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^ ^ ' 1 ISSUED SKMI-WKEKL^ : i. m. grist's sons, Pnbii?her?. } % jfatnilg Uercspaper: Jfor the promotion ojf the political, fociat. ^jricultueal and ffiommet;riat Interests of the feopte. { si^olecIUVkive cEiJ VAN li' ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKYILLEjS. C? FKIJQAY,AUGUST 30,1907. NO. 70. 1 ' " * ' ' "rue ("ATAU/aAC Iverv rtnthnhlA that there are Others DAUGHTER By ETTA. " CHAPTER XXXIX. At Last. A week passed, and Mignon did no leave her chamber, nor had Ltspenarc been admitted to her presence. On< afternoon Nina came down to meet hin in the Berkely drawing-room, full o: some important matter. Her blacl eyes shone vivaciously; there was t glow in her brunette cheek. "I know not what to make of Mignon," she began; "she is utterly listless, with no interest in anything She mopes and mopes, and grows palei and paler every day. The doctor declares that a sea voyage is necessary tc restore her. He wishes her to g< abroad immediately. Paris and Romt will be sure to improve her spirits." He grave an involuntary start but die not speak. "Well, our plans are all arranged,' continued Nina. "The entire family ol Berkely will sail for Europe in the nexl steamer. Reginald is suffering from L..?AAUA?^*|n . nono U'lohfio tn StlldV iiypuviiuiiuua, " 4w.?vo ? .r finance abroad; mainma is sighingfol new French toilets, and I am going tc Greece to gather material for an epic Now, are you quite willing that we should take Mignon with us?" She looked at him sharply. Did he change countenance? She was nol quite sure. "If it is necessary for Mignon to gc to Europe, certainly I am willing." he replied, in a steady voice. "Do your plans meet with her approval?" "Yes. she is like a child?eager tc start at once." "Then, like a child, she must be indulged." answered Lispenard, quietly. "I will make special provision for her comfort and pleasure abroad, and send my most trusted servant from the Dale to attend her." A dark envious look crept into the poetess's fine, expressive eyes. "Will you not come with us, too, Lispenard?" "I? Great Heaven! No! that would indeed, ruin Mignon's enjoyment! Promise me. Nina, that, if I trust her in your hands you will guard her faithfully; promise that, If she is ill, or unhappy, or homesick, you will let me know without delay." "I promise," replied Nina, ironically. "For your sake I will sit up nights to watch her, Lispenard. She will not be homesick or unhappy?no rich woman ov'ikv* lc In "PnHvi T ilnro ?nv ?ihp will squander your money and flirt with other men, and never give you a thought, and if she does," bitterly, "it will serve you quite right, for why did you not marry a girl who could appreciate you?" He paid no heed to this burst of feminine pique. "How long will you remain abroad?" he asked. "Heaven only kn iws! For years and years, perhaps! I hope you may be somewhat cured of your stupendous folly by the time we return. Oh, Lispenard, have you been wise? Have you done well?" "It is too late to ask or answer such questions," he replied, sternly. "1 do not think of myself now, but oidy of her." "That Is so evident it need not be told," she sighed. "I fear?I greatly fear you have made yourself and Mlgnon miserable for ever!" Lispenard departed from the Berkely mansion and went straight to Mignon's physician; heard him confirm the statement made by Nina regarding the benefit that Mignon was likely to derive from a European tour, then he started for the Dale, called the old servant whom he had chosen to attend his wife, gave her minute instruction in her future duties, and dispatched hei to the Berkely town house. Next ht arranged that Mignon, wherever she went, should have unlimited means at her disposal, and he wrote scores ol letters to foreign friends, bespeaking their care and attention for the young trav< ler at different stages of her wanderings. And after that there was nothing left for him to do but to blc her a final farewell. It was a cheerless evening in tht late winter, with rain falling drearily Signs of an exodus were everywhen visible in the Berkely mansion. Tin steamer would sail on the morrow The brac-a-brac had been put away and the trunks packed; the furnitun was in covers, and the majority of th< servants had been dismissed. Mignot descended the stair and met him ir Nina's boudoir, which happened to b< warmed and lighted. She had donnet deepest black again, a color that always made her look like marble. Tht lovely hand which she held out to hlu was chilly and nerveless. "Why have you not allowed me tt see you before?" he burst out, almos angrily. She looked faintly surprised. "Did you wish to see me? I am sun I never knew it." "Did 1 wish to see you?" he echoed biting his lip. "Most certainly! have suffered untold tortures in tht last few days. How ill and weary yot look! My poor child, you must no brood longer over your troubles?yot must not! Do you want to kill your self? Are you tired already of life?" She leaned her two hands on tin marble mantel. The black sleeve slipped back from the ivory wrists Her lovely head, rippling over witl yellow hair, drooped forward like i flower. "No," she answered, with a sob "hut I will tell you what torments m most of all. It is the thought or Ks ther. my poor sister, there at his deatl ?eye-witness to it. 1 have ponderei the matter night and day. and I fe? assured that she had gone to the wes to find a home with him, for she wa homeless here. She knew no more con cerning his real life than I did. Hot did she bear the truth when it was re vealed to her by the vigilants? Dii she find a refuge in that strange plact or has she perished of despair and sor row, perhaps want? Such question VV. PIERCE as these are constantly rising in nv mind." Lispenard looked troubled. ' "Why have I not thought of then ' also? Tomorrow I will send som trustworthy person to Colorado. W will know at once the fate of your sis ter, and you shall provide for her fu ture yourself." Her fair face lighted wonderfully. "How kind?how good you