The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 26, 1896, Page 18

18 5. WAS on my way to the village, toil- ing up the old pavea road, on a slope, known for miles around as the stiffest climb in the neighborhood. It was a hot August day, and as I stopped to take breath ol¢ Sauvage, theowner of the “Rising Sun,” an inn most -discreetly perched at the top of its thirsty summit, came up behind me and accosted me with a cordial “Good-day!” We went on to- gether, glad of each other’s company, and at last arrived at the very steepest part of the way, a sheer incline abutting on a ra- vine, thickly clad with undergrowth, at the bottom of which flowed the river, and bor- dered by a green hedge, the only protec- tion against a fall over its side. Rightin the very middle of this hedge wasa great gap, which seemed as though some mas- sive weight had crashed through it. “‘Has there been an accident here?” I asked my companion. ‘Better than that,” was his answer. “That hedge wears still the scars of war, like a disabled warrior. A terrible thing happened there.” I scented a story. “Tell me about it,”” I begged, and, as we advanced slowly under the burning sun, he began: “It was on the 17th of Dedember, in the year of misfortune, 1870, a date I have good reason for remembering. S “On the afternoon of the day before, a troop of German soldiers had arrived among us. No one thought much about it 3t first: we had grown accustomed to such visits by then, for our village is on the road to Germany, and for the last | three months, heaven knows, we had seen nothing but Prussians and Bavarians, Uhlans and artillerymen, cuirassiers and foot soldiers passing throngh—a never- ending stream. They did not stay long, but managed toconsume everything they could get hold of; they devoured our corn, our oats, our cattle and our sheep, which they w brutes enough to kill before our very eyes, and left usin their stead littie scraps of paper witn I don’t know what sort of unintelligible stuff written on them. Afterward thev would go on down the hill, through the valley, and forward to Paris. At mght. when the wind blew from the west, we used to heardull, heavy sounds which were the voice of the cannon—Paris calling for help. But Paris called in vain, and in vain we hoped ; the pantalons rouges never came, and always, always there ar- rived fresh troops of Germans. I would wager more than a hundred thonsand have been over the old paved road where :weare. But we could do nothing and had to watch them go by in mournful helpless- iness, as you might ‘watch_the course of a iriver that bad overflowed its banks. 4 *“This time it was only an infantry bat- italion. It halted up there, in front of our !place, by the church. But evidently some- thing extraordinary had happened. The soldiers stood at attention; their officers were in a group, gesticulating, shouting, swearing. could hear them at it from the house. The commandant wus the most furious of all. I can see him still—a long, lean old fellow, with a red scar on his white face, a great white mustache, with occasional regdish hairs in it, and the very oddest way of walking T ever saw —just as if he were walking on egg suells and was afraid of breaking them—and a way of swinging himself about that made me think of a poplar swaying 1n the wind. “While he was rnginfi up and down a captain pointed out to him the house op- posite to ours. And at once he seemed overjoyed ; he called out some order in his lingo; four men came out of the ranks and, followed by them and the captain, he marched forthwith to the house pointed out to him, looked at its sign-board, and read aloud: ‘Jacques Brulefert, Engine and Machinery Mender’; then he opened the door and entered with the officer. “I wondered what the Prussians could be wanting with Jacques, and said to my- self: ‘Look out for squalls!’ for I must tell you Jacques hated the Prussians, and he was a_hot-headed fellow. He had served with the army in Africa, and though now he was well past 40 had courage and daring and strength enough for a much younger man; he was not tall, nor by any means a beauty. By much fighting against Bedouins he had got almost as swarthy as they are, but he was as agile as a cat, and dexterous as a monkey, while he was as sound as only an old Zouave like himself could be. ‘*Ah, there was no lack of fire in him, eyes or heart, I can tell you! Hisrage had known no bounds ever since the cam- Eglgn had begun. You should have heard im storming against the Emperor in the big room at the inn, for a coward who couldn’t even die when he ought to, and against the townsfolk, who were cowards too, and the Germans who could only fight three to one. He banged on the tables