Evening Star Newspaper, August 27, 1898, Page 21

‘nd THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 1898-24 PAGES. es JOLLY TARS ASHORE New York Wild Over the THEY HAVE I? ALL THEIR OWN WAY Wiping Out Coney Island Shows to Awe the Natives. RIDER’S A ROUGH AIM Star. , 1898, or here ork, and ereto lying, hither from y last. New . That thing the som ory outsic mse of YORK Special Correspon which is called public sp what sweeping strstch of terr Manhattan, which the ¢ orker calls “the that is, New Y ar ‘Kk being account- ; but pub- hy sa sort of per- = patriots. He ecnsumes his d riotism as the hts when the fit is upon him. nian quantitie and when the hy al orgy of patriotism is over, he wants no more of it until, again, appears to recrea for a whirl in a very v ttered squadron, idiers bearing anything visible tion. Whether transplanted . id even r American—iacking ations to remind him The New Yorker to Kokomo or ka member that he was an hrg? outward manif. of it—is a nice problem. Immune. wit about the races and the music halls and the cake-waiks until the psycho- legical moment arrives for him to be Patriotic. Then —lacking toeweights — h> will go right up into the air. No shouter at an Jowa flag-raising and barbecue could be more patriotic than the New Yorker m if ephemeral, grip cue-shoute out man in triotism, whe! w Yorker is ply a patri And the arrival of the bluejac! © manned the guns of the American packets down in Santiago harbor the signal for the rkation of ater jew York upon one of its per- lodical patriotic jags; wherefore, the lads in the biue mustering shirts and the spot- less knife lanyards h: profited prodig- iously, if a shore whirl that is liabl> to make many a man of them, |: ing upon a cot in his ship's sick b fter it is all over, eive pink zebras crossing purpie tridges, may truthfully be said to accrue to their profit. There can be no doubt that New York has given, and is still giving. the sailors “good time,” according to the New Y estimaie of what a good time stands for. pon this town. is a year-in- per “Gwan,” said a 6th ep- er, affectionately, to a bunch of the blue- ts, when they attempted to pass their money over to him for liq they had ab- sorbed. “G'wan. Yer dust ain't no better @an Brazilian bonds in dis teepee. Yer money's counterfeit, see? Anyt'ing dat ye see, swipe it! An’ don’t chuck no bluff wid me about payin’ fer it. nottin’ here, un’stan Thereby the 6th avenue saloon keeper illustrated the spirit of the big town just now with reference to the boys who fought aboard Uncle Sam's line of boats down in Santiago harbor. Literally, everything in sight in this neck of the woods belongs to the “tlatfeet." The bluejackets are not taking violent advantage of the situation. Yez can’s pay fer About 1,000 of them, of their ships’ dif- ferent watches, have been ashore all the week, and yet one of them s yet k led his forehead before a police court istrate. Of course, this is not an en- ncing sign of complete lecorum on th It is a pretty convincing sign, that the c of the town have as much imbued with the patri hysteria as the ordinary citizens. In other years the writer has seen mz a United States man-o'-war's man s mute, with an accusative cop by his si New York police judges, ts of those other y Kid glove h either. But t a and before Manila and Santiago. A mai wearing the bluejacket uniform would have “Out of Sight in a Twinkling.” actual difficulty in getting himself run in just now In New York, even supposing he ‘wanted to be run in. ‘A couple of nights ago an old flatfoot, with the Texas cap rib- bon and the rating badge of a quarter- on his starboard arm, stood lean- uinst a pillar at the New York en- of the Brooklyn bridge. sound asleep. His chamois money bag, well filled, hung from his neck by its porpoise hide string. in plain view outside of his muster- ing shirt. The great world stormed and raged around him, but he moved not. He ‘was a leaf out of the book of the old navy —“of the days of the old Tuscarora”—and ‘with thousands of rushing men and women surging all around him, he slumbered on, beatific grins now and again crossing his weather-beaten countenance. Leaning against a pillar ten feet away, a huge bridge cop regarded the sleeping tar. The passing throng of men and women glanced indulgently at the old flatfoot and went their ways. The cop swung his club compiaisantly, and continued to watch the sleeping deep water man of the fighting service. A bunch of newsboys caught sight ® slumbering, oid, heavy-weather man n to dance around him. they yelled at him, “wy don't yer sit on de coib-stone, Jack? Sit down an’ give dose knock-out drops a chanst t’ settle.” : Cared for by the Cop. ‘Ths watchful cop crept up behind them and gave each of them a lightning-swift touch-up with his night-stick. “Chase yerselves,” said the cop. “Let de old sea-geezer snooze, can’t ye?” Then the cop resum2d his place against fhe pillar and watched the still peacefully be of patriotic hysteria gets | T) j upon their surroundings were funny. sleeping Sld-timer for another five minutes. Then he went ep to the old man and gave kim a gentle dig in the ribs with his ex- tended fingers. “Hey, there, grampa,” said the cop, “all hands on deck.” ‘The old quartermaster came to, rubbed his eyes and looked around him. He was apparently puzzled. H> gave a fore-and-aft tug at his bell-bottoms, and said he to the co: Mate, I'm adrift as to me port. What make out this to be—Montevideo or ngier? By the standin’ lights, I should call it—” her2 a lucid interval took hold of him—“‘oh, me ey2, it’s th’ old town!” “That's wot, Jack,” said the cop. “An’ ye've got too much gilt in that bag t’ be snoozin’ in th’ sight o’ so many grafters. Better steer a ccurse for a shore hammock an’ turnin. Can ye navigate?” The old-timer held up his horny hands Turned the Basket Upside Down. and looked at th> red and blue compasses n the backs of them. less I can git me bearin’s from said he. these, Then the cop escorted the old man across the street and had him put to bed in a Park Row hotel. A few nights ago a pair of the sailors—a gunrer’s mate and an ciler—were walking up Broadway, arm-in-arm. Their caps were