Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, June 9, 1895, Page 11

i THE OMAHA DAILY BEE: gU—NDAY 11 APAARALAL L AASARAARAA THE GRAY RABBIT. RARANPAR AL IO PNSINRINY | ! her moorings. moved and front taffrali of the boat, one saw that Kon- stantinos and his guardian had begun their When the child the carpet w propped against re the | “voyage over seas to Greece.” | The light summer breezes from the bay — | caressed the younger traveler's hair, and | 88| soon aroused “him from his slecp. He Rare Shooting with Bow and Arrow in the | started, raised himself in the “sword-cut's” ' ' Thickets of Indiana. | arms, and cast a quick, bewildered glance N | over ‘the sunlit waves of a bay as beautiful | a8 any the wide world over. | "Not since the day which brought him, a | g L & | baby, to New York had he left the shores (Copyright, 1895, by Maurice Thomyson) | And 80 anxious was I to examine the bird | of Manhattan fsland; and rarely had he You remember, no doubt, what I told you | that in walking briskly along I almost | strayed far from the nolsome purlieus of about the skill with which certain birds and | 8tebped on a hare, which went away from me | Roosevelt street. No wonder that the glory four-footed animals baffle the sportsman’s ""]“”'”4“’ rate. Will was quick as a flash, | of the scene—the silver sheet of water, vision and render themselves almost undis- | 4, (WHE il TECER WAGE PN Most wondertul | spangled with salls, and dotted with boat coverable, even In comparatively open ground; | “'Fa saw' the hare Eoing Ike a bouncing | Si0,Park—the dappied green shores far be - still, It may be somewhat unexpected when | ball, offering him what wportsmen call & | Jorc e, on blue vault above—no wander 3 : L that it all dazzled eyes accustomed only to _ 1 say that a hare can perform this same | “uartering” whot. With a single compound | na endless gloom of the Greek quarter. trick in the snow, and that, too, without | motion he whipped arrow from his| “pucuddenly it flashed across the soul of covering Itselt up or really hiding itselt at | Juiver, set it on_ the string and drew his| gonstantinos that he had seen all this won- bow. At the highest point of a long jump | g v g all. It is this trick of the hare, or to USe | the well sent missile chught (he hare to tha | drous vision of loveliness before—seen it in the popular name, gray rabbit, which adds | neck and whirled it through & double | Biawier Sorbit, i, e day dreams, In the & keen delight to hunting it in winter, when | sommersault. No matter how many Poor | and' in- the sones of his belosed mother a fresh fall of snow has whitened the flelds | Shots the archer may make, one or two 1ike |~ This—this was Greece! 3 and woods, that will always.be remembered. When the spirit of a child sings the voice Some ycars ago Will and I were spending | We killed more than 4 dozen hares that | is but its echo. = Konstantinos uttered a great a part of ‘the winter seacon at an isolated | MOFAINg, but we probably shot a hundred | cry of joy and raised his thin arms to the farm house in Indlana. The building stood | Limes to do it, the game was 8o wild and | smiling heavens. Then, with the inborn elo near the center of a large and somewhat | Fan so reckl It is not the bag, how- | quence of the Greek, he poured forth burn- neglected estate, where thickets of brush- | €Ver, which affords the archer his chief de- | ing words of praise and thanks to the Al- wood and pasture fields grown over “m.;“'»'lw but rather the freedom, the action, the | mighty who had granted him the boon w{, patohes of blackberry britrs aftorded just the | Pursuit. What can be o good as pure air, | beholding his “native land.” | BOrt of cover attractive to hares. Our host | VIgorous excrcise and the ancient liberty of A& for him they called “the sword" he ! was a whole-souled man, who had but lately | the hunter? 3 could not sce the sunlight for his tears purchas=d the place, and he was already be MAURICE THOMPSON. Ui i bl e e ginning vigorously to overhaul anl clean it TAND OF & Most of that summer the pair remained up; inde:d, it was his operations as a tidy LI I upon Staten Istand. he sword-cut's” pow- and progressive farmer that called our a i ers were taxed tao utmost in humoring tention fo the almost innumerable hares, | HHOW “Sword Cut” Carried Konstantinos, the | jjs ward's whims, without telling a false Every thicket he destroyed disturbed them DAUULLS L hood, for our rough soldier had a stern sense and they were seen scudding forth out of | In the Greek quarter of New York, which | of honor. But Konstantinos nceded no cicer llyrlush ta p.:ln: (flunl Ir;(wr Inlnmu.ul \\vm.l the | etretches around Roosevelt street toward the ',u\- arlrr-r all. IH|~ keen imagination trans- aborers o work with scythe and ax. | g ge iHese A Aribeb ormed every locality from American to Of course we could not let silp stch a chance | Sast river, there dwelt with his kindred & | Gioek, Whenever they went for a sall, as as this, 50 we went for our archery tackle | certain boy by name Konstantinos Kostan- | they frequently did, they were bound for which was boxed up In a distant town zere. “Scios” or “‘Delos” or *‘Ithaca” or even dis- Meantime a fall of about three inches of | o the few Americans who succeeded in |tant “‘Crete.” They had traversed '‘Sparta snow was followed by zero weather with af o0 5 ay through the metwork of | 2nd found a “Corinth” and an ‘Athens.” cloar sky and a whistling northwest wind '8 thelr way through the metwork of|yn gnort, Konstantinos drank in the Grecian Nothing could have suited us better than this | streets to the Kostanzere home it seemed | {llusion to the full. But he drank in some- !