The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 24, 1896, Page 30

30 THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY. MAY 24, 1896. A GRAND NEPHEW OF ROBERT E. LEE, Recently Appointed to the Cadetship at West Point. -y~ Passed the ‘Searching Examina- tion With Exceptionally High Honors. The “Talk” of an Ex-Confcderate at a Grand Army of the Repub ic C mp Fire. The appointment of George Mason Lee of the famous Virginia stock of Lees to a cadetship in the United States Military Academy is a fitting tribute to one of America’s most renowned of many re- nowned families; besides, young Lee, who is only 19 years old, passed an examina- tion so highly creditable that he is per- mitted to enter West Point without being ! subjected to another, as is almost univer- " sally the case. Georze Mason Lee is a son of William Heunry Fitzhugh Lee, and is, therefore, the grandnephew of General Robert E. Lee. He will be the fourth of the Lee family to “go through” West Point, ard no doubt he will come away with as many honors as did his predecessors. It is said that George Mason inherits the natural mili- tary qualities of the Lees. He has servea two and a half years in the Virginia Mili- tary Institute, where he stood at the head of his class when he left, and also held the rank of color sergeant. But talking about youn: Lee's good for- tune sends my mind back to the long days, yes to the long years of the civil war, in which I participated on the side of the gray because, as the theosophists say, it was a Karmic law that sent me to that side. 1 cannot realize that thirty-five years have come and gone since I rode away with ‘“‘Pap” Price to have “alittle be- fore breakfast fun.”” “Breakiast” was not “announced’” wuntil after four vears had sunk into the everlasting past, but when it was announced there .was gladness everywhere. [t matters not now whether the war had to be or not, but one of the greatest and most enduring results of the strife is the feeling of admiration for the mightiness of the prowess of the blue and the gray which they entertained, the one for the other, and which makes the nations of the world admit that the American sol- dier has not now and never had a superior on the earth. This reminds me ot a “talk” an ex-Con- federate gave at a G. A. R. campfire, to which he had been most cordially and lovingly invited. After telling the regula- tion number of “jokes” he said: “The war is over. It has been over nearly a third of a century, and I am sorry to say that there are a few in the North who wore the blue and a few in the South who wore the gray who do not appear to know that hostilities ceased long yearsago. Butthat is because they do not know how the struggle was ended. I will tell you how I understood its closing to be. It was upon the field of Appomattox. The gray had been driven from hill to plain and from plain to bill, but upon every hill and upon every plain there was scattered that which told that proud and determined American manhood ! ad passed that way—the blue and the gray. ““Appomattox was reached, and there were no more hilis, no more plains, but a deep precipice stretched its roaring brink away to therightand away to the left. The gray stopped. The end had come, ‘But of the ending?' asked the gray, one of another. Endless lines of the blue moved steadily on in the mighty power of sublime purpose. There stood long hines of gray upon the brink of a yawning gap in the earth, so to speak. In the glory of proud self-respect and in the blaze of un- daunted courage they stood there. Then, out of the gloom of the abyss beyond, to which all eyes were drawn—the blue and the gray—ther: arose two sol- diers armed and equipped for deadiy struggle. Higher and still higher they arose until they reached higher than mountain top, where they paused. The gray divested himself of his implements of war, as did the blue. The blue and the gray and the gray and the blue wrapped the stars and bars around their guns; then, standing in the clasp of brotherly affection, raised their death-dealing muskets, wrapped in the bars and stars, and dropped them down deep into the ocean of eternal forgetful- ness, while out of the hearts of the long lines of the blue and the gray and the gray and the blue there came all unfurled the Stars and Stripes and drew all men unto them. Buta voice! It came down from the tand of wheat and corn—the land of plenty—and up from where the orance distills its perfume, and, like the voice of one sent from on high, it said: *Blue and gray, gray and blue, love one another.” It was the voice of Abraham Lincoln.” Of