as if they were Prussians. He was mad about it all. Why, I myself, sir, as true as I'm here speaking to you, I saw him cry like a child when he heard that Bazaine had surrendered Metz. “At every fresh disaster—and heaven knows there were enough of them—ne wanted to be off wherever the fightin, was and take his share of it. He sai Dat the others had got the very job he vanted, and he would have gone over and ver again in spite of his age if he had not nad to stay and take care of his wife and his little boy, a lad of 10 years. So he ltlged behind, but as if he felt disgraced and ready for anv desperate deed. Every time the Germans came through he shut himself up so as not to see them, and it by chance some of them were billeted on him he would rather P‘vf tosen! them to the inn than himself lodge the sauerkraut- gobblers, as he called them. “*8o I said to myself, when I saw the two Prussian officers going in to friend Jacques: ‘There’ll be a row, I warrant’ And I wasn’t far out, as you’ll see. They had bardly been iuside for three minutes when I heard a great uproar of doors banzing and shouting. Then out came the com- mandant as red as a cock’s comb and shouted out some rigmarole to the four men who had stayed outside; they rushed into the workshop and I knew they must have had orders to fetch out Jacques. But not a bit of use was it, for while they were turning the house upsidedown I saw a man suddenly leap out of the loft and run for dear life along the road. It was Jacques, and he went like a runaway horse, but a few minutes after a Prussian sghowed his ugly face at the very window Jacques bad jumped out through. You can imagine his looks when he saw Jacques had been under their very nose all the time. And the officers, too! They swore like anything, and the commandant looked as black as thunder. “He didn’t jump out (1t was too far from the ground for that) but he rashed down the staircase with his men, called up the others, and set them like dogs on the track of the runner.. Ab, so he did—but there was no Jacques {o be seen! Every trace of him had disappeared! He was nowhere to be found, and they searched everywhere in the bushes, the corners behind the church and the little wood! And bare and level before them stretched the road. Where the deuce could he have got to? The night was beginning to fall; in_vain the men searched everywhere round; in vain the commandant swore and raged and fumed like a madman; the soldiers had to come back jabbering and empty handed. All the village had assembled up there at last, lookinz as though they un- derstood nothing, you can imagine, but bursting with laughter to see them so dumfounded. ‘“Every one knew already what had happened. My wife had been up to Jacques’ house to see what had been done, and she has a tongue of her own, you know, a regular woman. She found the poor wife frichtened out of her wits, and crying with fear. It seems that the com- mandant had wanted Jacques to go with him at once without & moment’s notice. He wanted him to repair a great steam- engine he was escorting with his battal- ion, and that he had had to leave behind a mile back. The night before the engineer had been killed as they came through a wood by afranctireur, and he wanted some one to replace him in bringing along the machine which was stuck there. You can puess it waadpreny serious for him. The machine wasdrageing along a great cannon destined for the bombardment of Paris. And the commandant had come to requi- sition Jacques for the job, as if he had bee: a Prussian soldier, at least. He had come to the wrong shop this time. Jacques got white as a sheet and said: ‘Supposing I won't do anything of the kind ?’ “The commandant told him, with a sneer, ‘Then you’ll be forced to,” for he spoke French like a schoolmaster, the great, lanky lout. But he did not know Jacques. With one bound the fellow skipped through the door behind him, and, once out of their sight, got away as I told you. % “We thought that was the end of it. But there’s no dealing with these obsti- nate folk. A few minutes after there wasn’t one among us inclined to laugh, for the commandant announced to the Mayor that he would now spend the night in the village, and soon we each had our share of Prussians to lodge. And to see them there, strutting about in one’s own house, stretching across the fireplace or the table, and talking a jargon no one coula understand, while the very rifles they carried had probably shot down more than one brave fellow from our little vil- lage. was enough to take the laugh out of one forever, I can tell you. “Up at the inn, of course, we had the commandant_and two captains to provide for gratis, and didn’t feel particularly