‘nmp\"( things; for ngn‘"huw \oF nn;.r h:' strange that an urchin so weak and puny | thing else, far better for his health, and that shooting never goes off happily unless the | (poig gomine fro, to Fats was plenty of ozone. When he finally be Weather I8 cold, and yot it is very dificult | AhOUId spring from a stock so fine, for the | ooy omogiol “(as all boys, old or young et s ok father Kostanzere was as splendid a specl- | aro sure to do, soon or lat), anyone could men of the Greek islander as one might find | see that that was the only sickness about in a sail frcm Cyprus to Stamboul; while | him. His holiday had cured our weakling. the boy's mother must have been rarely || ThAt was a great and irimphant Bome- beautiful in her earlier days. Poor, little | velt street. All, or nearly all “Little Gresce Konstantinos, however, was a frail flower, | turned out to receive the travelers; and Kon- indeed. Perhaps the “twice breathed airs’ | stantinos felt like another Ulysses. of the great city had withered his natural [ That night, amid the familiar clouds of constitution. His cheeks were haggard, his | toumbaki smoke, he told the long and varied shoulders unnaturally rounded, his whole | story of his wanderings, appealing ever and aspect, save, only as regarded his eyes |anon for confirmation fo *The sword-cut.” Spiritiens hnd Nlokly; As for the latter worthy he had forced upon But his eyes! Those magnificent, dusky | him more toumbaki and mastica than he orbs almost atoned for all the rest of Kon- | could smoke or drink in a month. His pocl: stantinos’ deficiencies. Especially would they | Lon 1 the Greelt auariol wos Bor gleam and flash when his father or some |y it - batkend ? sk other Greek conversed of the country they [ “SopENTe g iehed nis tale they oy wore meen scudding forth ol tangles and briar clumps to handle bows and arrows when your eyes are stinging, and your fingers numb, your nose. We were up and out before sun first morning after our bows arrivy ter if the air was gray with fro Under our feet the snow cru squeaked, as it always does whej mometer reminds it of its dut farmer's cattle looked at us forl they blamed us for winter's pinc| ness. But what we wanted to whether or not the hares had the night just past; for if they ha be sure to get some shooting, an move was toward the thickets to wit you to say were any fresh tracks in the snow. A hare has four good feet, but its tracks form a triangle, as if it were tl and by this form the hunter ne know ‘at a glance the footprints Rabbit” from those of every ot We soon found plenty of them of gin of a buttonwood thicket, and had quickly chosen one to follow. You might imagine It a very ance to track a hare in the snow sitting, or rather crouching, in you have much to learn before ut of brush h accuracy ar ears stift nothing of nrise on the ed, no mat- st crystals. nched ana n the ther- y, and the ornly as it hing mean- know was run during d we should nd our first see if there hree-legged ver fails tc of “Bre't her animal n the mar. each of us y perform-'| and find it its bed but you can do this simple thing, When a ha alone you may follow it in o without much “trouble. This, re runs all pen ground however, it very rarely does. As a rule the track will lead to other tracks and get al with them, so that you must be an expert At the same time, instead of to keep right. running in the open ground, as a dating hare should, the frisky game chooses I mixed up n accommo- to go through every patch of briers and into nd around every-tuft of old we gled vines that it can find. tracks will suddenly come to an is the last one. You look in v other. But where Is your hare? be at the end of his run. Wit gaze you cover every inch of sno around. Not a track or a sign. spot; or mayhap he suddenly spr and flew away! seurries off at racehorse speed cotton ball tail bobbing and twin Sometimes the Surely he must as if the hare might have evaporated on the ds and tan- end. Here vain for an- h- searching w for yards It looks outed wings But while you are stand- | ing there in bewilderment out bounds your game from a neat form in a weed tuft and . his white nklng as he goes. For shooting In the snowy season we use scarlet-feathered arrows which, strike into the ground, look like t ing in the snow drifts and are conseque very easy to find. point is best for hare A broad, 0oting ar when they ulips blooy heavy steel nd the shaft hould be stout and made seasoned hickory. As a rule t rarely seen at