course there was not much to the ““talk,” but somehow it turned a stream of fraternal feeling which made the campfire burn as it never burned before. There weretwo or three ex-Confederates present, and such handshaking, such embracing, and so much of brother admiring brother I never before wiinessed. rade” all- the time, and » stranger could not have told which wore the blue and which the gray. After the “hartitack and sow belly’”” had been ‘‘issued” the comrades fell to telling war stories, but as the blues had :old theirs so often to one another they pressed the grays into doing the reminiscence act, and in arlendid good taste tuey confined e lhleir tales of war and fun to their own side. «*‘One of the most amusing incidents,” said a gray, “‘happened in Virginia. It is more or less a reflection upon a certain Mississippi regiment, but no matter. It was during one of those resting spells which soldiers take when on a long march by lounging about on the roadside. The ississippi regiment referred to was taking it very comfortably, and, as almost all soldiers do, poksd fun at straggling soldiers of other commands that happened to pass. A lean, long and lank North Caroiinan came along and at once the Mississippi boys began: ‘Hello, tarheel!” ‘Better stick a little more tar on, hadn’t you?' ‘Got tarin yourcanteen ?’ ‘1 say, are you from Buncombe County?’ ‘Bet” you are and have got a bottle of tar in your haversack!' ‘Tar up, old man, or you may run away with yourself.’” The North Carolinan held his peace until he reached the head of the regiment where the officers o1 the regiment and brigade were visiting, when he turned and faced his tormentors and with a foghorn voice said: ‘Yes, I'm a tarheel, and I want to say to you Mississippi fellers that 1f you had gut tar on your heels I reckon you wouldn’t have run so like the devil at Beven Pines.” He was allowed to move on It was “com- | in pence, for he called up recollections of vainful facts.” £ " ¢TI had an experience,” said another ‘kray, “that explains why some officers found it so easy to be elected to office after the war; how they happened to be so very opular with the home folks. I was acting Provest Marshai at Granada, Mis: and a supposed spy was brought in. I asked him to identify himself, whereupon he in- formed me that he belonged to the com- manding general’s engineer staff. I re- plied that I was personally acquainted with all the engineers in that wing of the department, nng that I notonly knew he was lying, but that he was a spy; further- more, I charged-him with being drunk. “‘He looked at me & fuil minute with what/ I thought was 4 most devilish grin. [ wanted him shot to aeath right then and there. After permitting me to work my- self into a rage he quietly said: ‘I insist that I belong to the general's engineer staif, but it is his biographical engineer staff. 1am the correspondent of the Mobile Register and am up here making great generals—on paper.” [ found his state- ment to be true, and I also found out how it happened that so many small generals are so greatand distinguished at home.”” A good many puthetic incidents were then recounted by both sides until the wee small hours had come, when'an old and battle-worn biue arose and said: ‘‘Com- rades of the gray and the blue, I am proud to say that America, my country, gave birth to so distinguished, so great and so pure a man as General Robert E. Lee.” Because he said that, and because he is & representative soldier of the army of the world’s greatest general, U. 8. Grant, I am glad that the roster of the United States army will again bear the name of a Lee. ARMOND. PLAYED THE ORIPPLE. Young Impostor Who Earned 88 a Day by the Work. If there really are more than a hundred professional becgars in the city who are trying to obtain money from credulous residents by pretending to be crippled or maimed the police have a zood deal of work to do before they can rid the city of the impostors. That the professionals are present here in large numbers, from Brooklyn, New York, Troy and other PIGEON POINT LIGHTHOUSE, One of ti fornia Coast, Guarding a Particula: and Treacherous Currents Prevail Been Wrecked in the Last Fifty Years. (Drawn from a photograph taken expressly for “ The Call.” | CAPTAIN WARNER, the Keeper of the | Pigeon Point Lighthouse. he Most Important Stations on the Cali- | rly Dangerous Locality Where Fogs . and Where Twenty Ships Have cities, is what the police were told yester- day by a 16-year-old boy, who admits that since he first played therole of & cripple in this city he has been collecting money steadily, sometimesas