Evening Star Newspaper, September 17, 1898, Page 16

Copyright, 1898 by The sheriff of $ Arizona, He to his but it of his He was s he age. minute time a his per every in THE MIRACLE OF LAVA. CANYON, 5 0 WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING :TAR BY W. 8. PORTER. -f? | courageous He r moral His ear mean- the of riminals to combat uch re- outlaw law CUT YOUR HEART OUT, THE EVENING STAR, arances. The little that dashed down the st the flesh into f mountain brook ep rocks puried in ent out diamond the redwood trees zh there was no s and degraded thing as Arizona Dan s vhere below, trying to conceal bis desecrating presence. The lit- eeds Were at school, and such noises as might have been heard by that legend- ary and overworked creature, the casual observ e sylvan and well attuned. A critic in sight harmony would also have for little to cavil at, un = his too fine- ar perceptions had deemed the aspect of Miss Hoadicea Reed, who sat negligently in a grapevine swing, too unsylph-like for t accord M Boadicea—called “Dicey” by her im- meciate fami 1 friends, a diminutive evolved from original and arbitrary prenu 2 of her name—sounded a note ve been a dissonance, but it wer of accentuating the soft wood. As she half reclined vine, her freshly starched ackled about a form whose the giant » muslin c! of sunlight dived | like you, miss, wouldn't give the word on a man, now, I bet a hos: Arizona Dan's lumbering attempt at com- plinent produced no effect. Boadicea re garded him with unswerving, dis- approving eye You dont want to be loafing these diggings,” she said, substituting the local form of parlance for her ordinarily more elevated style of conversation, as be- ing more worthy of her audience. “You are not afraid, are you?” with Intinite disdain. “I ain't afraid,” said Arizona Dan, shift- ing his feet uneasily, “except of being took. I can't fight the whole town.” s any one after you?" “If they ain't, they will be. rad’s in town, and—” Arizona Dan broke off, with an oath, and looked down the steep pathway. “Here he comes now,” he muttered. Boadicea rose to her feet and peered over the tops of the intervening bushes. The sheriff, unarmed, in a ght summer suit, that set off to advantage his strong, grace- ful figure, was coming up the path with the sun striking golden lights from his head of curly blonde hair. Bodicea looked upon him and loved. When in ten paces of his man the sheriff took off his hat and wiped his brow with a silk handkerchief. Dan,” he said, in an even tone, “E want you.” Arizona Dan drew a nine-inch bowie knife the leg of his boot. “Come and get he said, with a grin and a suggestive upward movement of his right hand. The old, well-known, nauseating, deathly, cowardly physical fear came upon the sher- iff as he saw the shining blade held by the huge desperado he had come unarmed to capture. His pride and the wonderful mor- al puissance that ground out courageous deeds from heart-sinking apprehensions urged him forward another step. Arizona Dan laughed a iow, hatf-sober, but chilling, laugh. So quiet it was that’ the voice of the brook sounded in the sheriff's ears like the derisive mockery of men at his pol- troonry. For one instant Rade in the balance. An all around Rad Con- iff Conrad swung ervading panic RAD CONRAD” ts, the his duty, A brave heart, to asked the nm Arizona said a saloon keeper, who m tht fugitive’s icono- ft beth his guns in my riff unbuckled his ross the counter. for me,” he said. revolver and “rll go and ed slowly vn the street, walk- ction of the guich, and the er him admir was, Rad mail-carrier. born that a-way,” sald the - “A man as ain't got no skeer t dessrve no credit fur havin’ wouldn't take his gun along, had left his'n. With a creetur Dan it "pears to me that’s a little reck- Dan overweighs Rad a matter of twenty-five pound, the very last. In the gulch things were as usual, to all sand ! of creation, she asuremen’ moder faltered not an standard of perfection. sir Was arranged in the nown in the most recently zine in Lava Ca e clear cut and regular b eyes of Melpomene and_ the cart of the ancient British queen whose inch from Her name she bore Miss Boadicea Reed also had a secret. * 4 woman, her dearest friends had ard it divulged. But as it was a e needs must be those to whom not imparted. That portion of hu Was the one denominated by Mi gentlemen.” This awful s she had never, no, never, f ightest sensation of fear or aba at any person or thing since remember. Miss Boadicea despised ontemned all the little feminine weak- and terrors of her sex with all the of one who did not understand ad she been born with time and in her favor she would have turning of a dynasty or two, y force the crown of some so- eendom, or at least have gone up In as the special female representa- > of one of the several greatest news- pers on earth. Snakes, dogs, spiders, lightning, men—the partial list of ings regarded by Miss Reed with a approaching contumely, will af- ight conception of her intrepidity In the presence of man, the lord felt no awe. Living in a town and possessing the she did, offers of marriage had ford a s of spirit. frontier mining attraction come