The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 21, 1898, Page 31

81 PR APV VI il S O T W lares — 3 e 2 7, i £ paniards : sembling of city shook to the so flving over the ¢ out their messag evidence that the Y :the range of their ere: Oeccasion of Morro tl s could br Ar S motith of th ish squadr E s begar Santiago Linares council %5073 % % %% %N % NED IN CUBA natural. In fact he feels no fear. How he made his way to Havana: how he gained the confidence of Gen- T and succeeded in learning al ts of the defenses of that ed to carry his in- of night to _the an vessels off Ha- lly he arrived with letter of introduction Cuba and there entered »n the work of a spy to furnish in- ion to Admiral Sampson and ral Shafter of the American in- vading force is a long story, which can- not be told here. His future movements are of more pressing importance. »u leave us to-night, senor?” asked as Mr. Ostend left the room. s; time is precious. My men must led secretly, and I go to hurry forward to the defense of Santi- valuabl antiago de ware of the tricky Americans.” were the last words of Linares d mounted fleet horse. ed, “I think that I a Yankee trick or two myself.” Mr. Ostend rode out through the rn approach to the city a solitary d The stranger s movement was Mr. Ostend, whose watch- rved everything that came range of the sion. He was d because he could not remem- ber that he had ever seen t.is person before; but the acts of the stranger i betrayed clearly that he recog- Ostend. The dangers around me are thick- ng,” he thought as he rode for- ward more rapidly. I must hurry or that man may prevent me from mak- ing my expected visit to Admiral stranger In turn hurried on. He all the roads to San- he was saluted by several he passed, indicating that n of importance. Once get from an officer the This was given LR R R R R all the sentries. RRBBURNARN 58 %8 % 3 223 8 LITTLE GIRL OF OAKLAND. 2 - 3 @ HE nniest little girl of them all @ Is the Oakland girl, T guess @ s She learns to race when she is small, o > And can beat the fast express. s - For the first thing graven on her small brain 3 = /e must catch the II:IT train.” 2 e @ = And all her nights and all her days i o Are haunted by some old clock, 3 e Whose every tick too plainly says, P s “The train is on the next block.” @ = And oft she jumps, grabs her dolly’s clothes, 34 > 1 says, ‘“Tis time to run, I ’spose.” $8 8 BRn® RERERBLRRY uxzusn!’.z&a%uu:&&,’:&i eant announces that wishes to speak with , the commander of the in the city. He is bid- and he shortly is engaged ‘You bring late ne from the front, sehor?” asked Linare soldlers are ve landed that can s a large fleet of trans y, bringing other thousands.” “Let them cc * said Linares grim- t fleet of Admiral is not to go forth American fleet, per- 1I¥ Cervera’s comm niral will be able to help s big guns to hold the city agginst the attack by land.” Jow is that?” demanded Senor Car- go.out?"” toy The general’s lips trembled with sub- but his answer was dued e e place for the sarcast fleet,” he said neer; “here the adniiral a time, after his d across the great and his Cervera leaped to his feet d was upon the hilt of the “Enough, brave said; “no longer will you portunity to hint at coward- part. Were the occasion dif- t you would be cor 1 to take back your words As it now is—" The e ne finished. gose to go. His face h” anger and he con- ~tralled his r only with much dif- flculty posed Senor Car- for_the friends The King has no friends that h Save the edges of your » of your 1 ers for th His words pre P neral Lin- -ares and Admiral C resumed their conference. Official secr were fuly consldered. enor Carvaljo had the full confidence of both commanders. rd The com- manders of the Spa 1 army and navy thought that he was a Mexican. He d.brought from General Blanco let- ters- telling of a Mexican expedition srhich’ would come to the aild of the anish In Cuba. Senor Carvaljo was sent ahead of the expedition to make arrangements for the Mexican volun- teérs: So ran the letters of General Blanco to General Linares, and Gen- .eral Linares believed. : Look carefully at Senor Carvaljo as he-passes out from the council cham- :ber, after he has learned all the plans of the Spaniards. Have you ever seen him before? Surely there is somehing familiar in the brave eyes which now ha a look of triumph in them. This lFanor Carvaljo is no other than the Ydaring Harry Ostend! How adroit and .daring he Is you may not have known -fully. Once his identity is known to the Spaniards, his life is not worth a rush. ‘Knowing all this he is playing a great _part for the sake of his natlve land. :The smile upon his handsome face is ‘He ‘was not a without hesitation, and he spurred on. He went directly to General Linares’ headquarters and asked to see the eral upon important business. “Welcome, Ramirez,” said the gen- eral as the new-comer entered—for the stranger was no other than the treach- erous Cuban, who was now acting as a Spanish spy. 0 general, but I have come to tell you that a most dangerous an spy has just left the city. I im as I rode in.” ‘A spy—who is he—this wonderfully - it T /AJM\ | i dangerous person?” “He is none other than Ostend, who is the most skillful and daring of all Americans engaped In the secret serv- ice.’’ “We will see.” In a few minutes a Spanish sergeant at the head of a squad of Spanish horsemen darted from the city in hot pursuit of Mr. Ostend. Beside the ser- geant rcde Ramirez. He had again to Dlan to save himself from possible vengeance for the death of Binnie and Ned, for he supposed them to be dead. Ostend would learn the truth the spy knew: but with Ostend in the hands of the Spanish as & spy to be tried and convicted there would be mothing for him to fear—only the Senorita Julia. Where was she? Seizing fresh horses in relay as they rode on, the Span- jards had no difficulty in gaining upon Mr. Ostend, In fact, as they fired their pistols to his attention, he turned in his saddle. Realizing the situation, he reined in his horse on the crest of a hill and walted for his pur- suers to come up. The Spanish spy glared a umphantly Mr. Ostend was taken back to the city as a prisoner. As they rode a bomb from an American ship fell near them and exploded. The Spaniards scattered one and all. Mr. Ostend only smiled coolly and made no attempt to escape. It was night be- fore the party were fairly in the city. Acting under the direction of Ramirez the Spanish sergeant took Mr. Ostend to a dungeon, in which he was to pass the night, it being too late to disturb the sy-going and banauet-loving General Linares, who was then enter- taining friends at dinner. Mr. Ostend slept as quietly and W y in his dungeon cell as he might have slept at home or upon the yacht California. His position was trul i cal. In a few hours General Linares would learn that th cans coming to his res him tri- cue and that the story Ostend had been compelled to tell to wet his confidence was false. Then Ostend would meet the tragic fate of the other spies—he would surely be shot—unless Binnie should come upon the scene. His thoughts traveled to Binnie and his last thought before he went to sl was. of Binnie, coupled with the that the adventurous lad and panion Ned might be safe; ar they might nét be brought into dar gers which they could not escape by following out his own instructions to them to meet him upon the road over which he had been traveling when he Mr. Ostend awoke suddenly. He saw the eyes of the sentry and knew him. From his pocket he took a fragment of paper and speedily wrote upon it these words: Admiral Sampson: ares have quarrele instructions from S harbor to es Cervera and Lin- “ervera will seek ain to dash from the . am a prisoner, held as a spy; may g)e shot to-morrow. Watch for Cervera. HARRY OSTEND. This he passed to Ned, who was by chance the sentinel. He took it and concealed it carefully. Soon after the sentinels in the jail were againchanged. Harry Ostend was awakened by the sound of rifle shots. These continued some minutes. Ned had succeeded In getting away on a log in the darkness and had drifted down in range of an electric searchlight on Morro Castle. The Spanish sharpshooters who were doing guard duty saw the log and opened fire upon it. Ved realized that his only chance to escape upon the tide, which was running out, toward the American fleet, was to keep perfectly gtill. Thus he might escape notice. Around him the water bubbled with the bullets, which came uncomfortably close, singing ver: pitefully. Twice the log was struck. Then a keen pain shot through Ned’s form. He knew that he had been shot in one arm—his right arm. Still he was motionless and did not cry out. The tide ran quite fast and he v soon out of range of the searchlight. The Spanish soldiers did not send out a boat, having been con- vinced that w they had fired at was y driftwood. Far, far away glimmered the lights of the American fleet. Ned now fear- ed that he would be compelled by weak- ness to let go his hold upon the log. THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, AUGUST 21, 1898. all the circumstances. Ned was now safe for the present; but what of Julla and Mr. Ostend? What of Binnie? Ramirez was in the city, interested in the fate of Mr. Os- tend. Ramirez might know Binnie and betray him. Binnie could not go away until he had tried to have Ramirez pun- ished. For this purpose Julia, Binnie and Ned had taken such great risk. Julia was a prisoner that Binnie might have an excuse for being in the city. ‘Would they all be shot? The day to come