Evening Star Newspaper, October 1, 1898, Page 23

VESUVIUS IN ACTION Some of the Famous Outbreaks of This Noted Volcano. Tt WAS ONCE A WOODED MOUNTAIN Of Interest to Travelers and of Value to Writers. BULWER’S DESCRIPTION > e-Demoerat ion of Mount Vesuvius Louis erupt is, from all accounts, the severe mani- festat the kind that oceurred for more than thirty years Beginning about a with premonitory symptoms the emission of steam, fumes, the eruption an »yhurou violence until it assumed a threatened to devastate many vincyards, orchares and gardens ate vicinity of the volcano. »pened near the summit java strgams have en known in this the ven larger than has be centu and the outflow more extensiv wh © pyrotechnic display is more im- pressive and magnificent than any which has oceurred and a great number ed, Vesuvius wa: the cup- pression down The region was nd the moun nd the dense mountain mit were so had not shown toric times, ang and in the first century of the much as the extin volcanos ce are by the people liv- borhood. om in AD. 79 npletely at rest, for periods of Fermer Outb s eruptions t aks. place in A. D. 685 and 9S. It is a singular T, illustrating the change prob- place in the subterranzan re- ably tak. gions which feed the fires of Vesuvius, that no flow of lava is recorded from the moun- tain prt 1086. Previous eruptions, while terrific in violence, were not accompanied by a lava discharge, the mountain throwing vast quan z hich, combining in the up- per regi the air, fell as showers of scalding mud. If the reports which have n the early centuries ct, the eruptions of A. > notable than any ed up to the pres- tbreak ashes and cin- from the volcano were the the to efuption i off to the citles of X d these we preted by the aging bloody and p later middl e attracted much att>n- to have caused any gregt amouni of damage. a fact probably n of the tim f the entrances deterred the peo- ng on the pes of the moun tain or near its b There was a terrific outbur: ard the close of the year 1631, Torre del Greco wa royed, with a loss of 400 This ytion occurred a Christm d while prepara- being made at Rome an y splendid celebration ity, and in the popular mind the jue to the hatred of Satan for i to his et- east by the destru ristian people as poss ther tremendous mani- . after which. Vesuvius Week bef quiescent until 1767. In i @ most violent outbreak; the voleano ruined nea: 10,000 nd, fourteen villages were € top of ht mountain fell in, by over 1,00 feet and = miles in circumfer- Increasing in Violen pt teenth century, there manifestations of a@ scientist not less capa- serving the phenome- ~% his observa- 1 of the world. Ac- r William's notes, the erup- Fr W&s one of the grandest ver seen on the earth. “White ps of cotton, rose four times ie Mountain, and spread about nal extent. Into these clouds, ae und ashes were projected at rns of fire shot 8 high as the mountain sses of rock were thrown out, . Subsequently measurdl, was umference.” Notable Eruptions. hree notable eruptions have oc- century, that of 1855 ravag- ing th Te neighborhood, the floods of ya descending as far as the sea and cov- course vineyards, cultivated dwellings. The eruption of De- was of exceptional violence; were opened between the sum- Sea, and the lava streams push- bay made a material alteration the coast line. In STZ there was an out- break which lasted for several months, all Villages for a distance of three miles from were destroyed, and the arable in devastated by showers of flows of molten lava. Many lives lost during this eruption, for ft came at the dwellers in the neigh- he volcano had not time to were either slain in their homes Ss and scoriae, or perished cating vapors emitted from the 5 Is regarded by s object lesson For many t has maint, entists as a in volcenic Years the I:allfan ted an observatory and with tnstrements @ purpose it is quite possible nm eruption. Many lives and property have been saved in recent by this precaution, and now when traments of the observers on Vesu- Vius ate an approaching disturbance the news is telegraphed down the monn- tain and circulated among the people of the Villages and farms at its base. The present eruption was foretold a week before It curred, the observer noting an unusual di turbance and sending out the intelligence. That people should reconcile themselves to Ive on the slopes of a volcano 1s one of © curios of human nature. It might be gupposed that after one experience of dis- er the population would desert the Relghborhood forever, but the popvlation Goes nothing of the kind. As soon as an gfuption is over the people go back to their Vineyards on the slopes of Vesuvius, re- Duild their ruined houses, replant their burned vines as quickly as the cooling of the lava and ashes will permit and begin evwain the manufacture of the Ae the in Christi, Tears of Christ, the famous wine preduced only on the slopes of the moun- tain. Bulwer'’s Description. The mountain hos been of value to the litterateur as well as to the scientist. No tour is complete without a visit to Naples, no book of travel omits the bay and its vol- cano. Few stories of [ialian life and scen- ery have been compicted without at least a reference to the burning mountain, wk!ch, at most times, placilly emitting a light cloud of vapor, is capable of being roused to the wildest fury. Vesuvius has played a grand part in fiction as well as in tourist notes and travel books, for it is the central figure in Bulwer’s greatest novel. With artistic cunning he makes the eruption cf the mcuniain the climax In his story, and it was after witnessing the outbreak of 1s31 that he wrote the famous description which has never been excelled: “The cloud which had scattered so deep @ murkiness over the day had now set- tled into a solid and impenetrable mass. It resembled less even the thickest gloom of a night in the open air than the close and blind darkness of yome narrow room. But in proportion as the blackness gath- ered did the lightnings around Vesuvius increase in their vivid and scorching glare. Nor was their horrible beauty confined to the usual hues of fire; no rainbow ever rivaled their varying and prodigal dyes. Now brightly blue as the most azure depth of a southern sky—now of a livid and srake-like green, darting restlessly to and fro es the folds of am enormous serpent— now a lurid and intolerable crimson, gush- ing forth through the columns of smoke, far and wide, and lighting up the whole city from arch to arch—then sudderly dy- ing Into a sickly paleness, like the ghost of thefr own life! “Tn the pauses of the