very much over their ears, and. the side- walk seemed to b2 a deck in a squall for them, so circuitous and eccentric seemed their navigation. The proprietor of one of the swellest hotels in New York happen2d to be coming from thg other direction. The boniface looked as if he might have dined pretty well himself. “Avast there, shipmate: Proprietor of the hotel, as the pair of tars. Of course no man in the United States navy, or in any other navy, ever heard any such expression as that—Captain Marryatt and Fenimore Cooper to th? contrary not- withstanding—and so they kept on their circuitous way. ,’ called out the he got alongside “Hey. there, Jack!” called out the hotel man, and the Jacks, still arm-in-arm, wheeled as one man. “We'll ride,” said ths hotel man, out of hand, and he signaled to a cabman: “Mi as well ri’ as walk,” assented the two tars, and they stepped into the cab, the hote! man following and sitting be- tween them on their laps. The hotel man directed the cabman to drive to his hotel. When the three arrived at the hotel, the rotel man got out and conducted the two tars to one of the private dining rooms and began to open wine for them. ‘Then he or- dered a big feed for them. Men about town began to drop in, and the hotel man invited them into the private dining room to meet his men-o'-war’s men. It was a very tu- multuous couple of hours for all hands. When the tars had arrived at that stage that is called “out” over here, the hotel man had them put to bed in the suite of rooms in his hotel that is reserved for dis- tinguished visitors from abroad and for the great men of this land visiting New York. re were six rooms to the suite, an olive n room, a white and gilt room, and so on. The hotel man awakened the two tars at 10 o'clock the next morning himself. The bluejackets, of course, didn't know the hotel man from Adam, and their remarks They figured it that somehow or another they had fallen asieep on the night before in tha admiral’s cabin of the flagship to which they «were attached. The hotel man told them all about it, and spread for them a breakfast such as very few men in New York or anywhere else could have had on that morning. When the two tars left the ga Picked Out the Good Canes. hostelry at noon, with the whole slack of their nmustering shirts stuffed with fifty- cent cigars, they looked like men in a trance. Coney's Quiet Village Life. Likew the bluejackets have owned Coney Island in fee simple ever since the first gang of them came ashore on Satur- day afternoon last. Not that they. have been the recipients, at the hands of the pinny-poppy-show runners and innumer- able grafters of the awful Coney phantas- magoria of any favors; the possession of Ccney has been given to the bluejackets, not by the cheerful workers and joint run- ners thereof, but by the visitors thereto from Greater New York. On any afternoon down at Coney, His Island this week, you might have seen bubbling-spirited men of New York who known—even celebrities, some of them—convoying their half dozen or so of broadly grinning blue- jeckets. The tars no sooner hop off the trains at Coney than they are seized upon by inoculances of the patriotic hysteria, dragged off to the “scenes of the simple village life that prevaileth at Coney” and submerged in a tempestuous tide of tom- fcolery. The tars stand for it, because they haven't been on liberty, some of them, for eight or ten months, and because {t’s their nature to ‘vant to see what is coming to them to see when they hit the beach. So the New York man, well-dressed and con- sidered as a classy personage in the com- munity, towing his string of five or six man-of-war’s men, has been one of the amusing sights of the week down at the isle where the sobful sea makes ineffectual orts to drown the frantic, shrieking “mirth” of people who fancy they have fun down there. Yet there are even things down at Cory that the tars won't stand for. Bluejackets of the navy of Uncle Sam are a humane, even a tender-hearted lot. A bunch of them, towed about at Coney a couple of afternoons ago by a prosperous young jeweler of Maiden Lane —who, by the way, seemed to be a heap less dignified man than any of the tars, woozy a3 some of them were—arrived at that booth where a negro man pokes his head through a piece of canvas and per- mits visitors to throw passe eggs at him at the rate of three throws for 10 -ents. A low-browed white man runs that game. “Let's have a hack at this,” said the conductor of the bluejackets,’ picking up a handful of the eggs. The tars stood still and gradually the meaning of the game soaked into their minds. The jeweler, their conductor, hurl- ed one of the eggs, and it struck the negro fair on the forehead. A bronzed bo’sun’s mate—comfortably drunken, too—stepped from the bunch and laid his heavy hand upon the arm of the young man just as he was about to throw another egg. “Matey,” said the bo’sun’s mate, “I may have this kore thing wrong. and then again traybe I haven't; but it kind o’ strikes me that this here ain’t no right kind of a game for square men to git mixed up in. It lcoks to me like it’s playin’ it pretty low gown on the coon. He may be up agin’ it pretty hard, but it seems to me like ought t' be able to git some other kind of a job o' work outside o’ doin’ this. No offense to you, sir’—addressing the low- browed white man who runs the passe egg game—‘but we'll just suppose this here basket o' eggs t' have met with « bit o” foul weather and t’ have sort o’ Lakes turtle, an’ gone down with all hands”. he deliberately reached over behind the counter, picked up the bushel casket fill- ed up with old-vintaged eggs and turned the basket upside down on the ground. The noise of cracking shells was mishty, and tke succeeding aroma was mightier, but the game was suspended for that day. A Rip-Roaring Staff. Another effervescent young New Yorker, who had a temporary staff, for rip-roaring purposes only, of the man-o’-war's men following in his wake, corralled a Rovgh Rider on one of the Coney piers to com- plete his party. Then he led the bunch around, showing them the whole thing. They came to one of the stalls where you pitch rings at canes and get