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ISSTTED SEm-WEEHL^ l. h. oeist's sons, pnbu?her?. } % ^amilg Uetrapper: 4or (he promotion of (he political, jjotial, ^flritnllnral, and Cammeiyial Interests of the feogle. 1 ter"8mom^oi^ frociimf''68' ESTABLISHED^!^ YOEKYILLE, S. O., SATURDAY, AUGUST 1, 1903. NX). 61. 1 ~ ^*a*' ^i a?>am?> 1A viena In onflAn onH By WILL N. Hi Copyright, 1902, by Harper Bros. All CHAPTER VII. SLAN made his way along the wall, out of the track of the promenaders, into the office, anxious to escape being spot>y any one. But here several Jovial men from the mountains who knew him intimately gathered around him and began to make laughing remarks about his dress. "You look fer the world like a dirt dauber." This comparison to a kind of black wasp came from Pole Baker, a tall, heavily built farmer, with an enormous head, thick eyebrows and long, shaggy hair. He lived on Bishop's farm and had been brought up with Alan. 'Til be derned ef you ain't nimble on yore feet, though. I've seed you cut the pigeon wing over on . Mossy creek with them big, strappin' gals 'fore you had yore sights as high as these town folks." "It's that thar vest that gits me," said another. "I reckon it's cut low so you won't drap saft victuals on it but I guess you don't do much eatin' with that collar on. It don't look like yore Adam's apple could stir a peg under it" With a good natured reply and a laugh he did not feet Alan hurried out of the office and up to his room, where he had left Lis lamp burning. Rayburn Miller's hat and light overcoat were on the bed. Alan sat down in one of the stiff backed, split bottom chairs and stared straight in front of him. Never in his life had he suffered as he was now suffering. He could see no hope ahead; the girl he loved was lost to him. Her father had heard of the foolhardiness of old man Bishop and, like many another well meaning parent, had determined to save his daughter from the folly of marrying a penniless man who had doubtless inherited his father's lack of judgment and caution. There was a rap on the closed door, and Immediately afterward Rayburn Miller turned the knob and came in. His kindly glance swept the face of his friend, and be said, with forced lightness: "I don't want to bore you, old mau, but I Just had to follow you. I saw from your looks as you left the ballroom that something was wrong, and I am afraid I know what it is. You see, Captain Barclay is a rough, outspoken man, and he made a remark the other day which reached me. 1 wasn't sure it was true, so I didn't mention it; but 1 reckon my informant knew what he was talking about." Alan nodded despondently. "1 asked her to go to church with me tomorrow night. She was awfully embarrassed and finally told me of her father's ob Jections." "I think I know what fired the old devil up," said Miller. "You do?" "Yes. It was that mistake of your father. As I told you, the colonel is as mad as a wet hen about the whole thing. He's got a rope tied to ever} nickel he's got, and he Intends to leave Dolly a good deal of money. He thinks Frank Hlllbouse Is just the thing. He shows that as plain as day. He noticed how frequently you came to see Dolly and scented danger ahead and simply put his foot down on it, just as fathers have been doing ever since the flood. My dear boy, you've got a bitter pill to take, but you've got to swallow It like a man. You've reached a point wbere two roads fork. It is for you to decide wbicb one you'll take." Alan made no reply. Rayburn Miller lighted a cigar and began to smoke steadily. "It's none of my business," Miller burst out suddenly, "but I'm friend enough of yours to feel this tbing like the devil. However, I don't know what to say. I only wish I knew how far you've gone into it." Alan smiled mechanically. "If you can't look at me and see bow far I've gone, you are blind," he said. "I don't mean that," replied Miller. "I was wondering how far you had committed yourself?oh. hang it!? maae iove ana an mat sort or imng. "I've never spoken to her on the subject." Alan Informed him gloomily. "Good, good! Splendid!" Alan , stared in surprise. "I don't understand." he said. "She knows?that is, 1 think she knows? how I feel, aud 1 have hoped that"? "Never mind about that." interrupted Miller laconically. "There is a chance for both of you if you'll tarn square around like sensible human beings and look the facts in the face." "You mean"? "That It will be stupid, childish Idiocy for either or both of you to let . this thing spoil your lives." "I don't understand you." "Well, you will before I'm through with you. and I'll do you up brown. There are simply two courses open to you, my boy. One is to treat Colonel Barclay's wishes with dignified respect and bow and retire just as any European gentleman would do when told that his pile was too small to be considered." "And the other?" asked Alan sharply. "The other is to follow in the footsteps of nearly every sentimental fool that ever was born and go around looking like a last