Evening Star Newspaper, September 3, 1898, Page 23

BIRDS OF THE SEA Have Been Too Little Observed by Trained Naturalists, SSeS aes HABITS OF THE LORDLY ALBATROSS -- Mother Carey's Chickens Are Be- loved by All Sailors. wo BOOBIES BELIE THEIR NAME oe ee From the London Spectator. It is suzely a matter for congratulation that the sentiment of mankind toward what we are pleased to call the lower aal- mals is certainly, if slowly, tending in the direction of kinder end more merciful appreciation of them in nearly all their varietics as knowledge of them grows from more to more. As perhaps is but natural, this benevolent feeling is most strongly marked for birds, those feathered Zingari ef the air whose bilthe evolutions above are more eavied by man than any other power possessed by the vestly varied mem- bers of the animal kingdom. In obedience to the growing demand for more intimate knowledge of birds and their hablts whote libraries have been written, and still this literature increases; but while in this there ts nothing to cavil at, one cannot help feel- ing that the marvelous life of the sea birds has recetved far from adequate attention. Like so many other denizens of that vast and denscly populated world of waters, their inaccessibility has hindered that close observation by trained naturalists neces- sary in order to describe them’ as they de- serve, while as yet no marine Richard Jef- fe or White of Selborne has arisen. And this want is really to be wondered at, & secing how fascinating is the stud: of eceanie fauna, and remembering What a wealth of leisure ts 4 entey, masters whigh SE arora oppor- wihg the life of the sea- of sailing ship: tunities for ob: people. The Lordly Albatross. Easily first in point of interest, as well as size, comes the lordly albatross, whose home is far south of the line, and whose empire is that illimitable area of turbulent waves which sweep resistless round the world. Compared with his power of vision (sailors give all things except a ship the epicene gender “he”), the piercing gaze of the eagle or condor becomes myopic, unless, as indeed may be the case, he possesses other senses unknown to us by means of which he is made aware of passing events irteresting to him at incredible distances from them. Out of tke blue void he comes unhasting on motionless pinions, yet at such speed that, one moment a speck hard- ly di: turn but your eyes away, and uu can again look round he is sliding majestically overhead. Nothing in Pature conveys to the mind so wonderful ar. idea of effortless velocity as does his calm appearence from vacancy. Like most of the true pelagic birds, he is a devourer of offal, the successful pursuit of fish being to his majestic evolutions. Hi s, but his powers—or eregi;-Znd often for Other nourishment than a drink 9£¢%% bitter sea. At the Gar- ganty: @nquet provided by the carcass +b*%Gead whale, he will gorge himself until weapable of rising from the sea, yet still his angry scream may be heard as if pro- lity to find room provision against hungry days n to follew. Despite his incomparable f flight when gliding through mid- ith his mighty wings outspread, when ashore or or and ill 2 en seated upon the sea his pro- + somewhat ungainly, while k ns foo heavy to a abstinence are equall: day$ he goes wit e can hardly balance and the bread silky webs of hi on become lacerated. i s breeding places are as brief . since even conjugal delights are rchased with hunger and painful restrait. A true child of the air, land is hateful to him, and only on the wing does he appear to be really at home and ease- ful. Others of the Family. The other members of the albatross fam- ily, who, with their chief (Diomeda © ans), are all classed by whalers under the ugly name of “gocr.eys,” bear few of the maje: characteristics of their great head. The “mallymoke,” which” comes nearest to the albatross in size and beauty, is actually found north of the line, a fact which severs this bird very widely from the albatross in geographical range. Also S much liveller and more given to je fussily about. It costs him far less exertion to rise from the sea for flight than the unwieldy paddling run along the surface necessary to give sufficient impetus for raising the huge albatross, and conse- quently his alightings are much more fre- quent. But he js undoubtedly a beautiful bird, suffering only by comparison with the most splencid of all sea fowl A brown kind of albatross, with a dirty white beak, is very much in evidence south of 20 de- & continually into the 's wake, and diving to considerable depths after scraps. Sailors call them Cape h for some mis*y rea- -59n which is never given. Among southern birds they occupy much the same place in the esteem of those who are acquainted with them as does the sparrow at home. A general favorite among seamen Is the Cape pigeon, a pretty, busy little sea bird about the size of a dove, but plumper, with @ black head and an elaborate pattern in black, gray and white upon its open wings. Aroune stern of any passing ship large numbers of these fluttering visitors hover nuaily, their shrill cries and unweary- ng Mane*.vers contrasting pleasantly with the deep monotone made by the driving keel through the foaming sea. In common with most southern sea birds having hooked beaks, they are easily caught with hook and line, but wili not live in captiv- ity. Thoughiless passengers, wearled with what they often amuse themselves by shooting these ‘ul wanderers, although what eatis- faction may be found in reducing a beauti- ful living thing to a useless morsel of drag- gled carrion ts not easy te see. Occasion- ally a2 passing ship finds herself accom- panied for a very short time by large flocks of small dove-colored birds, which, ho’ ever, do not seem to care much for the as- sociation with vessels so characteristic of sea birds generally. These are known as whale-birds, probably because in the me- lee that gces on round the carcass of a Gead whale they are never seen. Indeed, they would stand but little chance of a meal a the hordes of larger and more cious feasters. Mention must also he of a peculiar and unprepossessing member of the petre! family, which looks wore like a disreputable albatross, but is somewhat searce. Known as the among whalem “stinker, sern Teprésentative of the arctle which is abundant in the north. -f pecullarity is his forwardness. sa whale give up the ghost = Nelly boldly alights upon the island-like mass and calmly com- mences to peck away at the firm blubber, while thousands upon thousands of other birds wat. impatiently around, not daring to do likewise. Hence the terrible threat current in whaleships, “I'll "ight on ye like a stinker on a carcass. Mother Carey's Chickens. At the bottom of the size scale, but in point of affecticnate interest second to hone, coms the stormy petrel, or Mother Carey’s chicken, a @arling wee wanderer common to both hemispheres, and beloved by all sailors. With its delicate glossy black and brown plumage just flecked with ‘white on the open wings, and its long slen- der legs reaching out first on one side and then on the other as if to feel the sea, it nestles under the very curl of the most mighty billws or skims the sides of their reverberating green abysses content as does the lerk over a lush meadow. How!