showers you heard the rumbling ef the earth beneath, and the groaning waves of the tortured sea; or, lower still, and audible but to the watch of intensest fear, the grinding and hissing murmur of the escaping gases through the chasms of the distant mountain. Some- times the cloud appeared to break from its solid mass, and, by the lightning, to as- sume quaint and vast mimicries of human or of monster shapes, striding across the gioom, hurling upon one another and yan- ishing swiftly into the turbulent abyss of shade, so that to the eyes and fancies of the affrighted wanderers the unsubstan- tial vapors were as the bodily forms of Sisantic foes—the agents of terror and of death.” A Picture of Their Conditions Half a Century Ago. From the Century. Coffee plantations, though so beautiful, hav not increased in numbers of late years; in fact, many of them have been changed into sugar estates, which are more Profitable, and render the owner socially more Important. The owner usually resides in Havana, wh>re his family may enjoy the pleasures of cultivated society and have the luxurtes of @ city; he therefore employs a Sart of middleman, cailed a major-domo, to Manage his estate. The owner wants all the monzy he can get to maintain his estab- lishment In Havana, and the major-domo seeks to increase his percentage, and thus the poor slaves are ground to the dust, and at times the cruelties practiced are bar- barous. Th> mayorals are usually Canary Islanders, a hot-tempered and cruel race, and, being without the restraint of the Presence of the owner, are vindictively op- Presstve, and in their inhuman punishmants often take life. The horrors which have been perpetrated in Cuba by the lash weuld disgrace barbarians. One striking fact attesting the hardships of slave life on a sugar sstate is thet chil- dren are very rarely seen there. Slave men in their vigor are more profitable, and hence in a large force of s2veral hundred men only a few women are allowed. T Jabors and hardships which these women endure tend to prevent increase, and th> few ren born usually die in infancy no care taken to y it is cheap- the losses on the plantations by new importations than by tke rearing of children. The climate, fortunately, is so mild that the slaves need but little cloth- d a wid? palm hat and a cloth about are their costume in the fialds, the sun seeming to have but little effect upon their black skins. Every week there is a ration da which they ar2 drawn up in long itne: a f2w pounds of k-looking beef brought from Buenos Ayres are thrown at the feet of each, which at night eaca cooks to suit himseif. In addition, a coarse meal or small hominy (bran and all) is boiled, and put in a trough, trom which they eat it every morning with a spoon, a paddl>._or their hands, as they choose. The Africans brought into Cuba are gen- erally from the coast of Mozambique, ard are called Locoomees and Caravalees. They are large, stout mn, of dogged will, and at times are very obstinate. All these creatures belleve implicitly in the transmigration of souls, and that if they commit suicide they go immediately back to Africa. To check this avil, when a suickle occurs, the mayorel makes each of the slaves bring a bundle of wood and build a funeral pyre, on which tha body is burned. The ashes are then scattered in the air by the survivors, in whoss opinion the dead negro’s soul ig thus :prevented trem returning to Africa. In scattering the ashes they sigh audibly, “Aha! Aha!” as If expressing grief that the soul of their com- panion can no longer go home. Th> appearance of the sugar estates is the very opposite of the beautiful coffee Plantations. Wide fields of monotonous green stretch themselves to the horizon on every side, wnile n2re and there the royal palm lifts its tufted head above the verdant level. The mayoral’s house, the sugar works, and the dingy barracoons for the Slaves are the only objects to br2ak the monotony of the desolate scene. When first planted, the cane is iaidleng*hwise in trenches, or furrows, about five ur six fect apart, and than covered. From each eye (there is an eye to each sound joint) a shoot springs up, and sends out others, furming a bunch of canes; and thus the fields are covered with the most luxuriant green. Every year the crop is cut it the ground, and th» next season another crop springs up from the routs, which are called vatons. These vatons will yield crops in this way for several years, the length of time de- pending on the mildness of the ciimate. In Louisiana only three or four crops ar3 gathered from one planting, while in the tropics eighteen or twenty are thus obtain- ed. The grinding of the cane begins abcut the last of October, and continues until tha beginning of the rainy season, a period of nearly six months. This Is tne time of greatest labor on the estate; and, without intermission of Sundays or holidays, with but few exceptions, the slavas work inces- santly, and men and teams are worn gut before work is over. The slaves are given @ few trifling presents and are allowed som: extra privileges to encourage them in undergoing the increased labor. — a An Elephant Court-Martialed. From Tit-Bits. An elephant was once court-martialed at Mhow. central India. The animal had been put under arrest, and charged with killing his keeper, a native soldier. It was found that the native had given the elephant of- fense by stealing some of his food after it had beer: served out to him. The elephant had caught him in the act, and before tho man could get away the great brute put his fcot on him, then winding his trunk around him, lfted him tnto the alr, and before any one could stop him he dashed the man to the ground and killed him. The trial Was most curious. Firat cams the whole of the elephants belonging to the etation in a long, solemn procession. They formed up in two lives on either side ef the place ef punishmert. The prisoner was then marched up. Around bis neck was a tre- mendous chain, the ends of which were attached to the collars of two other ele- pants. who walked on efther sido of him. When he reached the punishment stone his feet were inserted Into four holes and chained. When the prisoner was thor- oughly secured the brigade major and staff rode along the lines. They halted on getting within a few yards of the elephant. The brigade major then produced several sheets of foolscap, and, calling the pria- oner by name, bade him give attention to what was going to be read. Tho major first read out the charge, then the evidence for and against him. At the conclusion of the evidence the