The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, October 14, 1891, Image 2
JUDGE HOT.
' *t xcnrrxs m. lovtxtzsl.
Y? through whose v?ins the Jife-tides sw&erg
With rhvt tunic ebb and measured now,
'Whose pulsu ne'er like ligbtninc leap
At paseii n's touch or anser's blow ;
Wbo, hedged by custom's narrow round.
Scarce know your warmest frieud Irom foe,
And think yoa love, liecanso you've found
That you :ao dearer friendship know,
How dare yoajudge the soul that knows
No neutral crotmd 'twixt hell and beaven?
Which ever with life's wloit.' teat glows,
With jov :ransfixod. or sorrow riven.
To such I.ove is n<> idle name.
Or rosy dream, inanely sweet.
But chords of d<-ep, divines: p:i n,
Entwined with every heart-string's beat)
Wackxsha, wis.
. 'Twixt Life and Death
-?or
ODER MEDICAL ADVICE.
A Story of the FrancoPrussian
War.
BY ROBERT BUCHANAN.
CHAPTER XIV.
BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH.
A ^ \^^wfc^AYLIGHT came
wounded mnn
f??\ Ybq^C lying in a heavy
<3?? EB31 sleep. The old
dame sat by his
^fflCTadministered the ^anodyne acT^Pcording
to instructions of her
^'young mistress, and it seemed to
? hare had an almost miraculous
r effect.
% Early in the morning Dr. fluet
% appeared at the chateau and went
?P to the bedside. He 6aw at a glance
that the crisis was past, and after a careful
examination and redressing of the
wound pronounced the patient out of immediate
danger. During the examination
the German awoke and made a sign that
he wished to speak to the doctor alone; 60
the old dame was dismissed, and the two
men were left face to face.
"You have something to communicate
to me," said the Frenchman, seating himself
by the bed.
"Ah, monsieur," returned the German
officer, "it is not of myself that I wish to
speak, but of her whom God sent to save
me in my extremity."
"Mile, de Gaviolles? Yes, voa are
light; you owe your life to her."
"More than *my life, monsieur!" cried
the other, in a voice choked with tears.
"Ah! you do not know. But when I have
told you, you will adore her and pity me.
Botter if I had died! Better if 1 do not
live to look again into her noble face!
Charity so infinite is more than I can
k. hear."
Huet looked puzzled, and began to
' think that the mind of his patient was
wandering.
"Pray compose yourself," he said.
' Where is she, monsieur?" asked the
"wounded man, eagerly. "Have you seen
her?"
TV o m a
"*> UL (1115 UIUXUIU^. xsuuav avwavwm
tells me that the young fatly watched during
a portibn of the night, find then retired
to her own bedchamber."
"Not before she had saved my miserable
lifet Not before she had snatched me
Irom death, though she knew that I, of all
men, was the most undeserving! Monsieur,
I remember. I was sinking fast
"when 6he interfered and succored me?
me whom she should have left to perish!
?me whom she has cause to hate so
much!"
\"Come, come," said the Doctor, goodhumoredly;
"of course we know you are
a German, one of the enemies of France.
But a bullet, look you, absolves all such
enmities, and we people of France do not
carry our ferocities into the hospital or the
sick-ioom."
"Thanks, monsieur,"returned the other,
adlv. "To vou. also. I know I owe a debt
of gratitude; but that is different. To her
I owe far more?a debt which leaves me
hame-Btricken and penitent before my
God!"
His look was so frill of anguish, his
tone and manner bo solemn, that the
Doctor gazed at him in wonder. Tremulously,
with the tears 6till streaming
down his cheeks, the German reached
out his hand, and placed it upon Huet's
Arm.
"Monsieur, listen. Do tou know?
have you heard?that she has lost hex
lather?"
"No!" cried tho Doctor, starting in
amazement. "The Chevalier? He is not
dead?"
Woful beyond measure, in its utter
misery and self-repronch, was the look
"npon the German's face as he replied:
"Yes, monsieur. I killed him."
Thunderstruck and horror-stricken, the
Doctor shook off th? other's touch and
sprang to his feet.