are! would be content, I think, if I couh have news of Esther." "You shall have it if it Is obtaina ble. Tomorrow at this hour you wil be upon the sea; but comfort yoursel with the thought that proper steps wil have been taken by that time to dis cover Esther, and bring her back t< the east. Are you glad to go with thes< ' Berkelys?" "Yes." He looked at her with a fierce paii rending his heart. That Idiot Regi nald would dance attendance upon hei 1 from land to land. She had once rejected his love; but with such goldet opportunities as now lay before him ' who could tell the mischief that h< now might do? ! "I am here to bid you a final good' by," said Llspenard, in a slightly sha ! ken voice. "At this last hour do yoi ' think of anything more that I can dc for you?" "No," she replied. "You have prom' | Ised, if possible, to send me tidings o Esther, and that is enough." "You will write to me sometimes, wil ' you not?" "Yes, if you wish it." "And when you have grown wearj [ of the Old World and of travel, yoi will come back?" "Yes," she said again. He held out his hand. She put hei soft, cool palm upon it. ' "Cannot you come to the steamer tomorrow to see us off?" she said. The color flew into his face and oui again. "No; in God's name do not ask me! There is a limit to all human endurance. My dear child, good-by!" "Good-by!" answered Mignon. There was no other word. He movec toward the door, looking back at hei with a pale, strange face. She die not lift her head. A moment more anc he was gone, and Mignon stood alont by the fire of Nina Berkely's boudoir. Abel Lispenard went by train thai night to his tower in the Dale. His servants noticed nothing unusual ir his appearance. The dog Cossack, however. crept close to the side of hl.? master, and lifted wistful eyes to hi? face as though his canine instincts de, tected something wrong. To be sure the household heard the wailing of the grand piano far into the small hours of morning, but that was nothing uncommon. The day dawned wild and stormy It was bad weather for ocean travelers Llspenard wandered aimlessly aboui his great house. He spent a long time in the closed rooms of his dead sister His worn, haggard look began to disturb his devoted servants. He dinec \ with only Cossack for company, anc perhaps it was the most cheerless mea that had ever been served at the tower. The night came on in clouds anc beating winter rain. The wind wailed mournfully across his desolate lawns and gardens. He sat down be ' fore the log fire with his violin, anc drew the bow across its sympathetic strings. ' Wild, heartrending music broke fron ' the instrument. By this time she wai on the sea. Would she make a gooc 1 sailor? Would night and tempest 01 1 the great deep frighten her? He ha< given her into the hands of thos< ' Berkelys for an indefinite period f Would they, indeed, take good care o her? She would change much befori ^ he saw her again. She was little mon > than a child in years, and she wouli grow, not toward him, but further am " ever further away from him; that wa ' Inevitable. How many new expert ' ? -- l -1 I.A KamaI mo n\- nav ences iviiuiu ut- ncm. n?>?. faces she would see! Ah, had he real ? ly been wise in letting her go? Hi dashed down his violin and started u] ? in his chair, but alas! it was too lat< i to recall her now?she had passed be yond his reach. Cossack seemed to divine his mas ter's mood, and whined restlessly at hi ' knee. The rain beat fiercer than evei 1 the wind was increasing in violence 1 Suddenly Lispenard heard the closini ' of a door close at hand. Some of th servants were passing through th hall. He fell back in his chair again with his chin bowed on his mass I v 1 breast, and the violin, in which he fo once could find no comfort, flung dowi at his side. "How can I complain that I hav lost her?" lie said to himself, bitterlj ^ "since I never had her to lose." He thought again of Reginald Berke ly sighing over her. In those far land r she would altogether forget her de s formed, her unloved husband. No mat j ter. if at the same time she also for t got her sorrows?the shadow of he j father's sins, which had fallen so dark ly on the innocent young life. Saeri lice, renunciation?those words, i ? their full meaning, were well known t s Abel Idspenard. If he could purchas . her happiness at the cost of his owr ^ surely he would be content. x The portiere was pushed suddenl aside. He did not see it. A light ste ; crossed ilie carpel. uixsuck s?ic p ji>yful hark. Then he started an . looked up. h Great Heaven! could he believe hi d own eyes? It was Mignon hersel >1 standing there on his hearth?Mignot t breathless, eager-eyed, her long wrap s shining with rain, and her yellow hai - clinging in wet, babyish rings abou v her lovely broivs. Once before she ha - come to him, in that very room, b d night and alone: now she was ther \ again, not with terror in her face, bii - a timid, sweet appeal, that amaze s him exceedingly. ["Ml^non!" he cried, wildly: "Mignon, can it be you?" She sank on her knees at his side. "Yes," she sobbed, "I went with them on board the steamer, but at the last moment I could not go! They coaxed, f they scolded, they pleaded, they laughed at me; but in vain?I could not! My heart seemed breaking. I left them j ?I left the steamer and turned my face q toward home. Oh, take me In as you t did on that other night. Let me stay a with you?with you! You will break j, my heart if you again send me away!" c He lifted her face and searched It j| I with a fierce, devouring gaze. The a burning color came and went In her|t hpr hrown eves met his through |?, a mist of tears. t, 11 "Mlgnon, what do you mean? Great e God! there Is but one thing that you v e can mean! You have come back to v - me of your own will; you have come w - back because your heart led you! Oh, s my darling, my darling, have I won e you at last?" n I ' She was in his arms, his lips to hers, 3 her heart throbbing against his heart, tl and he knew, beyond any future doubt, ^ - that she was all his own?won not by I the usual