might bring disaster to all. (To be continued.) e Cozy in a corner of the big lounge she fes, Sleeping_in the shadows of her tight- closed eyes; Dreaming of play and the long, long day, And her dimpled little dollle, who never runs away, For (}r‘)llle keeps so still, and eyes opened wide, And she couldn’t go to sleep if she tried! ©Oh, you know, it wouldn’t do for the two to doze, For rats might nibble the little shoes—or brother girl's S— through her might come ‘With the rubby-dum of his new snare- drum! So, dollie, with pride, keeps her eyes open wide, And watches and waits at the little girl's side. THE CHIPMUNK’S STRIPE. By MINNEHAHA. Once upon a time the porcupine was appointed to be a leader of all the ani- mals. Soon after his appointment he called them all together and presented the question, “‘Shall we have night all the time and darkness or daylight with sunshine?” This was a very impor- tant question, and a violent discussion arose, some iwishing for daylight: and the sun to rule and others for contin- ual night. The chipmunk wished for night and day, weeks and months, and night to be separate from the days, so he began to sing “The Light Will Come; We Must Have Light,” which he continued to re- peat. Meanwhile the bear began sing- ing, “Night Is Best; We Must Have Darkness."” While the chipmunk was singing the day began to dawn. Then the other party saw that the chipmunk was pre- vailing, and was very angry, and their leader, the bear, pursued the chip- munk, who managed to escape uninjur- ed, the huge paw of the bear simply grazing his back as he entered his hole in a hollow tree, leaving its black im- print, which the chipmunk has ever since retained. But night and day have ever continued to alternate. LITTLE TIPS TRICKS. BY “E- 1% HEN papa brought Tip home first he just didn’t know any- thing—I mean Tip didn’t. And papa said to me: “Tip is only a young pup, Ethel, and you can easily teach him anything you wish. He will be a well NED IS FIRED ON BY THE SPANISH SOLDIERS WHILE HE MAKES HIS NIGHT was made a prisoner. When the moon rose late that night the light of the orb fell upon three per- sons who were journeying on horseback along the road leading to the eastern approach to the cty of Santlago de Cuba. One of thesé was a girl. The others were dressed as Spanish sol- dlers. One wore the uniform of a Spanish captain. The other was dress as a private in the Spanish infantry service. The officer led the way into the city and drove them to the prison in which Mr. Ostend was a prisoner. He led the way through the stone corridor and the light of a lantern fell upon the face of the girl. It was the Senorita Julia! The officer took a receipt from the jailer for the prisoner, and he then disappeared in the night. How did Julla come to be in this perilous position? She, who was known to be the holder of all the secrets of the Cubans who lived in the motntains of Eastern Cuba! * She, whose services for Cuba were considered to be so danger- ous to the Spanish arms that General Blanco had sent out a party to take her prisoner! She was here a captive. Who was the officer who had found her and brought her here! Disguise himself in the Spanish uniform as he may bhe can- not deceive us—not even when he has fastened to his face these fierce Spanish mustachlos. He is Binnle—and his com- rade, he who is dressed as the private Spanish soldier? He is surely Ned. Wonder of wonders and horror of hor- rors! Can it be that Binnie and Ned have turned traitors to Julia and to the cause of Cuba? When the guard was changed in the dungeon that night a sentinel stopped in front of the cell where Mr. Ostend was in durance, and looked with poor- ly disguised surprise at the prisoner. The wound that he had received bled steadily. He was not to end his career 0. An American launch, manned by men from the battleship Oregon, was out scouting. The low cry that Ned made for help was heard by the men on the launch. He was taken on board and carried the message that Harry Ostend had sent to Adn 1 Sampson. Ned went to the admiral’s cabin and delivered his m age. Then, over- come by the loss of blood, by his exer- tions and the citement and fatigue of several days of work, he reeled and fell fainting into Admiral Sampson's arms. The admiral gave an order that he should be well cared for, and Ned was placed in a bunk upon the flag- ship. It is necessary to explain here how Binnie, 'Ned and Julia came to enter the city of Santiago de Cuba in the manner already narrated. Julia dis- covered that the two boys were alive in the canyon where the Cubans and Spanish troopers went down. She nursed them carefully back to life. They had no bones broken, and, re- markable to say, neither was found to be seriously hurt. At the end of a few days they were