year's bird's nest or, worse yet, persuading the girl to elope and thus angering her father so that ' he will cut her out of what's coming to her and what is her right, uiy boy. She may be willing to live on a bread &ORT?M Author of , "Westerfelt." rights reserved. "if# none of my business," Afiller burst out suddenly. and water diet for awhile, but she'll lose flesh and temper in the long run. If you don't make as much mouey for her as you cause her to lose, she'll tell you of it some day or, at least, let you aao. it nrwi thnt's as lone as it's wide. You are now giving yourself a treatment in self hypnotism, telling yourself that life has not and cannot produce a thing for you beyond that particular pink frock and yellow head. I know how you feel. I've been there six different, times, beginning with a terrible long tirst attack and dwindling down as I became inoculated with experience till uow the complaint amounts to hardly more than a momentary throe when I see a fresh one in a train for an hour's ride. I can do you a lot of good if you'll listen to me. I'll give you the benefit of my experience." "What good would your devilish experience do me?" said Alan impatiently. "It would fit any man's case if he'd only believe It. I've made a study of love. I've observed hundreds of typical cases and watched marriage from ? - ? ivi.Aftinrtf/i/1 tllnooo Ar lDCUpilUU liiruugu piunaticu iuu&oo v* boredom down to dumb resignation or sudden death. I don't mean that no lovers of the ideal, sentimental brand are ever happy after marriage, but I do believe that open eyed courtship will beat the blind sort all hollow and that in uine cases out of ten, if people were mated by law according to the judgment of a sensible, open eyed jury, they would be happier than they now are. Nothing ever spoken is truer than the commaudment, 'Thou shalt have uo other God but me.' Let a man put anything above the principle of living right, and he will be miserable. The man who holds gold as the chief thing in life will starve to death in Its cold glitter, while a pauper in rags - * *- A -t Uk ikA will nave a mugu lum rings ?uu tuc music of immortal joy. Iu the same way the mau who declares that only one woman is suited to him Is making a god of her. raising her to a seat that won't support her dead, material weight. I frankly believe that the glamour of love is simply a sort of insanity that has never been correctly named and treated because so many people have been the victims of It." "Do you know," Alan burst in almost angrily, "when you talk that way I think you are off. I know what's the matter with you?you have simply frittered away your heart, your ability to love and appreciate a good woman. Thank heaven, your experience has not Hoam mInn! T Hnn't coa Iiato rrtn nnnlH UVViJ uuuv < vtvu I OVW UV M J VU VVWtV* ever be happy with a woman. I couldn't look a pure wife in the face and remember all the flirtatious you've Indulged In?that is. if they were mine." "There you go," laughed Miller. "Make It personal. That's the only way the average lover argues. I am speaking in general terms. Let me finish. Take two examples?first, the chap crazily in love, who faces life with the red rag of his infatuation? his girl. No parental objection, everything smooth and a carload of silverware. a clock for every room In the house. They start out on their honeymoon. doing the chief cities at the biggest hotels and the theaters in the three dollar seats. They soon tire of themselves and lay it to the trip. Every day they rake away a handful of glamour from each other till, when they reach home, they have come to the conclusion that they are only human, and not the highest order at that. For awhile they have a siege of discontent, wondering where it's all gone. Finally the man is forced to go about his work, and the woman gets to making things to go 011 the backs of chairs and trying to spread her trousseau over the next year, and they begin to court resignation. Now, If they had not had the glamour attack they would have got down to business sooner, that's all, and they would have set a better exaujple to other plungers. Now for the second .illustration: Poverty on one side, hoodie on the other; more glamour than in other case because of the gulf between. They get married; they have to. They've inherited the stupid ideu that the Lord is at the bottom of it and that the glamour is his smile. Like the other couple, their eyes are finally opened to the facts, and they begiu to secretly wonder whut It's all about. The one with the spondulics wonders harder than the one who had none. If the man has the money, be will feel good at first over doing so much for his affinity, but if he has an eye for earthly values?and good business men have?there will be times when he will envy Jones, whose wife had as many rocks as Jones. Love and capital go together like rain and sunshine; they are productive of something. Then if the woman has the money and the man hasn't there's tmcpdv?a slow cutting of throats. She is