long range, yow of tough, well- he game Is r shots not often beng over thirty yards, than twenty. Will and 1 had become very expert usually less in tracking the hare and finding it but frequently enough it us first. Sometimes the hare startled out of its hiding plac fitteen or twenty yards and st sitting down upon its haunct ears erect and its round black open. This is the moment for shot; but you must know how tc you alm directly at the hare ten will not hit it; for when your bow hare makes a quick, short leap and strikes where the game was but would s with its long in its form; see or hear when 1t is will run p suddenly, wide utiful eves a be o do it to one you recolls the 1 your arrow 13 not 1t | Now the expert archer can for attitude of the hare just in whi ord it will jump, and he aims ac to have his arrow hit preeisely at the right spot. It is a nice calculation; b learn to make It with intuitive e: the fowler does In a'ming ahead bird. One of the most dificult feats however, is to hit a hare going al You might imagine it no harder t shoot a swift bird on the wing; b running hare does not keep a 1 most of the game birds do In long high bounds disconcert you and prevent etell by the at direction ing ut you soon xactness, as of a flying in archery. t full speed 0 do than to ut it fs. A evel lne as fiylng; its any accurate aim taking. killed hares when the: the air at their swftest gait. get warm, no matter how frigid weather, especlally when recollect one incid sport, a shot made by Will in corner of a wood. I saw him gharp halt, plare a moment at a pokeberry Wweeds beside a half morning. 1 aim. 1 knew slon of his face that he was than he ought to be, but he shot the event proved, made was & cock-pheasant | wrapped in a Turkish carpet, was carried grouse-which he had chanced to see lying on board the Staten Island ferry boat, just plote in Letween the weeds and the old log. as that ungalnly vessel was about to leave Still we have often were fairly splitting It {s very exciting exercise and you soon the game plentiful as we found it on that crisp winter caying log, and then raise his bow, draw and Ly some indescribable expres- more_excited may be the is as ent of our the brushy come (0 a tuft of old buried de- had left beyond the seak. Had he known better he might have given ail his patriot- ism to the adopted land; but being unable to read or write, and in most ways un- learned, he exhausted all his love of country upon the faraway Greece. He knew, in a vague, childish way, about the old Greek heroes and the great deeds they had done; and he could croon most of the old Romaic ballads which his mother loved to sing. The Kostanzere family kept a cafe, which was much frequented of Greeks and Syrians. It stood in the dinglest of by-streets and flaunted over a moldy front the sounding title “Hotel Thermopylae.” The ‘“hotel” was only two stories high, and the entire ground floor was occupied by a large eating room and a small kitchen. [t was the great Joy of Konstantinos' soul to sit in the eating Toom and listen to the conversation of his father's guests. He had become a good mixer of toumbaki for the narghilis, or big, long-tubed pipes, which these _visitor smoked after dinner; and It was his little duty to trot around from pipe bowl to pipe bowl bearing pieces of burning charcoal with which he kept hat eastern substitute for tobacco alight. Then he would chop up the lakoumi or powdered sweetmeats “lumps of delight” we western children used to call them) and distribute them among the smokers. Or, if anybody called for mastica, he was accustomed to carry them the yellow liquor on his tiny lacquer tray. During mo- ments of leisure he curled himself up in a corner and drank in the talk Sometimes the smoke clouds in the room ame «o dente (hat one coul | not distingu s’ ces, but Konstantinos knew all the regular grests by their voices. For Instance, old PLilip, the peddler, has a high, thin, quaver- ing accent; and Milos, the dealer in Oriental geods, a fat, unctuous one. The man that they called “*Sword Cut’’—(Konstantinos never knew his real name)—had clearly been a soldier, for he spoke loudly and with de- fon, as a snldier should. The boy's father had a calm, quiet voice, which never failed to make itselt heard through the din, al- though, after the Italians, the Greeks are about the noisiest people in the world. But speaking in whatever manner listed, our little listener cared not so as they talked of Greece (or “Hellas," himself called it), and discussed the present or future of that lovely land. Often while the guests were discussing matters of trade of every life Kon- stantinos would whisper as he lighted their pipes: “Let us talk of our Greece, if you ple Then, perhaps, came a gentle reprimand _from father or mother, but the loud-volced patrons of the cafe took Kon- stantinos' part. “Why may not the boy love Greece?” they asked, and the episode generally ended in scme stirring conversation about Alexander the Great, or Marco Bozarris, or even the modern king, George. Konstantinos was never tired while they spoke on