prisoner was found guilty, and was sentenced to receive forty-eight lashes with a chain, and after that pun- ishment he should for three months draw log chained to his leg. The corporal ele- phant then approached to within a few feet of the prisoner, and a large iron chain was placed in his trunk. At a signal from the major he commenqced to fiog the pris- oner. Not @ sound was uttered by the other elephants, but the groans of the prisoner as the chain descended across his ribs were indescribable, cn and ‘THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1898-24 PAGES. RED HOT “AMERICAN TOWN * Where 117 in the Shade is Evidence That Qld Sol Means Business. Yuma, Ariz., Holds This Record Un- disputed by Competition— Adobe Houses, From the Boston Transcript. The people who flee to the mountains and Seashore these summer days as if before a pestilence, when what they know as the heated term is on, can have no idea what hot weather really is until they have spent a few days in this old town on the Colorado river in southwestern Arizona. The people who tell agonizing tales of their suffering in tne periods of temperature among the nineties in the great cities ought to come out here these summer days to know better what Od! Sol can do in the way of heat making when he gets really down to bus- iness. What would you say to living in a spot where not a blade of grass may be seen, where there Is nothing green but a few trees shimmering in the dusty -sun- shine, where the earth everywhere is so hot that one cannot stand upon it with bare feet. and where from June 1 to early OQc- tober the temperature is seldom below 00 degrees, and more generally about the 110th degree mark—once in a while running up to 123 and 125 degrees? What would you think of a temperature for a full month not less than 97 degrees, of two weeks at a time varying from 108 to 115 degrees, and even a week at a time over 112 degrees in the shade? That is what the residents of this quaint old town of Yuma have regu- larly each summer. So far this season the Yumans have had two spells of weather when the mercury climbed up to 117 de- grees in the shade every morning for a few successive days, and descended to 96 and 100 degrees in the night. From June 10 to 14 the dally temperature ranged from 107 to 115 degrees. From June 18 to June 21 inclusive the temperature on each after- noon went as high as 117 degrees in the shade. Yuma has been the banner hot town of America for forty or fifty years. That an- cient, palsied and weather-beaten story about the soldier who lived and died in the rurrison at Yuma, and whose ghost came back one night for his army blankets for use down in chilly, frosty hell, has gone far and wide throughout the world (even Dr. Depew recentiy told it to a group of re- porters who welcomed him home in New York from his tour of the Pacific coast) and has given a certain characteristic to the fame of the town. In the forties and fifties the army garrison at Yuma was famous among Uncle Sam’s soldiers as the most dreaded’ post on the frontier, and the let- ters and diaries of such military men as Gens. Albert Sidney Johnston, Edward F. Beale and Kearny, who served their mill- tary apprenticeship there, are plentiful with comments on the teriffic hot weather of Fort Yuma in the summer months while they served there. All conditions seem to unite in making Yuma the hot summer spot it ts. It ts lo- cated in 1 low, basinlike locality on the edge of the lazy, muddy Colorado river, as it meanders through desert sands and adobe soil down to the Gulf of California. Away to the west, across the river, and to the south, stretches the Colorado desert, several thousand square miles in area. It is so merciless, ghastly and flerce a desert waste that no one dares cross it by wagon or on foot in the summer months, and never in winter or early spring, unless accompa- nied by a companion or two, and fitted out with an abundance of drinking water and food. Every summer there are venture- some miners who lay down their lives in trying to cross those deserts because they are overtaken by a sand storm or are weak- ened unto death by the dreadful heat. Rain falls in Yuma and the region round- about but four or five times in a year, and then only in the early winter months. There are, however, some very heavy floods here in the menths of February and March, | when the water in the Colorado river rises and overflows its banks because of the melting snows away up in the mountains of Colorado und northern Arizona and the heavy rains in southern California. When the water recedes it leaves some thousands ef acres of rich bottom lands along the sides of the river, an area of alluvial mud, where the Indians plant iheir mesquite beans and melon seeds for their annual crops, the same as the Egyptians make their annual planting along the banks of the Nile when the floods are past. The fer- tility of these bottom lands has attracted attention, and In recent years enterprising Yankees have taken up hundreds of acres of this soil, and are growing to a small ex- tent fruits and melons, which are first in the market even in semi-tropical southern California and Los Angeles. The town of Yuma has a population of three thousand. About half of these are Americans from eastern states, and the rest are Mexicans. A large part of the buildings here are adob2—that is, built of adobe mud bricks. They have walls from two to three feet thick, and are one story high. At night every one siceps out of doors. Many slee} there through ten months in the yzar. I midsummer no one can well endure the heat and closeness of any apartment. The sight that one hes as he gazes from a two- story building or some »minence in the place early in the morning in summer across the old town would be long remem- bered by any one not accustomed to Arl- zona life and customs. Hundreds of men and women, each stretched out asleep on a cot, may be seen on the roofs or in the in- closures at the back of their respective houses out on piazzas. Many of them are sleeping in their clothes, others have a simple sheet as a eover, while little boys and girls are alsep- ing the sleep of the just without the least incumbrance of clothing or covering. When 5 o'clock comes and old Sol rises so high that sleep ts longer out of the qu2stion, even for the old-timers of the Yumans, there is a general movement on every roof- top and in every yard and piazza of the in- terior of the domicile for raiment and for morning ablutions. At the railroad hotels all the beds are made up every day in sum- mer on the plazzas. The diet of