mode of wooers; but won, j. f and for all time! And what that su- s 1 preme moment of conscious possession, |t - of despair turned to wildest rapture, of ^ 5 darkness flooded with light, of life r ? rounded to its full completeness, _ meant to Abel Lispenard, no words t] can ever tell! _ (To Be Continued). ti d r . . .. h - AFRICAN CHURCH ON WHEELS. ? Missionaries Following the Cape to rr Cairo Road. J< The great distances between the ^ - South African townships, in which i whites and blacks live side by side, has ^ ) suggested a novel and practical mission which takes the form of railway car- ^ . rlages, capable of being hitched at a j ( moment's notice to passenger or freight trains between Cape Town and the 1 Zambesi. Between the townships English settlers are scattered in this way. Every r five miles or so along the line there , may be a cottage occupied by a white plate layer and his family, with close by a half dozen native huts filled to r overflowing. Near the stations orsldings, every twenty miles, two or three . white families are found, while rail- ^ way camps or villages stand from sev- ^ t er.ty to a hundred miles apart. Here ^ the drivers, guards and other emI ployees have their homes. Then there are any number of lonely & farms, stores, Inns and police camps. Q All of these are utterly beyond the or- ' j dinary ministrations of the church, and h P the Cape to Cairo railway Is always ^ I opening up new centres. In spite of I free passage granted by the Cape gov- p } ernment railways to spiritual pioneers it was found hopeless to deal with the I mixed population of English, Dutch and T , natives scattered along 2,000 miles of , line. For three years the Rev. Douglas El- ^ 5 llson, who with the Rev. P. B. Simeon j ? was the first in his vast field, traversed . his parish once every three months | by goods train, by railway trolley or on ; foot. He visited the lonely gangers in , the stations, the railway camps and P . villages baptizing and teaching children, celebrating weddings, burying the dead and holding services in waiting rooms or even freight sheds. At last the Cape government gave Mr. Ellison a coach, and later on the ^ Bishop of Grahamstown lent a small cottage to serve as a mission house. Just after the war Mr. Ellison was insl vited by the bishops of Pretoria and Mashonaland to extend operations into their diocese, and now there is a second railway coach whirling through the Transvaal and a third in Rhodesia. These "Missions on Wheels" are sen*> ed by nine English pastors, a deacon, . three or four laymen, five native cate- '' j chists and two women. : The railway coaches, without which this work would be impossible, form ! small peripatetic homes on wheels, and ' 9 one of them?"No. 404"?is known j throughout nearly one-half of the Dark i Continent. It contains a "state draw1 ing room" and bed room In one, an eng trance hall, a sitting room and a bedroom for the native catechists, a kltch- s f en. bathroom and a store room. This 1 e sounds very opulent, indeed, until one t( ? realizes that all these apartments are 3 contained within a length of twenty n 3 feet! No wonder Mr. Batty, working a s in Natal, says he found it difficult to '' . get a Sunday-school of fourteen chll- n v dren into the "state drawing room" g . and that he was almost tempted to put '' e the little ones in the luggage racks, p A small Zulu boy travels with each " e coach and unites in his one small per. son the offices of cook, housemaid, but- ' ler and valet. These homes on wheels sound very interesting, yet travelling s over immense distances day and night v . is inexpressibly wearisome, so hot and ii , cramped are the coaches. t| ? It is hoped to extend the work pro- h p portionately with the new railway con- o e struction, of which no less than 2,000 e t miles is projected for the next few C p years. This will take these church A r homes on wheels away up into the e j, Oreat I^akes of central Africa, and in ii due time they will doubtless reach o Khartum Itself. Each coach has its p own crew, who fare forth on the old c gospel principle, two by two, on a beat c ?<l a inousaiui nines. n They move quietly along, establish- t; ing friendly relations with the railway- s side populations, and watching not n only new railway developments, but F also opportunities of organizing more I permanent and settled ministrations, v The coaches are loaded with literature of various kinds, old magazines and | ^ weekly papers being much appreciated f by the. isolated people, and also In the u camps of the South African constab- y ' ulary, which are often near the rail- ti way. s y < >ne can well imagine how warmly e P "Old 404" must be welcomed, as she 1 a trundles up to some remote siding: and g it- this welcome Is often enough the 1 nucleus of a church. The first meeting t s may be under the dazzling skies of At- 1 If riea. Then comes some old goods shed, s i. decently garnished and decorated with c ? flowers. The next stage is an humble f Ir enough little chapel, and later on coines t it a regular church?which in one classic d instance was built of nothing more | y substantial than brown felt. c e Indeed at Kilplaat at this moment g it may be seen quite a handsome little J d church constructed entirely of wire s wove felt and a few laths. . ? pisfrllaHrous ^radittfl. THE LAND OF THE MOORS. "ierce People Who Have Always Maintained Their Own. Half way down the Atlantic coast of doorish empire, and about opposite Jliarleston, rises out of the sea the litle port of Casablanca, which Is known .s the "White House" port in every mguage that is spoken along the oast. It Is white and beautiful, If you le in the offing of a clear night, like 11 the rest of Morocco, and, indeed, he Mohammedan world. Casablanca i best seen by the pale moonlight, and o windward. Near by, Salee, at the very name of fhlch our New England ancestors who ,'ent down to the sea in ships were font to shudder, and with good reaon, is now closed by a sand bar which ven the daring Barbary corsairs would ot dare to cross