the canes you encircle with the rings. The most unsob-r man among the bluejackets was a huge seaman, with a dancing girl tattooel on the back of his hairy right hand. Now, quoits is a game that is played in the United States navy when the ships lie in smooth ports. The huge seaman picked up a handful of the rings, and began throw- ing them with a discriminating eye. He’ picked out the good canes—the canes with the big handles, difficult to encircle. He'd probably have been winning canes yet if the supply had held out and the boss of the cane game hadn't stopped him after he had-acquired twelve of them—the pick of the lot. “De game's closed,” said the boss of the cane game, after he had iost an even dozen of his best ones; “try de stan’ fur- der down. I ain’t runnin’ no Spanish fieet.”” Each carrying a couple of canes, the party next halted at a shooting gallery. The Rough Rider—he didn’t scem so very unsteacy on his legs—got hold of the first gun. It was a magazine shooting gallery rifle, and away under the weight of the rifle the trooper—an Oklahoma man—was accustomed to. He picked it up gingerly, hefted it and said with a grin: “Say, if any feller was to shoot me with this thing, and I'd find it out, I’d slap him on the wrist.” Then he started to shoot. He just de- scribed a half circle with the muzzle of the rifle, and the bells rang out like young chimes. The magazine was charged again, and the Rcugh Rider, steadying himself on his feet, popped away at the dancing glass balls, rising and falling on jets of water. He put them all out of sight in a twinkling. “Say,” said the shooting gallery man, passing over both of his boxes of cigars, “here's all de smckes 1 got. Take ’em an’ g’wan. Wha’ cha want—t’ put me out o’ business?” A pary of the tars from the Oregon were being corvoyed down the Coney Bowery late on Thursday night by a vociferous beckmaker and a gang of his “commis- siorers,” out for.a “time.” They all stop- ped to listen to a “barker” in front of an “oriental palace of delight.” Ranged alorgside the barker were half a dozen women in the gaudy make-up familiar to these who remember the Chicago midway. ‘They were all supposed to be Fatimans direct from Syria. A squat fireman from the Oregon happened to get wetged in Fis crowd directly beneath one of the Fati- mahs. She reached down, calmly picked his cap from his head and appropriated the Oregon cap ribbon. “What d’you care, Jack?” said she, in the patois of Fatimahs of Cherry Hill. “Lok at th’ fun you're havin’. I need this in me bizness, anyaow, alretty, see?” Then she restored the ribbouless cap to Jack's head. “Say, I'm goin’ back to me ship,” said the tar; and he may be—only may be— abeard by this time. 2 FAIR STREET CAR CONDUCTORS. They Have Suddenly Made an Ohio Town Famous. From Harper's Bazar. The town of Chillicothe, Ohio—albeit only a rural city, so to speak, of 15,000 inhabi- tents—has suddenly become famous, and all because seven young women have en- tered upon the duties of street car con- Guetors. From the Atlantle to the Pacific the news has been flashed, labor leaders bave held up their hands’ and lifted up their voices in horror, long editocials have been written gravely discussing the eco- nomic side of the matter, women’s journals have hailed with delight this entrance of women into a new field of usefulness, the manegement of the Chillicothe electric street railway has called down upon its Gefenseless head a flood of blessings and maledictions, and the young girls them- selves have been called everything netween the two superiatives best and worst. And yet nobody has seemed to consider it worth while to inquire why they were em- ployed. The answer is simple enough. ‘Lhe management of the road found that a great many people were riding on their cars without dropping the requisite nickel in the slot, so they decided that conductors were needed. The management of the road also found that the earnings would justify employing men at the salar vegue. In this dilemma seme genius sug- gested that young women be employed. An advertisement was inserted in a local pa- per, offering four dollars a week. ‘There were over a hundred applicants, une even writing trom far-off Denver. Seven were seleéted, were put to work June 13, are giv- ing the best of satisfaction, and have in- creased the earnings of the company 30 per cent. The young women themselves are miore then pieased with their positions. They are on duty only about nine hours a day, and have one day’s vacation every week. ‘They have found the work healthful and pleas- ant, with nothing about it to offend uny one’s sense of modesty or propriety. They Fave adopted a neat uniform, and mean to hold on to their positions as long as they can. Perhaps the most important feature of the innovation is the interest with which it has been watched by the managers of street car lines in small cities all over the ccuntry. Now that the success of the ex- periment is assured, a number of them are preparing to do likewise, and it is predicted that within a year women conductors will be employed upon practically all the lines of the smaller cities of the country. : See Mexico and the Philippines. From the Contemporary Review. From the foundation of Manila in 1571 up to the year 1819 the colony of the Phil- ippine Islands was a dependency of Mex- ico. During that long period there was absclutely no direct intercourse between the mother country and her far eastern coleny. Everybody and everything des- tined for the Philippines passed through Mexico until the American colony threw off the Spanish yoke. henceforth, for fifty-one years, ccmmunication with Spain was via the Cape of Good Hope. The commercial histery of the Philippines would be too long to relate here in extenso; suffice it to say that it is a series of strug- gies between the colonists, who sougi.t liberty to trade freely with Mexico and China, and the Spanish king and his councillors and the trading community in Spain, who persistently determined to cur- tail that freedom as much as possible. The policy of the Spanish merchant class was to jiold Mexico as their exclusive market. “ They opposed Philippine traffic with China