"You killed the Chevalier? Do you mean
ft? Grand Dieu, it is too horrible! How?
How?
In broken accents the German told his
story?as he hod told it overnight to
Blanche, bnt more clearly and in fuller
detail. He described the incident of the
surprise, of the cutting down of Gavrolles,
of *he scene enacted afterward in the
moomignt, wnen tne (tying man committed
the medallion to his enemy's care. Dr.
Hiet, who had known the Chevalier well
J'; and esteemed him above most men, listened
in 6impl2 horror.
"It is well for you," he exclaimed, when
, the otbe: hnd tiuished, "that I d:d not
inow this before. I reproa -h myself low
that you were not suffered to die like a
dog. It is horrible?it is infamous! Even
yet, when the t.-uth becomes known to the
people, I will not answer for your life."
"My life is nothing, monsieur,"returned
the Bi'k man, with a groan. "I set no
store by it, God knows, save for the sake
of those whom I have left at home. It
would have been better, perhaps, if I had
died last night."
But Dr. Huet stayed to hear no more.
With a cry, almost an imprecaution, be
tushel from the room. In tie lobby he
came face to face with the old di>me.
~un, monsieur, will you come to my
young mistress? I have just been to her
room, and I have found her lying there
like one distracted. I am sure she has
not slept all night, and she talks so
strangely."
Great.y excited, Huet accompanied the
woman to the chamber, and there,
Stretched upon the bed, her face worn
with weeping, her hair dishevelled and
still moi-t and cold with the melte l snow,
be found Blanche lying. Her eyes were
-wide open, but she seemed to see nothing;
only at intervals, with strange monotony
and regularity, she cave vent to that terrible
moan with which she had heard the
fterman'8 tale overnighn.
"It is cerebral fever," he cried. "Look,
Sbe is quite unconscious. Poor child,
poor child! It is fortunate that I came
?ere."
Under Huet's instructions, Blanche was
ondressed and put into bed by the old
dame, who wept freely at her task, foi
Blanche seemed to her almost like nei
own < bild.
Returning to the chamber, the Doctoi
found the p^or gill lyiug with the same
fixed look and utteiinj: the same weiry
moan. Clad in her white nisrht-dreHs,
with ber 9ilkea hair falling around hei
face and setting it in u uoldt-n fiame, sh?
looked strangely beautiful.
The Doctor s eyes grew moist as thej
gaz^d upoa her.
"Ht^veiily jiowers!" he ifturmured to |
himscir. ""What fatality! The "man who
killed her father and the father's heartbroken
child both lying under the 6ame
roof?his roof?and" under my care. II
maSee my head swim to think of it. Well,
with God's help I will save her if I can.*
Fortunately the good Doctor had both
- ? -3 ??>/? mrwonrnr flic
, ; Milil till Li eXJIClK? U\*C, nuu, uiviw.x..,
infojmation he bad received enabled hiro
to o.etennine tlie cnaracter ox tne girr?
ailment.
He walked back to the chamber where
?e had left the wounded man, who, as he
entered, looked up wildly and exclaimed:
"Monsieur, have you seen her? Foi
pity's sake, toll me of her! The thoushi
of what she must suffer is wringing mj
heart."
"She is unconscious," replied Huet between
his set teeth, frowning and drawing
back from the other's outstretched handB.
"You killed the father, and I fear you have
destroyed the child. I doubt if she will
ever recover."
Giving a great sob, the German turned
his face away r.nd covered it with his
trembling hands.
CHAPTER XV.
THE GERMANS.
"While these things were taking place at
the chateau, the surrounding district
continued in a panic of excitement, owing
to the near presence of the victorious
Germans. A little experience, however,
showed the country people that the ferocity
of the enemy was, to say the least, exaggerated.
Etretat was quietly occupied.
Grave foreign officers in spectacles were
, found strolling on the seashore. There
was no more fighting, as all the French
I troops, onlv a handful at the most, had
i retired along the coast in the direction of
Dieppe.