flat- tered by the honor. The commandant was striding up and down, and looking very furious. Suddealy I saw him stop and rab his hands. ‘A bad sign,’ thinksI; and, sure enough, he calis his men and talks away to them, pointing every now and then to Jacques’ house. Idian’tknow yet what he was up to, but I adn’t long to wait. Outside in the street we hear a noise, lond laughsand the criegof a woman and a child; then our door is pushed roughly open and a woman is just thrown into the room by four great ruffians, who pueh and drag and hustle her in. It was the old wretch’s idea. The cunning old thing said to himself: ‘If you want to take the male the surest way is to catch the female.’” And he had Jacques’ wife arrested. **As for the boy, a regular son of his father, as bold as a lion, he tried to resist; velled and screamed, fought and kicked, and was trying to bite the band which had Fr“pw him cruelly by the wrists. Poor ittle lad! They wouldn’t even let him stay in with us, but kicked him outside, and for a quarter of an hour or more we heard him sobbing with rage and cold out in the dark night.” The mother was like a creature possessed. She struggled until she was in such a disheveled state you wouldn’t have known her, and screamed insult after insult at the commandant, calling him ‘cad,’ ‘villain,’ ‘coward.’ He cared no more than if he had been a log; but laughea mockingly at her, the heart- less beast, and said quietly, ‘Come,come, behave yourselfl You shall be set free when your husband returns. If he doesn’t come back, so much the worse for you. You will be our prisoner, and will have to come with us. That will teach your man to refuse us his services.” And while the poor woman, over whom two soldiers mounted guard, was crying quietly ina corner of our big dining-room, the com- mandant and two captains, seated at the other end, ate enough for six, and drank enough for ten, because tney knew they were not going to pay for their dinner.” By this time we had clinibed the hill and reached the inn, where I had invited Pere Sauvage to drink a glass of wine with me and it was over a venerable bottle in a cool corner of the big room looking on to the sunny highway and the delightful view beyond that he continued: “Well, the Prussians ware gobbling at the very table we are now sitting at and I was serv- ing at the bar, when Jean Lacroix, the mason, came in. He had come to fetch a pint of wine; but he looked as though something was up; so when he made me a sign I pretended that I had to go down to :Fe cellar and went into the kitchen with im. ¢ ‘I've seen Jacques,’ he said softly. *Where?’ I nsEed. : ! ‘“*Quite close. He has hidden under the road. 1found him crouched up in the little tunnel that takes off the rain water in bad weather. The Prussians must have passed over his head at least a dozen times when they were looking_ for him. Wasn't it a trick to play them? But now he is cold and hungry. He whistied softly to me as I was comng in from the fields. He wants something to eat, some sort of wrap and a little money, then he is going ?fl to his Uncle Francois—who lives three eagues off. I wanted to tell his wife, and knocked at her door; but there’s no one there. Whatam 1todo? “I told him the Prussians had arrested her and meant to take her off with them; that she was up there in the dining-room, and that we must somehow let Jacques Enow ; but it was easier said than done, as one ran the risk of being caught in the act and betn{mg his hiding-place. Then I thought of the boy, who was bold enough for anything and ‘an intelligent little fel- low. Tt was a pitch-dark night; he could creeg along and hide himsel! in the ditches more easily than a man, and then once with his father he would at least ha"ve I:":»me o’xt:ebzo{delend hinlx. e can!' ar away,’ I said to Jean i@cm')ix. ‘We must find him and send im. *‘It seemed the best thing to do, sir, and yet I have often thougnt since then that without meaning to I was doing just what that old wretch of a commandant wanted. No one will ever persuade me that that wasn’t the idea he had in his head when he let the child go: he thought he would THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, APRIL 26, 1896. ROM TAE FRENCAH OF GEORGES- RENARD = 591 at the father through the child. What o you think? Jean Lacroix was of the same opinion as myself, that it was the only thing to be done and he went off to see after it all, = *‘The Prussians had done their dinner and were smoking like a factory chimney. Jacques’ wife was still orying silently in her corner; she would neither eat nor drink: and it was heartbreaking to see her so wretched and know that we couid do nothing for her. The sentinels in the street could be heard calling, ‘Wer da?’ (Who goes?) and no one was allowed to enter or leave the village without the commandant’s permission. The officers and men came in from time to time to re- ort to him. But on the stroke of 7 acques’ wife sat up straight and gave a loud cry. Her hushand and her little boy were being brought in by the patrol. ‘‘Jacques was quite pale and very calm, but his jaw was set and his look ugly. When the commandant said with a laugh, ‘I knew we should catch you, my fine fellow,” he replied, looking straightinto his eyes: it ‘I was not caught at all. I knew that you had arrested my wife, and that she cheerfully, to inspirit her a little, and vuched her toward the door. The boy stayed behind, sobbing—naturally enough. But Jacques caught him between his knees and said: “ ‘Little man, you must be brave, and not ery; those cads are only too pleased if they see you cry. Think that I am going off to the war and shail be coming back again. If by chance, though, things go badly with me and I never come back any more, you must love your mother, my boy. You must love her for two. And when you are a biz man remember to be a good sold ier, so that the Prussians may get back from you some of the harm they have done us. Now, laddie, don’t cry whatever you do.’ “And the little fellow nearly choked himsslf in his efforts not to cry and said: “ ‘You see, father, I'm not crying now.’ Only the words sounded very shaky and two great tears ran down his cheeks. | Jacques sent him off after his mother. Ah! he couldn’t manage to_look cheerful any longer, just then, poor Jacques! His voice was trembling when he said to me: ‘‘It’s cold this morning, Pere Sauvage. Let’s have one more drink together—per- baps it’s for the last time.’ ** ‘The last?’ I said to him. ‘Why, man, it’s not the first time you’ve been in the wars; you’ll come back to us, never fear!” “He smiled without speaking, but I saw e l:iad g0t something planned eut in his ead. ‘‘The commandant had just come out from his room, and he was no sooner downstairs than he cave the word ‘March!’ Jacques took his box and fol- lowed him outside. All the village was there, sir, to see him off, and_every one had a good word for him and ingisted on h h Yiece of that caliber could carry two eagues at the least, we said to each otnel"- gloomily enough, that the Parigians weren't exactly going to have a gay time of i't. Only you will guess a mass like that wasn't casily conveyed about; it would have taken thirty horses at least just to move it. Steam alone could drag along such a monument, and just in the very nick oi time the engine-driver had been killed, and the machine got out of gear. ‘Ah!’ we said to each other, ‘what a pity Jacques got taken prisoner! If only he could dam- ace its inside a little, so that it couldn’t be got to move.” “But nothing of the sort; he just gave a look to its works, and in a few minutes had put everything right, for he was a rare workman, I can tell you. Then, while they were getting up steam, we heard him giving a heap of explanations to the com- mandant. The old man was afraid of the incline it had to descend. But Jacques reassured him; he understood quite well how to manage it; he would slow down at the entrance to the village; he would put on the brake; he would shut off steamj if necessary, he would reverse the engines. ‘You needn’t be afra¥i of anything,’ he said. ‘I'll answer for it all. It’ll answer to my hand, an engine of that kind. Only send some men on first to clear off the snow which is drifted up on the hillside. That might make us slide down.’ “For I must tell you there had been a heavy snow a weex before. Since when, though it had been trodden into mud by the passers-by, some still lay between the paving-stones, and asit had frozen hard during the night, the road shone in the morning sun like a mirror. The com- mandant had noticed it. ‘You're right,’ shaking him by the hand: he hid never he said to Jacques, and some minutes 1 h ST ’.’4, ANE: R “THE MACHINE SPED STRAIGHT ON, LIKE A FLASH OF LIGHTNING.” would be set free if I came back. 80 here Iam. But all the same, you have acted like a coward.’ “The commandant grew quite white, then quite red, as if he were nearly chok- ing; his hand felt for his swoni, and I thought he was »oing to fall upon Jacques, who stood before him with foided arms. But he contented himself with swearing big oaths, which I didn’t under- stand; but he must have been wild, to judge by his men, who were trembling in their shoes. Ah! if they had not had need of Jacques Brulefert and his skill, the poor fellow would have had a bad time of it. At last, when the command- ant could control himself sufficiently to ap‘enl;, he said : - *‘You are going to sleep here, you do of a Erenchfiln. Yourpmols will bE brought to you and to-morrow off you go with us. The least attempt to getaway and you’ll be shot at once.’ “Jacques did not flinch. He satdown quietly at a table in the corner, white four great Germans settled themselves at the next table, with their guns charged and bayonets fixed. His wife brought him food and drink. He supped as though nothing was the matter, without saying a word; then asked for his tool-bag and a blanket; sent home his wife and the little lad, who didn’t want to leave him; after which, like the old veteran he was, he rolled himselt up in his blanket, stretched himself out on his table, with his box for a pillow, and went to sleep. “The next day at dawn a whole com- pany stood at attention in front of our door, sent to fetch away Jacques. Hehad already jumped down from his table and stretched his limbs by & turn round the room, so he took a glass with me and was ready to go. _‘“Hechaffed and joked his four guar- dians, who would not let him out of their | sight for a single moment, but seemed afraid that he might vanish up the chim- ney. All the same, there was something very queer - looking about him. Some: times be would stay for a whole minate staring and frowning, as if he was looking at something a long way off, and then he would suddenly rear up his head, as if he was defying some one. “At about 8 o’clock his wife and the child came to see him. The poor woman was crying so, that she was pitiiul to see. ‘* ‘Listen, Catherine,’ he said; ‘you must promise me to leave the village at once and go to Uncle K'rancois.” *‘And when sbe objected, he spoke lower still. My own opinion is that the four soldiers didn’t know a single word of French, but they may have been sham- ming, and anyway it was wiser to speak softly. 8o he whispered into her ear: ‘‘ ‘You see, I mean to try and escape on the way. But if you are still here, the: will arrest you again to get me back. { shall not feel safe unless I see you away. Go and get your things ready, and don’t be afraid, dear wife. I'll get out of it, you'll see.’ “He kissed her affectionately, almost had so many frienas. He kept looking anxiously toward his house, but when he saw his wife come out holding the boy by one hand, and in the other her bundle of things, he seemed .relieved. Only, as all the good-bys were being said, and every one wisaed him au revoir and bon voyage, the commandant_asked, roughly, ‘Where is she going? He was a sy old thing, that commandant, to be sure; and was suspicious about this departure of bers. But Jacquesreplied, as quiet as you please: ‘“ ‘I shall be away some time, it seems. She is going to stay with our uncle as long as vou need my services.’ ‘The commandant was quite taken in. “‘That's right’ he said, slapping Jacques on the shoulder. ‘You are sen- sible this morning; and that's better all round, my lad. Ina week you'll be back here. 1t’s notso bad, after all, is it?’ :‘The wife and the child started off as he said this. Jacques followed them to the next turning with his eyes, threw them a kiss from where he stood, and gave a great sigh; but as soon as they were out of sight, sir, you would hardly have believed it was the same man; his expression changed as you might change your shirt, saving your presence. It was our Jacques at his very best; laughing and joking and snapping his fingers at the Prussians, Wwhom he called old slow-coaches, telling them they never would get anywhere at that rate. A regular ‘gamin,’sir, but a true Frenchman too, who meant to show these lanky Germans that there was nothing in them to frighten an old soldier of the African army. ‘‘At last the column began to march. Jacques, who was placed in the middle, wnlkm}f along quite gayly, called out to us, ‘I shall see you again soon! You'll be having news of me before long.’ _ I assure you, sir, he could not have gone off holiday- making more gayly, and more than one of the village folk were surprised, and didn’t aquite like to see him so soon going quietly with the Prussians. But I knew my man and could have sworn he had in his head some trick to play them and their machine, ., “The place where the Prussians had left it was not half a league away, upon the plateau above us; and, faith, we were curious to see this engine which had come {rom so far. ‘Well,’ said I, let’s go along; the Prnssians won't eat us’; and five or &ix of us followed after the column that was taking off Jacques. “Soon, in the middle of the road, we saw a great black object, guarded by a little detachment that bad had to camp out round it. Itwas that brute of a ma- chine, a traction engine it was called, I think; and behind, on two great carts, themselves a mass’ of iron, was the gun and the carriage! A, sir, if you had seen the creature! A mouster of a cannon! Heavens, how is it possible such engines are invented? Two men could have lain down in its mouth, and good- ness knows how many tons it weighed! It could discharge shells that would demolish a whole house from garret to cellar. And when we thought tnata “YOU'LL BE SHOT!” of men posted alongside to the right and the left of the machine; then he himself went to the head of the column, calling out first something in German and then in French for Jacques, ‘Forward, march!’ The machine panted and snorted and tug- ged with all 1its might; the cannon jerked off with a clash of iron, and between the two rows of soldiers who accompanied it, it all proceeded slowly along the level high way. . “We had run on to the village to an- nounce the approach of the wonderful machine, and all our folk, men, women and children, were outin the road to see it pass by. Soon were heard cries of ‘It is coming! It's coming!” and there it ap- peared, clearly outlined against the sky, all black and smoking. Lean this way a little, sir; you can see the place from here. 1t was about ten feet from our house. You can see, just where the cobblestones stop and the paving begins. That’s where the incline begins; there’s a little slope before the big one. “At that moment the commandant, who was prancing along on horseback, turned round to Jacques and called out, ‘Atten- tion!” *‘Don’t be alarmed,’ sines out Jacques. ‘I’'m going to put, the brake on.’ “Ah, sir, if I live to be a hundred, I shall never forget what happened then; no, nor | will any one who was there and saw it all. Then I'understood why Jacques had sent off is wife and the little one. “Instead of slowing down, he put on all possible speed, jumped at the lieutenant, twisted his arms so that the revolver fell out of his hands, and kept him fastened to the spot, shouting all the time, ‘Vive la France!" And the machine began to rush on down, leaping over the paving-stones; and the gun rushed after it, gun-carriage and all, making a very deuce of a noise. The commandant only just got out of the way in time toescape being crushed. He was yelling like a madman, and shouting out orders to his Prussians; which I expect meant: ‘Stop him! Kill him!" But all the same they stood still, stupid with aston- ishment and terror. They might as well have tried to stop an express at full speed. The machine b'ped straight on like a flash of lightning. The nouses shook, the pav- ing stones were crushed under it and sent out showers of sparks; it was a whirlwind crashing down the street with thunderand lightning. Jacques, clinging to_his Prus- sian, looked a regular demon. Once more we heard him shout, ‘Vivela France!’ Then, at the turn of the road, in a single bound through the hedge, everything rotled over iuto the ravine below. It was an awful crash. To have any idea of it you must imagine a thunderboit falling into the midst of this room. And then im- mediately there came a great silence. No one could speak; the women covered their heads with their aprons; we felt sick at heart. 2 P *‘Can you believe it, sir? I can’t think of it even yet without creeping all over. And yet it's fifteen years now since then. I YXpeu you’ll despise me, but I can’t help it. “;\:Vell, to cut a long story short, the Prussians were more than six weeks over fishing up their big gun. At the bottom of the ravine was a horrible mess of twisted iron-work, disiocated wheels, plowed-up soil, broken trees and shattered stones. &'hen at last it was all got up out of the debris it was too late to be of any usein the bombardment—the siege of Paris was raised. “Good old Jacques! That was what he had wished, ard to think that we could never even give him a hero’s funeral. “He had been so completely crushed that nothing of him was found but a few mangled scraps of flesh some days after— one couldn’t even tell if they belonged to Lim or the Prussian. Everything was car- ried off to the cemetery, almost without ceremony, for the Prussians were still in the village and furious after the smash. Later on we put up a hittle headstone over the grave, with the inscription, ‘Died for his country,” under his name, then the date, and that was all. Thirty years hence no one wiill remember who it was. The wife is dead, the house sold, the boy has gone for a solaier—now he is a sergeant in the line, and the Prussians wiil catch it pretiy hotif ever be hasa chance of ge ting at them. But he doesn’t often ge back to his old home, and with the excep- tion of himself and a few old folk like me, who will remember Jacaues Brulefert ? “I have ir, sir: you who are a scholar— you should writé bis history. It would only be justice to him. [ tell vou, spite of their grest battalions and their great guns, the Prussians would have had a bad time of 1t in 1870 if there had been many Frenchmen like our Jacques. “And now, sir, I've been talking long enough. I must get to my work. Your health, sir!” “A la sante de la France, Pere Sauvage, and the memory of Jacques Brulefert. 