in their light-drawing jluccas, but the Moor of the bad counry is still a pirate, though the times ave driven him inland from the seaa ntll recently he preyed upon the passlg caravans as a century ago he wooped down with his hawklike gal?ys upon our becalmed sailing ships, 'he Kabyle Norsemen who are today ushing up to the French batteries and Ifle pits are doing it not only because hey have a hatred of the Christian hich their church sanctifies to a virile, but because they are starving to oath and want to get at the men who ave taken the bread out of their louths. Ten years ago these dashing horselen, whose gorgeous costumes and bejweled weapons made them most cautlful, if somewhat barbarous ob>cts to behold, were the lords of the lalns and marshes which lie between ie Western Soudan and the port iwns of Southwest Morocco. They ere the masters of transportation In lis part of the world, and had to be eckoned with if you cared to take caravan flight. In ostrich feathers, old dust, slaves or salt, they would rotect or pillage you, whichever was ie most profitable. n?ci-li. o:11 n..? rruiuauio nrmys TV ipvu WM*. Sid Boubkehr, who was and is the lost prominent man in this part of le world, used to rebate and cut rates ist like all the other masters of transortation, and just like you and me. [e would give a caravan protection at is price, or he would pillage it to seure the just tolls which were his, as he ever doubted, by the divine right of light. Boubkehr and his colleagues nd rivals got all they could get out f the job without disturbing business r destroying values, and would still e doing a profitable and philanthropic usiness were it not for the recent pening of the western Soudan by the rench, who have diverted to their wn interest and profit all the former iravan trade from Morocco down (o imbuctoo and the Niger. So without ishing to be unduly alarmed about the ituations of the besieged garrisons in logador and Casablanca, it Is clear mt their assailants are not only faatics, but hungry fanatics, who have een quietly put out of a most profltble and gentlemanly business, which ermitted them the extravagance of ften paying one hundred good dollars >r a carbine, which in New York ould be dear ut twelve. The dashing bordermen were bound ) the imperial government by the enderest of ties. They were wholly nmersed In their profitable business peratlons and In annexing to their wn households the most beautiful laves culled from the passing caraans. When the tax gatherers ventur[1 into their domain they buried them live, but when the late Sultan Mulai lassan, who was a fighter, appeared i their neighborhood, being conservave, clear-headed business men, they aid him large sums to go away and ot restrain trade. Typical of this same Sultan Muiai [assan's attitude toward what Is callii progress and improvement in the estem world is an anecdote, the aulenticity of which I feel I can vouch ir. There were and still are some angerous rocks in thp harbor of Raat, and the owners of the coasting teamshlps engaged in the Moroccan rade were anxious for obvious reasons i have them removed. Having failed i interest the local governor in the latter the steamship men got together nd sent an envoy to Fez, who reuested that the companies concerned light be allowed to remove these daners to commerce at their own exense. "Certainly not," was the sultan's lmledlate answer; "the rocks were put lieir by God for some good purpose, ot no man dare to remove them." Young Sultan Raises a Storm. What the sultan doubtless thought as that foreign men-of-war could get ito the Atlantic ports of his empire uite easily enough, and at all events f did not wish to appear in the eyes f his sullen people as facilitating the xits and the entrances of the hated 'hristians. The policy of his little son, >bdul-Azlz, has been much more liblal, and from the western viewpoint tiore enlightened, and Is, sad to relate, ne of the contributing causes to the resent alarming situation. He reently consented to the request of the insular corps and the shippers that arbor improvements should be underaken in Casablanca. Whereupon the uspicious Kabyles of the adjacent maintains rushed down to the "White louse" city and killed twelve or fifteen Europeans, mostly Spaniards, who ere engaged upon the work. In making concession to the Euro>ean spirit of progress and enterprise, or which his people are not ready, the inlucky and probably most incapable oung sultan has raised a storm which nay cost him his throne. Today, if he tands with the people, he is threatend with a foreign expedition, while If le stands by the treaty he runs even ;reater and nearer danger at the luuua in uiu vui iwun |u cicuuv.1 ^ hrone, by whose activity the sultan's Ife has been made very miserable ever ince, or almost ever since, by a harem onspiracy and the weakness of his ather, the young prince was called tc he difficult post of ruling the Moors. Abdul-Aziz, an amateur photogra)her. an amateur wheelman, rather a lilettante ruler, is the son of a Geor,'ian slave, who was brought back tc <>z by Sid Ohornet, a prominent Moor is a pleasant souvenir of a pious pllrrimage which he had made to Mecca and to Constantinople. The slave wa a woman of rare beauty, and this be came noised about in Fez, where, how ever, beautiful women are not rar< One day the sultan frowned upon hin and Sid Ghornet took the hint. H very cleverly made his master a pres - ent of the earthly hour! rather than ru , the risk of being dispatched to Join th colder company of the celestial ladle who people the Mohammedan paradis ?a danger to which he would un t doubtedly have been exposed had h clung to his prize. J She was christened Ayeesha, an queened it over the harem unto the da of the sultan's death. Under the spe of her Influence Mulal Hassan commit ted the folly of practically disinherit Ing his many sons by his legitimat wives or shereefas, and on his death bed appointed the weak and rathe flabby boy to be his successor. SI Ghornet, the importer of the cleve Georgian slave, and