years before, but her suitors had never awakened in her a feeling softer than comr; ship. She had laughed at cst of them, pitched one out the window and informed them all that they “made her tired." In fact, there was nothing in ail creation, with or without life, that had ever caused her a qualm or a tremor. She regarded robbers as vulgar persons be- ath notice, serpents, horned toads, mice 1 Gila monsters as uninteresting and un- terrifying vermin too insignificant to dread. Her secret ambition, cherished in good faith unt was eighteen, had been to dress in man’s clothes and travel around the world selling Pp. or diamonds, or patent quartz crushers—anything would do. Since she was twenty her ideas had toned down to a firm to be prima donna of an op, and the gulch had for many months echoed daily warblings that for clearness a ness, sur] olume, if not melodious- sily any voice in Lava ) The form within the crinkling white muslin was a storage battery of im- petuous lfe and fores that needed contin- ually some object upon which to exhaust its energy. s Boadicea swung in the grapevine, some ”) yards up the gulch from the house, she turned her gaze idly toward a thick clump of bushes, and saw an eye with a good jeal of red in the normally white portion of it looking at her between the leaves. She sat bolt upright on the vine, and, as it appeared to be a man’s eye, her hana, without any special volition of her brain, went to the knot of hair at the back of her head, smoothed it a ttle, and thrust tn the pins more securely. “Come out of there,” she said. Red-faced and heavy-eyed from drink, Arizona Dan, hitching up his revolverless belt, shuffled his huge form through the flexiie branches of the bushes Into the path. “Sh-sh-sh!" he said, his heavy face fold- ing into a dull smile intended to be reas- uring, “I ain't a-goin’ to hurt you, miss.” Hurt me!’’ said Miss Reed, contemptu- ously. “I should think not. What are you doing here?” “Just a-layin’ low, miss, and waitin’ for night. Yer see, I was on what you might call @ sort of spree, and broke a glass or two. Maybe somebody was hurt, too. The whisky done it. A good-lookin’ young lady i him, and the foot he lifted to take rd step weighed a hundred pounds, Uing of a branch to his right, above th, drew from him a swift glance, he looked for ten seconds into two that seemed to flash some strange, exalting ¢: e into his veins. A weight seemed loo: jomewhere within him, and he felt that he could hear it fall down, down to unsounded depths. He look- ed at Arizona Dan and laughed low and Joyously, as a child does who come upon a long-desired toy “Wil you come?” sald the sheriff in a tone bridegroom might have used to his pric “Til cut your heart out, Rad Conra id Arizona Dan, “if you come two steps near. Boadicea, on th» ledge above, rustled a httle, and the sheriff, without looking up, smiled again. Arizona Dan hel® his knife one holds a foil, point outward, with his thumb against the guard. The sheriff crouched some three inches like a cat, and seem2d to gather himself together with his welght balanced evenly on each foot. Ari- ona Dan stood still with his knife ready. Was Rad Conrad fool enough to attack him with his bare hands? The sheriff could have shouted for joy. Tike a flash valor and audacious courage had come upon him. He felt that he would never know fear again. Something had passed into his blood that had made him a man instead of the spurious being he had been. He felt the two dark eyes above xed upon rut 5 eee oo he kept his own upon Heretofore the sheriff's exploits had been attended by a fortuitous chance that Yrought him safely out of them—a chance Just as blind and incomprehensibl> as that which guards the ways of children and drunkards. Now he felt the caution, the indomitable intent to do coupled with the prudence of the successful general that gives bravery its value. Half a miracle had been accomplished. The ot y Peay her half was to It must ha’ ; been that Arizona Dan's nerves were unstrung by his debauch, else when a small stone dislodged by Buadicea’s foot rattled down to the path at his side he would not have bestowed the advantage of turning his head guickly to look. But he did so, and in the instant the sheriff had his knife arm by the wrist, and his other arm ubout his waist. Then Arizona Dan Was filled with surprise to feel the arm that held his knife slowly twisting In spite of all his resistance—twisting outward, until the tendons and muscles were cracking. The sheriff's hand was like a steel clamp, and when the pain grew unbearable Arizona Dan dropped the knife. When the sheriff heard it ring on the rocks he Teleased the wrist suddenly and laid his left forearm across Dan’s throat. They were too close for blows, and there was little struggling or shifting of ground. The arm across Arizona Dan’s throat pushed his head back, and the other iron band about his waist helt him close. It was a silent, fierce, straining contention on one side for the displacement, ard on the oth2r to regain the center of gravity. The side for dis- placement won, and the gladiators went down with a crash. A small boulder in the way of Arizona Dan’s head