- ing hurricane or searching snow blasts pass unheeded over that velvety black head. ‘The brave bright eye dims not, nor does the cheery I:ttle note falter, even if the tiny traveler must needs cuddle up close under the lee of some big ship for an occasional crumb. Only once have we known an in- dividual cruel or senseless enough to harm @ stormy petrel, and then the execrations of his shipmates fairly scared him into re- pentance, They seem to have solved the secret of perpetual motion, and often at night a careful listener may hear thelr low ery, even if he be not keen-sighted enough to see them flit beneath him, Near the Shores, But apart from these true oceanic no- mads are*the large class ot sea birds who, while gathering their food exclusively from the sea, never go to any great distance from lard. This difference between them and the birds before mentioned is 80 strongly marked that, unobservant as sail- ors 4 generally, there are few who do not nize the vicinity of land upon catching sight of a man-o'-war bird, booby, gannet or bo’sun. All these birds, whose trivial designations seem somehow more appropriate than the nine-jointed no- menclature of the schools, frequent for preference more accessible shores than the craggy pinnacles generally chosen by the bolder outfliers. Of the first named, the “man-o'-war" or “frigate” bird, very little can be said to his credit. Michelet has thapsodised about him in a curious effu- sion, of which one can only say he seems to have confused three distinct birds un- der one nead. Were this bird to receive an entirely appropriate title, it would be “pirate” or ‘‘buceaneer,” since it is only upon the rarest occasions that he conde- scends to fish for himself, choosing rather to rob humbler birds of their well-earned prey. No sea bird mounts so high as he, rising into the ciear blue until only a black speck to the unassisted eye. Usually, how- ever, he contents himself with a circling poise at an altitude of about 200 feet, whence he keeps steadfast watch upon all that transpires beneath. With his jong tail dividing and closing like the halves of a pair of shears, and the brilliant scarlet pouch at his neck occasionally inflated, he waits, waits, until some fussy booby, like an overladen housewife hurrying home from market, comes flapping along toward her nest. Then the broad pinions suddenly close, and down like lightning comes the marauder. With a wild shriek of terror booby disgorges her fish, but ere it reaches the Water out flash the black wings again, and with a grand sweep the assailant has passed beneath his frightered victim, caught the plunder, and soared skyward. In like manner these birds may sometimes be seen to catch a flying-fish on the ae a truly marvelous feat. It is, paver! el: a pathetic sight to see them, when old age or sickness overtakes them, sitting in lone- ly dignity among the rocks where they bregd, helplessly awaiting with glazing yes and drooping plumage the tardy com- ing of deliverance. Belies Its Name. As for the booby, whose contemptuous name is surely a libel, space is now far too brief to do anything like justice to its many virtues. In a number of ways it corresponds very closely with the manners of our domestic fowls, notably in its care of its brood, and utter change in its habits when the young ones are dependent upon it. Of stwpidity the only evidences really noticeable are its indifference to the ap- proach of generally dreaded dangers when it is drowsy. At night one may collect as many from their resting places as can be desired, for they make no effort to escape, but look at their enemy with a full, steady eye wherein there is no speculation what- ever. Numberiess instances might be col- lected where the tameness, as well as the abundance, of boobies have been the means of preserving human life after shipwreck, while their flesh and eggs are by no means unpalatable. — + 0 + THE EMPRESS TUEN. The Romantic rue History of Chi%a’s Real Ruler. From: The Boston Transcript. "The true story of the woman who is at the head of the Chinese empire, and who has just summoned Li Hung Chang back to power, is of extraordinary significance as well as interest. It has been told how, dis- appointed with ker son’s w2ak and charac- terless rule, she has again taken into her own hands, openly, the reins of power which she has held In truth for a genera- tion. This monarch, who is comparable to Catharine of Russia in her sagacity and skr2wdness and judicial wisdom, was once a slave. When she was a little girl she was sold by her father to be a slave in the fam- ily of a viceroy in a remote province of China. Her father was of Tartar blood, and one of those who could read, and would not hav thought of selling his child, al- though she was “nothing but a girl,” but as the family had become destitute in a rebel- lion the little girl of eleven suggested this means of getting bread for her mother and little brother and her father—the little brother whom long after she sought and made rich and powerful. Tuen served the vic2roy’s wife and moth- er-in-law, and was taught spinning and other useful arts by their maids. When she was twelve she smbroidered a beautiful tunic for the viceroy, and he was so de- lighted with it that he offered the little slave whatever she wished most. Thon Tuen fell on her knees and declared her heart's desire. She wanted to learn to rad like her father. It was a most extrdordi- nary request. The viceroy told her that girls could not learn such a thing, but Tuen told him she was not to blame that th3 gods had made her a girl, and she could not beip longing to know how to read. So her master had her taught, and, his own daughter dying after a time, she was adopt- ed as a daughter of the house and given beautiful clothes as well as lessons. Later the viceroy received some political honor from the Emperor of China, and, be- ing desirous to give him a beautiful and worthy present in token of acknowledg- ment, he followad the artless oriental cus- tem and sent Tuen to Pekin. The girl's feet had never been bound, of course, and she could walk upon them, and her mind was developed b2yond that of most Chinese wo- men. The