the psople in this land of adobe and sunshine is very simple, and the average person knows nothing but the bare necessities of life. Melons, gre3n corn and such fruits as apricots and peaches are very abundant and cheap. They are eaten by every one. Drizd beef, venison and mut- ton, brought down from the mountains, ‘are in every home, and there are all man- ner of Mexican dishes and soups that every one, even th> most recent arrival from New England, eats with pleasure in these heated days. Alcoholic stimulants are no doubt drunk more generally in Arizona and all the mining localities in the south- west than anywhsre fn the east, but the rinker must exercise prudence in his rams in the famous hot towns, such as Yuma, Phoentx or Needles, for the intense heat has greater eff2ct on a person in a state of alcoholic intoxication than on any one else. The sudden death of a hard drinker in a period of unusual heat is com- mon in this region. ———--+ e+ __ The Western Pistol. From the New Orleans Times-Demoerat. One of the big frontier six-shooters used by the Rough Riders at the charge of San Juan Hill attracts a gcod deal of attention a the window of an vp-town store. It Is a typs of weapon almost peculiar to the west—single-action, 45-caliber, with a bar- rel eight inches long and a wooden handle. The real cowboy and veteran miner will carry nothing else. Both despise a double- action or self-cocking pistol, and in the “cow country” it is a common thing for ranchmen to take out the triggers of their six-shooters and fire them by manipulating the hammer with the thumb. To see an expert do this {s to witness a pretty piece of juggling. Another oddity of frontier re- volver etiquette is in the way the weapon is carried. Many cowboys sling it in a hostler on the right hip, with the handle pointing outward. It is drawn with a cur- fous circular sweep, and comes up cocked and ready for business. More than one “tenderfoot” has bored a hole through him- self ir attempting to acquire this particular bit of legerdemain. e+ —_____ The Czar of Russia probably owns 2 greater quantity of china than any other erson in the world. He has the china be- longing to all the Russian rulers as far back as Catherine the Great. It is stored in an immense closet in the Winter Palace at St. Petersburg. One of the newest things In the building line is the aluminum hut for the Klondike miners. When packed for carriage it weighs 110 pounds. It is composed of four sides bee ee of fects of alumi- num, and when put up the house contains 190 cubic feet. RANDOM, VERSE. — er ix ot Written for The Eventng,Star. © red cross, blaxed,On-field of white, O heart of love on pure ideal, ‘The great world’s g#ef-nfolnted sight Has found thy coly-syypbols real. ‘Thou standest for the mighty ‘throes Of human sympatpy: prefound, ‘That reach alike ta-friengs and foes; That know go radé or wation’s bound. to Untrammeled thou ‘fy caste and creed; That*man ts man,’ enough for thee: His pain fs shine, thy chance’ his need, Thy care his dole t mubjery. Where'er our country’s éandard goes Its shadow thou, till tumults cease# Where’er the trumpet’s war-blast blows Like echo sweet thy flag of peace. A marsbaled boat thy army stands, Untiring tn its pledged relief, Responsive te the high commands Of duty—its accepted chief. Wherever suffering lifts her voice, In wars or devastations dread, There ye have made’ Your ready choice, Ye tollers ‘neath this cross of red. ‘Tho ills of soul or flesh ye meet In service without stint or price; Death's “‘Dolorosa’’ knows your feet Pain’s “Calvary” sees your sacrifice. Yo tread within the footsteps sore Of Him who healed ‘tn Galilee, Who said, ‘This shall ye do, and more, Fulfilling God's own ministry.”* AMELIA WOODWARD TRUESDELL. San Francisco, September, 1898. ————-<e0— Glamour. Elfzabeth Wilder in the Atlantic Monthly. O wonder days when heart and I were young, And all the world was radiant and new; ‘When every little common tlower that grew {uterpreted to me an unknown tongue, Or seemed a feiry bell that Jate had rung Its silver peal across the morning dew, When skies were tapeatries of Hving bine, And stars a mesh of jewels overhung! Now ts my happy youth ‘ui‘illed, and T Am come to mine inheritance of pain; Yet docs the brightness of the days gont by Still cast a glory over bill and plain; Stl can [ go beneath the open sky And feel the old world young and strange agein! ———_+ + _ Wheeler ut Santiago. James Lindsay Gordon in the Times-Democrat. Into the thick of the fight he went, pallid and sick and wan, Borne In an ambulance to the front, a ghostly wisp of a man; But the fighting soul of a fighting man, approved in the long ago, Went to the front in that ambulance, and the body of Fighting Joe. Out from the front ther were coming beck, smit- ten of Spanish sbelis— Wounded boys from the Vermont bills and the Ala- bama dels; “Put them into this ambulance; I'll ride to the front,”” he said; And he climbed to ‘the saddle and rode right on, that little old ex-confed. From end to end of the long blue ranks rose up the ringing cheers, And many a powder-blackened face was furrowed with sudden tears, As With flashing eyes and gleaming sword, and hatr and beard of saow, Into the hell of shot and shall rode little ola Fight ing Joe: Sick with feve. and racked with pain, he could not stay away, For he heard the song of the yester-years in the mouthed cam He hea re: 78 in the calling soug oF the guns thore was work for him to do, , Where his country's best dood splasbed and flowed "round the old Red, White and Blue. Fevered body and hero heart! ‘This Union's heart to you wes BL Beats out in love and reverence—and to each dear boy In blue ag Who stood or ell "mid GieSthot and shell, and cheered in tho face af the foe, As, wan and white, to tye hart of the fight rede little old Fighting Joe St ea ot The Bewildered Guest. I was not asked if I shoufi Ike to come. I have not seen my_h since I came, Or had a word of welcome in his nanie. Some say that we shall ee him, and some aes we sbali ae el te and then know 1y we were lay €1 am to stay [hare not the itentdthad txone, they gay, Was ever told when he should come or go. But every now and then there bursts upon ‘Phe song and mirth, a, table noise, ee sobs, that strikes our & sound of shrieks and then, sore one Is gone. Jors Dumb in our breast ‘They say we fhieet nity." None Knows where or when, ; We kuow Wwe shall hot meet him here again, .