because this necessitated sil- ver dollars, which they knew must come from Mexico surreptitiously, if the island- ers were not openly permitted to give gocds in exchange. The famous galleons, which were so frequently Interrupied and seized by British privateers from the days of our Queen Elizabeth onward, formed the only connection between Mexico (Aca- puleo) and Manila. Malapropos, From Harper's Weekly. Miss Elderly—“That, Captain Fuddleton, ig a portrait of my grandfather. He fought all through the war of independence.” Captain Fuddleton—Deah me, how—aw— SIS econ you must have tm os tf x eS Mel a7 WINS WLM PN PITA TNS Boom! A report like a cannon, Boom! or a park of artillery, rang sharply out on the still air, and one of the very highest peaks on the wall of ice was shivered into fragments, falling with a loud splash four hundred feet into the water below. “By Jove! That wasa Jim’ Dandy!” cried Harry Page, as he stood with Dane Hartmann on the deck of the Queen, at anchor in Glazier Bay, gazing with glowing eyes upon the wonderful Muir Glazier. Every few troments there would come the sound: of a sharp explosion, or a sud- den crash, and some monument of snowy beauty would fall from the icy wall like an avalanche of snow, filling the air with a shower ‘of powdery “flakes, and tumble headlong into the foam below, to drift with the tide to the open sea, or to join Its fel- lows in the ice-rimmed bay, where they gleamed with such beautiful rainbow tints that the inlet had the appearance of fatry- One nee ting (Wrarsvislliexcemanoneane drew a deep breath, and then surrept tiously gave himself ‘several hard_pinc’ to assure himself that he was still in land of the living and not in a world of dreams. But his doubts upon the subiect were suddenly brought to an abrupt termi- nation by Harry giving him a sharp prod in the back, as he exclaimed: “Come, old man, don’t look so glum. One would think vere frozen as stiff as yonder Sce At this moment the professor joined the boys. His pale countenance, which gener- ally wore an expression, of the utmosi pla- cidity, seemed unduly ruffled. His glasses had fallen from his nose and were dangling in his beard, as he stared about him with a short-sighted glare, utterly oblivious of his loss. “'Tis wonderful! Sublime!” he mur- mured. “Boys,” he continued, after a pause, “it is a sight you will never see again. Improve every moment——” But Harry, who had spent all his spare seconds on the trip in counting the number of times his uncle had repeated that ad- monitory preface to a lengthy lecture, on the advisability of improving each shirirg moment, and haying arrived at the three hundred and forty-ninth count, broke in with, “Why, Uncle Dick, where are your glasses? You look as if you had been struck by a cyclone.” “My glasses!” nervously repeated Pro- fessor Dvane, as he began to glare wildly about him in search of the missing eyes; but at that moment Deane came to the rescue and the profesor was restored to his normal condition, “Tell m:, professor,” inquired Dane, after another long look at Magnificent spec- tacle before him, “wha, first discovered this wonderful glacier?” 3 “An old schoolmate ef ;mine, Professor John Muir, state geologist of California,” replied Professor Deane, “‘He was the first white man to visit theglacjer, and 'tis said his first view of it wasrin 1879, from an In- dian canoe.” t w At that moment thee came a sharp de- tonation, followed by @ far away rumbling sound. taal “What is that rumbling?” asked Dane quickly. “It sounds like an earthquake.” “It is the ice breaking away far back in the mountain passes,” ireplied Mr. Deane. Not long after, as dhectwo boys were standing on deck, their-attention was sud- denly altracted to a party of sailors who were being lowered over (the side of the ship. Eager With the-novelty of their sur- roundings, and wide-awake to each new phase of the scene, the bexs rushed quickly to the side of the steamer. where, they per- ceived two boat8,manned with sailors, who were armed with pickaxes and hatchets, bobbing up and down on the wave: “What are they” going to 402?” asked Harry, curiously, of a good natured look- ing tar, who was Hauling up a Jong rope, while calling, “Steady as ye go, now!” in sort of a sing song sailor fashion, that quite won the boy’s admiration. ; “There's a fair wind aft tonight and we'll soon be under sailing orders, so the men are off to cut ice down the bay,” replied the man. For some time the lads stood and watched the sailors slide up and down the rope, un- til at length Harry cried: “Come, Dane, let's swing down and go with the satlors to see the fun.” “The professor might object, and then there would be a row,” replied Dane du- biously, although as much inclined to see the sport as his friend. — - A “Oh, Uncle Dick won’t care. We can't come to grief, and he’s too busy talking with the Senator to mind what we are up to.’ “Well, you go and ask him.” answered Dane. “All right! It's a go,’ called out Harry a moment later, as he rejoyned his compan- jon. “Uacle Dick's head is buried in the clouds, and he’s walking on air. I don’t believe he knew what | was talking about, but he said we could go,” Just before the boat dropped down the bay a dark figure was seen to slide down the rope and, with a hasty jump, land in the foremost boat. It was Dane, who, a moment later, saw Harry come flying down behind him amid the loud hurrahs of the sailors, and give a quick leap into the near- est boat, the one in the rear. But it was too late for Harry to rectify his mistake, for the first boat had already swung clear of her moorings and with a dip of the oars was skimming lightly over the water to the sides of the bay. —~ A row of a couple of miles brought the boat into a small cove, where several im- mense bodies of ice grouped them- selves apparently into a solid mass. Steer- ing to a good-sized rock of ice more free of dirt and stones than its fellows, the men cleared off the upper crust of snow that covered it, and then began to chip off big, sharkling blocks, which were quickly land- ed in the bottom of the boat. For some time Dane stood silently watching the men, but presently he grabbed a pickax and