favorite slave of the Emperor of China became the favorite wife, and when the empress consort died shs became Em- press of China. On the journey by river to Pekin, with servants sent with her by the viceroy, she had given a ring to a young lad who saved a man from drowning in the river. Sh2 had promised the ring to any one who would save the drowning man. The youth to whom she gave the ring had a bright, intelligent face; he was a sa'lor, in the coarse clothes of the lower class. That was Li Hung Chang. During her son’s minority Tuen was r2- gent, and now as empress dowager she again assumes command. The emperor is about twenty-four years old; the empress is sixty. ooo —_____ Beethoven’s Last Performa: From the Denver News, The pathetic story of the last time that Beethoven ever touched a pianoforte is not very widely known. He was traveling from Baden to Vienna in response to an urgent call from his favorite nephew, who was in trouble, and to save money was making the greater part of the journey on foot. A few leagues from Vienna he be- came exhausted, and was obliged to ask a night's shelter at a humble house near. The family received him kindly, gave him surper, and then invited him to a com- fortable seat near the fire. Then the head of the house épened a small piano, and the sons each brought an old musical instru- ment and all began to play. For twenty-five years Beethoven had been deaf. and the music was unheard by him, but he could see its deep effect. Wife and daughter laid their needles down and Ilsten- ed with tears stealing down their cheeks, while the musicians played, with moist eyes dimming the notes. Beethoven watch- ed their emotions enviously, and when the players ceased asked to ste the music that had moved them so. The pianfst handed to him “The Allegretto in Beethoven's Sym- phony in A." He flushed with happiness. “I am Beethoven! Come and let us finish it" Going himself to the plano he played the remainder of the evening, following the concerted music with heavenly impro- visions. Far into the night he played while the others listened enraptured. When he went to bed his veins seemed full of fever. He could not sleep, and final- ly stole outdoors for fresh air, remaining until he was thoroughly chilled. In the morning he was too {ll to proceed on his journey, and his anxious hosts sent for a physician and summoned his friends in Vienna. Hummei was almost the only one to come, and he stood inconsolable beside the master's bed as he lay there. Beethoven moved and caught. Hummel’s hand in both of his own. “Ah, Hummel, I must have had some talent!” he said, faintly, They were his last word: ———— Ivory Veneers, From the Scientific American. Veneer cutting has reached such perfec- tion that a single elephant’s tusk thirty inches long is now cut in London into a sheet of ivory 150 inches long and twenty inckes wide, and some sheets of rosewood and mahogany are only about a fiftieth of an inch thick. _— THE EVENING STAR, A DAY WITH THE POPE How the World's Greatest Religious Monarch Spends His Time, Divided Up as Regularly as the Dial of a Clock—His Frugal Habits. | ope From the London Mail, Of all Christian churches that of Rome is the greatest, and over its 230,000,000 mem- bers the pope reigns supreme. He is the sreatest religious power in the world, and at the present time, when his health is giv- ing such anxiety, some account of his daily life cannot fail to be interesting. As the great clock of St. Peter's strikes seven fhe pope's valet enters his bed room, a large square apartment, simply furnish- ed. Throwing open the windows Centra wishes hig holiness good morning and pro- ceeds to assist his venerable master to dress. His toilet completed, the Pope per- forms his morning devotions and proceeds to the next room, which is fitted up as an cratory, where he celebrates mass. Occa- sionally highly privileged persons are per- mitted to be present at this service, which lasts about forty-five minutes. A’ second mass is afterward celebrated by one af the household prelates, at which all the in- habitants of the Vatican, including the pope, are present. His holiness then break- fasts in his study, the meal consisting of a cup of strong soup and a few chocolate pastilles. The pope then goes into the lbrary, where he gives an audience to specialty fa- vored pilgrims. It is in these interviews that the marvelous memory and learning of the gs are best shown. German, Kn- lish neh, Spanish and Italian—his na- five language—he speaks with fluency. His oljness addresses each pilgrim in his own language, discussing with them the leading topics of their respective countries. Leo reads many newspapers, and is fully ac- quainted with the world and all its doings. His visitors gone, the pope commences his day's work. His first task is to revise and alter the work of the previous day, for he is a most painstaking and fastidious scholar. While engaged in these literary labors he refreshes himself with an occa- Slonal pinch of snuff, At 10 a.m. the secretary of state, Cardinal Rampolla, enters, and with him the pope goes through the political corre- spondence of the day. The pope’s annual income has been esti- mated at £520,000, and about £290,000 of this goes in maintaining the Rousehold of the Vatiean. Though by no means a miser, Leo is very careful; his valet keeps all his keys, with the exception of the key of the strong box, which the pope himself retains. His holiness gives away large sums in charity every year. . At noor. the pope dines; the meal consists of an omelette, a roll of bread and a little cheese, washed down by a single glass of red wine. ‘ The pope then takes hjg o*Stitutional in one of the numerous Falls of the Vatican, after whi “se is carried in a sort of sedan »y two stalwart lackeys into the gar- “aen and placed in his carriage. He is driven down the avenues, accom- penied by an officer of his guard and two gendarmes. At the Cascata dell’ Aquila the pope alights, ard, leaning on a stick, strolls up and down the terrace. Here is a fine vineyard, wiich is one of the pope's hobbies, and a p:ofitable hobby it is, seeing that it yields an annval harvest of 1,500 gallons of wine. The pope amuses himself with catching small birds with nets, a sport in which he was an expert when a lad, and of which he is still very fond. The cultivation of tea- rcses is another hobby of his holiness. Near this place, the pope’s playground, stands the huge tower of the Citta Leonia, a building which dates back to the eighth century. As evening approaches the pope proceeds to this tower alone, and until sun- set he remains in its solitary dungeon. What he does there nobody knows. It has been suggested that he indulges in a nap, or that he arranges his future