much as $8 in a day. This young fellow was arrested on State street. that he comes from Buffalo, N. Y., and that he ran away from home more than ten years ago. Only part of the boy’s story of his subsequent adventures is be- lieved by the police. He says he obtained work last summer at some of the reestau- rants at Coney Island. and that after the close of the season he went to New York, looking for work. There he met a mau who said he was a commercial traveler, but who proved to be ‘‘Brooklyn Billv,” well known as & professional beggar, who had made a cripple of himself by placing lime on his hand and leaving it too long. By this man, the boy says, he was introduced to aregular compeny af veggars, who took his right shoe to a cobbler and had the heel raised several inches. They made the youn, fellow wear that shoe, so he says, ang walk as if crippled. They also provided him with cardgon which was printed the | “Cripple’'s Appeal,” three stanzas of poor verse intended to affect the sensil ies of the tender-hearted. The boy took these cards to the ferries, to of- nces, or to railway stations, and there distributed them, collecting them after the holders had had time to read them, with wnatever moneg 1per:'ple were willing to give. “Brooklyn Billy” always followed the boy, to take charge of what- ever money was collected. When the police had heard the bov's story a telegram was sent to the adaress he gave in Buffalo, and awaiting the re- ceipt of a reply from the persons supposed to be the boy’s parents, he was locked up.— Boston Transcript. He says his name is James Fox, | | BOUT midway between San Francisco and Santa Cruz Pigeon Point projects its jagged reef into the waters of the Pacific. On ac- | " count of fogs and treacherous cur- | rents this locality has always been con- | sidered a dangerous one to navigation, and during the last fifty vears about twenty | vessels have been wrecked there. Most of the disasters, however, happened before the Government erected a lighthouse on the point in 1872, | Pigeon Point is the only cape of any im- | portance on the coast of California with an English name, but when, why or by Whom it was christened is not a matter of record in the lighthouse annals. There is certainly nothing about the place to sug- gest such a cognomen, nor are pigeons | generally seen in the immediate vicinity. | Old residents of Pescadero say that it got | its name from a carrier pigeon station that { was on the point years ago. The birds | were used to carry the names of ships to | San Francisco as soon as they were sighted. Of this there is no record, | but it is known that the Merchants’ | Exchange had a semaphore signal station | there in 1865. In weather when the sema- | phore could not be seen the dispatches | were sent by horseback riders. If pigeons | ever were used for the purpose, it must have been for a very short time, or many years previous. | The first work done by the Government | engineers on Pigeon Point was to put up | the fog signal. This was used for the first time on September 10, 1871. The work of | building the lighthouse tower was being GEORGE MASON LEE, Grand Nephew of Genmeral Robert E. Lee, Who Was Re. cently Appointed to a Cadetship at West Point After Passing the Examina- tion With Lxceptionally High Homors. He Is Only Sixteen Years of Age. PleEon | cupied by the lighthouseis as level as | eyes project each a pencil of light, which ~— o ——> Ponr 1 LIGHTHOVSE . R L] carried on at the same time, but progress Was necessarily slow, so that the [amp was not lichted until November 2, 1872. Since then no changes ot any kind have been made in the buildings on the station. Pigeon Point is about seven miles from Pescadero in San Mateo County. The road to it is a good one, and the station 1s well worth a visit. The lofty white tower can be seen from the top of the hill just outside of town, and remains in view until the place is reached. 