set to work as hard as any of the sailors. Suddenly a loud boom sounded in his ear, followed by a terrific roaring noise; he heard a sailor give a sharp cry and looked up just in time to see a huge iceberg that had suddenly breken from the mass of bergs nearby bearing down upon them with lfghtning-like speed. Horrified, Dane stared wildly about him, realizing that in a second’s time their little boat would be swamped, laden as she was with stupen- dous blocks of ice. 218 Another moment and/*tHe iceberg had struck the boat, but simultaneously with the crash of shivering timber Dane made a flying leap and landedtin’a bed of snow on top of the moving! wads. But the bed of snow proved to be ‘a’ hard crust of ice, and a second later the boy felt himself slipping off. His feet weresalready touch- ing the water when with a quick movement he grasped a spar ofsiceothat protruded above his head. With:a-snap it parted in his hand, and Dane felt that his end had come. .With a heart heating like a sledge hammer and his breath -caming in heayy easne ne frantically = 8 ed to clutch a jagged rift of ice at his; aide. ‘Thank God! This time. he succeeded, for the ice held firm, and then, slowly, step by step, he finally mai to secure a firm feothold on the floating iceberg. Panting and shivering,. he had been deluged with a showery pray from the overturned boat, he ga about him and perceived he was almost imbedded behind a huge snow bank that towered on top of the iceberg, completely cutting off his view of the capsized boat and the steamer in_the distance beyond, Frightened by his position, he uttered a Icud shout, but, in the booming of the ice- bergs his cry was lost. He then attempted to climb to the top of the snow bank, but it was slippery work, and when he finally gained the top he was miles and miles away from the steamer, which began to look like a speck in the distance. Again he called aloud, but there was no answer, and wis iceberg bore steadily on her course toward the open sea; but he kept on shouting until he was utterly ex- havsted. He now began to realize his peril, for undoubtedly the to see his flying leap and would report him drowned, so all chance of rescue ship would be gone. He would swi shore, but as he glanced ut him he real- ized the impossibility of such a feat, for the iceberg, drifting with the tide, not only shot far out from shore, but he A MOGNLIGHT RIDE ON AN ICEBERG. 2 iS WRITPEN POR THE EVENING STAR BY RENA J. HALSEY. (Copyright, 1888, by The International Literary and News Service.) “(Ped % = RAs EE =e W SoS S49 W WOW" KINNEY CASAS WOUS UY knocked senseless by the immense bodies of floating ice in the bay. The air, which had been warm and balmy, now seemed to grow sharp and cold, and then the long twilight glow faded into the shades of night. Dimly in the distance Dane could discern the snowy hood of Mount Fairweather looming to his right, while on his left lay Skidmore Island, en- circled with rows cf floating icerocks, which gleamed and sparkled in the moon's rays as she appeared above the horizon. It was a beautiful scene, and this the boy dimly realized, even in the midst of the horrible fate staring him in the face. On and on the iceberg swiftly sailed, until at length, tired and weary, the boy must have fallen asleep—only to awaken with a sud- den start, to realize that he was drifting on an iceberg on the open sea, surrounded by floating masses of ice that bumped and crashed about him with heavy thuds. But through the long, weary night the iceberg drifted steadily on, and Dane's hope that he would be picked up by some passing steamer began to grow dim. If he could have steered the berg into the channels through which the steamer had passed on her way to the bay he felt there might have been a chance for life, but once out on the Pacific ocean and he knew there would be no hope. Suddenly in the dim gray light of early dawn he jumped to his feet. A light! A light! With eyes almost starting out of his head, he glared at the faint signal that gieamed far away. Slowly, slowly the dim light flickered, and then with a sob Dane saw it was growing larger. It was a ship and she Was headed in his direction. Then tie boy began to shout with all his strength, until he was so exhausted that only hoarse, rasping sounds came from his throat. At length, with a cry, he pulled off his coat, and, tearing it in pieces, with a match he found in his pocket he set it on fire. A second later a bright flame shot up across the water. Will they see his signal? Yes, thank God, for suddenly Dane saw one of the lee boats sent adrift of her sripes, and two sailors sprang into her, lowered to the s3a and now, with strong, sweeping strokes of the oar, the little boat shot over the dark waters toward the boy. Breathlessly Dane watched the boat, the ceaseless lapping of the waves againsi the j iceberg the only sound that struck his ear. And now the boy saw a rope flung far over the heaving waters. What was he to do? Swim—yes, swim for his iife. With 2 muttered prayer to God to give him strength Dane sprang into th sea and disappeared, but a moment later the sail- crs saw him heroically struggling toward the rope. It was hard work, a dead pull against wind and tide, for there was a strong sea on and the boy's strength was weakened by his long fast. But the rope seemed drifting farther and farther away with the tide. A ringing shout ef encouragement from the sailors reached his ear, and then again th2 rope was flung across the dark waves. One more struggle, a few more strokes, and now with benumbed fingers and breath ecming in choking gasps, he seized th2 rope, felt the men hauling him to the boat. Two hours later, when he was able to tell his story, he found he was on a wh@ling ship, bound for Alaska; but the kind cap- tain soon turned the prow of his vess2] and headed for Sitka. Three days later Dane, with a cry of joy, grasped the hand of the professor, who, in his delight at seeing the boy alive, fairly sobbed with joy. And Harry—wall, the lucky rascal was in the other boat, which managed to steer clear of the floating iceberg. But Dane, poor fellow! had met with an experience which would last him a lifetime, as