plans; at all events, much of his literary work is done in this large, empty rocm. As the sun goes down ihe pope returns to his apart- ments, and, after telling his rosary, sets to werk, and does not retire to rest until mid- night. When seeking an inspiration he walks to his study window, and, drawing aside the curtains, gazes long and silently at the brilliant sky of an Italian night. At 12 o'clock his holiness goes to bed, to wake up at 7 o'clock to live the same day over again. The pope is in his eighty-ninth year, and despite his great age he is a marvel of phys- ical and intellectual vigor. Since his elec- tion to the chair of St. Peter his death has been foretold scores of times, and tha remors of his ill-health have filled number- less newspaper columns. But Leo XIII has proved the truth of the adage, “Threatened men live long,”’ and though old age has be- gun to tell upon him there is every pros- pect that the pope will give the He to fu- ture rumors by refusing to die for some years. He ts one of the cleverest scholars and statesmen of the age, while his piety is great, ang he is austere to the verge of asceticism. Such is the daily life of the man who is regarded as. their spiritual and temporal ruler, and as infallible in oll things, by mors than one-haif of all the Christians upon tht face of the globe. $$ Doctoring the Chinese. Trom the St. James’ Gazette, Medical science in China is not as ad- vanced as it was in Rome 2,000 years ago. The so-called doctors cannot tie an artery, open an abscess or reduce a dislocated mb. Every Chinaman has got something real or imaginary the matter with him, and there was great curiosity to see the methods of the foreigner; therefore, when Dr. Wenyon arrived there was no lack of patients. They came dally by the hun- dred from far and near—from an area three or four times that of England. In seven- teen years they numberea many thousands, and vee of them, as Dr. Wenyon says, be- came the center of i less favorable to western thease aer western m.n. Dr. Wenyon has many curl- ous stories to tell in connection with the Open one. Staff of native “doctors” was found. ant the building was called “The Hall of Ten Thousand Virtues.” It Was a splendid building, but somehow that did not assist the cures. Two afflicted friends came to Fatshan, and they decided one to gO to Dr. Wenyon’s hospital and the other to the rival place. In three weeks Dr. Wenyon’s patient was well, and on going for his friend to the other hospital,. found that he was dead. The doctor tried to console him by saying that they had buried him in a splendid coffin. “In fact, coffins were @ steat necessity at that hospital,” says Dr. Wenyon. ‘When I went there T found that they had laid in a good stock, So the people came to us. Tt was a question of coming to our hospital for a cure, or going to the ‘Hall of Pen Thousand Vir- tues’ for a coffin. One day there came a stately gentleman, a learned man belonging to the upper classes, having a painful dis- order needing surgical treatment. He hired a private room, and I oporated on him, and in a fortnight he was well. He had not told me who he was, but before he went away he said, ‘You might like to know who I am, and I want to tell you, because I am so grateful for being cured of this ter- rible disease. I am the ‘head ‘Hall of Ten Thousand Virtue: —_-+ How Wales “Spliced the Main Brace.” From Harper's Magazine. The prince's intimacy with the navy is to be discerned in the genera} signal made by Admiral Sir Nowell Salmon, V. C., at the close of the memorable review at Spithead, “I am commanded hy the Prince of Wales,” he wrote, ‘as representing the queen, to ex- Press his entire satisfaction with the mag- nificent naval display at Spithead, and the perfect manner in which all the arrange- ments were carried out; and, at his request, I order the main brace to be spliced.” It need scarcely be explained that to “splice the main brace” is an order to serve out a glass of greg ali round. Intemperate ab- stainers were ‘eadfully shocked at the idea of the Prince of Wales encouraging the consumption of intoxicating liquor, but the 38,577 officers and men who had been on duty all day long honestly feit that by six bells (11 welcol SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 1898-24 PAGES. - RANDOM VERSE, Mii ws Clifton Bingham in Chambers’Journal, Sweet rose, awakigg to the Tinto this'fair wold boge SS A little folded At night, ‘A flower at break of morn! tny tear ot dew hy heart dost Yet thou « Within ti ; ‘Though earth is glad! and lite ts new, And thou art sweet and fair! 2 hy heart and shed "Thy pertume wider yee ‘Though soon the s1 21 irs are fled, Thy fate, sweet forget! With fragrance all fhe garden fill, That those who me and see Shall deem the bright world brighter still Because of it and, thee? Sweet rose, God mie thee fair to take ‘Thy tiny’ place aGd pabt, To soothe some spirit like’ to break, ‘Fo cheer some burdenod heart, Weep not for augh€ that fate may send, But, ere thy day is spent, Live Out thy life ungo tts end, ‘Then dic and sleep content! —+ 00 Waiting. Paul Laurence Dunbar in the Cosmopolitan, The sun has slipped his tether a, jalloped down the abn k , It's wears, Weury waiting, love, Wye alette bind Is jus 2 sleeping In the softness of its nest. Night follows day, day follows daywn— And so the time has come and gone: And it’s weary, Weary walting, love. The cruel wind is rising With a whistle and a wall. ‘And it'a weary, weary waiting, love.) cree are seaward straining ‘ur the coming of a sail: But vold the sea, and void the beach Par and beyond where gaze can teach! And {t's weary, weary waiting, love, I beard the bell-buoy ringing— How long ago it seems! (Oh, it's weary, wenry waiting, love.) And ever still, its knelling hes in upon my dreams. banns were read, my frock was se Since then two seasons’ winds have blow And {t's weary, weary waiting, love. ‘The stretches of the ocean bare and bleak today. (Oh, it's weary, weary walting, love.) exes are growing dimmer— it tears or age, or spray? But [ will stay th you come home. * Styange ships come in across the foam} And it's weary, wi waiting, love. Away. I cannot sey, and T will not say ‘That be is dead—he is Just away! With s cheery smile, aud a wave of the hand, He has wandered info an unknown land, And left us dreaming how'very fair It neefis must be, atuce he lingers there. And you—O you, who the wildest For the old-time step and the gla ‘Think of him faring on, as dear In the love of There as the love of Here; And loyal still, Of bis warrio1 earn return— he gave the blows trength to his country’s £%y— Mild and gentle, as he #95 Trave— When the sweetsst 44¥e of his lite be gave Be #Ziple things:—Where the violets grew wiue as