such sub- fects. One day Konstantinos did not appear in the cafe, and to the many anxious Inquiries Father Kostanzere answered that a very wise American doctor had pronounced the child to be in the early stages of decline. “He bids us take him into the air of the country,” explained Mother Kostanzere, “‘but how can we do so? There is the cafe to look after.” The patrons of the establishment rose as one man. Each desired to have the tem- porary care of the child conferred upon him That night, under the hovering clouds of toumbaki smoke, the question -was debated hotly. Finally ‘the man that they called “the sword cut” arose and vigorously made his claim. He pointed out that he alone had no regular trade or business which might suffer by his absence. Then he suggested that the child be sent, in his charge, for & long summer holiday upon Staten island. “If you, good brothers,"” he concluded, *‘de- gire to do your part of the business, you can subscribe money for our trip. After somé demur, and much sly hter over the cunning combination of business with pleasure, which “the sword-cut a mapped vat for hims the proposition was recelved with acclamation. Just then a little, white-dressed figure appeared in the | rifted smoke of the doorway. It was that | of Konstantinos, “Good people ye speak my name they long as he past, sald the boy, “I have heard Why 18 it so?” Father Kostanzere advanced, and lifting his son in hls stalwart arms, explained with tears in his eyes: “These kind friends have decided to join me in sending you and ‘the sword-cut’ for a lovely sea voyage together, | 80 that your health may return and the color to your cheeks.” “A sea voyage!" cried the child, clapping his hands. “What! are we going to Greece?" There was silence, and the guests looked at each other and smiled. “We are surely going to Greece?' re- Iterated Konstantinos. Then, amid approv- ing nods, the man they called “the sword- cut” whispered, “Walt a little, my son You will see for yourselt.” And he winked knowingly at Konstantinos. The boy now felt sure that a journey to Greece was to be his portion. His ideas of distance were hazy in the extreme; and all he knew of his native land's situation was that it lay “over the sea.”” He fell asleep singing a ‘Romaic battle hymn, and sighing for Greece. It was officlally resolved among the patrons of the cafe that to enlighten the boy as to his real destination would be cruel in the extreme. “He thinks he is going to Greece,” quavered old Philip, the peddler— “then let him think so. It will do him good and, soon enough, he may know better. And 50 the matter was settled. with great fine Two days later a slumbering small boy, drank his health, and thca the health of his health; and last, but not least, the health of “Mother Greece,” otherwise Staten Island. Konstantinos is older now, and he ‘“knows better.” Some day he expects to visit Greece the real Greece. Perhaps he may find it a little disappointing after the raptures of the imaginary one, which he discovered sc happily in the bay of New York. LOV RS OF BOOKS, Poor Young Boys and How They Got to e Presidonts. “T wish there never was such a thing in the world as &chool. Confound it all! Books- books, look at that strap full, and here Bob McLean invited us all to Great Falls on a picnic! Hang it!” “Why, John, wh up this morning?” asked his friend as they met on the way to school. Nothing's up! Its all down! I wish the teachers had the smallpox and a yellow flag waved out of the High school door this minuts o here, John, you are in a temper now Don't go to school ‘till you feel better. Who knows but ou or I may be president some day, but we'll have to love books and study to be anything." John slammed himself down on the steps of the capitol, put his hand to his head, and his elbow on his knee, while the morning sun- shine fell like gold on his discontentel face. His father was a man of wealth and stirring business. John was expected to become a scholar, and to spend many years preparing for some profession. Charley Wilson, his chum and seat ate, wos a student, without money, wighout influ- ence. He ran errands during the vacations for officials at the capitol, and learned wise, studious things, as the birds learn to sing He was fond of John, and had a great influ- ence over him. Today he felt discouraged. “DId_you ever hear about the poor young men who used to carry every book he could find to the field and study and read while he worked ?” “0f course 1 have. Father is alwa ing me about poor young boys, and how got to be presidents!” “Now, John, you can’t guess who this boy was? He lived in a log house, among the wolves, wae too poor to go to school, but at Jast did walk nine miles a day to one for a little while. He worked on a farm, stulied by firelight, ground the corn and fed the horses, built the fires and cooked, and earned 31 cents a day “I say he was a fool!” muttered John. “You wait and see! He split 400 rails for a woman who sold him cloth for a pair of trousars, 400 rails to a yard, and she dyed it with walnut bark. He got to be a lawyer and