Two days after the wounded officer of
Uhlans had been carried into the Chateau
of Grandpre a small company of cavalry,
headed by an officer, rode up the avenue
toward the chateau and halted on the
lawn beneath the terrace. The offier, dismounting,
walked up the steps to the door
and knocked. After a delay of some
minutes the door was opened by old Hubert.
"What may monsieur please to want?"
asked the old man, quaking in every limb.
"You have one of our officers lying here
wounded," said the German in French. "I
wish to see.him."
"Certainly, monsieur," answered Hubert.
"Will you be good enough to enter?
And will you please to step softly, as my
poor young mistress is very ill?"
"He is alive, of course?" muttered the
officer, halting on the threshold.
"Yes, monsieur."
On receiving this reply the officer beckoned
and another German, also in uniform,
leaped from the saddle aud ran up to his
side.
"Yes, he is here. Come with me, Borgfeldt;
you maybe wanted."
With obsequious timidity Hubert led
the way up-sUirs into the sick man's room.
He was lying in bed, propped up with pillows,
and reading a book. One glance al
the book showed its religious character.
T4- -n-r> n T^AnnTr n/lifinn t It a Vots
Testament.
"Hartmann, old fellow!" cried the officer,
with outstretched hands, "this is,
indeed, fortunate. We had given you up
for dead."
Hartmann smiled sadly, returning the
kindly pressure.
"God has been good to me. as you see,'
he replied. "I survive, while better men
are in their graves. Ah. Dr. Borgfeldt, is
tiat you?"
"What was it?" asked Borgfeldt, who '
was a tall, clean-shaven man in spectacles.
"A bullet wound?"
Hartmann pointed to his heart, and the
German doctor, stoopiug down, made a
hasty examination.
"It was an ugly wound," he muttured;
"the ball lodged close to the pleura, onlj
just missing the left lung. Who extracted
it?"
"A clever French doctor. Ah! he ie
here. Let me introduce him?Dr. Huet.'
Huet, who had entered the room, bowed
stiffly.
"How is mademoiselle, your patient?'
asked Hartmann, eagerly. "Better, I praj
God?"
"Better?and worse," replied Huet,
coldlv. "The fever is leaving her, bul i
from'time to time are signs that she is beginning
to remember. I dread the complete
return of her faculties, for then '
"Yes, yes; I understand," cried Hartmann.
"Would to Heaven that I could
comfort her! but, alas! it is too late foi
that. May God forgive me!"
The other two Germans Tstened in nc
little surprise to this conversation, which,
of course, they were at a loss to under- ;
stand. Then the officer broke in:
"Well, Hartmann, what c^n we do foi ]
you? You seem in snug quarters here, sc
that it is unnecessary to think of removing |
you, I suppose?" 1
"Pardon me," interrupted Huet, "the (
sooner he is removed from this house the
better."
"Quite right," said Hartmann, sadly. "1
have no mht here, where my very presence
is an outrage. Take me away as soon i
as possible." ,
Without asking any further questions j
the offiw>r momised to ?<#nd an ambulance
c%rt that very atternoon, and in the teeni.
time to tell off a couple of soldiers to keep I
guard over the patient and attend to his
ttants.
In the afternoon the ambulance arrived
and Hartmann was assisted down. It was
an open vehicle with a canvas awning,
Mi/laltr nvlnTnriAri'/fl/l fnn ornl
| ? LiUCtJ UA?VU1| UIK'VU AVI WUU ^UlL/VOV. UUU |
bti'own thickly with straw, on which the
invalid wus ab? to lie almost at full \
length. Lying thus, with his head propped
up by pillows, he could see the wintry
6cene" around?the trees laden with snow, j
the dri.rt upon the ground, the gray, still
heaven above the woods.
Huet stood on.the steps of the chateau
watching his departure. Hartmann beckoned
to hiin. I
"Monsieur," he said, "I am going away ,
with a heavy heart. All my thought and
care tow is for Mile, de Gavrolles. |
Should slie ever speak of me?should she
ever bear to think of one so nnworthy?
tell her that I shall never forget her, nevei
cease to pray for her and to bless her.
May God comfort her, monsieur, and
watch over her, now and fotever!"
