenty< four hours, y ee It Looked Suspicious, From Puck. Weary Wraggs—"So de woman started. fer yer wid an ax, and yer skipped? Do yer t'imk she meant murder?” Trotter Long—“Well, I'm willing ter givé her de beueflt uy de doubt; but I thought | she meant work!” i There are two good things to be Adam, He never published law jokes, and he never told ought to have eaten some of mother used to make.—Boston