was sent to congress, to this very capitol John. My grandfather worked in the big lbrary then, and you ought to hear him tell how this young man read books! ~ Men uctually laughed he was so homely and droll, Great men, Daniel Webster and Henry Clay, were In Washington, then, and used to sit with (his funny awkward man and enjoy nearing him talk. “Just think, he came day after day to the library of the supreme ccurt for books, and would always pile them up in a bundle, take out of his coat pocket a big red bandana han ‘kerehi f, spread it Cown on the table, inl tie all the books up in it; then hang it on his walking stick, put it over his should and march home. He always brought them back the same way. My grandfather saw him! And now who do you think he wae?" Some crank, 1 suppose.” John's friend rose up to his full height and stood in front of the discontented comrade and said in a triumphant tone, “It was Abraham Lincoln, John." ‘Well, he Qidn’t have to go to the school! MARGARET SPEN! ys tell- they High R. PRATTLE OF THE YOUNGSTERS, A woman residing in a N W York flat or- dered a plece of ice from the grocery. e youth who brought it was a C He put it on the dumb waiter in the basement to be hoisted “Grac this ice is. good welight. By great exertion she succeeded in getting the dumb waiter up. her astonishment she found the boy seated on the ice. With what breath she had left, she demanded “What did you make me pull you up here for?" “Why,” replied the cake would be too b came up to help you “John: ar,” sald his mother, who wa trying to inculcate a lesson in industry “what do you suppose mamma would do for ou it you should come to her some day and tell her that you loved your studies?’ “Lick me for telling a falsehood,” said dear little Johnny, with the sweet frankness of youth. up. She pulled away she exclaimed; “how heavy The grocer must have given me boy, “I vy for y fr with it. the 50 thought u to lift, The small boy was playing cowboy, more to his own satisfaction than that of his nervous father. “I am the Wild Wolf of Bitter Creek, lled. nd this is your night to howl,’ said the exasperated parent, appearing with a strap And Willie howled he ¥ Tommy—I think I am better than I am at studying. Mamma—Why do you think that, Tommy? Tommy—Why, because I often miss my lessons, but I never miss my meals. “I'm very much afraid,” his mother sald “that this ple needs more shortening.' “Mamma,” sald the boy in an audible un- dertone, ‘“that lsn't what my plece needs.” at eating THE ART OF CIRCUS RIDING Difficult and Dangerous Work Even for the Best Performers. TRAINING MUST BEGIN A Life of Apparent nmtr and Show, Reality One of Much “Hasfiship and Innumerable Accidgnts “nter- views with Kiders, iN CHILDHOOD 7 by 8. 8 Limited.) i never (Copyright, NEW YORK, June moment when a rider in the c irely free from danger. Of varfous feats become easy enough complishment after long practice performers can neve all their skill and experience will be set naught through some failure of the hor do what is expected of him. Suppose a horse shies while the rider is standing on his back preparing for a spring. The chances are ten 6.—There a us ring is conrse of but the ac the at to one that a fall will result, and yet there is no sure way of knowing when a horse is about to shy. The most trifling thing may cause him to do so; a sudden crash of music, the fall of a program thrown carelessly into the ring, a ray of sunshine striking him unexpectedly in the cyes, the creaking of a pully, any one of a hundrea tnings; swerving a few inches to the right or left, a sudden dart forward, will be more than sufficient to upset the d Therefor fcately poised equilibrium the art of falling is one of the most important, and it is also one of the most difficult of mastery among the clreus rider’s accomplishments, It is alw easy to recognize a veteran circus rider in the way Is. As soon as he sees that the JOHN O'BRIE , BORN.IN,THE RIN somo very e: in this wa the body folded up tight and hard, the rider escapes with a few bruises and a good shak ing up. ptional case.| Usuall; HOW A MAN CAN GUIDE HIMSELF. “It's astonishing how Manysthings you c think of,” said De Most, the back rider, in a recent falk I had with him seemed as if 1 had oceans of time to argue there would have been another dead circus rider.” “Do you mean that a circus rider can make himself turn faster or slower after he is in the air?" I asked. “Certainly I do; that is the most impor- tant part of somersault work. You see, ROSA MEERS. leave his horse for a murn.with exactly the right amount of spring.. «Sometimes he wil horse is going. Welly when he self in the air, say hait way around on the turn, he feels do—by a kind of instinet; whether he to land right on the horse. Besides that. the horse is and by anything is wrong. practice teil his head stralght up, or even a little back and that acts like putting on a brake, Then to bend his head down on his chest in the way I was telling you of, and his body will ing my shoulders In the other direction Tsn't 1t" “No'm. My plece needs length- ening.’ . a7 A1 the hor be sure at what moment | situation is hopeless, that he must go down, | minutes to finish them. hla: hands shoot. for hissXnle Nica & Anahi| o Coenti e et Aimeult feat you ever and he hugs himself up automatically into a | gaw done on a horse?” I inquired. round ball, with rothing exposed that can| Mr. Meers scratched his sandy head and break, unless possibly 1t.,bo g rib or two in | gaid, after some reflection: “I think the triking . with the mudcles all tense and famous bare- “In the tije when you are i the air falling | description. Each one of them plainly felt from’ your horse. You seal e elrcus riders | that there was nothing on this earth so have seen ‘So-many aBoldenls and had it | WOrthy of their admiration as the skill of & hammered into us £o much ever since we|man who could actually do a round-all, a were' ohildrerr what weenre=to do in such | fip-flap, and two somersaults in the way de: cases that it all comes rushing through our | £cribed. The two youngest daughters stopped heads like.a whirlwind, sewing white satin covers on . their siste “] remember the worst fall T ever had as | Flding slippers and listened open-mouthed. distinctly as if it were last week, although | ‘IS a great life, this being a circus Feally 1L Was meverals yehys ago) | It meems |/tiieritiicontiniied Shir, ‘Mee ‘We travel but it happened when T was sitting | all over the world, see all the grand citie astride my horse, walking 'round the ring [ and fine people and always get lots of ap- A S S AN A dies | plause. That's something worth living for, I something made the horss shy and before 1| a0 tell you, applause. You ought to Kknew it I was gone, lifted up in the air and | MY girl Lillle take a little run across the turning over, half from habit, I suppose, in a | I8 and jump clean over Ao horses, Yes back somersault. 1 heard ‘the ringmaster | 3Ty that's what, she can, do, and she fsn't vell at me and realized that, unless I could |8 big glrl, either. . Its nerve, sir, and get ‘round in the turn-so as to clear my | KNOWIDg how, more than muscle. =—There, head, I would break my neck in striking, | 48l of her arm, It WL =0 very liard Sinok Between that and my reaching the ground | different from any other woman's, but she was only the small part of a second, but it | 1 jump over the horkes just the same, R ke S pLitime | At this the mother and all the six daugh- B e . nobt [i{ndeed fasinelrg ainappy: tamlly: & would strike the ground with my shoulders, BORN IN A CIRCUS RING, if 1 managed to save my head, and then 1| Perhaps one of the best authorities on dug my chin down in my breast bone and | circus riding s John O'Brien, who has been hustled on that turn. for years and Is still equestrian director in “Well, it was a close shave. They | the Barnum show. Mr. O'Brien has the me out’ senseless and the doctor sald my | proud distinctign of being the only man living neck was broken; but it wasn't It was | actually born Tn a circus ring, sweh having badly wrenched, though, and I car-|been his remarkable experience in Reickson ¥ chin pressed agains¢ my body for | Wales, where his mother was in the midst Mecke wfterwands ot b sure i 1| of a daring horseback act when young John hadn't got up some fine speed on that turn | made his mundane debut with a great flour'sh no matter how good ajman is, he can never throw himself a littie togihard, and other | was done for the first time by the merest times not hard enoughg it -depends partly on | accident. The rider was the great-grand- now he feels, and partly.an the way the | father of our present champion, De Mott, and finds him- that is;@lligood circus riders is turning too fast or not fast enough, so as he can see most of the way round just where whether Now, suppose he wants to slacken his speed a little, he simply lifts if he sees he 18 too slow, all he has to do is shoot round twice as fast, like a bicycle CONNUBIALLITIES, going down hill. ‘And how about swerving to one side| A Colorado mine owner has been sued for or the other, can you correct that, too?" $200,000 for breach of promise. The size of “You can to a certain extent, but not so | a man’s bank account appears to be what ach. For instance, if I see I am going | &ives value to his word. to land too far inside the horse I can throw [ Miss Mary McTague disappeared from her my body two or three inches out by turning [ home In Newark, N. J., last week to avoid the shoulders in that direction. ~ In the [ marriage with the man to whom she was same way I can throw my body in by turn- [ engaged. The young woman seemed to have You can’t count much om that, though, and s body bas swerved out from under you, or has made you swerve in the air by a sideway jerk just as you jumped there lsn't much chance of your landing right. The best thing you can do then 18 bit your horse and get aw “How do you mean hit your horse?" “Come down near to him to push off with one foot for a turn and land safe on the ground. If a circus rider can't hit his ;n‘rw at all he's pretty sure to get a nasty all THE LONG, HARD TRAINING. Few people realize the