ready to go forward together. They all agreed that the most important service they could per- form for Cuba at that time was to pre- vent Ramirez from telling all that he knew about the Cuban mountaineers, Having this end in view they directed their way toward Santiaso de Cuba. To enter the city Binnie devised the plan of a disguise for himself and for Ned. He still had in his possession the letter in which General Blanco had authorized the unfortunate Spanish captain t) arrest the Senorita Julia. It was a bold venture to go into Santiago as. a Spanish officer, but the boldest plan was undoubtedly the safest, under JOURNEY. behaved or a badly behaved doggie, Just as you make him.” I thought it would be great fun to teach Tip to be good, but, my—what a bother that dog was. He was lots worse than taking care of a doll. You have to put a doll away when you have done playing with it, for fear the baby will get it and break its head, and you have to remember not to leave it out on the grass, for fear it might get rained on, and things like that. But, dear me, Tip was worse than a dozen dolls. When I got tired of playing with him I couldn’t put him away, like I can Laura Louise, for he would follow me all over the house, whether I wanted him to go or not. Very often I did want him, but sometimes I didn’'t. He would shake shoes or hats or anything he could find about, and although I whipped him for it lots of times, he kept on doing it whenever he got a chance. Once he trotted after me down to Mollie Foster’s house. Mollie wanted to show me her new wheel, and while we were looking at it Tip pulled down Mollie's new summer hat from a chair and before I could stop him he bit off a big mouthful of daisies. Mrs. Foster said: “Gracious, what a bad dog! Don’t bring him here again, Ethel!” I didn’t blame her much, and Tip had chewed up all the daisies be- fore we could get them away from him. ‘Well, that made me feel very bad, of course. I never thought Mollle’s hat was very pretty, but it looked awful after Tip eat up those daisies. Mamma offered to buy Mollie some new flowers, but she wouldn't take ’em. She wore that dreadful hat for at least a month. I couldn’t help laughing every time I saw it. After that I tried harder to make Ti behave. It took me six months to teacl him not to tear up things he found on the floor. And I think even now he shakes things when I'm not looking at him. I wonder if mothers have as much trouble with their children as I have with Tip? And sometimes mothers have six children. Graclous! Suppose I had six Tips, and had to make them all behave. How awful it would be! But Tip did learn to behave himself a liztle better as he got older. One use- ful thing I taught him I must tell you about. Tip always loved to run out in the rain. When he came into the house again he would walk with his muddy feet all over the carpets and curtains. Sometimes he’'s jump up on the chairs. Mamma told me how bad it was of Tip and how dirty he made the furni- ture. lots of times, again. So I thought I would teach Tip to wipe his feet on the door mat when he I took him She drove him out of the parlor but he would come in came in from out of doors, WALKING IN THE COUNTRY. BY ALMA D. AHLERS. NE morning we got up very early, because we were going to the country. On the way we noticed many beautiful birds chirping merrily in the branches of the trees. Some bad boys were throwing stones at the birds. The mother bird was afraid that she could not get the little birds to fly away with her. After a little while the boys went away. Then we went on, and saw some COWS. Finally we came to a little brook, where horses came to quench their thirst, and we were so hungry that we sat under a tree to eat our lunch, because it was so cool. The flowers were very beautiful, and the grass was so high that Mary's Lttle feet got twisted in the grass and she tripped. OME right here, yo' picanniny, what's de matter wif yo’ now? Shet yo’ mouf an’ stop dat makin’ of a’ everlastin’ row. What's de matter wif yo’ apron? Why it’s wringin’ soppin’ wet; Tells yo' not to play in wata’; but yo’ ebry day forget. An’ I clar befo’ de Lawd, I gwine a beat yo' black an’ blue; Fo' dabblin’ in de wata,’ ’til yo' close is soppin’ frough! What yo' fink my time is good fo’a Jest to wash and iron yo’ close? I'se gwine a verigate yo' body, from yo’ neck down to yo’ toes. Twasn't wata’! Fink I'se blin’, chile? Wata'—melon did yo’ say? An’ yo' “broder’s got de odder half”; go call him right away. Tell him bring dat here dis minni tell him bring it here to me, An’ I let yo' off dat whippin’, jest fo' mercy, do yo’ see? out in the rain one day and Ralph— that's my big brother—saw me go and he said: “What are you going to do, Ethel?” I told him I was going to educate Tip and