Caid Harry Mac Lean, a Scotch drlllmaster in the She reeflan army, were prominent In carry Ing out their dead master's will, an< they have remained in power eve since. Disaffection Is Widespread. Abdul Aziz's accession to the thron was a most unpopular one, and thi probably accounts for the fact tha early in his reign he surrounded him self with foreigners who, with som exceptions, were not generally men o a high type?rope walkers, photogra phers, balloon 1st.s and slelght-of-ham men were the representatives of west em civilization who for a long tim appealed most powerfully to the youni sultan's appreciation of culture. Ii view of the rising tide of dlsconten and the disaffection even of the peopl of the capital, and the growing strengtl of the various revolutions in progress In the last year the sultan has dismiss ed his staff of foreign adventurers am goes to the mosque as regularly as hi father did?but probably the harm ha been done. In Morocco, as well as ii other countries, a reputation for ortho doxy is hard to retrieve. Within the last week one brother o the unlucky sultan, Mulal Hafld b; name, of whose character and leaning upon the questions of the day little I known, has been formally proclaimed sultan in the great mosque at Moroce City. Another brother, Hassan. It I said has been exercising rights of sov elgnty In the Riff Highlands, west o Yetnan and on the Mediterraneai coast for two years past. In the Su country another brother, who bears thi name of Morocco's greatest sultan, Mu lal Ismail. Is threatening rebellion witl a force of fanatical horsemen estimated at 35,000 at his back, while In the west ern provinces still slumber the neve radically suppressed rebellions of th Rogue and Bou Hamara, the benevo lAt "Father of the Asses," who, witl his claim to divine descent and reve latlon and his wonderous gift of elo ' quence exercises a remarkable Influ ence upon the mule drivers and all th other nomadic folk of the empire. Such In outline Is the situation b; which France and Spain find them selves confronted because of the rec ognltlon of their special interests ii the disturbed country, and the pollc mandate which they received at th conference of the powers at Algeclrat In the light of recent events I would seem not at all unlikely tha their diplomatic victory at the confer "'111 ondoii Vranro and to Snail the loss of many thousands of men am many millions of francs, which nelthe can afford to throw away. The talk o an expedition to Fez. a flying columi of 10,000 men. in which the boulevar sheets indulge, is the sheerest nonsens or the wildest madness. It would re quire 150,000 men, all picked troups, t capture Fez, and it would require man: thousand more, and require them in definitely, to hold the holy city am maintain something approaching lav and order in the surrounding countrj Before embarking upon such a ventur It would be well for the French t calmly study the situation, to recal the enormous cost of their war wit Ab-del-Kodlr, whose best troops wer Moors, and to cast a critical eye upo: the ruins and relics of previous forelg occupations which abound in the lan of the Moor. Terrible Fate of Portuguese Army. Portugal was for several hundre years In possession of nearly all th Moorish ports on the Atlantic coas including Casablanca; indeed, the sec ond title of the ruler of Portugal toda Is "King of the Algarves," which refer to the royal pretensions to Moorls sovereignty, all the substantial basi to which has long since dlsappearet together with the East Indian depend encies. It was in 1578 that Dom Sebastiar the chivalrous hero of Portuguese son and story, equipped an army for th purpose of overrrunning the whol countrj'. A Duke of Leinster and man other gentlemanly adventurers jolne Dom Sebastian's standard and begu the journey to the capital, which s many conquerors have undertaken, oil In which no single one has succeedet at least not since the day when th green banners of the Prophet of Islat were first flung to the breezes from th battlements of Fez. Dom Sebastian and his army of 20, 000 men, together with the uncounte adventurers who had come togethe from all over Christendom to follow s gallant and so generous a prince, nu their fate in the valley by Alkesa which is watered bj^a shallow rivt generally identified by historians an geographers as the Sixus of PUn; i There 20.000 men were cut to pieces b the Moorish cavalry, and those wh died here by the sword were the forte nate members of the army. Accord i ing to some accounts, Dom Sebastia and the more notable of his follower i wounded or captives, were taken 1 > McKinely, where, after they had gnu ed the triumph of the terrible Sulta ' Abd-el-Melet, their conqueror, th i greater number of them were burie ( alive in the city walls. In these sarr ( walls are visible today many hundre wKlph nn thl? sion, and at other times of fanatics i fury, Christians were immured whl I living:, as a punishment for refusing: I i recite the fatikn and so become rent gades to their creed. Portugal Gives Port to England, i After this disaster Portugal gradua ly withdrew from Morocco, and In 16( ? what remained of her conquests wei ceded to England as part of the dowi of Infanta Henrietta, who became tl i wife of Charles II. After twenty yeai is of constant warrare, narassea aay ana (- night by a tireless and truculent ene my, the keepers of John Bull's treas- ^ b. ury counted up the cost, and shortly i, after the figures were known Tangier e was abandoned, and so the second ali tempt of the conquest of Morocco fail- e n ed. 1 e In 1859 the Spaniards, under O'Don- ? 8 nell, invaded Morocco, bent upon ob- a le taining satisfaction for undoubted In Juries at the hands of lawless Moors, a e and perhaps with thoughts of perma- n nent conquest if all went well. From a d 40,000 to 60,000 men were engaged for n y two years, with heavy casualties and *II even greater losses from sickness. At I1' - the end of the second campaign the!