Irresistibly drawn with the rest of the world Into the thought that she has tied herself and her money to an automaton, for such men are Invariably lifeless. They seem to lose the faculty of earning money?in any other way. And as for a proper title for the penniless young idiot that publicly advertises himself as worth enough, in himself, for a girl to sacrifice her money to live with him?well, the unabridged does not furnish it. Jack Ass in billboard letters would, come nearer to it than anything that occurs to me now. I'm not afraid to say it, for I know you'd never cause any girl to fflve up her fortune without knowing at least whether you could replace It or not." Alan arose and paced the room. '"That." be said as he stood between the lace curtains at the window, against which the rain beat steadily?"that Is why 1 feel so blue. I don't believe Colonel Barclay would ever forgive her. and I'd die before I'd make her lose a thing." "You are right" returned Miller, relighting his cigar at the lamp, "and he'd cut her off without a cent I know him. But what is troubling me is that you may not be benefited by my logic. Don't allow this to go any further. Let her alone from tonight on, and you'll find in a few months that you are resigned to It just like the average widower who wants to get married six months after his loss. And when she is married and has a baby she'll meet rrm n?i thu Rtrppt nnd not care a raD whether her hat's on right or not Sht will tell her husband all about It and allude to you as her first second or third fancy, as the case may be. I have faith in your future, but you've got a long, rocky row to hoe, and a thing like this could spoil your usefulness and misdirect your talents. If I could see how you could profit by waitiug, I'd let .vour flame burn unmolested; but circumstances are against us." "I'd already seen my duty," said Alan In a low tone as he came away from the window. "I have an engagement with her later, and the subject shall be avoided." "Good man!" Miller's cigar was so short that be stuck the blade of his penknife thrpugb it that be might enjoy it to the end without burning his lingers. "That's the talk! Now I must mosey on downstairs and danct* with that Miss Fewclothes from Rome ?the one with the auburn tresses that says 'delighted' whenever she is spoken to." Alan went back to the window. The rain was still beating on it For a long time he stood looking out Into the blackness. The bad luck which had come to bis father had been a blow to him. but its later offspring had the grim, cold countenance of death itself. He bad never realized till now that Dolly Barclay was so much a part of bis very life. For a moment he almost gave way to a sob that rose and struggled within bim. He sat down again and clasped bis hands before him in dumb self pity. He told himself that Rayburn Miller was right; that only weak men would act contrary to such advice. No. it was over?all. all over. CHAPTER VIII. FTER the dance Frank Hlllhouse took Dolly home in one of the drenched and bespattered hacks. The Barclay residence was one of the best made and largest in town. It was an old style southern frame house, painted white, and bad white columned verandas on two sides. It was In the edge of the town and bad an extensive lawn in front and almost a little farm behind. Dolly's mother had never forgotten that she was once a girl herself, and she took the most active Interest In everything pertaining to Dolly's social life. On" occasions like the one just described she found It Impossible to sleep till her daughter returned, and then she slipped upstairs and made the girl tell all about it while she was disrobing. Tonight she was more alert and wideawake than usual. She opened the front door for Dolly and almost stepped on the girl's heels as she followed her upstairs. "Was it nice?" she asked. "Yes; very." Dolly replied. Reaching her room, she turned up the low burning lamp and, standing before a mirror, began to take some flowers out of her hair. Mrs. Barclay sat down on the edge of the high posted mahogany bed and raised one of her bare feet and held it in her hand. She was a thin woman, with iron gray hair, and about fifty years of age. She looked as if she were cold, but for reafcons of her own she was not willing for Dolly to remark it. "Who was there?" she asked. "Oh, everybody." "Is that so? I thought a good many would stay away because It was a bad night, but I reckon they are as anxious to go as we used to be. Then you all did have the hacks?" "Yes; they had the hacks." There was a pause, during which one pair of eyes was fixed rather vacantly on the image in the mirror. The other pair, full of impatient inquiry, rested alternately on the image and its maker. "I don't believe you had a good time," broke the silence in a rising, tentative tone. "Yes; I did, mother." "Then what's the matter with you?" Mrs. Barclay's voice rang with impatience. "I never saw you act like you do tonight?never in my life." [I n Uft^H||^Kl wt jfit *^^B| Beaan to take