the eyes they were likened to, ‘The toaches of bis hands have strayed As reverently as his lips have prayed: When the little brown thrush that harshly chirred Was dear to him as the mocking-bird; And he pitied as much as a man in pain A writhing honey-bee wet with rain— Think of him still as the same, I say: He is not dead—he-is just away! —JAMES: WHITCOMB RILEY, a The Price We Pay. From the Boston Herald, es, he was the onl ‘one-killed— Not a baitle, of cobese, with only one dead— But that one was uy alle? And the pages were blared as I read, “Killed at the front,:Tom! Burton;”* One man, “not much of-a joss,"” it sald, But ‘twas ull that I bad, And more than they knesr cae Yhen they buried my hape with my dea In his blood-stained battle shroud. Died that his countyy might live, That a people oppressedgnight be free. It made him a hero, you say; Perhaps, but he was always @ hero to me, For I knew him and goved him, Dead, dead now st she:frent, And ke was only audadwe: Only one life fora Mctory, But that life was ajl that [ had. ay Old_Fing. Hubbard. Parker'in thé Ghictgo Journal, What shall [say totyeu, Old Flug? Xou are so grand iy.every fold, So linked with mighty, deeds. of’ old, So steeped in Dlood where heroes fell, So torn and pleteed by shot and shell; So calm, s0 still, so-firmy, ‘80 true, My throat swells at the sight of Jou. Soave id” Flag. What of the men who lifted four Old Flag, Upon the top of Bunker's: Hill, Who crushed the Briton‘s evuel will, ‘Mid shock and rear and crash and scream, Who crossed the Delaware's frozen stream, Who starved, who fought, who bled, who died, ‘That you might float in giorious pride, Old Flag? What of the women brave and true, Old Flag, Who, while the cannon thundered ‘wild, Sent forth « husband, love Who labored in the fleid by’ day, Who, all the night Jong, knelt to pray, And thonght that God great mercy gave, If only freely you might wave, Old Flag? What is your mission now, Old Flag? What but to set all people free, To rid the world of misery, To guard the right And gather in one, joy: Beneath your folds in close embra All burdened ones of every, race, Old Pag? Right notily do you lead the way, Old Flag, Your stars shine out for liberty, our white stripes stand for purity, Your crimson claims that courage For, Henor's sake to fight and die. igh, Lead on against the alten shore! We'll follow you e’en to Death's door, Old Fiagt +2 —_____ When I Played Golf. From Life. When I played golf I learned to eat Some things I dared not eat before, learned another tongue complete, T learned to He ‘about my score. When I played golf 1 learned to firt— AB opportunity most rare— And as I cumeoed the dirt, T picturesquely learned to swear. When I played golt I learned to steal The balls the other players lost. I learned to spend my all and feel ‘Twas wrong to-stop and count tbe cost. When I played golf my great concern Was this:—I say it to my shame— ‘The only titng I did not learn . Was how to play the cussed game, es Grief and God. Stephen Phillips in Cornhill Magazine. Unshunnable ts grief; we sbculd not fear The dreadful bath whoee cleansing 18 0 clear; For He who to the Spring such polson gave, ‘rom the hopeless grave; Who circled us with pale aspiring foam, With exiled Music yearning for her home, With knockings early and with cryings Iste, The moving of deep waters against Fate; Who starred the skies with yearning, with those ‘That dart through dew fheir/infinite desires; Or largely silent and swiviesful bright Direct a single look of, reall night; Who gave unto the nop hopeless quest, Condemned the wind to wenliér-without rest; He, as I think, intends@hafOwe shall rise Oniy. through pain Into His Paradise. , Wee! woe! to those whorplatidiy suspire, Drowned in security, remote from fe Who under the dim sky and: yhisper'ing trees By peaceful slopes and Dassitg streams have ease; Whose mevit is their u fited sins, Whose thought 1s Lelnollé, bu they shun the gi “And these Oerflowing pits: that-take-the strong, . ‘The baited sweetness aga’ thy boueyed wrong; Who sink, net once eneeaigk, to the tomb, Bternal siwilers from t) her's womb, No sacred distu secular life, Eluding splendor and exéa dic ot, for they Bhelx bodies urge the ‘Unstung, unfired, unte: ‘extinction is t it co tf In it anguish di wim, again; Or elae into Fils burnt aretthey ‘ea, Desirous of His glory tf te tend, Wher He like Semele they die, Proud to be shrive! His ecstacy: Or th pight of life p and'flow rough the night of lite impe: ST. THOMAS’ COAL WOMEN They Do the Work of Carrying Coal to the Ships. Balance Heavy Loads Upon Their Heads—Naturaily They Are a Stardy Lot. From Harper's Bazar. When cable communication between the United States and Cuba was cut off as a result of the active operations of our army and navy against the Spanish colonies in the Caribbean sea, the telegraph stations among the neighboring islands took on an importance which they had not hitherto en- joyed. The principal places which soon be- came familiar to us as news centers were Kingston, Jamaica, Cape Haitien, Haiti, and St. Thomas in the Danish West Indies. St. ‘Thomas, having a good landiocked harbor, also became prominent as a coaling Station for press boats and dispatch vessels and as the headquarters of some twenty-five news- paper correspondents, who made it their base for gathering and disseminating the news of the progress of the war. The town of St. Thomas, sometimes called Charlotte Amalie, is one of those delightful spots built on a hillside, surrounded by tropic vegetation, facing the sea, and blessed with a climate that varies little the year around, the temperature rarely falling below 70 degrees or rising above 90 degrees. Al- though a Danish possession, the language of commerce and society—such society as there -is—is English, The majority of the population, however, is made up of negroes and mulattoes, who speak a dialect con- sisting of a mixture of broken Dutch, Dan- ish, English, French and Spanish. These negroes are the descendants of the slaves who were imported about 1680 to cultivate the plantations of the Danish West India and Guinea Company, and they are mostly fine specimens of the black race. The wo- men, in particular, are strong and well de- veloped, and by reason of their strength and endurance have made themselves an important factor in the commercial! devel- opment of the island. It is said that ves- sels may coal more cheaply at St. Thomas than at any port in the West Indies, and doubtless that is true, for there 1s seldom a day when some steamer is not cvaling at the wharves, and the ships of all the navies have made this island their principal coal- ing station for years. Perhaps this sols women laborers, for they are #*fost ex. clusively