—WM. DEAN HOWELLS, SO Youth and Love. Joscph P. Galton m thy Philadelphia Times, Youth and Love fell ont cne day, Said Youth to Love: “I'll go my way And leave you broken-he red, TN go through I'fe withou: your aid; T'll gaze on neither man no: maid’ — And foolishly they parted. Of went haughty Youth a one; He bummed a tune in mery tone And never looked bebind him; While Love, at heme, was sad and sore, And longed for merry Yout) once more, Ales! she could uot find atm! But Youth had not been welking long Before he hushed his merty song— His heart was full of sorrow. Ho found {t hard to stay sway From Love, if only for a diy— He came back on, the mo: row. For Love and Youth apart would dle Like flowers without dew or sky— They'd fade if they woul. sever! As long ag there ts tide ant tme In every land, in every cline, Youth and Love will be tuge-her. A Welcome Tule. Margaret EF. Sangster in Harper's Weekly. All along the woodland ways And in tho lonesome thicket Today we hear the merriment Of katydid and ericket, They tell us, and we are refofced ‘The wise musicians know It ‘That coming acon, they sing in tune, And some white morn will show As sure as fate, from Nature's hand, The secret never just, To this uncomfortable land Will safe arrive, the frost. —_+e-____ A Recipe for Success. ae tae Be Prospered so? How Js it I havo roughout the hull "1 : vane alt of my ka-reor jest one loug intellijunce, youn; 3 g . Toflags_ SUB wan; that's all. 1 reason an’ "Tis Jest Intell! , Taleo unce en’ brains an’ straightout in- Wren I git up I'm alh toe ip I'm allus sure to dress me right Or put my drawers on wi praca wan rong side out, or hey my For them are signs you'll hey good luck; an eddi- cated man Knows all them signs, an‘ connie aieee ant shapes his life on a T've strewed ol’ hess-shoes down an Omen’ Tike a mile, Seren ee ’ out an’ hunt ‘em up a-every little while; But if’you tn’ a ooeahoe, wy, you're sure %6 Prosper then; A fac’ that is famllyer to eddicated men. A cat's tail piintin’ to'rde the fire, 2t is an awful But I hey counteracted {¢ with every cat of mine; If my cat's tall should pint that way it woulda’t give me scares; i 4d ra i back Yan’ ee aie an’ simply fall up- It’ sree saan to fall’ay-stdirs, an’ counteracts cat; An’ that's the way I shape my life, I balance this I see Your eres bad sign, kvow—might scare a But Tajesteweteee oe the!'moon rise over my right shoulder, > SB ‘The moon it counteracts;;the:xrows; one balances the other, At For one is Jest wiped out, Zou see, an’ canceled the night; it don’t give me Thear a oon how! in a owt the: right-han’ side the I balance Tt 6; lance it by gittin’® bed. a An’ 0 I've prospered alt! rby ite by jest a Uttle Intellijance, young man, that's all, an’ intellec’ ‘an’ braias, "Tis ignorune> that makes men fail. An’ wisdom— nothin’ less— Inlightenmunt au’ knowledge, air, can bring a man ‘success, —SAM WALTER FOss. ——+e+ Two Kinds of People. Ella Wheeler Wilcox in the Denver Republican. No; the two kinds of people on earth I mean Are the people who lift and the people who lean. ‘Wherever wo il find the world’s masses Are siways divided ii ‘in just these two classes. And, oddly enough, 4, I There te oaly one lifter to twenty who Teun.” In which class are you? Are you easing the load Of overtaxed lifters who toll down the Foad? leaner, lets others bear gf portion of labor ad worey and care? => THE CZAR'S PERSONALITY Great Power Exercised by the Author of the Peace Manifesto. ~ ‘The Superb Independence a Courage of the Young Emperor. From the London Telegrapb. What makes the new initiative at St. Petersburg so serious, so commanding, so different from all previous vain and transi- tory attempts to reconcile Christian pringi- ples with Christendom, is the person who utters it. Some people have foolishly call- ed the czar’s manifesto “Cobdenite."" Cob- den, at the height of his influence multi- plied a thousandfold, could never have awakened a thousandth part of the echo which rolls back on our ears from all cor- ners of the civilized world from the simple words of a young man, proclaiming what everybody already knew about the waste- fulness and danger of the armed peace. This is because no man, old or young, In all the earth holds anything Mke the pos!- tion of Nicholas the czar. In a certain real sense Russia is not gov- erned by the emperor for the time being, who ts her nominal ruler. She is governed first of all by tradition, finding !ts most concrete expression in the will of Peter the Great, which, if vague and elastic, like our own constitution, is éven more powerful to constrain and enjoin. Next she is gov- erned by the Orthodox Church and the army, both in their spheres despotic, and capable of secretly dictating to the boldest Ministers and the most independent sov- ereigns. Lastly, though without direct rep- resentation, the merchants, the aristocracy and the Inarticulate but omnipotent masses of cattle-like peasantry help to govern Rus- sia—military policy being largely in the hands of the colonels on the frontier, who are‘in turn played with by palace adven- turers. But to each and all of these the czar, the central figure, the focus of this barbaric Slav system, !s indispensable; and, in spite of all the checks provided by those national lines of steel upon which “the Little Father” must move and live, the per- sonal power and authority of the ruling czar imply the most real, solid and stu- pendous individual prerogatives ever exer- cised by a potentate. When some one asked the first Nicholas who was truly the greatest person, next to himseif, in all Russia, it was merely a can- did and faithful reply which that czar gave in saying: “He is the most considerable person in all Russia to whom I happen at the time to be speaking.” Wealthier than any brother or sister sovereign in the world; absolute master of legions which on @ peace footing number over a million; lord of more than one-sixth of the territorial surface of the globe, with subjects of many races and colors amounting to over 120,000,- 000 souls, of whom 80,000,000 are, for pur- Poses of management, as homogeneous as rice grains, the embodled center of that stupendous imperial sphere is immeasur- ably above ordinary human standards, and wields an incredibly vast influence. What is it to such a voice whether its accents please Rerlin, or suit Paris, or soothe Vien- na, or gratify Rome, or terrify Pekin and Constantinople? It can, at one breath, lift, as it has just lifted, a question of history out of the region of theory into one of hard fact and practice—and the chief point, therefore, about this new and sudden mani- festo in favor of peace and disarmament consists in the certainty that it is the czar’s, own utterance; not that of a