5 When within balf a mile of the station it shows to the best advantage. Thepuild- ings are on a long reef that stretches from the m ainland into the ocean, the outerend jageed and ugly looking. The portion oc- floor and about twenty feet above water at hich tide. There is no sizn of & garden. Not even a plat of grass to rest the eye. Nothing but a gravel-covered rock as bar- ren as the top of a billiard-table. The most interesting thing about the station is, of course, the light tower, which is built of brick and located on the south- ernmost point of the cape. At the foot of the tower is a small brick building of two rooms, one used for supplies and the other for keeping the log and other records. The two rooms are divided by a hall, through which entrance is had to the tower. A spiral iron stairway leads to the top. Itis a long climb, winding round and round all the time, every footstep echoing and vibrating through "the tower like the roar of distant thunder. The whole upper por- tion of the tower isof iron and glass, so strongly put together that the fiercesy gales cause not the slightest jar. Pigeon Point light is of what is known as the first order. It gives a white flash every ten seconds, and on clear nights can be seen from Point Bonita. on the North Head of the Golden Gate. The flash is created in the usual manner by making the whole lens frame revolve around the lamp by a clockwork mechanism, operated by a weight. It makes one revolution every three minutes, and_eighteen bulis- are seen in succession from a certain point as they pass around. The light is produced by a Funk lamp that burns mineral oil. It has been in use about ten years and before that time lard | oil was used exclusively. Oil is fed to this lamp from a tank by means of a metal float that rests on the sur- face and forces it up into a small reservoir from which it flows to the four circular wicks. A series of valves and chambers make the oil feed automatic, so that the wicks get all they need, but no more. The focal plane of the lamp is exactly 100 feet above high tide. The lenses of the Pigeon Point light are as fine as any that were ever made and are said to have had quite 2 history before being placed in their pres- ent position. The lenses were made by Henry Lepaute in Paris, France, in 1854, The lighthouse records contain nothing of the early history of them, but the story is that they were first put up on pe Hatteras. They remained there until some time during ihe war of the Rebellion. It was while the opera- tions were- going on at Roanoke Island that the keepers feared that they would be destroyed by a shot from rome of the hostile fieet hovering in the vicinity and took them down and buried them. Some ! of the rebels must have’dug them up, for! the next that is known is that they were found in an old warehouse in New Orleans about 1868 As they were just what was wanted at Pigeon Point, they were sent out and put up in their present position. The fog-signal buildings are on the | western point of the cape, but are consid- | erably the worse for wear. They are four ! in number and contain duplicate sets of machinery and boilers. The whistles are of the common locomotive type, one of them having a ten-inch dome and the otber a twelve-inech. Fogs come up sud- denly at Pigeon Point, and during’ the winter the whistles will often be kept going for days at a time. ¢ At such times the fires are banked in the boilers when the fog lifts, but ordinarily they are simply laid ready to light at a moment’s notice. Wood is used at first and the boilers are so constructed that steam can be raised in less than forty min- utes. If the fog should come up very sud- denly and vessels are known to be near a bell is tolled until one of the whistles is blown. The keepers’ residence is a large build- ing built to accommodate four tamilies, and so arranged that each section is inde- pendent of the others. The outside isof a pretty design, and the inside is con- veniently arranged, although not orna- mental in any way. Each section has four rooms, one of them being fitted with a range and cooking utepsils by the Government. All of the buildings on the Pigeon Point station are painted a pure white with black or gray trimmings. The tower is white with the exception of the lantern, which is black. Atone time the Govern- ment used to allow the residences to be painted any color that suited tne tastes of the keepers, but now they can only be white with black or gray trimmings. Only black and white paint is suppiied and the keepers can mix this any way they please to get the desired shade of gray. The question of water has always been a serious one at Pigeon Point. For many years the keeper used to haul all they used for domestic purposes for a long dis- tance. At present the supply 1s good ex- ceptperhaps afew months late in the sum- mer. On one of the hills about a mile from the station a ten-acre rainshed has been ! built that during the winter season fills sev- | eral large tanks that hold nough to supnly | the boilers all summer. For domestic purposes a pipe has been laid a long dis- tance to a spring of very zood water. The spring is at such an elevation that the water is carried into all parts of the houses by the force of gravity. 