used in transfergin=‘the coal from the sheds to ths ber cers. They do the work better ex quicker than men, and are alwgye Theerful at their labor. Hundreds 1% women are employed in the work of supplying one ship, and thus a continuous line of these sinewy carriers may be seen striding up the gang plank, balancing their loaded baskets on their heads, while an- other stream, unladen, pours over the ship's side on to the wharf. These St. Thomas coal carriers use large baskets for their work. They carry these on their heads, and so skillfully balanced that no accident ever eccurs, even on the steepest or slipperiest of gang planks. So expert are these women that they can thus carry a load of from 150 to 250 pounds of ccal. While at work they usually sing some peculiar and monotonous negro melody, and when the loading is being done at night, by the light of flaring torches stuck in the ground near the coal heaps, these long, crooning processions of erect black women form a picture that is weird and im- Pressive. These women are trained to the work of carrying loads on their heads from baby- hood almost. When they are not older, than five years they are taught to carry smail loads on their heads, and thus they become familiar with the science of perfect balance—for it must be a science. At nine or ten the girls are able to carry heavier loads in larger baskets, say from twenty to thirty pounds, and they become pro- ficient in the work by walking many miles all over the island carrying fruit and merchandise for sale. Thus at sixteen the negro girl is tall and robust—lithe, vigor- ous, tough, all tendon and hard flesh. She can now carry a burden of from 100 to 150 pounds, and becomes useful in the empioy of the coal companies. While at work these women wear no shoes, and dress in the very lightest and oldest portions of their scant wardrobes. So light and abbreviated are their costumes that thefr muscular forms are displayed to advantage, and as they work they form magnificent pictures of human development and strength. They are neither slow nor lazy, these negro women. They waik at a rapid, springy gait over the rough wharves and coal paths, with a swinging, easy, graceful motion of the limbs, and absolute equipoise of the head and shoulders. ——— e+ _______ A NEW POMPELL. Discovered by Excavators on the Site of Ancient Priene. Brom the Literary Digest. This title is perhaps an 2xaggeration, but it is certain that if the published reports are true, the German archaeologists who are excavating on the site of ancient Priene have made a discovery of the highest in- terest. It is well known that Priene is in Asia Minor, and that the modern city of Samsoun occupies {ts ancient site. Several years ago an English expedition unearthed and studied tha temple of Minerva, the chief sanctuary of the city, built by order of Alexander; but its ruins, although in- teresting, were abandoned, and they have since been despoiled by the inhabitants of the naighborhood. In 1895 the Germans re- sumed the exploration of the region in be- half of the Berlin Museum, at the expenso of the Prussian government and under the direction of a young architect, Wilhelm Wilberg. The work of excavation is al- ready sufficiently advanced to enable us to judge of its rare importance; a whole city is being unearthed, in almost as good pres- ervation as Pompeii. And this is the more important because up to the present no similar discovery has ever been made that gives precise indications of the general ar- rang>ment of a Greek city, of its public monuments, or its individual dwellings. The city thus exhumed is assuredly of the Deriod of greatest Greek beauty; the streets cross at right angles and ar2 laid out with the greatest regularity, and we can identify colonades, theaters, market places, shops and houses with their decorations and in- terior arrangement. South of the templs of Minerva has been found the agora, sur- round2d with great colonnades, while open- ing on one of its corners {s a sma!l square edifice somewhat r2sembling a theater and constituting perhaps the place of meeting of the city council. It Js in admirable preservation, and sixteen rows of seats can be seen still in place. Worthy of nots is a vault in on3 of the walls—a thing extraor- dinarily rare in Greek architecture. We should add, in closing, that among the structures that have been =ntirely exhumed is a theater whose sc2ne ‘s intact, which will doubtlass solve some of the problems connected this special part of the Greek theaters. Se ‘WEATHER MEN IN 1747. How Franklin and Jefferson Co-Op- perated in Taking Observations. From the Forum. About 100 years after the invention of the barometzr, viz., in 1774, Benjamin Franklin, patriot, statesman, diplomat and scientist, divined that certain storms had a rotary motion and that they progressed in a northzasterly direction. It was prophetic that these ideas should have come to him long before any one had ever seen charts showing observations simultaneously taken at many stations. But, although his ideas in this respect wer> more important than His act of drawing the lightning from the clouds and identifying it with the elec- tricity of the laboratory, yet his contem- Poraries thought little of his philosophy of storms; and it was soon f ten. It will be interesting to learn how h» reached his conclusion as to the cyclonic or eddylike structure of Sores of cheapness is due to the employme; art surprise of Franklin, when, after the slow Passage of the mail by coach, he heard from his friznd in Boston that the night of the eclipse had been clear and favorable for observations, but thst a terrific north- east wind and rain storm began early the following morning. He then sent out in- quiries to surrounding stage stations, and found thet at all places southwest of Phil- adelphia the storm had begun earlier, and that the greater the distance the earlier the beginning, as compared with its advent in Philedelphia. Northeast of Philadelphia the time of the beginning of the storm had been later than at that city, the storm net reaching Boston until twelve hours after its commencement at Philadelphia, In considering thase facts a line of in- ductive reasoning brought Franklin to the conclusion that the wind always blows to- ward the center of the storm; that the northeast hurricane which Boston and Phil- adelphia had experienced was caused by the suction =xercised by an advancing storm eddy from the southwest, which drew the air rapidly from Boston toward Philadelphia, while the source of the at- traction—the center of the storm eddy—was yet a thousand miles to the southwest of the latter place; that the velocity of the nertheast wind increased as the center of the siorm eddy advanced nearar