many a bright moonlight night he would awak2n and for a moment think he was on an ice- berg drifting on the open sea. Se CHRISTIAN ENDEAVOR NOTES The last Sunday in the month, tomorrow, will be observed by most of the Distric Christian Dndeavor Societies by a conse- cration service in the evening, the topic being “Witn Your Might.” Among other 00d points on the topic, Prof. Amos R. Wells makes this one: “When students fali in their studies it is usually because they fail to study with their might, Tue seeret of memory is attention. When the irdividual energies of body and soul are focused upon a fact that fact is burnt into the brain. Those who study with one eye upon the clock and one hand upon the ten- nis racquet, wil. find whatever wave of truth comes from their text book quite ac- curately met and neutralized by the wave of impatience and the Wave of sport.” Charles Kingsiey said: “I go at what I am about as if there was noting cise In the world for the time being.” The second quarterly conference Of Mt. Vernon Place M. E. Church South and its West Washington mission was held at the church last Wedresday evening. There is on Admiral Dewey’s flagship Olympia a Christian endeavor society. and tLey subserlve to a pledge much more spe- cific an Stringent th: el gilie and an their landlubber A Nashville echo meeting was held la: ni i'd last Sunday eveaing by the endeavor suciety of the Maryland Avenue Baptist Churen, “ate Charles F Grane presided, and after a few rty words of welcome by tl of president, Mr. W. C. are eae Shand, ex-president of the District union’ spoke upon the missionary and. spisitecl features of the convention, and Mr A. L Dietrich, first vice president-elect of the spoke upon the patriotic features. Sang several hymns from the cphvention song book. The pastor of the » Rev. ;, Naylor, is assisting Rev. Mr. Ellison in the conduct of evans listic services in King George county. Va" The following state Christian Endecvor conventions are announced to take place during the next two months: Connecticut, at Waterbury, October 4 and &; Delaware, Wilmington, October 26 to 23; ; September 6 to 8; Massachusetts, Brock- Ulm, October 27 and 28:' Missnesot: New Miss ¢ City, October 21 to 23: New Hamanns Manchester, October 3 to 5; New Jersey, Asbury Park, September 26 : York, Utica, October 3 to 5; Etomite Harrisburg, October 4 to 6; South Dakoty Huron, August 25 to 28; Vermont, Bellows Falls, October 4 to 6; Virginia, Alexandra. September 22 to 25; Wisconsin, Bau Claire, October 13 to 16. The fourth ‘Australasian convention meets in Melbourne, September 0 21. Dr. F. E. Clark announces this week's en- rollment of Quiet Hour comrades ax aocn The First n The Tenth Legion enrollment is now 10,948; so far only one person has asked to have his name removed. z ‘ev. S. Ward Richter, pastor of th taville Presbyterian ‘Chureh, ts slowly recovering from typhoid fever at th fela Hospital. ip e army and navy Christian commis- sion ¥. M. C. A. tent at Washington bar- Tacks, established for the benefit of the | hundreds of sick and convalescent soldiers located at the arsenal, is doing noble serv- ice. To Mr. John B, Sh mi a mem- ber of the local committee of the army and navy Christian commission, and a promi- nent Christian Endeavorer, is largely due the success which is attending this work. Mr. Orville Drown, a member of the Inter- mediate Society of Christian Endeavor of the Vermont Avenue Christian Church, is present at the arsenal day and night, as custodian of the tent, and has become a favorite with the men. Guvod, fresh liter- ature, current numbers of the best zires; are much needed. Contributions this character should be sent direct to arsenal, marked “Y. M. C. A. Tent.” ; —_—>+—_— Correct! From Judge. | Bright Boy—“Some Spaniard, I guess,” BASEBALLINENGLAND |? Good Progress Has Been Made in the Last Ten Years. SCORE CARDS NOT POPULAR Prizes Offered and All Players Are Amateurs. SPECTATORS LIKE BIG SCORES From the Strand Magazine. All lovers of the American national game ot base bali exnnot but heartily congratu- late themselves on the great strides which their favorite game is at present making in England. Dozens of different games are included in that compendious expression “sport,” but very few Englishmen will ad- mit that any form of it comes up to cricket, altnough in the winter months, ch are off months as regards cricket, many will indulge in a somewhat violent flirtation with foot ball. The prospects of the game have wonderfully increased since its introduction to England in the year 1874, just twenty-four years ago. Twenty-four years certainly seems rather a long infancy for any game, but it cannot honestly be said that base bali was properly brought to the attention of the great British public until five years ago. The game played in 1874 was between the Bostons and Phila- delphia Athletics, who were making a tour through the country, giving a number of exhibition games. But, as was wofully ap- parent afterwards, they did not go the right way to work to show the game in the most favorable light. Their play was ad- mittedly skiiful, but, as a matter of fact, it was too much so, and the spectators were unable to follow and undersiand it, and the chances of base ball taking even a lowly little place among the various amuse- ments of the English were few indeed. As far as arousing any interest in it was concerned, the game was acknowledged to be a failure by ail, including the players themselves. And so for fifteen years all efforts to make it popular in England were abandoned. Its Real Introduction. In 1889 what may be called the practical “sendoff” of the game took place, and would undoubtediy have been a success but for one thing—the weather. The presence of the Prince of Wales was secured, and the match took place at the historic Ken- nington Oval, which, during the summer season, is now devoted exclusively to cricket, and where ail the great matches between the champion counties are played. But the English were accompanied to the ground by one of their world-famous fogs, and an occarional ghostly figure flitting to and fro was all that could be seen. To those who thoroughly understood