2 Pigeon Point light station is in charge of Castnin Marner. He has four assistants, and during the foggy season the dutiesare most wearing. The location of the light tower in relation to the fog signal makes it impossible for one man to watch both even for a short time, and in very stormy weather it is necessary for two to be in the tower. The elevation of the tcwer makes it a marx for sea birds at night, and they frequently fly through the panes of glass in the lantern. These have to be replaced as quickly as possivly, and it cannot be done by one man, aithough glass is always kept ready cut and special clamps are on hand for the purpose. When the fog whistles have to bé kept going day and night the keep- ers find it almost impossible to get even a few minutes’ sleep, Captain Marner has been in the light- | house service for man: years. Atfirst he Wwas an assistant on t{e old tender Man- zanita, and took his present post about ten years ago. As Pescaaero is a summer resort, visitors come to the lighthouse by the dozens during the season. They seem to take a delight in climbing the tower and never lose interest in the lamp. Many of them will come day after day and make a trip up the spiral staircase. This isa mystery 10 the keepers. who fail to see what the Visitors can find to interest them after they have been there once. | its table, its knives and forks and spoons AN APOLOGY 10 MBS, M Containing a Brief Account of Some Human Ambitions That Have Changed for the Bet- ter and a Further Proof That External Ap- pearances May Be -Deceptive. I have a habit—the growth of some ex- perience at side stations—of automatically passing a napkin over my plate as I turn it up and listen to the formula repeated by the fresh ana sometimes pretty country girl who stands beside the table and says, in one long breath, “Hamandeggsroast- muttonroastbeefcornbeefandcabbage!” And I am writine this now with con- trite spirit and in the bope of assuaging somewhat the pang I may have caused Mrs. Mac one evening last week when she stood beside me and repeated the usual formula in words pleasingly tinged with reminiscences of the land that is famous for stews and bakea potatoes. Mrs. Mac was neither a fresh nor a pretty country girl, but a good, motherly soul and a connoisseur of neatness and cleanliness. I may not have wiped her plate with my napkin—certainly it needed no further polishing—but I may have done so unthinkingly; therefore this apology. Wia SRR e e ‘Who is Mrs. Mac? Ask the question of any drummer who travels the San Joaquin Valley—and he will argue from it your own obscurity. He may also tell you that she is the plump and hospitable little woman who cooks | the best steak in California—he may say “in the world”’—for drummers are prone | to exaggeration. He will probably be shy | about telling you where to find Mrs. Mac, however, for drummers are jealousof their treasures, and then, too, like those unac- quainted with the wonderful aroma of the ‘Arcadian mixture” you may not be worthy of knowing. But I am not jealous and have decided to take risks on the latter point, trusting to the fate which guards choice secrets from fools, that only the worthy will read these lines. Know, then, O reader, that Mrs. Mac is part owner and part ruler of the tiny and sole hotel at Goshen Junc- tion, and that Goshen Junction is on the main line, about midway bestween Han- ford and Visalia, neither of which enjoys Goshen’s distinction of being on the main line. The other partner is J. F. McLaugh- lin, a very worthy and elderly gentleman, who has, aside from his half interest in | the tiny Goshen Hotel, also a life interest | in that jewel among all the side-station | hostesses of the universe—Mrs, Mac. Hs ln ia e e S MeniE oy 1 have an evil genius, perhaps a bad | Karma inherited for evil thoughts in a past incarnation, that prompts me to dreadful mental pictures and thoughts when I have the least use for them. I am trying hard, by righteousness and early piety, to live down this evil Karma and its harrowing suggestions, for I believe that mind can rule not only matter, but these impalpable things as well. Iam also a believer in—but I will tell that another time. The task now in hand is to explain the trepidation with which I pushed open the outer door of the Goshen Hotel last Tuesday evening. My mind was filled with midnight robberies at lonely road | houses. I thought of the murder of the | rich traveler at the roadside inn as told i a quiet tip that ““Mrs, Mac’. best on the road.” The tip was appreciated, but superfluous. I had already forgotten all my stock of old English roadside murder