statesman, or a philanthropic society, or of a church, or of a mob. I have seen this young autocrat many times, and in close proximity. Never was power so stupendous embcdied in form £o simple, gentle and preposessing. Everybody is familiar, by pictures at least, with the appearance of Nickolas II, who inherits, by his mother, Dagmar of Denmark, the type of princely grace and “‘bonhomie” to which English people have grown accustomed by the comely offspring of the illustrious sis- ter, Alexandra. It is a face which, whether you admire it or not, you must love, you must trust, you must ever pity, so clear and plain it grows on you while you gaze that the mind behind it and the heart beat- ing in that exalted breast feel the re- Sponsibilities of that tremendous power a hundred times more than its pleasures or glories. I saw the young czar crowned in the encient chapel of the Kremlin. I was al- most within reach of him at that supreme moment when, after the holy anointing, end the solemn ceremonies of the confes- sions of faith, and the proclamation of his titles, the youthful autocrat—he Is but thirty years old today—placed on the brow of his beautiful, sad consort the diamond crown just removed from his own, while she, or her knees, buried her sobbing face in her mighty lord’s mantle, and rose, love- ly in her imperial trouble, the greatest lady of two continents. I knew then that from natures so obviously noble noble deeds and thoughts would spring—if the awful world of splendor and necessity !n which the pair ™ust live did not hinder. I am not in the least surprised at the high courage and superb independence of this young man’s act, which comes near being the test and bravest thing done this century. Stfll_ less need we be astonished if aware how Brit- ish in love of peace and progress the high- est are in the Russian court, how habit- ually the daughter of the Princess Alice and the grandson of King Christian of Denmark talk English to each other, and how dear to both {s the character and are the counsels of our own beloved queen. It is an old joke at St. Petersburg and Mos- cow that, more than once, in the sitting of state ministers, when something uuwel- come at Osborne or Windsor was being mooted, the Emperor of all the Russias has quietly murmured, “Ne derangez pas grandmaman. i There {s évery reason, therefore, why this sublime experiment of civilization, whether Practical or not, should be cordially wel- comed and earnestly furthered in England and by all Englishmen. Of all ‘iving per- sonages the young czar was, by his power, place and authority, the very man to ven- ture the attempt, in the personal sincerity of which no 3arcasms and no cynicisms ought to make clear-headed people disbe- leve. —_—_____-e-_______ HE DID NOT COME BACK. But in the Morning All the Trenches Were Dug. From the Atlanta Constitution. When the American line had fought its way to the top of the hills at El Paso and San Juan and Caney, General Wheeler 1s- sued an order that every command should dig trenches in preparation for the con- filet that he knew would break out again in the morning. But the soldiers had thrown away most of their trenching tools during the fierce rifle charges, and aa dark- ness fell upon the scene of battle they threw themselves upon the ground and went to sleep from sheer exhaustion. Ad- jutant Hood of the Rough Riders, noting this condition of affairs, rode over to Gen- eral Wheeler’s tent and informed the good old veteran that the men were played out. Wheeler at the time was lying upon his cot more dead than alive, but there was a smile upon his lips and his never-failing good humor twinkling in his eyes, when Adjutant Hood said: “General, I’m afraid our men can’t dig the trenches. “What men?” asked the general. “The cavalry division,” said the adjutant. General Wheeler sat up in bed and began pulling on his boots. “Send me the man,” he directed. ‘What man?” asked the adjutant. “The man who can’t dig trenches.” “But it is not one man; {t is many men. ‘They are just played out.” “But you can surely find one man who Says he can’t dig the trench. I only want one. Go, get him and bring him to me.” “But there are—” “I don’t care how many there are. Go, get me one.” ‘The adjutant had never faced such a man as Wheeler before, and he did not know just what to make of the conversation. The little old general was as smooth and Suave and courteous as could be, and Hood had nothing to do but to ride back to the line. In some way he managed to round up a colored trooper belonging to the 9th Cavalry, and brought him back to the divi- sion headquarters. He stood looking sheep- ishly at the ground when Wheeler addressed him. “Are“you the man who says he can't dig these rece — ioe ee as ‘The negro’s feet shui on the ground. “I’se one of ‘em, boss, but there's ‘The general stopped him and walked out of his tent. “You can go to sleep now, my man, and Qs Til go up and dig your trench for you. When the sun comes up tomorrow morn- ing the Spaniards are going to open on us, and every man who isn’t protected is not only in danger of being killed, but will be unable to help maintain our own position The trenches have to be dug, an¢ if you are unable to dig yours I'll just go out and do it for you. Where's your pick?” With the most business-like air in world Wheeler slid into his coat and tun toward the big cavairyman. The la eyes opened as he saw the proc and they began to buige out when the gen- eral motioned to him to lead the way to his camp. For half a minute his voice stuck in his throat, and then he “Boss, you ain't fit to dig no tr ‘ If they done got to be dug Vil just nataral- Ty do it myself. ‘I'm dog tired, but that ain't work for you. Wheeler stopped and looked at the with a flicker of amusement in his ey the i ngs, man “T know it isn’t work for me to do," he said, “but 1 am going to need soldiers in the morning, and I am going to Save y0ur life if possible. Do you think now that you can dig the trench?” The negro started up the hill without a word. Then the general turned to Adju- tant Hood, with a voice as pleasant as sunshine in May. “He seems to have changed his mind,” said. “Now, you go another man who can’t dig the trenche: The adjutant bowed and rode off. He never came back. In the morning the trenches were dug. THE NOBILITY OF JAPAN. Rapid Lnucrease in the Number of Peers in Recent Years. From the Japan Weekly Times. Seeing that the peerage is a class that ought to be honored and respected, the Osaka Mainichi considers it a pity that in several instances members of the privileged class have acquitted