left him lying in a disgraceful h2ap oblivious to defeat. The sheriff knelt upon the vanquished dis- tributor of leaden largess, drew cords from his pocket and ignominiously bound him hand and foot. Then he sprang to his feet and turned his flushed faca aii yellow curls to the source of his new being, as a sunflower turns to the sun. Boadicea slid down through the bushes like a young panther. “You're a jim dandy,” she said, “If there ever was one, I saw it. I’— She stopped suddenly. The sheriff was SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 1898-24 PAGES. and thought sh> mys eyes slowly droppedYor fore another's. Hed ton: time tripped and falfe: ed, “It'll be dark soo; began the sheriff, and his voice sovndeg to for far away like the wind in the pine®; “you'd better let me walk back to the house with you. I'll bring a horse back ‘for this chap by the time he recovers. You ar. Aliss Reed, I think. J know your father.” ~~ = The evening breezé“rustfed airily throtgh the redwoods. A squffrei frisked up a h.ck- ory, and the first owi hoot came from the shadows about ths brpok..,. The brook’s Lab- ble no longer mocked; it. sang a paear of praise. As they walked down the path to- gether a scream of fright came from the namesake of the battle queen of the Brit- ons. i A horrid lizard!” she’ éried. ‘The sheriff's strong arm reassured ier. The miracle was complete. The soul of each had pass2d into the other. Se IN THE CHURCHES The annual session of the Christian mis- sionary convention, which is composed of the churches of that denomination in the District of Columbia, Maryland and Dela- ware, will begin October 5, at the Ninth Street Christian Church, Rev. E. B. Bagby, pastor. Mr. Bagby expects the attendance io be very large and also that a number of prominent speakers from different parts of the country will be present. The eighth anniversary of the Christian Endeavcr Society of the Ninth Street Christian Church was helt Sunday last. AU the original members of the organization who were present when the society was formed were at the anniversary exercises. The program was in charge of Mr. A. W. Bowen. Great interest has been excited among the Catholics of Washington and elsewhere throughout the archdioceses by the re- ported reception by Cardinal Gibbons of a photographie copy of the winding cloths in which the body of Christ was wrapped when taken down from the cross and pre- el for burial in the holy sepulcher. The © named has for many years been pre- have fever. Her e first time, be- ue for the first served in the Cathedral of Turin, and at intervals posed to general neration. The asion of iis exhibition to the general public was at the great exposition held in Turin, from May 23 to Ju and it was then the ecclesiastical authorities were prevailed upon to allow photographs to be taken of the sacred sheet. The first copy brought to this country was printed on fine linen and was presented to Cardi- nal Gibbons by a warm personal friend, who recently returned from Italy, where he personally Inspected the original. It is said the sacred sheet was brought from the east by Godfrey, the famous leader of the crusaders, who found it in Jerusalem and caused it to be carried to the capital city, Savoy. At his death the sheet passed into the hands of his daugh- ter and by her it was given to tho royal house of Savoy. Its transfer to Turin took place In 1453, by the hands of pious women of rank. The sacred relic was surrounded by rich silken embroidery, representing scenes in the passion and death of Christ. At the foot of the embroidery is a coat- of-arms of the state of Turin. It is. kept with the utmost care in an urn or case of black marble, inlaid with gold, and is se- cured by two keys, one of them in posses- sion of the Archbishop of Turin and the other kept by the King of Italy, and both are present when the case is opened to ex- pose the sheet to theipublic gaze. It is es- timated that at the Turin exposition over a million people from various quarters of the world viewed the holy relic. Among the most important communica- tions that Vice President Hobart will find awaiting him upon bis return to this city wiil be that from the secretary of the col- lege of bishops of the: M.£. Church South. The secretary of this body of leaders of that denomination has ‘sent to the Vico President of the United States, in his char- acter as President of ihe Senate, official notice that the college of bishops has de- termined to recomménd ‘the return to the treasury of the United States of the entire sum of about $288.4) which was appro- ated by Congress at ifs last session to mburse the Soutirn Met Chureh property destroyed! or aged at nville, Tenn, by” the federal armies during the civil war! The readers of TH® Star till recall that there was a vast amount of discussion fn the papers throughout’ the country as to whether or not Congress was deceived by rtain interested parties, and given to un- and that no part of the appropriation st who took interest Il through both houses of a matter of fact, the @ the matter in ch for the church had agreed to pay a man a fee amounting to more than § in case he should be successful