*1 - Sancho Panza in Castliian politics got " e the upper hand of the Don Quixote a - and proclaimed honor satisfied. r In 1893 the Moors attacked the Span- a d ish possession of Melllla, and the w r Madrid government, if hungry for ad- 8 - venture, had every opportunity, and w - even Justification, for a punitive expe dition, but very wisely did not avail A d Itself of the opportunity. It has alr ways seemed to me that, thanks to the " travels of the late Padre Lerchundl and others of his thorough and dill- l' e gent school, the Spaniards understand 11 s conditions in Morocco better than men ? t of other nationalities. They showed it l' . at Melilla ten years ago, and I rather n e think the commanding officer of the a ,f Spanish contingent at Casablanca is 11 . showing it today when he refuses to Cl j expose his men outside the city to the 0 . furious driving charge of the Moorish P e irregular cavalry.?Stephen Bousal. , ? o ANCIENTS AND ANIMALS. w t fi e Fantastic Natural History of the l' h Greeks and Romans. Is '. The knowledge of animals and their t| - habits which existed among the an- t| 3 clent Greeks and Romans was most tj s fantastic. ^ s Among other snakes described in n the ancient natural histories, for ex ample, was the basilisk, which Pliny called the "king of serpents." Accordf Ing to the description, It was six feet V long, wore a white crest on its head h s and had a skin spotted with white. g s Such was the abundance of its venom, ^ 3 according to these reports, that it o made the body shine all over. The air ^ s was poisoned wnere mis vu? ie|?uc - passed, and great plants were enven- ^ f omed with its subtle and luminous ^ n fluid, while the birds In turn fell beC1 s fore the odor exhaled by the trees, e But this monster was an easy prey to - the weasel. The dragon was the largti est of serpents and inhabited especlala ly Ethiopia and Egypt. When he flew - out of his cavern he furrowed the air w r with such violence that it gleamed ? e with fire. His mouth was small, and n - It was not the wounds which It Inflicth ed which made him so formidable, but ? - the strangling power of his tall, which 8 - was capable of destroying even ele- ei - phants. n e It is Interesting to notice that the 91 mythical dragon was already evolving y toward the boa constrictor. The real 11 - siren lived in Arabia and "was a sort n - of white serpent which ran so marvel[i ously that most men say it flew." e Most of the facts which are record- '* e ed concerning birds are more accurate, c i. for the sport of falconry only made " t men observers of their habits. Still 11 t there are a few strange myths con- ^ . cernlng the eagle. He was said to ? n seize his young In his talons and to 31 J make them fix their eyes on the burn- ^ r ing rays of the sun. Those alone that w ,f could gaze without flinching were kept ,s and nourished as worthy of life. "This 3 is not cruelty," says the simple writer, a e "but judgment," The eagle had the . power of renewing youth. Mounting a 0 higher and higher till his plumes were y burned by the sun, he fell Into a foun. tain, where he bathed three times and b j was thoroughly rejuvenated. r v The habits of the ostrich, an old a r book said, were regulated by a star e named Virgil. When the star began " Q to rise the astute bird laid its eggs, ? U covered them with sand and left their u h hatching to the sun. Another re- c 1 Ul? * U J tt'OD tKo InMllPnPP r 0 marnuuic nuns ? <i.-> iu<. .. n which the chanticleer exercised over c n the king of beasts. His shrill crow s j put him In full flight?even Pliny says o so?but to do this his plumage had n to be pure white. v It would not be doing justice to the n c' middle ages if the account of the unl- a e corn was withheld. It was the size of a a horse, though its legs were shorter, n " and Its hide had generally a tanned b y color. There were three kinds. The o 8 magnificent white unicorn had a pur- t h pie head and blue eyes. The horn n 8 was a cubit in length, white In the d lower part, ebony in the middle and rI * red at the end. It had the head of a b stag and the tall of a boar. The eglls- v b serlon was like a gigantic deer and had s S a very sharp horn. The monoceros e was like an ox. The ordinary unicorn n e of the middle ages had a horn three s y feet in length and so sharp that noth- v 11 Ing could resist It. When he prepared o n to fight the elephant, the animal he s ? hated most of all, he sharpened his b it horn against a stone and when the day f I. of battle came dealt the animal a fa- C ? tal blow in the paunch. This noble t n animal fell an easy prey to the fascl- u e nations of innocence and virtue. In t India, especially among the dwellers a i- of the Ganges, when It was desired to y d tame a unicorn, a young and virtuous i r girl was chosen and led to his cave. 0 The animal at once appeared and did c >t homage to the damsel and was easily s r, caught and tamed by the engaging fi 'r wiles of the maiden. I d J y- ?3 In some countries the rabbit pro- f y duces seven families in the course of t 10 a year. I '* Jack killed his giants in Cornwall 1 in the days of King Arthur, and Tom S n Thumb flourished at about the same s s- time, while at much later date the e 0 Babes were left by their Wicked Uncle to die in a wood in Norfolk?dls- ? n tlnctively in Northwest Norfolk?says 1 16 the London Chronicle. Northwest r d Norfolk also contains "Little Red Rid- f ie Ing Hood's Wood.' Twenty years ago t d it was a lovely haunt for the nature i L" lover. In the heart of the wood was t *1 a lake, in the middle of the lake an is- j ,e land and on the island a tiny, unln- i habited cottage. Flowers were every- ' ?