Huet made no reply. The cart moved
slowly away, driven by a soldier in undress"
and with a mounted soldier in uniform
on eithc-r side. Down the long
bleak avenue, through the wintry woods,
went the little procession. Here and
there the snow was so dc?p that progress
was difficult, aud it was necessary for the.
6oldiers to alitfht an.l free the wheels.
Hartmann lay Iocfklng on the desolate
scene, his heart full of a kindied desolation.
His thoughts were wandering backward
to the 6ick-room where the mar- ]
tyred girl was lying.
" Tuey had traveled some distance
through the woods, and could tee the |
open country close at hand, when the ]
driver came to a full 6top. Blocking the ,
narrow road was a traveling carriage, one (
of the wheels of which had loosened and j
was lying deeply imbedded in the snow.
The driver was on foot, now examining
the c image, now gesticulating wildly to j
the soldiers rs they approached.
Seated in the carriage, with his face
turned away from Hartmann, was a tall J
gentlemen in military undress, carrying (
his arm in a sling.
With an?ry exclamations in their native |
tongue, the German soldiers rode up to
the driver and seemed commanding him |
to clear the_jvay. He answered them with
i, volley m French, not a worn ot wmch ]
they understood and pointed to the wheel.
"What is the matter?" asked Hartmann.
addressing the diiver of his own vehicle. 1
"An accident, Herr Captain," replied
the man, salut^ug. "The cairiige has '
broken down." 1
At this moment tfce strange gev.tleman, i
leaning on a stick or crutch, alighted from 1
the carimge. The light fell upon his pale
face i.nd close-cioppai hair. <
H..rtiuan'i started nnd raised himself
1 upon hi6 pillow. .Something in the face
Eeemea iamuiar. ITS ancl Ioosea
onoin Ciinfc nf linnrpn mnM it bft nOB
Bible? Tiembling violently, he called to
the driver of the ambulance:
"Quick! go to that gentleman! Demand
his name and wbitber he is going!"
Xh6 man leaped down, and, joining the
group nt tbe side of the carriage, addressed
the stranger. Then he came back to
Hartm inn. 0'id said, painting:
"His name, Herr Captain, is the Chevalier
de Gavrolles, and he is returning invalided
to his home yonder at the chateau."
Had an angel from heaven alighted
npon his path, bringing some happy message
from another woild, Hartmann could
not have fal? - vildsr .suture 01 a mor?
wonaermg awe. A cry Droue irom Ms
lips; his eyes swam with sudden tears.
On. the goodness of God! the great mercy
and marvel of His ways! The world
brightenod as if with morning sunshine.
Eavth and heaven seemed radiant with
6ome holy light.
'Ask him to come this way. Entreat
him. I must speak to him. Quick, for
Heaven's finks."
j.xie man ooeyec! and again walked ovei
to the carriage, where the coachman, assi6ted
by the soldiers, was busy attempting
to mend the wheel. Then, after a
minute, the gentleman, leaning on hia
crutch and partly supported by the soldier
in undress, made his way laboriously to
the side of the ambulance.
Hartmann leaned over with trembling,
/I fKo Inntftd I
up at him in surprise.
"Monsieur, do you not know me?" cried
the German. "Ah, heaven! do you not
remember? I left you for dead. You
f;ave me that last message?that medalion?"
"Is it possible?" returned the Chevalier.
"The German officer who "
"Who thought that ha was guilty of your
death, but who now thanks God for restoring
you?so unexpectedly to life. Ah, monsieur,
it is a miracle! It is God's doing!
Tell me?how did it happen? How were
you saved?"
"By your countrymen," answered the
Chevalier, smiling and taking Hartmann's
hand. "A party of Germans carrying the
Red Cross lound me lying where you left
me, and, discovering some faint signs of
life, bore me (o their ambulance. Your
Burgeons are both skillful and humane;
under their care I at last recovered."
"Thauk God! thank God!" cried Hartmann,
raising his eyes to heaven, while
the tears streamed down his cheeks and he
sobbed like a little child.