some flowers out of her hair. "I didn't know anything was wrong with me. mother." "You act queer; I declare you do," asserted Mrs. Barclay. "You generally have a lot to say. Have you and Frank bad a falling out?" Dolly gave her shoulders a sudden shrug of contempt. "No; we got along as well as we ever did." "I thought maybe he was a little mad because you wouldn't dance tonight. but surely he's got enough sense to see that you oughtn't to insult Brother Dlllbeck that way when he's visiting our house and everybody knows what be thinks about dancing." "No; he thought I did right about it," said Dolly. "Then what in the name of common sense is the matter with you, Dolly? You can't pull the wool over my eyes, and you needn't try it." Dolly faced about suddenly. "I reckon you'll sit tnere an mgnt unless I tell you all about it," she said sharply. "Mother, Alan Bishop was there." "You don't say!"' "Yes, and asked me to let him take me to church tomorrow evening." "Oh, he did?" . "Yes; and, as I didn't want father to Insult him, I"? "You told him what your pa said?" "No; I Just ttffd him father^OWn't want me to receive him any more. Heaven knows, that was enough!" "Well, that was the bast thing for you to do." Mrs. Barclay took a deep breath as if she were inhaling a delicious perfume. "It's much better than to have him plunge in here some day and have your father break out like be does in bis rougb way. What-did Alan say?" "He said very little, but be looked It You ought to have seen him. Frank came up just about that time and invited me to have some ice cream, and I bad to leave him. He was as wbJte as a sheet He bad made an engagement with me to sit out a dance, and be didn't come in the room again till that dance was called, and then he didn't even mention it He acted so peculiarly I could see It was nearly killing him, but he wouldn't let me bring up the subject again. I came near doing it but be always steered round it." "He's a sensible young man," declared Mrs. Barclay. "Any one can see that by looking at him. He's not responsible for his father's foolhardy venture, but it certainly leaves him in a bad fix as a marrying man. He's had bad luck, and be must put up with ' ? -? rrkAMA qwa rvlnnftt nf Hie cunsequeuecD. xucic uc ^ieui; v> girls who have no money or prospects who would be glad to have him, but"? "Mother." broke In Dolly as If she had been listening to her own troubled thoughts rather than her mother's words, "he didn't act as If he wanted to see me alone. The other couples who had engagements to talk during that dance were sitting in windows and out of the way corners, but be kept me right where I was and was as ' carefully polite as if we bad just been introduced. I was sorry for him and load at the same time. I could have pulled his ears." "He's sensible, very sensible," said Mrs. Barclay In a tone of warm admiration. "A man like that ought to get along, and I reckon he will do well 6ome day." 1 "But. mother," said Dolly, her rich, round voice rising like a wave ana breaking In her throat, "he may never think about me any more." "Well, that really would be best, dear, under the circumstances." "Best?" Dolly blurted out. "How can you say that, when?when"? "Dolly, you are not really foolish about him. are you?" Mrs. Barclay's face dropped Into deeper seriousness. Dolly looked away and was silent for a moment. Then she faltered: "I don't know, mother. I?I'm afraid if I keep on feeling like I do now I'll never got over it." "Ah, but you'll not keep on feeling like you do now," consoled the older woman. "Of course, right now, just after seeing how hard he took it, you - " - * ? fx*. 1.1 will kind or symparuize wuu mm ?uu want to help liim; but that will all I pass away. I remember when I was 1 about your aire I had a falling out i with Will Despree, a young man my i father didn't like because his grandfa- 1 ther had been an overseer. And, do ] you know, I thought I would actually i kill myself. I refused to eat a bite and i threatened to run away with Will. To s this day I really don't know what I would have done if your grandfather t hadn't scared him away with a shot- t gun. Will kept writing notes to me. < I was afraid to answer them, but my t father got hold of one and went after i him on a fast horse. Will's family heard what was up, and they kept him out In the swamp for a few days, and then they sent him to Texas. The whole Despree family took It up and talked scand'lous about us." "And you soon got over It mother?" asked Dolly almost In a tone of dismay. "Well," said Mrs. Barclay reflectively, "Will acted the fool so terribly. He wasn't out in Texas three months before he sent back a marked paper with an article in it about his engagement to the daughter of a rich man who, we found out afterward, used to keep a livery stable; then I reckon hardly any girl would keep caring for a boy when his folks was telling such lies about her family." Dolly was staring studiously at the speaker. "Mother," she asked, "don't you believe in real