* /here in profusion, especially spring | flowers?wild in the wood, cultivated In | . * ivhlnh U-QU IfPIlt In ' lilt* uuuagc gaiucii, ninvii .. r - ? . I- order by the owner's bailiff. It would i 50 have been unkind to tell the villagers, | re who firmly believed that the episode ( y in the life of Little Red Riding Hood j je actually occurred, that Germany I rs elaimpd to have sent us the story. i Mmvuu l n b vnmiiHn w. Vho and What They Are and How They Live. On an old rocky hill In the northastern section of York county live he remnant of the once powerful tribe ' Catawba Indians. The reservation s It Is officially known, fronts on Caawba river, and here In this space of little over 600 acres theee Indians ow make their home. Once roaming t will all over the section of country ow comprising the counties of York, .ancaster, Chester, Fairfield and Union oAn/iltlnn on/1 hohltQ tlon of hese Indians is only another instance f the result wherever the white man nd the Indian have come in contact t Is a question of survival of the Attest nd that the Catawbas have given ray before the white man Is no dlsrace or stigma to that tribe, for the rhites are masters and rule wherever ney go, whether It be America, Europe .sia, Africa or the isles of the sea. He i the governing power and all aliens tust come under his dominion. The Catawbas live now much like tielr fathers lived in days past. It is rue that they have adopted the dress f civilization, but the conditions about heir reservation reminds one very tuch of the home life of the Indians g described in history. Living In lit!e huts, working a few acres of corn, otton and possibly a few other crops, ne almost imagines that he has steped Into America along with Raleigh, ohn Smith or any of the heroes of Id. The work Is done mostly by the 'omen, the men spending their time in shing, hunting or loafing. Here and lere you will see a cabin with a man t work in the fields and where that i the case you can easily see signs of le thrift and energy in the way that le buildings and crops appear. But le general rule Is that the work is one for the greater part by the wornn. Where a man cuts down the trees nd builds a cabin that is his so long s he lives there. No one will encroach n his right and the nation recognizes im as the owner of that particular pot. The Indians have a system hereby one party can sell his house > another and usually money Is the tedium of exchange. Of course, this oes not give the purchaser title to the ind as recognized by the laws of outh Carolina, but the purely local i ~ nnAtrall omAnflr fho I ri - U911/UI9 mat picfaii a>iiwu0 ... lans allow this and recognize the purhaser as the owner. The patches that re worked In connection with the ome are also the property of the one 'ho has the house. The rocky section f country here does not allow any big ituras and no wonder the Indians do ot pay much attention to farming. If ne passes through and looks at the tnd he will easily recognize the poorst land In York county and for that latter in the northern part of the late. The reservation Is well watered. Be1 g so close to the river there are umerous branches and steep hills. It as the appearance of foothills closer j the mountains. You will find a cab1 on one hill, then a branch and after limbing another hill you will possibly nd several residences In a group. One ilng that will strike the visitor Is the ense undergrowth that is found ail ver the Nation. One neighbor cannot ee another unless their houses are in ollerlng distance, the whole tract, '1th the exception of the little patches, i covered with a thick undergrowth fiat render objects invisible until they re close at hand. The cattle run at irge and It is a matter of cornering nd catching them if one is bought and he buyer wants it right at once. Entering further Into the reservation y what Is known as the Indian Ferry oad, there being a ferry on the river t the Nation, the first thing that atracts the attention of the visitor Is a ttle cabin sitting a little to the right f the road and surrounded by dense ndergrowth. On coming closer the a bin Is found to be a dwelling place on/1 hla fn milV It is 0 'I an iiiuiau uiiu ...? . o-mmon custom to see the family all Itting around under the trees in chairs r on benches, the children playing', the nen whittling away at a stick ot working with a gun, and the women riaking pottery. The Indian women re skilled with the use of their hands nd can make pottery that brings a ice little price. They make pipes, owls, and all kinds of such articles ut of clay. They first roll the clay In0 the shape of the desired vessel, reminding one very much of kneading ough for biscuits, and then burn it, 'his is a hardening process and has tc ie done very carefully or else the clay I'lll crumble and the design will b? polled. Continuing on this same road and int far from the first cabin, stands the chool house as the next object thai 1 in attract the attention of the vlsltr. The school house is a one room tructure, with a bell tower, and If milt like the school houses usually ound in the rural districts of Soutli 'arolina. Here the little Indians an aught for a few months every year isually by a white teacher and paid by he state of South Carolina, $200 being ppropriated for this purpose every ear and placed in the hands of th< ndian commissioner. Passing the school house the vlsltoi omes to the church that Is about thf ame size and fashion of the schoo louse. Here the Indians hold their reigious exercises after the fashion of th< dormons, the majority of them proessing that faith. -There are among he Indians forty-five Mormons, sever 'resbyterians and one Methodist. Th< dormons hold their meetings every Sunday and at stated times every yeai iome Mormon elders will visit the res rvatlon and hold a meeting. The burying ground of the Indians It mother very Interesting spot. It 1: ocated on the top of a thill 'that Is sur <ounded on all sides by water. It Is 6< 'eet wide by 100 feet 'long, and Is no mclosed. The cemetery :has been ii jse only about sixty years. Most o he graves are marked with soap stoni ilabs on which are carved the name >f the person, date of birth and deatii Time has erased the majority of thea nscrlptions and it Is now almost lm possible to read any of them. Ther ire four other burying grounds tha the Indians used In days gone by, tw< n Lancaster county and two In Yorl trounty. Not far from the reservatloi i person ploughing a few years ag round one of these old burying ground