ntion of this money, under the mstances surrounding it,’ Jed many prominent men in the chutch to urge the bishops to cenvene 2 special session of the general coaference in order that formal measures might be taken to return the money referred to. The bishops have not, however, taken this radical step, and one of the most prominent of the leaders of the church, in a recent conversation, said: “The impression seems to prevail in some quarters that since the bishcps have ap- parently declined for the present to call @ general conference, they expected to do nothing further, leaving the church to find her way out of the wildern best she may. Never had the rch South ind itself in a me lous situation. No worse calamity rtake our church than for this busin as it is until the year 1902, at which me the next regular session of the gen- eral conference will be held. “The issue has arisen far above questions of technical diff Personal recri tion neither pertinency, digni use, erywhere men who have unde standing of the times mugt and wil ris f. hu difficult, delicate, uld up to declare w the church ought to d ech and a free press, whatever ible abuse, must perform their cred functions. No policy of suppre: or silence will meet the emergency. “Speedily a way must be found for a ide t®der to the government of the United States of the entire sum .ppropr ated for the relief of the publishing iouse, or our title and relation to it will remain forever smirched.” Closely identified with the Lucy Webb Hayes Deaconess Home in Washington is the Elizabeth Gamble Deaconess Home in C‘ncinnati. While in that city a few days ago a Star reporter was given the following facts im relation to the latter institution: Connected with the Ohio titution ara sixty deacounesses. These women, duriug the year just ended, s 950 hours nursing the sick, made 9, its to homes o the people, besides scores of visits to those in the city prisons, hospitals and other institutions, and distributing thou- sonds of religious papers and many Bibles. They also gave 1,979 baskets of food to the hungry, 1,062 garments to the needy, aud took 1,212 bouquets to as many sick and aged persons; helped 73 persons to help themselves by getting profitable employ- ment for them; took 180 children to the Lills and woods or on the river for an out- ing this summer; visited hundreds of the suffering sick poor and ministered to thelr needs and conducted 455 religious meetings, They attended 1,527, religious meetings, teaching 1,170 girls and boys in the various irdustrial schools and 469 in their free kindergartens, besides doing a vast amount of work in the Sunday school. The total assets for the year were $41.750; the total indebtedness, $12,137." °° During the summer months the congre- gation of Old Trinity, 8d and C streets northwest, has been worshiping in the par- ish hall while the church has been given up to the decorators for renovation and im- provement. After much consultation with artists, and a visit to New York by the rector, during which e tyspected many of the handsomest churehes fn the city, it was finally decided to ae contract for the ion complete work, whic] now been finish- ed in a most satisfactpryanner, at a total cost of between tensand) eleven thousand dollars. £ The scheme of decoration adopted fs thir- teenth century Gothic, which lends itseif admirably to the architeeture of the church, The result 1s a pronounced success. The old windows have been replaced with opa- lescent glass of the most effective colors. The tints were selected with a view to their blending with the interior colors. The chancel has been paved with mosaic, and is now approached by a flight of marble steps. The altar is of pure white marble, resting upon a marble base. At the rigat of this is a marble-credence, a memorial to a com- municant of the parish now in Paradise. Between the sanctuary and the choir there is a new rail of oak and mattque brass, the oaan of the standards’ being the ‘grape- ine. The choir is separated “from the nave by & parapet rail of quartered oak, before which stands out in bold relief a pulpit of marble and brass, a memorial to Dr. Addi- son, the beloved rectory of Trinity for near- ly thirty years. On the opposite side of looking straight inte he eyes. She felt, for |the church is a lecturn of white marble, the first time, @ strange heat in her cheeks, also a memorial. The entrance of the church has been greatiy improved by the erection of a vestibule of oak and trans- lucent glass. New carpets and cushions have been added. Last winter e-ectri t fixtures were introduced. Altogether, Trin- his become almost a new ch xterior has been painted and poi and two handsome cross ed on the towers, y sidewalk is being laid, and inside this a fine iron railing i be built. The space between tie railing and the church is to be turfed, so that the block occupied by the church’and parish 1} will be one of the handsomest in the city. opening service tomorrow in the reno building will be a most joyous occasion. There will be an attractive program of mu- sic, and the sermon will be preached by the rector, the Rev. Richard P. William: Dr. E. D. Huntley, pastor