love?" Mrs. Barclay laughed as If highly amused. "I believe In a different sort to the puppy love 1 had for that boy. Then after that there was another young man that I thought more of, if anything, than 1 did of Will, but he was as poor as Job's turkey, and my folks was all crazy for me and your pa, who I'd never seen, to get married. I held out against the idea, just like you are doing with Frank, I reckon, but when your pa come with his shiny broadcloth coat and spotted silk vest? no, it was satin, I think, with red spots on it?and every girl in town was crazy to catch him and there was no end of reports about the niggers he owned and bis high connections?well, as I say, it wasn't a week before I was afraid he'd see Joe Tlnsley and hear about me and him. My father was in for the match from the very Jump, and so was your pa's folks. He put up at our house with his nigger servant and didn't want to go about town much. 1 reckon I was pleased to have him pick me out, and so we soon fixed it up. Lordy, he only had to mention Joe Tlnsley to me after we got married to make me do anything he wanted. To this day he throws him up to me, for Joe uever did amount to anything. He tried to borrow money from your pa after you was born. The neighbors had to feed bis children." "But you loved father, didn't you?" Dolly breathed, in some relief over what she thought was coming. "Well, I can't say I did," said Mrs. Barclay. "We had a terrible time get' J A- A1 U VAM ting useu 10 uue auuuier a najra. ivu see, he'd waited a good while and was some older than I was. After awhile, though, we settled down and now I'm awful glad I let my father manage % me. You see, what your pa had and what my father settled on me made us comfortable, and if a couple Is that it's a sight more than the poor ones are." Dolly stood before her mother, close enough to touch her. Her face wore an indescribable expression of dissatisfaction with what she had heard. "Mother, tell me one thing," she said. "Did you ever let either of those boys ?the two that you didn't marry, I mean?kiss you?" Mrs. Barclay stared up at her daughter for an instant, and then her face broke into a broad smile of genuine amusement She lowered her head to her knee and laughed out "Dolly Barclay, you are such a fool!" she said, and then she laughed again almost Immoderately, her face in her lap. "I know what that means," said Dolly, in high disgust "Mother, I don't think you can do me any good. You'd better go to bed." MrB. Barclay rose promptly. "I think I'd better, too," she said. "It makes your pa awful mad for me to sit up this way. I don't want to hear him rail out like he always does when he catches me at it." After her mother had gone Dolly sat down on her bed. "She never was in love," she told herself. "Never, never, never! And it's a pity. She never could have talked that way if she had really loved anybody as much as"? But Dolly did not finish what lay on her tongue. However, when she had drawn the covers up over her the cold tears rose in her eyes and rolled down on her pillow as she thought of Alan Bishop's brave and dignified suffering. "Poor fellow," she said. "Poor, dear \lan!" . :.u TO BE CONTINUED. AN INGENIOUS BURGLAR. How He Opened a Safe Without Tools or Explosives. An extraordinary account Is given of low a safe was opened by a robber who had at his disposal no Instrument if any kind, but operated merely with lis finger nail. The person who accomplished the feat revealed his intention of robbing the iron safe in a hotel :o another young man, who happened to be the cousin of the hotel proprietor. As a matter of course the proposed ?cheme to rob was revealed to the owner of the hotel, and a little before mid-1 light, when it was to be put into execution, a couple of detectives were concealed behind the office counter. A short time afterward 'the robber J entered the office gently, without either ools or explosives wherewith to open :he massive Iron receptacle, the comlination of which it was evident he did lot know. He had, however, resorted :o an ingenious plan of his own. He had pared the nail of his index " ' * linger on the right nana unui cue uiuuu | vessels were exposed. Then by placng the sensitive wound on the combination lock he could distinguish the movements of the tumblers as they fell, [ ""or more than an hour did he work, nid at last there came a sharp click, ind he swung back the doors of the iafe. He was in the act of filing his pock?ts with the valuable papers it confined when a damper was thrown up>n his activity by the sudden grasp of he detectives, under whose escort he ,vas taken to prison.?London Tit-BitsJ W An 3 I A I 19 I IUO. ' < Further Statement of Foroes and Loses j on Each 8ide. ( Some days ago the New Orleans j Picayune printed statistics showing that in the civil war the losses of the Confederates In killed were In propor- ( tlon greater than were those of the Federals. This statement was questioned on the ground that the Federal armies 1 wore irmHc iin In th?? nsrerrpefrLte nf nearly