ill trace of which had been lost. It I that have been forgotten years ago. The Indians have a system of government on the reservation fashioned on democratic principles. There Is a head chief, a second chief, and two 1 other members of the council. These 1 are elected at stated Intervals by the Indians. The duties of these local officers are merely theoretical, and hence the honor is almost an empty one. The ' real head man of the Indians is the commissioner appointed by the governor. He handles the money that Is appropriated each year by the legislature for the support of the Indians and divides it among them. The present commissioner is Mr. J. Dixon Lesslie, a leading young man of Lesslie, S. C., and now postmaster of that place. He was first appointed by Governor Heyward, and he administered the affairs of the office so satisfactorily to all concerned that he was reappointed by Governor Ansel. He is very popular amongst the Indians, and they were very much elated when Governor Ansel again placed their afTairs In his hands. The Indians are given an annual appropriation by the state, this money being In the hands of a commissioner appointed by the governor. The money is divided by giving each one the same amount. This makes a larger family get more than a smaller one and so the father of a larger family is richer than one of the smaller family. The state Is bound to support the Indians according to a treaty made between them and the officials of the state about the year 1840. At that time the Indian reservation contained forty-five square miles, and they are now pressing the state for a final settlement That Is, they want the state to pay them so much and then no more appropriation would have to be made. Under the system at present the Indians are relieved from taxation and are therefore not citizens of the state. The leaders all say that they think that the way to do would be to give each Indian his part, turn him adrift, subject him to taxation and give him the right of citizenship. The Idea of having them all cooped up on one old hill Is antiquated and not in accordance with ideas of modern civilization. Under this community Idea the Indian knows that he never can have much, that his living Is due him and therefore there Is a tendency to shlftlessness that Is very marked. "An Idle brain Is the devil's workshop," and Is well illustrated in their case. With nothing to do they drift into bad habits and have degenerated Into a shiftless class. Such is the condition at present. The state of South Carolina owes a debt of gratitude to the Catawba Indians. From the first time that the white man came Into this country they have been his stanch allies, fighting against their own people in his behalf and helping him in all his wars. There were several from this tribe in the Confederate army and they made splendid soldiers. The state took the best of their land, leaving them only 625 acres of the poorest land in the state, and making them a yearly appropriation that Is totally inadequate for their support. The final settlement that is now being asked for by the Indians Is a matter of much Interest and speculation on the part of all South Carolinians that know anything about the Catawba tribe of Indians.?Anderson Dally Mail. WHAT 18 A "LADYr Funny Definitions By English School Children. [ Some elementary school children were asked to write down what they understood by a lady. Some of the an swers deserve a wider publicity thaa that of the magazine of Oraystoke (L C. C.) Training College, England, in , which they were recently published. : The following is a selection: , Ada (aged 7). A lady maris a man i and she goes In a carisg or she goes In i a motor. Sometimes she is a rich lady. anmaHmaa sh? eoes to a ball, and she I has glasses when she can't see, and i when her father dies she Is a widow. , Flossie (aged 6). A lady Is one of . my antles. I know her by her face and i one of my antles have got a little boy i and one of my antles have got a little , Kin. John (aged 8). A lady Is a pres (person) And a Cookmaed And a lady , does the wrek (work) And a ladydos , the doorstep And Clens the handle of the dore. And the nokre And the , stevos (stoves) And the tadools and bred. , Bertie (aged 7). A lady has got a , love haves (house) and have got some serves and lovely frames and a ring and a lovely long hair and a pony trap. I Edle (aged 8). A lady has a very nice house and she has nice things in it and when she Is married she has very nice wrings and then she mite have a nice husband and sometimes he treats her to nice things and then she treats him to nice things and then they be kind to each other. Lizzie (aged 7). A lady is something like a man. But she's got long hair and she's got a different face and different clothes and she's got a lot of work to do. Ernest (aged 7). A lady Is a mother oo as a lot of children and she thest (tries) to get rid of her children. Howard (aged 7). A lady has not got some trowsers. But a man has got some trowsers. A lady has got some Hair. A lady has got long Hair. Harry (aged 7). A lady is a maid and sometimes a cook that cooks the dinner, and a lady as a skirt, and when a lady Isn't married, she Is called a widow a lady has long hair. Dolly (aged 7). A lady is a kind YVooman. A lady Is a Guvnais. A lady is a Ruler. A lady Is a kind and gen i~ wAnma n tn lit* and eives us clothes. IIC n?/V.I?WM ? 3 Jack (aged 7). A lady Is a nice 3 woman because she don't have torn clothes, and she has a woch with her ? and she has a chane on the woch. * Ned (aged 7). A lady is like a Mis1 tress and like a sister and she prhers ^ (preaches) to people and tchhs (teache es) about God. 3 Charles (aged 6). A lady is diver' ent from a man because a lady has e dlfrent clothes from a man, a lady has - Diffent eyes from a man and a lady e has DlfTent body from a man and a t lady has Diffent shoes from a man. o Jack (aged 6). A lady has A dress k and A man hasn't, and A man has A n top hat and A lady hasn't. o s it*" The Bank of England property s covers two acres.