Immense amount of practice that is necessary to make an ac- complisiicd circus rider. Nearly all the famous ones have begun their work at a very carly age. Lily and Rosie Meers ap- peared in public on horseback when little girls of 7 and 8, and from that time on they kept practicing constantly, not only in riding, but more particularly in various gymuastic movements and exercises. DeMott told me that when he was a boy of § going to school in Philadelphia tis father, who was also a circus performer, made him spend four hours a day, two in the morning and two in the afternoon, working at exer- | cises for strengthening the legs and giving | grace and suppleness to the b At that period in his training he was only allowed fifteen miutes a day on a horse, the greater part of the work being done on the ground and being in no way more exciting, although rather more varied, than ordinary exercise in a gymnasium. This work which all ac complished circus riders have to go through comes under the comprehensive name of ‘side practice,’ and includes ‘passing,’ ‘cut- ‘pirouettes,’ ‘battlements’ and various complicated moveme I had the good fortune to see the Meers sisters at their ide practice’ during thelr recent say in w York.” “There is no doubt,” said Mrs, Meers. their mother, who fas been in the business for two-score of years and should know what she is talking about, “‘that our society women Jould be immensely benefited if they should rn those same exercises that my girls to do to keep in practice for the ring. There, look at Marie; fsn't that good?" The mother's pride was Jjustifiable, for | Miss Marie indeed make a graceful fig ure as she stood literally poised on one toe. “Marie qid not begin to ride in public as young as her sisters,” continued the mother “but she had grace of movement, and strengthened her muscles by working for a number of years in the pantomime perfor. mances that are o popular in Burope. The result was that, when she began practicin on a horse, at the age of 16, she made very rapid progress, and soon caught up with her sisters.” A CIRCUS RIDER'S PRIDE OF PROFES- SION. Here the father, Hubert Meers, jolned In the conversatio He is a queer looking little man, very short and stumpy, and im- presses you as having but one possible inter- est in life, the circus ring. In his day he was a famous clown and acrobat, but now he only appears as ringmaster when his daughters ride. “There is something too, sir,” he said, in a soft, deferential tone, “in being born of a circus family. Now, in my case, I began doing the Risley business at the age of § with my father, who was a great performer. The ‘Risley business’ is where a little chap holds hims:1f out stiff and s tossed around in all kinds of ways on the feet of a man who lies on his back. That's what my father used to do to me. Then I began rid- ing when I was 10 years old, and as far back as 1855 the people in Birmingham gave me this gold medal for turning 200 back somersaults in succession. No, I didn't turn them which was quite on a horse, but on the ground, hard enough. It tock me twenty hardest thing was what a man did in Englani a few years ago, that is a triple act on a galloping horse, consisting of a_round-all, a flip-flap and two somersaults, Nobody could ever beat that.” It was charming to with which the children the enthusiasm the old circuy see of rider (there were six of them in all, grouped to around attentive), listened their father's and they can't.” of trumpets from the band and a fluttering of hearts among the ladies. trained more women nto clrcus riders than any other master of the sawdust. He recognizes grace and style as being the chief requisites for a good ride “It a girl has these,’ he said, “I will guar- antee to make a_circus rider out of her even as late as 16 if she will work hard at it Why, two years ago I started a married woman of 19 in the business, and she has succezded so well that she is now doing a regular act with the show. She had a special advantage, though, for she had been a con- tortionist ‘and dancer betore working on a horse. ““The first thing I teach them Is to learn to balance and to get the quick movement for a recover, Of course there is no danger of a beginner's falling, because we always use the mechanical apparatus to save them. Lots of them get rattled when they make their first appearance in puble they are too anxious want to do too much, and so make mistakes. The foundation of good rider I8 to know how to fall and to be able to ‘make for the feet, as we call it. It takes months and mont of practice to learn that and even then accidents often happen. You see, a horse’s back gets slippery after he begins to He has probably sweat, and when a rider's pumps have touched the sand and got damp they are liable to slip off like a plece of glass.’ IMPROVEMENTS IN CIRCUS RIDING I asked Mr. O'Brien if there had been much progress in crcus riding during his time, much advance in the difficulty of feats per formed “Undoubtedly there has,” he replled. “I have an old eircus program dating about twenty-five years ago, which reads like this ‘Levy J. North, the champion rider of the world, will actually stand on one foot and ride three times around the ring without a rein.’ Of course today any beginuer at cirew riding would do a trck like that then considered very wonderful. “Has any rider dared to try sommersault on a horse's back “I don't think so, and I am very sure no one has ever succeeded. You know, a single sommersault on a horse's back is no joke, and which was a double when he did it he intended to tk a sommersawlt £0 as to land on the ground, but he made a wrong calculation and struck the horse's back on his knees. After that he did the same thing on purpose and finally suc- ceeded in landing on his feet. The only pos- sible way of doing a double sommersault mounted would be for the rider to stand well back on the horse facing the tall and then do what we call a double backward back You know, a back sommersault is always easler than a forward one, But even so, 1 should hate to be the man to try a double on a horse CLEVELAND MOFFETT. I W more (with some hesitation) not vote at all, Grumpkins I'm all right on the question myself, but I—I expect to be paired oft at high noon next Wednesday with a freesilver girl. The engagement of Miss Bdith Rockefeller and Mr. Harold McCormick was announced in New York last week. Miss Edith Rocke- feller is frequently spoken of as one of the two wealthiest helresses in America. The other is her sister, Miss Alta Rockefeller. They are the daughters of Mr. and Mrs. John D. Rockefeller of No. 4 West Fifty-fourth street. It fs estimated that they will each come into $35,000,000 La Grange, 11l. had family reunfon and ministers all in_one 1 think I shall double wedding, a meeting of Baptist Might and in the same house. Last Wednesday night two young Baptist ministers wedded two daughters of a clergyman of that sect in the presence of brothers of the bride Furniture Ca Boston { On Monday morni bought from the SHE Call and examine chevaliteriee 75 Solid Oak 6-foot E Tables—Polish finish. Dining Chairs........ Large bevel mirror.. 150 Ladies’ Sewing R 50 Cheffoniers, solid 5 drawers. . Oak frame ..coees 60 Rolls Qil Cloth.... A Grand Special Sale IN OUR Dyuilas an immense stock of furniture that we 40c on the Dollar. wish to purchase or not. =" NOTE THESE PRIGES = 75 Solid Oak Bed Room Sets 20x24 bevel edged Mirror, square or 90 Bed Room Sets, hard wood, 20x24 bevel Mirror .....e0 25 Dozen Solid Oak Cane Seat 25 Solid Oak Sideboards-- 50 Bed Lounges, crush plush Cooke and Rev. Jullen Avery Herrick, The father of the brides, Rev. D. T. Morrill, cousin to Senator Morrill of Vermont, wa ono of the best known Baptist preachers I northeru Illinots, While on the Kuishts ¢t Pythlas trip to Washington encampment last yoar Tom Me« Collough, deputy postmaster of Anderson, Ind., refused a cigar and as the result the box, which was afterward emptied, was thrown over to him and carelessly he began to write on the Iid with his pencll. He wrote his name and address among other things and at last he thoughtlessly threw the box out of the car window. He got a letter two weeks after he returned home in which a young lady, the writer, stated that she had found the hox and saw his name on it. She had thought it a good chance to have soma fun, and wroto to him. The correspondence has been going on ever since and the result who are divines of the | is that he went to Mount Union, Pa., las§ same denomination. The brides were Arrieta | night, announcing that when he returned he Anita Morrill and Jennle 8. Morrill and the | would not be alone. The romance has ate respective grooms are Rev. Homer Martien ' tracted a great deal of attention. W SRR R R and rpet Dep't Store 6th and Sts. ng we place on sale: RIFF at goods whether you $12.75 $9.98 $3.00 60c $9.00 ...60¢ $4.98 »$8.00 ..18¢ yard xtension ockers oak=-- | headaches, dysp stomach disorders ment but an They will do all t will, | Ripans Tabules: 8o It the vrice (0 cents pans Chemical Compa - Not an Experiment. The use of Ripans Tabules for Tl Bl i B epsia and other is not an experi- assured success. hat we say they 0ld by druggists, or by man & box) s sent to The Rl ny, No. 10 pruce st., N. Yo =) i (| I [ [ B d TE Lake Minnetonka, Minn, £ 1805 b LEADI HOTE son June 22ud. SUMMER THE W faces the 1a ful location. [ T, Every room Henlth 1modern comforts, difly concerts e fine seenéry, best of ishing and salling. One hour quent traing, Address E. V. HOLCOMBE, Great N June 20, afier that at Hotel. Bull Terrier P Pug Puppi bl Water Black and Tan $20.00, eI ERC ;51flfl EXACT SIZE Wor sale by all First Class Dealers. a peculiar dread of marrlage. Grumpkins—Spoonamore, how _are you golng to vote on the silver question? Bpoonan. Doas! Geisler’s Bird Store, A from St. Paul. 40 1 orthern Builling, ST. Apol1s, Fros A, untid Doas! )0 to $10.00 each, G.00 each. panicls, $4.00 cach. $8.00 cach. One full-grown Tan Terrier, weighing only 3 Ib,s 101 N 16th St, Omatia. PERFECTY THE MERCANTILE IS THE FAVORITE TEN CENT CIGAR Mauufactured by the F. R. RICE MERCANTILE CICAR CO., Factory No, 804; 8t Louls, Mds