1 promise you to write his story.”’—The Strand Magazine. GREEK HORSE RAOCES. Kings and Princes Sometimes Drove Their Horses in the Olympic Games. The most brilliant and exciting contests of the festival were the chariot and horse races. They took place in the Hippo- drome, adjoining the Stadium. The structure itseli no longer exists, and we are dependent upon analogous builaings and upon literature for its reconstruction. CRIED THE OFFICER. after the Prussians who stayed in the vil- lage were clearing the highway with picks and brooms, like so many road laborers, and spreading shovelfuls of earth from top to bottom of the incline. *‘All this time Jacques was waiting. The machine was ready, he was seated on it, and smoking his pipe as calmly as if he had been at home. The commandmant, however, did not vet feel quite safe about him. At the momentof starting he called a heutenant and said something that I couldn’t understand, though I heard him plainly. The lieutenant answered: ‘Ja, commandant. Ja, commandant.’ Then I saw bim take a revolver from his belt, and climb up on the locomotive by Jacques, and the commandant called to Jacques from his horse: ‘* ‘Understand, you engineer fellow, at the first attempt to escape, you’ll be shot.’ “ “You'll be shot’ seemed to be the words that came most natural to him. Jacques shrugged his shoulders. ‘¢ ‘I've no wish to get away,’ was his re- ply. Butin spite of that, for greater se- curity, the commandant had & double file The portion immediately adjoini: Altis was an_ artificial en'lban}]:m:xag w‘i?)g seats backing against those of thesmainm. Farther on the rolling slope formed a na- tural stand for the spectators. The di- mensions of the Hippodrome are not definitely known, but are put with some probability at two stadia in length and and about 600 feet in breadth. As with the races in the Stadium, the chariot and horse races also involved a sharp turn, so that the course was traversed several !:_imes before the finish, Pindar, in his ‘Ode to Arcesilas,” speaks of te “twelve swift turns of the sacred course.” The relative positions of the chariots at the start were determined by lot; butas there was a natural difference between the inside and the outside track this difference Was neutralized by a device in the manner of starting invented by Clecstas. This is decsribed by Pausanias as in shape like the prow of a ship, with partitioned stalls, in which the chariots and horses took their stand. Infront of the chariots was extended a rope. First the ropes on the extrewities were slackened, and when the horse stationed there advanced asfaras the horses in the secona stalls then the ropes there were slackened, and so on un- til all started fair at the beak. This shows that a number of chariots started together; how many is uncertain. When Pindar %penks of the forty chariots who fell in the 'ythian contest in which Arcesilas con- quered he is not at variance with Sopho- cles, who relates that ten chariots then started together; for the races were doubt- less run in heats. Alcibiades alone sent seven chariots to Olympia, winning the first, second a 1d fourth prizes. In the chariot race the skill of the driver told far more than the speed of the horses. After the trumpet had sounded and the bronze dolphin had been lowered and the bronze eagle raised as a signal for the start, his cool head in the first bolt for the lead, and amid the dust-clouds of the course and at the taraxippos—that te of horses, the turning-post—often slower horaes with success to the finish, where beside the judges stood a statue of Hippodameia holding a fillet for the victor. Long aiter the quadriga had ceased to be used in active warfare the chariot race flourished in the great national games. It was the eventin which the rich and pow- erful, princes and kings, took part, and sometimes themselves appeared as cha- rioteers. There are many memorials of these victories in Greek vase-paintings, coins and gems, varying in character from serious representations of an actual race to allegorical and symbolic scenes in which Cupids and winged Victories are the charioteers.