five times the number of men 1 possessed by the Confederates, and that, therefore, the largest army ( should naturally have suffered the j greatest loss In battle. It was con- j tended, on the other hand, that the < smaller army, in order to stand against the greater, was compelled to fight with more desperation and daring, and ] that, therefore, its men were subject to ] greater loss." Moreover, any force fighting at large odds would have to endure the fire of a greater number of missels, and this would expose it to ' greater loss. Unfortunately, many of the Confederate war records were lost or destroyed in the evacuation of and retreat from Richmond, and therefore the Confederate returns are not complete and no accurate account is available. The war department at Washington, which has charge of all the Confederate war records, has recently begun the work of completing, as far as possible, the Confederate records as to numbers and losses of men, and a call has been made which should be j promptly responded to, asking Confed eraie survivors arm Hittie uuuiuriuea possessing muster rolls and other data of the sort, to send them, either as a loan or gift, to the war department at Washington, so that they may be copied and used to supply the lost records. So far as the figures are available today, the Picayune repeats with additions the figures printed by it last Wednesday. The figures in regard to the Union army are taken from the "Statistical Record" by Capt. Frederick Phlsterer, then of the army, published by Charles Scrlbner's Sons, New York, 1883, and declared to be compiled from army orders, registers of regulars and volunteers, reports of the adjutant general of the army, and from those of the provost marshal general of the army, the "Medical History of the Rebellion," and other sources. { As to the union forces in the field, the summary of the men furnished by and credited to the various states by the adjutant general's office Is given ( by states, and It shows. Including Indians and Negroes, a total of 2,772,408 men and money commutation allowed ( by the draft law, to represent 86,728 men. making an aggregate of men rep- ? resented to be 2,859,132. Of Indian troops there were 3,530. and of Negroes there were 186J097, all of whom are Included in the figures of 2,722,408. There were 2,047 regiments of all armies. After citing In detail the figures in the reports of the adjutant general, of the provost marshal general, Capt. Phisterer gives the following as the most complete and reliable statement: Killed in battle 44,238 Died of wounds 49,205 Suicide, homicide and execution 526 Died of disease 186,216 Died in southern prison 24,184 Total 304,369 Of the Negro troops Included in the above, 1,514 were killed in battle, 1,760 died from wounds, 29,212 died from disease, 837 died in prison, and 57 from other causes. The enlistments of foreigners in the ' Federal army are thus given: Germans 176,800 Irish .....1 144,200 British Americans 53,500 English 45,300 All others 47,900 Aggregate 494,900 The deficiency In the Confederate returns precludes any accuracy of statement, has been put at 600,000. It should be remembered that the northern states had a white population of 20,000,000, while the south had a white population of 6,000.000, besides 4,000,000 Negroes. The southern Negroes were slaves and were recruited for the northern army from the districts in the southern states that were overrun by the Invaders, to the number of 186,097. As to foreigners, they were kept out of the south by the blockade of the southern ports by the Federal fleets, but they were attracted to the northern army by the large i e bounty offered, and they Joined in great L numDers. u me six minion ui wim.c t people of the south sent one-tenth of ( their number or 600,000, Into the field, e the 20,000,000 of the northern whites f should at the same rate have sent 2,000,000 soldfers. These, with the 495,- r 900 foreigners, and the 186,097 Ne- f groes, would make an aggregate of t 2,680,997, or about the strength reported above for the total Federal u force. r The Confederate losses, as compiled s from the muster rolls extant and on s file In the war department In Washing- f ton, give the following: a Killed in battle 52,954 c Died from wounds 21,570 Died from disease 59,297 A Total 133,821 f Died in northern prison 26,436 Ji Aggregate 160,257 j It is plain, however, that the muster rolls of the Confederates are ex- t tremely Incomplete, because they give North Carolina 14,552 killed, while they give Alabama only a total of 552, and Virginia 5,328, and Georgia, 5,538, and Mississippi 5,807, when it is wellknown that any of these states furnished as many troops as did North t Carolina, and did as hard fighting. In t the "Medical History of the Civil War," prepared under the direction of the then Surgeon General Barnes, it was | estimated that one man out of every n ' 65 was killed in action, one out of d 9 -VCI jr XV news nvuiiucu iu ?vbivii| ? **? >ne out of every 56 died of wounds. \t this rate the losses of the Confederites should have been 9,230 instead of >2,954, and the wounded should have >een 60,000, while those who died of vounds should have been something >ver 10,000, but, on the contrary, they vere many times greater. The late distinguished Confederate surgeon general, Joseph Jones, estlnated the grand total of deaths In the Confederate army from battle, wounds ind disease, at 200,000. The Federal official reports show that >f prisoners and deaths in prison the following figures are the round num>ers: Federals in southern prisons., z/u.uuu Confederates in northern pris- , ons 220,000 Excess of Federals 60,000 Deaths of Confederate prisoners 26,436 Death of Federal prisoners.... 