themselves in such a way as to bring disgrace upon themselves. The journal fears the cases cited will in- crease in proportion to the multiplication of peers. According to our contemporary there are at present 719 noble families in Ja- pan, egaiast a total number of 8,400,000 fam- ilies. Notwithstandifig this insignificant ra- tio in comparison with the total families In the empire, the number of the aristocratic families shows a striking rate of increase. When the peerage law was first enforced, in 1884, the nobles were eatimated at families. It is therefore clear that 2 families have been added during the last fourteen years. Allhough this large addi- tion ts due to the creation of a number of new peers in recognition of services ren- dered by them in connection with the late war with China, the future tendency to in- crease can easily be anticipated. The jour- nal reluctantly declares that the muitipil- cation of the nobility will involve an in- crease of peers unable to maintain the dignity worthy of the exalted ciass. The daimio (former feudal lords) nobles are placed in such circumstances as are favor- able to keep up their dignity, being rela- tvely well off and supported by their for- mer retainers. But, on the other hand, the kuge (former court nobles) or other nobles are continually subject to influences threatening their corruption and degenera- tion. In order that a wholesome moral tone be preserved among the nobility of this coun- try the Osaka Mainichi proposes that the authorities should adopt the following pro- visions; (1) That if a nobleman fail to re- cover the credit he has lost by his un- worthy conduct the title should not be al- lowed to pass to his heir. (2) That if a newly created peer decline to make the honor successive such request shall be ac- cepted. Further, the journal suggests that the custom to elevate a worthy man to the Peerage when he is on his deathbed should be abclished, and that the distinction should be conferred at a time when he is still able to appreciate it and to decide whether the horor should or should not be inherited by his posterit It is to be understood that our Osaka contemporary recommends the measure as a means of purifying the pa- trician atmosphere, not because the nobles alone are the protectors of the imperial householé—which would be an absurd and antiquated notion—but because the future of the nobility inspires the journal with uneasiness, ——_+ e+ —____ “LOBSTERIN’.” A Profitable Industry, Although Difi- cult to Follow. From the Chicago Record. One of the most profitable Industrie: down on tho coast of Maine is “lobsterin It is a laborious occupation, and those who follow it have to endure much hardship and exposure and many perils from the sea. Lobsters are caught on rocky bottoms in “traps” or “‘pots,"” which are made of hick- ory saplings after the fashion of a crock- ery crate. At the two small ends hcles are arranged with spikes of flexible wood run- ning to a focus, s0 that the lobster, tempted to enter by a bait hung from the center, firds it impossible to get out. The most common bait are codfish heads and fish which are too plentiful and unpopular to be salable in market. The pots are sub- merged in two or three fathoms of water With stono sinkers, and their location marked by short logs of wood fastened to them by ropes and allowed to float on the surface. Twice a day, at sunrise and sunset, the out and thrown into a chest in the boat, with a lot of seawsed to keep them fresh and give them “something to chaw on.” After the pots heve all been emptied tho lobsters are all taken to a large “float” at some convenient spot, where they are transferred to a tank and kept until called ‘or. Lobsterers who are conventent to towns sell most of their catch in the local market. Those who are working at distant and iso- lated spots along the coast are visited every week or ten days by tugs fittel up- with largo tanks or reservoirs, capable of holding from 10,000 to 15,000 lobsters. These vessels patrol regularly up and down the coast, ard when their tanks are full drop in at Boston or New York and unload. Gangerous. He generally lives alone in a ‘The life of the lobsterer is lonely, as well as dangerous. He generally lives ‘alone in a cabin on a rocky island, cooks his own meals of fish and bacon, and spends his days catching bait for his traps. Nearly all of them have lobster “farms,” where the undersized lobsters and those with spawn are imprisoned in salt water ponds to grow and breed. The,law protects the traffic by imposing a heavy fine upon the sale of small ones. —_—_+-e-_____ Queer Stery of Two Lakes. From the London News, Tho Wetternsee in Sweden, like so many other lakes, has long enjoyed the local rep- utation of being a bottomless pit. The Swedish scientists have now destroyed the venerable legend, for in the measurements taken a few days ago they have success- fully demonstrated that the greatest depth of the lake fs orly 119 meters. There still remains, however, a series of mysteries Which science must be content to leave un- selved—at least for a time. It is not only ®& legendary belief, but there is a quasi- scientific ground for the queer supposition that ving creatures, animal and vegeta- ble, can and d., make journeys to and fro ‘ween the high northern Lake of Wet- tern and the South German Lake of Con- stance. This bold conclusion hag been part- ly justified by the appearance of exactly the same fauna, and even of the same an- imal life, in the Swedish and the Swabian intand seas. It is even asserted that when- ever there fs a stcrm on tie Lake of Con- stance the Lake of Wettern begins sym- pathetically to roll and swell, and that the southern lake Is similarly moved by any agitation in the distant northern lake. The Kleine Zeitung soberly declares this sympa- thetic phenomenon to be a known fact, but censiderately gdds that we have to wait some time for the rational explanation of it. it. No Distinguishing Marks. From the Chicago Tribune. pots ace visited, and the lobsters are taken | LIFE IN THE ARCTIC Mistaken Ideas abe Conditions in the Far North. ae eS EFFECTS OF COLD AND DARKNESS How Men and Animals Adapi Themselves to Circumstances. paar = OVER TRACKLESS WASTES ree F. A. Cook, M.D, in the Medical Record. There is such a perverted impression in the popular mind about the actual arctic conditions that I always find it @iMcult to impress my listeners with a real knowl- edge of polar phenomena. The surround- ings are, of course, wild hough to satiety the most savage longings, but it must not be inferred that the temperature of the air is always below zero, nor that the land is completely buried by perennial snow, nor that the sea is always covered by paleo- crystic ice floes or mountainous ice masses During the long arctic night such cond!