and nearer from the southwest, until the wind reached the conditions of a hurricane; that the wind between Boston and Philadelphia shifted and came from th» southwest after the center of the storm eddy had passed over this region, and that the force of the wind gradually decreased as the center of attraction paased farther and farther away to the northeast. Another man whose name is dear to the heart of every pstriotic Am»rican conduct- ed, in conjunction with his friend, James Madison (afterward bishop), a series of weather observations, which were begun in 1471 and continued during the stirring times of tha revolution. This was the sage of Monticello, Thomas Jefferson. Madison was near the sea, at the colonial capital, Williamsburg, Va.; Jefferson was at Mon- ticello, 120 miles west. ‘They took simul- taneous observations for several y2ars, un- til the British ransacked Madison's house and carried off his barometer. Had the telegraph been In existence Jef- ferson and Madison would doubtless have conceived the idea of a national weather servic. ————+ e+ —____ MODERN WARS ARE SHORT. Nations Have Lost the Habit of Fight- tug on to Gratify Pride. From the Review of Reviews. The war between Spain and the United States was ended ist 12, having run nh four months. All re- 1 Sek wafs in which important members of ie world's family of nations have been pitted. against eech other have been of a short and decisive character. Last year’s war between Turkey and Grgece began April 17 and was terminated by a truce preliminary to a final peace treaty at the end of four and a half weeks. The Grecks had thought that their superior navy and the esprit de corps of their people would offset the great superiority of the Turkith army. But the Greek fleet accomplished hext to nothing, and the invasion of the Turkish army was irresistible. The war between Japan and China showed the great superiority of the Jaranese both on sea and on land, with the result that a war which began on July 25, 1894, was ended by the utter defeat of China after eight montns. The great war of Russia against | Turkey, which began April 24, 1877, came j to an end with the Russian army lying just outside of Constantincple nine months later. The Franco Pressian war, which be- gan July 23, 1870, found the Prussians mak- ing peace at Versailles on January 28, 1871. Bismarck’s war of 1866, in which Prussia made an attack against Austria, lasted only seven weeks. Civil wars and insurrec- tions have a tendency to drag on for a longer time; but all the cireumstances and conditions of moéern life are favorable to brevity and positive conclusions in wars between distinct naticns. Nineteenth cea- tury life is practical, and nations have lost the habit of fighting on and on mercly to gratify a false serse of pride or out of con- siderations of hatred and revenge. The cumulative force of precedent has helped to make it the established rule of modern statesmanship to seek peace with a public adversary on the best terms possible at the earliest moment when it is clearly appar- ent that the fortunes of war can have no favorable turn. To fight on when there is no hope of victory is to commit national suicide. Modern public opinion—at least in all countries having parliamentary institu- tions—acts forcibly and sensibly upon ques- tions of this sort. It is not that patriotism is a@ waning motive in the hearts of men, but that other motives have come to play @ greater part than in former generations. ——_—_~. WHEN PLANTS SLEEP. They Have Various Hours, but Au * Take a Rest. From the Gentleman's Magazine. The mimosa goes to sleep when night coreces on, or even a dark cloud passing over the sun will cause its leaves to fold up and the stalk to sink down, and in fact the whole plant goes to sleep. In going to sleep the mimosa is not, however, at all singular, Many species vf plants closing their leaves and flovers at night. On the other hand, there are some which, like the beasts of the forest, hall the setting sun as a signal for activity. This sleep of plants, which is the seme physiologically as animal sleep, does not exist without reason. The art of sleeping is, in the higher animals, sympto- matic of repose in the brain and nervous system, and the fact of plants sleeping is one proof of the existence of a nervous sys- tem in the members of the vegetable king- dom. Plants sleep at various hours and not al- ways at night. The duration of plant sleep varies from ten to eighteen hours. Light and heat have little to do with plants sleep- ing, as different species go to sieep at dif- ferent hours of the day. Thus the common morning glory opens at dawn, the Star of Bethlehem about 10 o'clock, the ice plant at noon. The goat’s beard, which opens at surrise, closes at midday, and for this rea- son is called “‘Go-to-bed-at-noon.” The flowers of the evening primrose and of the thcrn apple open at sunset, and those of the night-flowering cereus when it is da-k. Aquatic flowers open and ckse with the greatest regularity. The white water lily closes its flowers at sunset and sinks below the water for the night; in the morning the petals again expand and float on the surface. The Victoria Regia expands for the first tims about 6 o’ciock in the even- ing, and closes in a few hours; it opens again at 6 o'clock the next morning, and remains so till afternoon, when it closes and sinks below the water. For upward of 2,000 years continuous at- esa aren noes = to elucidate the phenomena. leep without success; many theories have been promulgated, but they have fallen short of explaining it. We knew that sleep rests the mind more than the , oF, to put it in another way, the ™mere physical, as apart from the nervous portion of the organism, can be rested without sleep. Negatively the effect of sleeplessness proves the value and _neces- sity of sleep. And this is segn in a marked. manner in the case of plants. —_——o-—____ A Summer Evening in Morocco. From the Saturday Review. From the little mosque of the village arises the watchword of Islam, and with long-sustained musical notes the “mued- din” calls the faithful to prayer. In the gathering gloom one sees the Arabs con- gregating at the mosque, and a minute later the monotonous buzz of their prayers is heard. Then for a moment the sky is illumined, and the strange after-glow, a ganzy mist gt golden film, enwraps the whole scene. ‘The plain becomes crimson once again, and the heavens are ablaze with shafts of light. Black and gloomy against the glowing sky stands the outline of the stone vill; and its gardens. The owl ceases her "Bready ‘commence hoot, hoot, and silence reigns. It is but for a few moments, and then night falls so swiftly, so surely, that it seems as nee = =n were — over cal