tales. WS- LSS EEHEE S 8 g After supper I sat in front of the big open grate and felt comfortable in body, mind and soul. . “Have a cigar, mister?” and the host held an open box in front of me. I was surprised, for this was contrary to my previous training. You know the rule at the railway stations. You pay for all you get; you pay double city prices and vou get inferior goods for the money. Travelers are the fair game of railway sta- tion innkeepers. Thatisa maxim and a truism. But I was even more surprised when I found the cigar smoked freely, tasted pleasantly and gave forth a not unpleas- ing aroma. Just then one of the drum- mers departing for his train stooped over and whispered to me, “Mac and his wife are too good for this business; I believe they'd give you half their earnings if you asked forit."”” And I was ready to believe this. Half an hour later the papers arrived on the train from San Francisco. Mrs. Mac brought them in and pointed out to Mr. Mac the article which told of Superinten- dent Weaver of the Almshouse having re- quested Dr. Williamson to change his vote so that the politicians might at last gain their coveted prize and their spoils of pat- ronage. ‘‘Poor man,’’ said Mrs. Mac. “ suppose he is tired of the long struggle.” And then I ventured into the conversa- tion, because I was interested a bit in this piece of news. ‘It was that man who is responsible for the legisiative act that requiresa three- fourths vote to remove the superintendent of a county institution,” said Mrs. Mac, and she pointed to the only other man in the room beside myself. | I was interested; reminiscences fol- | lowed, and presently I became possessed | of what seemed to be a very neat little ro- mance. » table is the LR L, S S ) Itis not at all exciting, this romance, but 1t presents a strange and unusual con- trast. Not that of power, influence, popu- larity among men and usefulness in pub- lic affairs, faded into dull poverty and hapless obscurity, for that is common enough. But here was a man and woman who once had high ambitions; these am- bitions are gone now, but in their stead have come peace and cheerfulness and char- ity. Mr. McLaughlin has beea a success- ful man, for at last success is only the relative attainment of one’s present ambitions. J. F. McLaughlin was once a power in San Francisco politics. A few years ago when Clerk Russell of the Board of Supervisors was asked what superin- tendent had run the Industrial School— now the Branch County Jail—with the greatest economy and most satisfaction to the pubiic he replied atonce, *J. K. M- Laughlin is the man.” > And this is the mud-mannered, white- haired little gentleman who rons the tiny Goshen Hotel. His ambitions now are to vlease his guests and these ambitions are more completely realized than were those of Stanford. McLaughlin flourished during Stanford’s greatest period of popularity. He was a pieasing stump speaker and a valued vis- itor at all political meetings. That is how he came to be superintendent of one of the largest county institutions. He remained at the head of the Industrial School for eight years, a longer period than any of his predecessors had enjoyed. To his honesty he owed his downfall with the politicians. He lost favor with them as well as with certain large and in- fluential contractors because he would not stoop to their conceptions of a public trust. J. B. Stetson and Mr. Gibbs, the wealthy hardware merchant, were on the Board of Supervisors when the politicians first be- gan to hate McLaughlin and try to oust him. At one of the.committee meetings— so an old newspaper clipping records—J. B. Stetson testified that he had heard Mec- Laughhn denounced by certain ward poli- * s | ticians because he had turned $19,000 into the City treasury that should have gone to “the gang.” One of the big clothing merchants, who was not a contractor, though he had sought for the contract and failed to secure it, being also an honest man, testified at the same time that Mc- Laughlin had refused to accept a present from him of a suit of clothes. This was in 1881. A year later McLaughlin was no longer at the head of the Industrial School. Resrunnd! The Modest Hotel at Goshen Junction That Is Celebrated in the Valley for the Hospitalities of Mrs. Mac. in “The Bells,” in “Jonathan Bradford,” in “Eugene Aram” and in all those old English murder novels and plays, and I thought “What a likely place is this for another murder mystery to-night.” Of course, I struggled against these harrow- ing visions then as I always do, but for all they were very vivid as I pushed open the door