he said he’d come out and see me So I let Tip get his feet awful muddy and then I took hiia to the door mat on the porch and wiped his feet again and again till I made him understand what 1 wanted him to do. Ralph stood and laughed at me while I was doing it and every time Ralph jaughed Tip would stop wiping his feet She fell, but did not et hurt. We made wreaths of flowers and twined them around our hats. The orchard was filled with pear trees, and we went in and got a big pear and ate it. The grass was green, and there were little hills around. We rolled down the hill, and the little children found it much fun. THE CHILDREN’S FUN. The late Bill Nye was fond of telling this story of his little daughter: At BRRB/LEARRAIRRRIWRIIEIIREIEQELIIEERS Her mental lights R RURRBRERIIRNS and bark at Ralph. It was awful hard work, but I did make Tip know what I meant when I said: “Wipe your feet, Tip!" Then when I told him to do it himself he struggled and tried to get away and acted just like a bad little boy that doesn’t want to learn his lesson. But I persevered, though Ralph laughed and Tip barked and I felt very hot and uncomfortable all the time. I made Tip know what I meant, and then I made him do it when I told him. After that, whenever Tip ran into the house with muddy feet, if mamma or I said to him: *“Go, wipe your feet, Tip!"” he always ran out to the door mat and wiped them. It was such fun to see him do it! Papa says Tip taught me as much as I taught him. I don’t exactly know what he meant. But I often wonder if mamma had as much trouble teach- ing me to be good as I have teaching Tip. ate g i 1t was a very hot day, and little Hel- en having noticed her father looking at the thermometer several times, asked him about it. ‘““When it's away up,” he replied, “the weather is hot and when it's away down it's cool.” When he went to consuit it again later it had disappeared and he asked Helen what had become of it. “Why,” she replied, “I took zat old fermometer way down in ze cellar, so it would det tooler.” LITTLE GIRL OF BERKELEY. HE Berkeley small girl knows the most, That’s what the small boys say. The mortar board’s her choicest boast, And it makes her cute and gay. And she knows all about when the term begins, And who the football championship wins. At six she gets a taste of “ology,” At seven she knows a few small isms. At eight she owes to none apology— are clear as prisms! Next year she ransacks Poesy’s shelf; One reason may be she’s Nine herself. 3388828282&88sfifi{i!fiafififififisfl&flfl&fiflafififlfifififififig RURRRRIRRENNNRS the dinner table one day there was a party of guests for whom Mr. Nye was doing his best in the way of entertain- ment. A lady turned to the little girl. “Your father is a very funny man,” said she. ““Yes,” responded the child, “when we have company.” 2 It was the first time Johnny had ever heerd a guinea hen. “Oh, ma!” he shouted, ‘“‘come and hear the chicken a-windin’ itself up.” Gracle—Mamma, what does Santa Claus do after Christmas? Mamma—Why, he begins to collect toys for the following Christmas. Gracie—Oh, I know! He reads the pa- pers and watches out for hargain sales. AT BABY'S BEDTIME. By EBEN E. REXFORD. This is baby’'s bedtime; My little one comes to me In her snowy little nightgown, And kneels down at my knee; And I fancy a sweet child-angel Is for a time my fiuest. And she says her little gmyer over ith her hands upon her breast. “Now I lay me,” she whispers, In low voice, “down to sleep; I pray the Lord”—and the blue eyes alf close—‘my soul to keep. If I should die”—Oh! the shiver At my h - Then I Hft up the little one, clasping Her close to my loving heart And give her warm good-night kisses Till the closed lids break apart As the leaves o folding a flower, And the violets of her eyes Look up in their drowsy fashion, And smile at me angel-wise. “Dood-night,” she whisfiel‘! me softly And sleepily, with a kiss That lingers with me in slumber, And stirs my heart with bliss, As I think of the little one, dreaming, With her head against my breast; Till my sleep Is as full of rapture As her dreaming is of rest. G e “Ma, can’t I go to the show and see the wild man?” “No, child. Tl do the best I can for you. I'll iron all the buttonholes out of your father’s shirts.” SHE WENT OUT TO TEA. “My little girl, I hope you tried Your very best to be Quite ladylike and well behaved ‘When you were out at tea. “And that you said ‘Yes, if. you please,” ‘When things were offered you; Or, ‘No, I thank you,’ quietly, ust as I told you t “Well, mamma, dear, I smiled and said, ‘Yes, thank you,’ so polite; And, ‘If you please,’ and sat up straight, And always acted right. ; “I didn’t say, ‘No, thank you,’ though, Because, mamma, you see I wanted all they helped me to. ‘When I went out to tea.'