the game, it was a magnificent exposition; but those assembled were for the most part novices, and knew as much about America’s na- tional sport as the average schoolboy does of politics; and, as an exhibition game, the extent o: its success in popularizing base bail was about equal to that achieved b: the Bostons and Philadelphia Athietics fifteen years previous. But the ice had broken, and the oval match was talked about. The presence of royalty helped in a measure, and some Americans who hap- pened at the time to be resident in England —base ball enthusiasts—taught a few Eng- lish friends how to play, and the ball then set rolling has not yet stopped. Steady Progress in London. The game made steady progress in the north of England and in the midland coun- ties, but in the south, strangely enough, where the first exhibition game was given, it languished. Any game which is worth while playing always finds a welcome among hardy miners and workers in the great manufacturing towns of the north, and it very soon became popular there. In 1893 the National Base Ball As- sociation of England was started, and ir the following year the London Base Ball Association was formally incorporated. In ar there were five base ball clubs in London—the J's, Remingtons, Electrics, Postmen and Thespians, the then cham- pion team. The games now played are all of them seriously contested, and quite aside from the prizes to be won, which are many of them very valuable, the honor of becoming the champion team of the year is much coveted and hardly fought for. Of course, the greatest supporters and players of the game in London are the res- ident Americans, but the number of Eng- lish converts are increasing every day, and are now assisting to promote the game in every way in their power. When they compare it to cricket, it is not at all to the advantage of the latter. One way in which they think it a decided improvement cn cricket is the number of times a player goes in to bat. Base Ball vs. Cricket. A team of cricketers, watching a game in progress at the Crystal Palace grounds, were somewhatt amused at what seemed to them the extreme simplicity of it all, atd consequently, as a means of showing what a superior game cricket was to e ball, declared they could play base ball far better thai any base baller there could play cricket. A match was arranged. and the cricketers were allowed to play seven- teen men against their opponents’ nine. In addition to this, they were given the ad- vantage of five “put outs” per inning, but in the end only managed to secure six runs to forty-seven. As might have been ex- pected, their scoffing was changed to admi- ration; they immediately, showed an in’ nation to understand the game thoroughly, and many of them are now among the leading English exponents of the game. Several intercricket and base ball games were played during the season. chiefly aris- ing from the foregoing incident. The interest which the general public now take in the game is deep-seated, and it is to be hoped lasting. Especially is this so in the north. At first it was as much as could be done to get an English audience by a liberal supply of “paper,” but now- adays they pay their shillings as willingly to see a base ball match as they formerly did for cricket. Even the small boy in England has learnt the game. One thing in connection with the game the public have not tackled, and that is the score card. Most of the spectators refuse to trouble about it, They like the excitement ana fun, and the litle imtricacies of the score card are ignored for the time. The scoring-board was put up long after the game had been successfully played in Ergiand, and although the English people und:2rstood the intricacies of the diamond, they had yet to learn the more puzzling in- tricacies of the scoring-board. For days during the most interesting games the at- tention of the crowd was riveted upon this remarkable puzzle, ev2n to the detriment of the fine play on the diamond. At iast, hcwever, they began to understand, and at present ‘the scoring-board, in the latest American style, is a prominent fzature of all the English grounds. Big Scores in Favor. Base ball “sports” know that the quality of a game is shown by the number of runs made by the opposing teams, and that the smaller the score the better the game usual- ly is. Consequently in the games between the National League teams, wher the science of base ball is shown to the high- est degree, the scores are generally small, ard often nin> innings are played without a single run being put up on the boards. In England, on the other hand, the average outsider thinks that the best’ game, as in cricket, is that in which the largest num- ber of runs is scored. It is no unusual Sttes, but -end about the While it won th sporting p as well 8 the ordinary daily and weekly pap: take an interest in tt, in the most im ant moaiches devoting nearly half a col to it, which, when it Is taken into cons eration that cycling, wing, t hockey, ete., have to be istied with a dozen Ines, is something worth m ing. Many curious comments are m: the English spectators on the o wern by the players. Th> masks worn by same oss, time. the umpire and catcher and the ste pad rn by the latter rially their fancy. They are used to the leggings and gloves, but the mask arouses the kee! est amusement. The game is decidedly go- ing ahead, although not so fast as it was three years ago, and in the last year its position has remained stationary. This year it is being reorganized entirely. A splendid diamond has been secured at the famous Crystal Palace, where any one who takes an interest in the game always finds a welcome, and players can be seen there pitching the ball and swinging the bat in true American style. Come to Stay. It isthe belief of the American enthusi- asts in England that the game has come to stay, and certainly to all appearances it has taken a firm hold of the sporting in- stincts of the Englishman. Of course, it is played to a great extent for the pastime of Americans in England, and whether the English like it or not, they are bound, soon- er or later, to fall into it. Amateur at letes of every