and stood ready to be surveyed by the ill-visaged, roughly clad men that 1 ‘was surprised not to see in the barroom. In their stead I saw a kindly faced, gray- haired man, dressed neatly, though far from fasbionably, all alone in a good sized room with a big, old-fashioned oven grate and a high par and its furnishincs as its most distinguishing features. He took my luggage, put it away in an odd corner, then led me to a tiny washroom where the towels were really clean, the soap plenti- ful and the'comb quite possible for even a far more fastidious traveler than myself. I wanted a meal and a bed for four hours and the surety of being aroused in time to catch the very early morning train to Fresno. How delicious that meal was, how tender and junicy the steak, how perfectly cooked the potatoes, what delight- ful lack of sogginess there was to the bis- cuits. how clean that little dining-room, and plates, how welcome were Mrs. Mac's words of solicitous inquiry concerning the valatableness of her several dainty yet homely dishes, cooked and served by her own hand—all of these things can never be appreciated by one who has not served his apprenticeship at the side stations in the San Joaquin Valley—or at side stations and cross-roads in some part of the globe. Two drummers supped at the same table | with me. They spoke affectionately to ‘Mrs. Mac,” and at intervals when her back was turned, they generously gave me I slept very sound!y and quite fearlessly that night for three hours under the modest roof of the only hotel at Goshen Junction. There was no book in which to register, and no one asked me my name. The score I had to pay, I found, was very modest, yet McLaughlin asked me to have another cigar and something warm to drink before T went out into the darkness and coldness of 2 A. M. and caught the train for Fresno. Luke NorTH. —_— QUEER DRINKING OUPS. Custom of Using Skulls for This Pur- Ppose an Old One. The barbarous custom of converting the skulls of enemies into drinking cups was & common one in ancient times among the fierce tribes of Northern EBurope, and was not unknown to the people of the more civilized regions further south. The Ital- ian poet, Marino, causes an assemblace of friends to quaff their wine from the skull of Minerva, and in his “Wonder of a Kingdom" Torrent makes Dakker say: Would I nad ten thousand soldiers’ heads, Their skulls set all in silver, to drink healths To his contusion who first invented war. ‘Themas Middleton, a dramatic writer of the early part of the seventeenth century, is believed to be the originator of the phrase, “‘a soldier’s drinking-cup,” as ap- plied to a human skull. fn “The Witch,” one of his most celebrated plays, the duke takes a bowl, which he is told isa human skull, whereupon he exclaims: Call it a soldier’s cup. Our duchess, I know, will pledge us, though the cu; Was Guice her father's head, which as a trophy We'll keep till death. One of the delights of the immortals, as Tepresented in the old Seandinavian sagae, is thatof drinking to drunkenness from skulls 6f vanquished foes. 10 LIVING DEATH EO FOUR WOMEN, Sisters of Charity to Nurse the Hapless Lepers of Louisiana. Daughters of St. Vincent de Paul Go Smilingly to Their Awful Duties. Departure of the Brave Little Band for the Outcasts’ Retreat at Indian Camp. *‘Bound for the leper land !” There was a pause in the busy rush on the levee, says the New Orleans Picayune, men gathered in hushed groups at the river bank, and every hat was doffed as four dark-robed women made their way through the expectant throng to the land- ing of the Paul Tulane. Who were they? Ah! who can tell the identity of the Sisters of Charity—those sweet, soft-yoiced women who move along the rough paths of the world making no louder noise than the rustle of an angel’s wings, with the light of heaven in their eyes and the touch of the unseen world in their gentie hands. Aud these four nuns? They were hero- ines ey one of them, albeit they went so quietly on their way, taking up with willing hands and of their own volition a work at which the strongest man might quail. It was the sunset hour; the iast rays lit up with an aureole of splendor the big ships lying at their moorings, as the little group of nuns swiftly stepped over the plankway of the Paul Tulane, and again was heard in hushed whispers the words which sealed their fate, “They are bound for leper land.” Presently the four nuns were joined by Sister Agnes, the veteran superioress of the corps of charity hospital nurses, and Sister Mary Jane, the equally heroic di- rectress of the Louisiaua retreat. Andi: this trio of forces was at once represented the most exalted and self- sacrificing devotion of the Daunghters of St. Vincent de Paul—the care of tbe sick and insane and the outcast ones of earth. Since its organization the Sisters of Charity have had the care of the New Orleans charity hospital and the retreat for the in- sane; to these self-appointed duties they have now taken up the care of the lepers, those unhappy God-forsaken people, whose pitiable and unfortunate condition some four years ago roused the indignation of the entire community and brought forth the reforms in the leper management which have redounded so much to the bet- terment of the condition of those suffering outcast ones, and which have culminated in the fruition of a cherished hope—the placing of the lepers under the kind and watchful care of the Sisters of Charity. The history of the present board of di- rectors of the lepers’ hospital, the removal of these helpless people to the pleasant re- treat at Indian Camp, in the heart of one of the most beautiful and salubrious sec- tions of Louisiana, the movement inaugu- rated to place the home under the direct supervision of the Sisters of Charity, to- gether with all the correspondence on the subject between the board of directors, Archbishop Janssens and the superioress of the order in Emmetsburg, Md., have been faithfully chronicled, and now comes the last and most beautiful chapter in this work of helping the most miserable and outcast of God’s creation—the arrival in New Orleans of the volunteer band of nuns who had offered themselves for this iso- lated work, and who, with one other that had labored long and faithfully in our midst, have devarted for the scene of their future life and labors. One who will act as superioress of the little band of Sisters of Charity in the Lepers’ Home comes from far off Massa- chusetts. She is Sister Beatrice, and for twenty-two years has been sister superior- ess in charge of the large charity hospital in Lowell, Mass.; Sister Agnes of the New Orleans Hospital, than whom none is more competent to judge, spoke of the work accomplished in Lowell by Sister Beatrice, the building up of the great hos- pital under her careful household manage- ment, the care given the sick, and the willingness with which she laid down this charge to which she had become devoted!ly attached through long association to de- vote her life t6 the amelioration of the condition of the neople in the leper land in the far South. Sister Beatrice was joined on the way to New Orleans by Sister Mary Thomas of La Salle, Ind., and Sister Cyril. Arriving here, Sister Annie, who for ten years, day in and day out, has served in the chanty hospital wards, was ready to go on the humane mission. In the early morning the noble and heroic band was visited by Archbishop Janssens and received his blessing on their work. Then as the hour drew near for the de- parture of the steamer, with a full con- sciousness of the difficulties and pains, de- privations and dangers of the life to which they had pledged themselves, they boarded the vessel, and here the reporter met them, and almost the first words put to their brave leader, Sister Beatrice, were th Is there no feeling of nesitancy now that the critical moment has arrived, and you must leave all those associations which time has made so dear to take up your life among a’sad, desolate and out- cast people? Do you feel no fear?” “Hesitancy 2’ she inquired, with a he- roic challenge in her soft eyes. “Why should a Sister of Charity hesitate? Are we not pledged to a life of self-sacrifice and devotion to humanity? And associations? Dearer ties were broken long agzo to follow the voice that called from within to higher things—and—"" she faltered, ‘‘you spoke of the sad and desolate? An experience of twenty-two years in a charity hospital has brought me face to face with so much sor- row, so much suffering, that I think even in a leper land no deeper chords of human woe could be sounded. And fear?—fear,” she smiled—“‘why shoula we fear? Isnot God watching over the leper home, and will he not take care of his children—wae and they, for they are our brothers? We are children of a common father.” The dromedary parcel post service in the German territories of Southwestern Africa has given results better than were expected. The dromedaries are adapted to the climate, are not affected by tne prevalent cattle diseases, are not made footsore in stony regions and do not suffer extreme thirst when deprived of water for a week. They travel, each carrying a :vmzht of 250 pounds, as fast as an ox eam.