—“The Old Olympic Games,” in the April Century. WONDERFUL RAT-KILLING. A Little Scotch 1errier Has Put Fifty Thousand Out of Existence. There are plenty of dogs to be found in [almost_.:\n_v city with some remarkable ‘rat-kllllng performances to their credit, | but there is one here in San Francisco that very likely holds the world's record. His work scems incredible, but it is only & matter of figures to prove itand then it seems possible, “Tim” is the dog’s name. He isfga Scotch terrier, 17 years old, and makes nis home in the basement of Wieland & Col- Tim Dispatching a Rat. [From a sketch.] lins’ saloon, on Montgomery street. When only a litile over a year old Tim was brought to his present home and has re- mained there ever since. He has devoted all of his time to killing rats withouta single holiday. 9 % o kill rats was as natural to Tim as it was to eat. He was as quick as a flash, and one snap of his jaws was all that was needed to end the career of any rodent. The first night he was put in the basement he killed over two dozen rats. Since then he has killed an average of ten a night, as_has been ascertained by keeping ree- ords. One night when he was in his prime he killea forty-two. If Tim killed ten rats a night he would kill 3652 in a year, and in fifteen years, the length of time he has been at the business he would have51,780 to his credit. If any- thing, this recoxd is too low. 2 Tim never made a habit of killing rats like a machine, he always wanted some fun out of it. As soon as he nad_his vic- tim located he made a spring and caught the rat near the hindquarters, so that by a uiex twist of his bead he sent the un- ortunate animal high in the air, The rat’s real troubles did not commence, how- ever, until he started on his downward flight ana was caught between Tim’s teeth. Sometimes Tim gave a second toss, but when he made up his mind to kill the work was done in the fraction of a second. At present poor Tim isin a sad condi- tion, and the chances are that he will soon go to the dogs’ hnp'gy hunting-grounds where rats are plentiful. His {eeth are all gone and he can’t see as well as he used to. But he still kills rats at the same old rate, his powerful jaws being sufficient to break the back of any rat that ventures within his reach. Propeller Blades. A serious drawback in regard to the screw propellers of torpedo-boat craft, in consequence of the thinness of the blades, is the quickness witn which they corrode. In one case the common steel propeller was found to be seriously corroded after three months. In the German navy, a cor- respondent of the Naval and Military Ree- ord (British) writes, experiments in the hope of getting rid of this drawback are being made with nickel and steel for pro- peller blades in small craft. So far the tests have proved satisfactory. After three months’ trial the nickel steel was not cor- roded, while the common steel, with but an eight months’ test, showed both metals to be corroded, though the nickel steel stood the best. A N0-TO-BAC MIRACLE Physical Perfection Prevented by the Use of Tobacco. An Old-Timer Cured After Using Tobacco Twenty-Three Years. He Galns Twenty Pounds in Thirty Days. LAKE GENEVA, Wis., April 25.—The ladies of our beautiful little town are making it in- teresting for tobacco-using husbands, since the injurious effect of tobacco and the ease with which it can be cured by No-To-Bac have been lainly demonstrated by the cure of Mr. F. C. {V-na. In s written statement he says: “T smoked and chewed tobacco for twenty-three years, and my case was one of the worst in this part of the country. Even after I went to bed at night, I woke up to chew or smoke. It was killing me, and_my wife was also ailing from the injurious effects. Two boxss of No-To-Bac cured me, and I have no more desire for to- bacco than I have to jump out of the window. Ihave gained twenty pounds in thirty days, my wife s well, and we are indeed both happy to” say that No-To-Bac is truly ‘worth fu weight in gold.’ " Mr. Waite's cure is looked upon asa miracle. It is the talk of the town and county, and over a thousand tobacco users will use No-To-Bac. The peculiarity about No-To-Bac is that the makers authorize every druggist in America 1o absolutely guarantee three boxes to cure or re- fund the “money, and the cost is so trifling, compared with "the expensive use of tobacco, that tobacco-using husbands have no excuse o offer when their wivesinsigt upon their taking No-To-Bac, gaining pure, sweet breath, new mental and physical powers and a practical revitalization of their nicotinized nerves. No- To-Bac not only cures the tobacco habit, but Testores vitality and nerve vigor. It is inaeed & miracle worker for weak men. Get our booke let, D'v_)n t Tobacco Spit and Smoke Your Life Away.” Wiitten guarantee, fres sample, mailed for the asking. Address The Sterling Remedy Co., Chicagoor New York,