- tions are fairly constant, but for much of the year the genial rays of the sun are felt. Our headquarters (the first Peary expe- dition) in 1891 were pitched on the north- West coast of Greenland, near the se nty- eighth allel of latitude, which is about midway between the north pele and the arctic circle. In this latitude the seasons are briefly as follows: A long nightiess Summer day of nearly four months and an extended dayless winter night of neariy four month: Thes ds are separat a from each other by a season of advancing night during the autumn, when the sun gradually reced: but reappears for a Shorter pertod every succeeding day, until it uly remains below the horiz: on Oc- tober 25. In the spring there is a similar period, but it is the dawn of the coming jay. The sun reappears on Februery 14 It first remains only a few minutes. but each succeeding day it rises higher and Sweeps more of the southern sky, until about May 1 it remal and then the long arctic very glory, begins. above the horlgon day, with its sil- Cold and Darkness. The specific effects of cold and darkness and lght are difficult of analysis, more so among the members of our party than among the native people and animals. The effect of isolation, of change of food, cloth- ing and habits of life are so potent that any physical or mental peculiarities must necessarily include these elements. The withdrawal of heat is so gradual that the animal organisms have an oppor- tunity to protect themselves. During the summer (the only time when the extreme forth is accessible) the temperature and fome of the meteorological conditions are much like our March and April weather. Incredible myriads of birds in summer plumage, fresh from the temperate zone, how congregate on the off-lying islands and moss-covered rocky cliffs. But with the first warning of the polar night, as the sun drops below the southern sky they Quickly emigrate to a more congenial land, leaving apparently Lifeless the ceid shores which have been animated by their wild shrilis of love and joy. Their pewers and instincts are such that they have only to seeh the lands which are best adapted to | thelr manner of living. Many of the forms | of sea life are able to do the same. But and all other iand animals must re- n and become adapted to the changing litions. The polar bear « summer to prot anges his fur during the him from the expected cold next winier, but lite ts to him an aw- ful struggle during the jong night. Never- theless he carly develops an ability to fast for prolonged periods, which is a faculty Possessed by all other arctic land life. The nearly complete covering of the sea by the winter ice deprives him of his accustomed source of food. Hence he must either hi- bernate or find his way far out over a lifeless sea of ice to the open water, whera varying fcytunes may put him in posses- sion of an unwury Seal But with all bruin’s Ingenulty and hard-earned adapta- bil iong petiods of famine are always be- fore him. Can Withstand Hanger. The native people, like the animals, have evolved a system of life and adaptation to their habitat which could not be much im- proved by civilized aid. They are able to withstand long periods of famine like the Geer and bear with no apparent injury, ex- cept a loss of bodily wemht. Their eu- taneous circulation is always profuse. ‘fhe tauscular outlines are largely obiiterated by an envelopment of fibro-fatty tiesus like that of the seal and wairus. The Intestinal capacity is greatly increased to afiord greater surface for the absorption of nitro- genous and fatty foods. I shall always remember our camps while traveling over the trackless wastes of snow during this period, particularly the stormy scenes. We undressed in the cpen air, crept into our sleeping bags, and with a rare de- light stretched out upon the virgin fields of snow for a long sleep. There was noth- ing but the high blue sky above us, and often there were many hundred feet of snow and ice beneath us. At first, after reclining, we were nearly stiff from cold, but this was soon followed by a glowing Lreaction, when we were conscious of bound: ing streams of heated blood sent throbbing through tense arteries. We feli doubly the wild pleasures of primitive life, as we heard the rearing storms and felt the snow- charged winds blasting against our pro- tected bodies. Comforts In the Arctic. Such storms always brought us to sharp consclousners of the superb animal com- forts, as comforts gu in the arctic. All of this served to enhance our admiration for the wonderful mechanisms of the human body. Nothing could bring one to a keener realization of this than our experience. ‘To feel the heart force heat and life to the surface while resting over and sometimes under a blanket of protecting snow, is to feel the electric glow which for the want of a better term we call life. In conclusion, I wish to emphasize the fact that it ts not the low temperature of the arctic from which explorers suffer. It is the long and dntense darkness and the inability to carry suffictent food and ac- customed aids to personal comfort. But this is casily counterbalanced by the acute passions of life as they are brought out by the prolonged noonday splendor after rest- ing in the long darkness. The white lights and dark shades entering into the soul make life a long dream—the spirit now effervescing, then smothered again, almost frozen, only to be thawed out for an ascent into an atmosphere of heaveniy purity. In my judgment, polar grandness lifts the mind’s horizon, and, as a whole, the experi- ence affords a wild, weird and poetic exist- ence long to be remembered. Siesta nda The Drift of a From St. Nicholas, If a derelict is full of lumber she is Mke a rock. If water-logged, these silent free- booters cannot be sunk unless broken ‘n such a manner that the cargo is released. Fire has been found effective in destroy- ing derelicts. It was successful in all but four cases in foriy-five. One of the failures was with the Fennie E. Wolston, an Amer- ican schooner, one of the most remarkable Gerelicts of which we have record. She was abandoned October 15, 1881, between capes of Virginia and Hatteras. She érift- Derelict. t ef about half-way across the Atlantic (the hydrographic office recetved numerous re- ports of her), her course veering south, until she was ebout to the Ma- February,