of Trinity M. E. Church, who has been on his vacation for the past month, will return to the city next week and occupy his pulpit Sunday, the 25th instant. Dr. Wallace Radcliffe, pastor of the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church, has re- turned and will conduct the public’ worship morning and evening tomorrow. The music will be led by the quartet choir, Mr. J. Por- ter Lawrence, organist. Sunday school, 30 a.m.. 6:50 p.m., C. E. Society. Sau ee: HANDLING COAL IN LONDON. A “Derrick Pontoon” Which Distri- bates Five Cargoes Daily. From the London Mail. Infinite as is the variety of the shipping that finds its way to the Thames, there is due to arrive in the river today a craft whose unusual appearance will excite the curiosity of the longshore population. At 6 o'clock yesterday morning there left the Tyne, in charge of thre> powerful tug bo: a large steel structure known in shipbuilders’ parlance as a derrick pontoon, which, given a good voyage, will haul up to its berth today at the coal depots of William Cory & Son, limited, at Charlton. This derrick pontoon, which has been chris- tened Atlas No. 3, is specially intended to facilitate the discharge and distribution of the sea-borne coals. The pontoon measures 500 feet in length by 47 feet 6 inches in width and 12 feet 6 inches in depth, and her outfit of machin- ery is of such an ingenious and powerful character that she can claim to be the only craft of her kind in the world. Atlas No. 3 has, indeed, been specially designed to carry out a specific purpose, and when she is safely moored at her berth Londoners will be able to see their coal handled at a rate which cannot be equaled at any other coal importing center. At Charlton there are now two floating derricks, but they are simply old ships con- verted for the purpose. The new derrick pontoon is shipshaped at the ends, with a poop at each end, and has four lines of rails running nearly its entire length. On one side—the side which will present itself to the river, at which the steam colliers are to le—there are nine hydraulic grabs, with weighing machines attached, running on one pair of rails. With these grabs, when a collier arrives alongside, the coal will be hurried out of the holds, weighed and registered, and then swung round and discharged into nine corr2sponding chutes traveling on another patr of rails, and from the chutes the coals are shot out on the opposite side of the pontoon into barges. In the course of a day it is estimated that this derrick pontoon will be able to handle in this way about 5,000 tons of coal, or the cargoes of four to five ordinary steam colliers. Nor does this exhaust the equipment of London’s new coal distributor. There is a complete set of workshops on board, so that repairs can be done by the staff, a rge kitchen, with range and grill, and separate dining rooms for the lightermen, private cabins for the captain and en- er in charge, and a handsomely fitted ‘tors’ room, while the electric Hight is fitted throughout. The Cory Company patches over London and its environments between five and six milli s of sea borne coal per year. This vast quantity is used almost entirely for household, manu- facturing and bunkering purposes, and leaves out of account another two or three million tons imported by the great gas com- panies for lighting purposes, and also the large quantity of rail-borne house coal that com into the metropolis from the York- shire and Midland coal fields ——+0+ ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. imports and dis- THEY No Arrangements for Personal Con- venience in Paris Play Houses. Prom the London Telegraph. Playgoers who yield to the inducements of the French stage when they come over here will have learned long ago from ex- perience what genuine discomfort is suf- fered in theaters. Parisian managers cater admirably for the public as far as the play and the acting are concerned. When they come to consider, however, the question of trero material comfort, it would seem as if they felt in nowise called upon to make allowances for the weaknesses of the flesh. The trials to which a playgocr is put in an undersized stall, with no available room for his nether limbs, partake almost of the rigor of the monastic ordeals of old. To ich chastisement of the flesh the Parisian pl s long submitted uncomplain- ingly for the sake of the edification pro- Vided for his spirit from the stage. There are now signs, however, that the worm will at last turn.’ Parisians have crossed the channel, lolled in the ample armchairs pro- vided in your playhouses, and returned to grumble at the hardships they have to en- i in their own. Quite ‘revolutionary sures of reform are everywhere being proposed. Why not do away with the three officials enthroned behind a desk at the dcor, who constitute the so-called ‘“con- trole,” and whose duties consist in nesd- ssly examining and punching tickets at xpense of public patience? Tt might n be feasible to suppress the “ouvreuse,” who damages hats and loses umbrellas in return for a tip which she exacts and grumbles at. Besides a degree of material comfort, playgocrs expect within the bounds of pos- sibility not to endanger their lives when they go to the theater. According to the committee of public safety in theaters, now sitting, it would, however, be unwise to place overmuch eonfidence ‘in this re- spect in the arrangements at present made in some Parisian playhouses. The chair- man of the committee, M. Blane, prefect of police, has accordingly drawn up new sets of rules with regard to publle accom- modation in theaters, which are to be strin- gently enforced. Playgoers in Paris will be glad to hear that In future boxes in thea- ters are to be provided with doors of a sufficient width to allow of easy ingress and exit, and so arranged as not to block passages when open. Furthermore, nothing In the shape of stools or movable seats will be allowed in the passages, while that in- convenient invention, the “strapontin, which, besides being ‘the most uncomfort able seat ever provided for a long-suffer- ing public, endangers the lives of the au- dience should panic occur, by effectually blocking the openings between rows of stalls, is to be done away with. In time M. Blane will no doubt succeed in making Parisian playhouses both safe and com- fortable. It is a remarkable fact, however, considering how extensively Parisians pa- tronize the theater, that two such impor- | tent improvements for a playgoing public should not have been accomplished before now. Gunboats Shipped by Rail, From the Philadelphia Record, While the British army is pushing its way up the Nile valley, it is achieving a most wonderful naval exploft. This is the carry- ing of gunboats along with the soidiers by railroad. To take war ships ashore and overland se2ms like a comic opera cam- Paign at first glance. But it is really a very serious and scientific method of waging war. These gunboats, which are cut into sections and loaded upon freight cars, will be put together after the fashion of a port- abl2 canoe and launched on the upper Nile. This is done to overcome that world-old ob- stacle, the cataracts of the Nile. But these gunboats are no wooden scow-like affairs. They are up-to-date steel vessels. To carry on2 of them requires a whole train of a dozen flat cars. When put together they are 140 feet long, with a beam of twenty- one feet. Each one will carry an annament of at least two, three or six-pound guns, and several smaller machine guns. Yet. with this battery, formidable enough to turn loose on the Arabs along the river banks, these boats will draw but one foot ten Inches of water. They can glid3 into shallow pools and float nearly here that a canoe can They are flat-bot- tomed, with curved” sterns and turbine propellers, thus employing every known de- vice for operating in shallow waters. LIVELY SEA YARNS Told When Capt. Taylor Met Capt. Bob Evans, THE FIRST TEN MINUTES DID THE JOB The Austrian Missed’ the Music, but Admired Results. PUNCH BOWL ALL RIGHT Written for The Brening Star. When Captain Taylor of the battle ship Indiana was in the city a short while »go he told his immediate friends a number of interesting and amusing incidents of the battl> off Santiago that have never been published. Captain Taylor is a jovial fol- lower of the sea and knows a good story when it happens his way. He declares that after the last of Cervera’s ships had been destroyed there were many litile things that appealed to one’s risibilitles, in Spite of the scene of destruction and the general feeling of what might be called exultant sadm Captain Taylor, as is w: citcles, is a. brother-in. Bob” Evans of the Ioy friendship and relation ll known in naval jaw of “Fi The between the two are very strong, indeed, and both ad- battle D mitted afterward that during they were half wishing that would happen to the other ‘that the rush to the rescue and be of service. After all the poor Spaniards had been safely tucked away in the various ships of Uncle Sam and all the excitement of the famous battle was over, it was but natural that Capt. Evans should call upon Capt. Taylor on the former's oid ship, the Indiana. Congratulations were exchanged in a manner befitting the occasion, and then the two began ialking of their ex- periences. It was in the cabin of the big battle ship and several of the rescued Span- ish officers were sitting disconsolately in the group. “It strikes me as remarkable,” spoke up the far-famed “Fighting Bob,” “that dur- ing the first ten minutes of ihe encounter when I was on the bridge giving crders to my men I heard small shot and shell whistling ali about my ears the ally would see a huge body of steel go sailing overhead, a discharge from one of the hedvier turret guns of Cerveru’s fine fleet. ‘Then gradually the excitement cf the chase became intense, and the throb- bing of the engines beneath me and the Loom of our own guns finally made me cblivious to the fact that any shots were flying around the ship. It seemed ag if we wer? at target practice and that there was no enemy at all. The smoke enveloped us for a time, too, but in the midst of it all there was no feeling of danger to the ship or the men. “That is truly strange,” d2clared Capt. Taylor, “but do you know, Bob, I experi- enced precisely the same