22,270 Excess of Confederate deaths 2,866 Commenting on these figures, the present efficient and studious Confederate Surgeon General Tebault says: 'According to these figures the percentage of Federals deaths In southern prisons was under nine, while the percentage of Confederate deaths in northern prisons was over 21. These mortuary statistics show how fafthfully and devotedly the Confederate medical corps cared for the prisoners nf the Confederacy in spite of the scant supply of medicines and instruments and works on medicine and mrgery, and the most absolute essentials for satisfactory treatment, these having been made contraband of war." That the Confederates, by reason of their smaller numbers were forced to fight with greater energy and to expose themselves more prodigally to the enemy's fire is shown by the returns of losses in killed and wounded' In battles, thus: Confederate Federal Battles. loss. loss. Chlckamauga 16,801 11,136 Gettysburg 22,644 17,684 Atlanta 7,500 2,622 PYanklln 6,250 1,222 The above were battles In which the Confederates attacked their adversaries in strongly Intrenched positions, jut in every case the losses of the southern troops were out of proportion to their numbers, but they never eceived a blow without inflicting treMOORISH SULTAN'8 LETTER. Abdullah Abd-AI-Aziz 3en4e Greeting to President Roosevelt. The following letter from the sultan jf Morocco has been presented to President Roosevelt: ro the Honored President of the Great American NallBlP , ?. 'May God keep him in .peaceful preservation, - "v"~ 'In the Name of God, the Merciful and Everlasting, 'Life and Strength are the outcome of God's Great Love. "From the Servant of his Great and Vlightv God, the Great and Powerful Vanquisher, the Faithful, the Son of :he Faithful, may God encircle him with :he splendor of His Greatness, keep llm victorious and extend unto him jreatness. "To the great Loving and Exalted in lis position of splendor and Glory, First nongst the Great and Noble, the Presdent of the Great American Nation. The Mirror of its greatness, possessor >f its Highest Position, THEODORE ROOSEVELT. "After saluting and thanking the 5reat and Almighty God, Unique and Jnequalled in greatness and fullness, md honor, and after showering upon rhee and upon Thy Great and Exalted Position, all that which may be due to rh?A in unsnoken words, we may itate that there came before Our Noble Presence, your Wise Messenger, James CV. Langerman, The Chevalier, who :ame unto us, to have us appoint Dne who may represent us la the dedcation and opening of the Exposition vhlch your Great Government, graci>usly purposed and consented to open n the coming Year, 1904, if It pleases he Mighty God. He has tendered unto is, what you have privileged Him to ipeak before us, and of the love which rou bear towards us, and towards Our Esteemed Government, and of your tincere desire to renew the bonds of riendshlp, and to extened mutual comnunlcations. "We welcomed Him with Exultation, ind received Him unto our Gracious Presence, and looked after Him with he Interest due to the explanations, ie bore in the Message He brought into Our NODie aeu irom you, ojiu ilso due to His Excellent and Humane Actions, through which" he Is entitled o handle'the reins of Important af- . airs which Includes His Great Knowldge and deep perception of the afalrs of Our Moorish Government. "And we have appointed Him to repesent Our Noble Self at the Beautiful Exposition In due time If it pleases he Mighty God. "In regard to what you extend unto is, from the signs of love, honor, and eliance, We Ourselves, wish and deire with the hope of extending to trengthen and fasten the ties of riendship, here and there, the same s you wish unto us, and unto Our Jreat Government and Nation. "The Unexcelled Benefits of God, the Jmlghty, may preserve you In the ullness of happiness, and in continual oy. "Signed and Sealed in our Sacred 'resence, this 16th day of Ramaden, orresponding to the 17th of Decem>er, 1902, of the Christian Era. "ABDULLAH ABD-AL-AZIZ, "Sultan of Morocco. "BEN EL-HASSAM, "Sultan's Father. "BEN MOHAMMED, if "Sultan's Grandfather. "And He whose health sprin&a from he Messenger of God, the Lions in heir dens fear him." (Seal of Sultan.) tii' Those microbes in the ice cream lust be having a good time these ays.