cease their lowing herds ther the scene, 5 He i z i 23 ‘POOR OLD PORTUGAL Spain’s Hapless Sister is in Dire Straits Just Now. |e ADVERTISING NATIONAL DECADENCE —— + -—- Both Land and People Are in- Need of Tilling. GOVERNMENT 1S ROTTEN From the Pall Mall Gazette. { Portugal excites compassion. She is #0 bright and happy a land, if you go to her with no intention of seeing more of her than Mr. Murray’s handbook bids #ou see. But tarry awhile in either of her prencipal cities, read her newspapers, watch the shrugs which the men at the casas de cam- bio change your sovereigns into reis at an ever-increasing agio, listen to the gossip at her clubs and cafes, and mark the ex- traordinary number of special Vasco da Gama postage stamps in the Lisbon shop windows. Then you must realize that though the average Portuguese has no love for the average Spaniard, Portugal may be excused for feeling a sort of pitiable and intimate sympathy for her step-sister Spain in this poor mantitla-clad lady's present humiliations and difficulties. To begin with, the Vasco da Gama busi- ness seems to some of us an incredibly foolish sort of advertisement of national decadence. Portugal somehow has missed that melancholy joke. The rest of Europe sent deputations to congratulate her on— goodness knows what, and to enjoy the banquets and other festivities provided. And Portugal herself is now strugeling Wis might and main to defray these ex- penses by the sale of pretty commemora- live postage stamps. In Honor of Vasco da Gama. There is rather a neat Ittle “free fair” in Lasbon, also in honor of the centenary, modeled distantiy on our Earl's Court ex- hibitions. The cardboard fifteenth century castle and Indian elephants of colossal size are successful enough, and it does one good to see the trim warehouses of Portu-, guese manufacturers here view prove how pri us the country ht to be. But enthusiasm ts abéent at this show, to see which you pay ooking. exqifsite biankeis and rugs, the and the seductive biscuits, sugared plain, appear to interest no one. There are peepshows, waxworks, Edison's inventions, Nautch girls, cheap theatrical perform- ances of the “gaff” kind, and dozens of re- fined-looking drinking tents. Pgrtugal, however, pays littie heed to any of them. Such money as it has to spend it plunges on the humble tee-to-tums. It is profownd- ly instructive to see the people—old men and maidens, young men and even children —crowding for these penny and twopenny gambles, also in honor of the white-beard- ed Vasco da Gama. Public cock fights are an added feature of this free fair. Lisbon was not at first at all sure about the pro- priety of th entertainments, but the press has convinced it. They have “great moral and material advantages,” one scribe informed the public. As a spectacle they stimulate to courage, and also distract the mind from refiecting upon the misery of life. The writer was serious, too. Yet we all know that Portugal can breed brave men without the ald of fighting bantams, and no country in Europe is more beauti- ful in landscape and more balmy in its climate. A Rotten Government. The other evening, while I was admiring the gas-outlined caravel of Da Gama on the front of Oporto’s town hall, I heard e fur- tive whisper of “Beef! Beef!” It came from a youth in a high collar, who prom- enaded arm-in-arm with his chums on tho waving pavemert of the praca. It was meant to be an insult. But there was noth- ing more of it than that, and the lad look- ed elsewhere when he caught my eye. I am told that the occurrence is not new. It is not that Portugal has any particular rea- son for hating us, but she cannot help hav- ing quick fits of jealousy when she realizes how rich we are and how poor she is, and how we become twice as rich even as we are when we bring our pounds sterling into Portugal and receive more than §,00) reis apiece for them, instead of the par value of 4,500 reis. : The government is, of course, rotten. It has been so almost from time immemorial. To a northerner it is mysterious how four million people who are not cowards (in spite of the cock-fight lover's innuendo) can submit eternally to be robbed and harassed. But the southern temperament hes to be considered. Further, more than two-thirds of the Portuguese are illiterate. The bulk of the population are agriculturists, who have no time to spare for sedition; they, must be in the fields from sunrise to suns set every working day if they are to pay their taxes and live. And, chief thing of all, and a fact much lamented openly in Oporto, where they alr their thoughts with extreme freedom, there is not a man in Portugal willing, and therefore able, to head a revolution. Otherwise— The People in Power. And yet no one has a bad word for tho King, or aught but a good one for the queen. As a constitutional monarch, Dom’ Pedro has fair excuse for not interfering with his precious cabinet, who are supposed to represent the nation. The ydo not reps resent it, but they have made a fine study, of the art of retaining the power they have so long misused. It has been said recently, that “only a cynical and immoral country, Would continue in such a state of torpid- ity.” But the chur=yes fill in Portugal, nor, is cynicism usually the offspring of illiter- acy. And to the stranger it seems that Portugal treats him with an honesty reach- ing to the verge of simplicity. At Bussaco there is a famous convent in the woods. Wellington made it his head- quarters when he had his eye on Massena before the battle. Until a short time ago it was state property, and for its superb architecture it deserves always to be under’ state protection. But for want of money, the state allowed it to pass into the hands of some hotel proprietors. At the present’ moment the stone masons are dressing its majestic exterior and its interior is betag cut up into bed rooms with views from the windows of extraordinary beauty. It is to be a “grang hotel,” of course—the notice boards say so. Yet no one believes it wilt ever come to maturity and be haunted by. swallow-tailed polyglot waiters. The hotel promoters, like the government, find them- selves short of money. Four Pence a Day. In the local factories wemen work all day for four pence of Portuguese currency,’ which you or I could buy for a trifie more’ than two pence, and the Briton at large in’ the oot oy pay open — two shil-! ings and six pence a day to jodged and, well fed at high-class hotels. It is only, in Lisbon and Oporto that the shopkeepe: sepm able to cope with this problem of ra ig and even here few of them have. dai to raise their prices except on ém-' ported —— At. different shops charge differently for the Tauchnitz vol- umes. But, with very few exceptions, the land keep their old