sensation, After the first elght or ten minutes of the battle 1 was not cognizant of the fact that steel missiles of death were flying all about us. The whistling of the shots I heard no more, just as you say. I suppose that is the way it should be in battle, and that a kind Providence had made it so.” Just then a junior Heutenant of the Spanish lin2, who was an English scholar and had taken in everything that was sald, broke the silence he and his fellows had maintained since their capture: “I think I may easily exp’ which you have been talking, in that of he piped. “We did not fire any shots after the first eight or ten minutes. You drove our men from the gun’ Capt. Bob Ic looked at ez subject. After the Fight Was Over. Another story ts told by Captain Taylor ked at Capt. Taylor. They ch other. They changed the of an incredulous Austrian naval officer who | arrived on the scene of the Santiago bat- tle after the fun was all over in that Aus- trian warship that was at first believed to be another Spanish target for the American guns. When the dark lines of the ap- proaching warship were seen hull down on the horizon Captain Taylor was one of the first to make for her. The Indiana was black and grimy with powder stains, while the decks were running in dark water— the wash from the swabbing of guns. The ship was filled with powder smoke, pilot house, conning tower, captain's cabin and hold. ‘There was every indication of a bat- tle. Captain Taylor himself stood in uni- form trousers and his naval cap. Some of his fellow officers declare that the remain- der of his make-up on this occasion was a satisfied smile. At any rate, the captain was at his post of duty on the bridge, while the engine- room force below was crowding on ail steam. The gunners, just through with the flower of Spain's fleet, were standing by their pieces, ready at a moment to begin on this unknown enemy. Visions of the Cadiz fleet were before the eyes of the blockaders, who had just turned one victory, and all smelt a battle, and of battle, too.’ The In- diana made for the stranger with a rush. As the Austrian colors went up to the main on the ship of war there was a grunt of disappointment all around. The two ships presently came to a standstill not far distant from each other. A boat was seen to put out from the Austrian and was soon alongside the Indiana’s gang-plank with a lieutenant on board, sent to exchange greet- ings with the American commander and to ask news of the struggle with Spain. The Meutenant was conducted to the captain's cabin, amazement written on every line of his face. He looked first at the decks and then at the begrimed crew and the officers all wet with perspiration and delightfully dirty. The powder smoke in the cabin stifled him. His ship was too far away during the fight to hear anything but a cistant rumble—a rumble like the “heavy cannonading” so often heard off the Mole St. Nicholas. When Captain Taylor appeared the Aus- trian promptly asked what such a state of things indicated. fi “It indicates,” answered the captain, “that we have just engaged the enemy.” “What! Cervera?” “The same.’” What were your losses?” “None.”” “But where is the Spanish fleet?” again queried the now thoroughly excited for- eigner. “Come up on the poop with me and I will show you.” The Austrian took his binoculars from their leathern case. “There—and there—and there—and anoth- er, the Cristobal, a little out of view,” re- marked Captain Taylor as he pointed ‘slow- ly to the burning ships along the Cuban shore. “Great God!” The Austrian silently took his leave. A truly grand respect for Amer- nd oceasion- | | jican fighters will ever remain with the lieuterant. Struck the Panch Bowl. Speaking of the Indiana, Captain Taylor deciarcd that only one shell did any dam- age aboard the ship. Strangely enough damage was highly appreciated by every officer of the battle ship's crew. Shortly after the Indiana, which was America’s first of the higher type of battle ships, went into commission the rest- dents of the hoosier state presented an ex- | cepttonally fine stlyer service to the ward- room officers. A beautifully engraved and magnificently heavy silver punch bowl was the center piece. During the thick of the fight at Santiago a small shell entered the ward-room officers’ mess and exploding, a piece struck the pretty punch bowl converted the once round affair inte rath- er lopsided oblong. At first the officers re- gretted the disaster to the bowl of good cheer from the bottom of their heart Then they thought of it. The malforma- th was a scar of honor, they soon de- clared, and should not be eliminated by any Jeweler on the face of the earth. If you are ever on board the Indiana you will doubtles@Mhear the story. — FORMATION OF A CYCLONE. Inception of the Twisters That De, Destruction Death. icholas. ; To get an idea of a cyclone’s formation | imagine a large circular pan or tub with | quite a large hole in the middle of the bot- j tom, With this hole plugged, fill the ves- sel with water; then draw cut the plug | and watch. There fs first a rush of wator from all directions toward the hole and a turbulent effort get through ‘Then the water