kind come into it from the suburban localities, and the converts de- clare they like it better than game they have yet played. There is more exercise to be got « of it, t say, and they would rather spend two hours at base ball than a whole day at any other game. To. see to what an extent it has grown, one had only to pay a visit to the ground be- fore mentioned, at Hyde Farm, Balham, which has now been given up owing to the splendid inducements offered tal Palace Company to make of the main attractions of that pleasure resort. Three years ag popular a great bare field stood in place grand stand and refreshment bars. game das pros- pered even better in the north, and it has been computed that there are twenty or thirty teams playing during the season around and about Derby. The audiences everywhere appear to be well satisfied with the amusement they receive, judging from the crowds which ‘ cially at the Crystz ace. On one bank holidays last season over 10,000 spec- tators watched a game. Possibly not one in a hundred understood, but they did not leave . until it was over, so attractive was it to them. Enthusiastic Crowds. To prove that more than a local interest, too, is taken in it, I need only point out the distance the crowds which attend the games have to travel. To get to the Crys- tal Palace they have to travel eight miles; end to the Balham grounds, the nearest in London, most onlookers have to travel two or three miles. If a ground could be pro- cured in the center of London it is calcu- latea that just twice as many would at- tend, as the great popularity of the famous Oval Cricket Ground is partly due to its central position, and the ease with which one can get to jt by tram, train or omni- bus. Many things have ‘contributed to make it as popular as it is in Enp.and. Foot ballers have taken to it, because they find it keeps them in condition during the summer. They get splendid exercise from it, and consequently play it a good deal. Base stealing an English audience especial- ly likes to see, and the catcher arouses a good deal of interest, but the “coach” fur- njsbes the greatest amusement. Of course, he must not speak to any one except the base runner, but his remarks to that indi- vidual often prevent the interest in a game from getting low, as often happens in a cricket match, especially if he has a witty tongue. Excellent Ball Ground The most popular and widely patronized ground is that in the Crystal Palace at Sydenham, in the southeast of London. The up-to-date proprietors of the great glass palace saw that the game would become popular, and now the London base ballers have as fine a base ball ground as any out- side the United States, and, indeed, com- parable to many in that blessed country. But the Wallsend and Stockton grounds, in the north of England, are good, and can be compared to no other ground in England, with the possible exception of the one men- tioned at Sydenham. The ground at this letter place is @ great natural amphi- theater. Games are played there two or Uaree times a week during the season, and an excellent band has been provided by the management of the glass house. The Bal- ham pitch was both picturesque and pret and had an excellent grand stand, refr ment bar and tea house. Two years ago a ground was opened at Wembley Park, and is now much patronized. In the north we have the Derby grounds, a handsome park, the property of Mr. Francis W. Ley, the president of the English National Base Ball Association. The grand stands stretch out on both sides of the ground, and 5,000 spec- tators can see the game from them. Ameri- cans visiting England will be well repaid by a visit there. Both Stockton and Middles- brough have grounds, owned by companies, which, up to the present, havé proved a profitable speculation to the shareholders. Darlington, Walker, Wallsend — where the coals come from—and Claravale, all have good grounds; but the Newcastle base ballers have not yet indulged in the luxury of a private ground, and play most of their games on the town moor. It is neverthe- less the opinion of Americans here that none of the English base ball grounds can be compared to the American venues of Play. The English game fs in all res tical with the American. As rej Players, there are no profession: ever, the whole of the forty or fifty teams in England being comprised wholly of ama- teurs: The English players cannot be com- pared to any American exponents of the game in the states, and if a team of the best American players were pitted against a team of the best English, the odds are that the Americans would come out of the contest victorious. The most that an aver- age English team could do would be to meet a fourth-rate team from the United States. One of the music hall “mummers” is said to have spent close upon £2,000) ($19,000) pushing the game forward. There are practically no English manufacturers sup- perting the game. Of course it has not paid its promoters, but they did not take it up a3 a money-making scheme, nor with any idea of benefiting their pockets. The assistance they have given has been given solely for love of the game, and of pushing it in England, and bringing it before the Erglish public as a game worth studying and playing. The public at present do not know enough of the game to criticise it. In France and Australia. The game is also making gocd progress in France, and the Americans in Paris have made many efforts to get up a team to come over and play an American-Eng- lish team. It has also made a little way in Holland. An Australian base ball team recently visited England to play several matches with the London and provincial teams. They traveled the country extensively, and were uniformly victorious, taking ‘back with them to Australia several beautiful cups which had been offered as prizes to the successful team. The Australian team had previously obtained much experience in the United States, and this was turned to good advantage when they met the Eng- lish players. A Promising Futare. The future of base ball in Great Britain is a most promising one. Both players and supporters are to all appearances united and well content with the progress which