surface above begins to sink and From St to | swirl, the particles gradually circling | around and around, and rushing, over faster, toward the center. At last there is ectually a hellow space through the enter, around which all the water in the tub ts whirling, sluggishly near the rim, but with more and more violent rapidi teward the middle, until it rushes down- ward through the bottom ow. if that water were air you would be watching a Mttle cyclone turned upside down, for the air rushes upward instead of downward. In the cradle of cyclones during the sum- mer months, when the land and the water grow hotter and hotter because of the longer days than nights, a layer of air, | hot, ght and full of vapor, ts for a time hela down by denser air above It. Rest- less, expanding, tumultuous, {t moves about like a beast at , until a thinner place in the alr above ts found. Then up it madly rushes and into the vacuum left behind the lower atmosphere hastens from all directicns, pushing and twisting and pouring upward uatil tt has fallen into a regular spirring around a common center. The cyclone, once formed, rushes | away from the tropics toward the pol | and begins its career of destruction, brut jing, wrecking and sinking the luckless | ships which happen to be tn its path. More and more of the surrounding atmosphere | is drawn into the whtrl, until the storm often covers an area nearly 1,000 miles tn Giameter. Sometimes it flings itself upon our Atlantic coast and tears fiercely through forests, fields and cities. Then again it sweeps away across the broad ocean and dashes itself upon the coasts of Europe. Once in a while tt so adro’ avoids the land that we never know has passed until ships come in torn and broken. oe Etiquette of the Desert. From the Century. Soctal etiquette among the Arabs ts a factor in N%e to be considered seriously if you wish to v2 emong them withont fri tion. Its obligations are not to be com- pietely mastered in a few months. Some times when I have had companions with me presumably thoroughly au fait with ell things Mohammedan, the harmony of the occasion has been seriously endangered by | some thoughtlessness or ignorance on their part, which to the Moslem could appear only as a contemptuous want of consideration Thus, no greater insult could be offered to {an Arab than a friendly inquiry as to the welfare of his wife—to us a natural clyilit but to him a gross impertinence bitterly | reeented. On one occasion I nearly made a similar blunder. I was invited by a neigh boring sheik to go over to see him, and was on the point of riding up to his tent | door and diemounting there. Fortunately. | however, I recollected fn time that etiquett= demanded that I should halt fifty yards off, and call in a loud voice: “Have I your per- mission to approach?” This gives time to j bundle off any of their womenkind who may be about, preparatory to the admis- | sion of a stranger. It is curfous also to no- | tice that, in spite of the real affection ex- | isting between father and son, the sense of | respect dominates all other feelings, and the sons will never sit at meat with their father in the presence of @ guest. but will wait upon both until the father, rising, al- lows them the opportunity of breaking bread with their visitor. Provided, however, that you recognize their social customs, my experience has | proved the Bedouin to be genuine, warm- hearted friends: and they really become greatly attached to those whom they know and who know them. — The Spaniel at His Best. From Outing. To see the spaniel at his best he should be taken to the haunts of the water fowl. In the salt marshes, the lakes and streams of the east, ard in the prairie sloughs of the west, he is indeed a great little dog. | His stumpy legs may be poor performers on dry ground, but they are very eficient when it comes to swimming. The dog, too, is a hardy fellow, ready to face any weather and cold water whenever asked. As a retriever from water he is most de- strable, while his intelligence and compact form make him the best of dogs for the ducking skiff. Of course, the Irish water spaniel is excluded from all references to short legs and clumsiness; a good specimen of this dog appears to be quite long-legyed The Irishman is also very active ard full of dash. The chief value of thes Irish spaniel to the sportsman is as a retriever. He ts a worthy fival of the famous dog of the Chesapeake, and no weather is too severe, while few tasks are too difficult for him! He is game to the core, a very powerful. magnificent swimmer, and to all intents a natural retriever. His ofly coat can hid de- flance to cold water, while a vigorous shake appears to at once dry tt. He is as hardy as a badger. He is @ most intelli- gent and willing worker, and will show to the greaiest advantage under conditions which would baffle almost any other re- triever from water. ee A Bad Break. From Puck. Medico—“How is it you failed to become an ambulance surgeon?” Sawbones—“In the examination I was foolish enough to tell how to distinguish a drunken man from one with a fractured skull.” A TRAVELER'S TALE. Mr. Borecastie—“At last be hardly safe even for a