That evening Dr. Huet stood by
Blanche's bedside, watching her as she
slept under the influence of a narcotic administered
in the afternoon. Suddenly she
6tirred, moaned faintly and opened her
eyes. The wild look of delirium had faded
from her face and Dr. Huet saw that she
recognized him.
Then, in a moment, came memory,
flashed before her like a mirror. All hex
brain was clear and he saw that she remembered,
"With a wild cry 6he covered
her face with her hands and uttered hei
father's name.
"Mademoiselle," said the Doctor gently,
"are you listening? I have something to
tell you."
She drew her hands from her face and
raised her eyes to his. He placed his hand
6oftly upon her shoulder and continued in
hn cnmA VinrHv tone!
"Will you tell me about your dreamsi
Sometimes, I think, they were about youi
father, my old friend the Chevalier, were
they not? Ah! then you must not distress
yourself. Sometimes, when love is so
great as yours, it works miracles and brings
back the dead."
Who wns that stirring the shadow oJ
the door and listening? Blanche could
not see., for her eyes were blind with tears.
"FatliCr! she crind
"Alademoisfu'o, ao not weep. 1 hnv?
had news which will give you comfort
Your father lives still, an.l sends yon his
loving blessing."
She rose up in bed wilh a wild cry and
seized Huet's arm.
"Lives! lives!" she cried. "No; he is
dead! He killed him! Monsieur, foi
pity's sake, tell me! What have yoo
heard?"
Who was this stealing into the ch&mbei
?a tall, gray man, with a face full ol
eager love and rapture, and eyes full oi
blinding tears?
Was she dreaming still, or was it th?
spirit of her father? Xo. not dreaminp,
and no spirit. He came close to her; he
bent over her.
"Blanche, my darling, do you not kno\*
me? It is I?your father."
"Fofhpri" nTin priftd; and. onenint? her
arms to embrace him, fell swooning upon
his breast.
"My child, my child!" he Bobbed. fc]
have killed her."
"No, old friend." said the good Doctor,
brushing away a tear from his own check.
"Jo? doe? not kill eo easily; 6he will recover.
"
CHAPTER XYL
CONCLUSION.
Meantime, while the events were pro*
feeding at the chateau, Honzcl, the "for.
ester, had conducted himself more like a
madman then a rational being. A nameless
race, tempered with dread, pursued
him. During the long nights he watched
the windows of the chateau, where he
knew the wounded officer was lying; then,
when day came, he wandered through the
woods and by the saa, a prey to his own
Btormy thoughts.
As the enemy came nearer, overrunning
the district, Houzel was among the foremost
in residence until, on the very day
of the Chevalier's return, he was caught
lurking in the woods near the village, attei
having just nreu irom me nusnes ni some
officers of the enemy. Dragged from big
hidin?-place, struggling like a wild boast,
and loudly proclaiming bi6 treacherous
deed, he was given a shoft shrift. He died
fearlessly and defiantly, and as he fell th<
ast word on his lips was the name of his
mistress.
Two years had passed away, when, on
:he first day of the new year, a little party
?-as gathered together in the Chateau of
Grraudpro. At the head of tbe table sat
the Cbevnlier de Gavrolles, Btill partly
srippled by his wounds, but otherwise
sell and strong. Facing him was his
laughter Blanche, a little paler and saddei
;hnn of old, but as beautiful as ever.
On his left sat worthy Dr. Huet and t> e
little cure, and on his right, with eyes over
fixed on Blanche in teuder respect and
iffection, the German officer of Uhlans, in
plain civilian dinner costume, like any
srdinary gentleman.
The Chevalier had his glass charged,
md was in the act of giving a toast.
"The old year has gone oiit in peace;
nay the new year bring further forgiveless
and reconciliation. Peace for France!
Peace for the world!"
"Amen to that!" oiid Hartmann.
me om landmarks c'nnnge," proceeded
the Chevalier, smiling. "Who would ever
tiave piophesied that a savage Teuton
ivould ever be welcome in tbe Chateau of
Krandpre? Yet Blanche will have it 60^
it seems."
"Xo. father," cried Blanche, blushing;
"it was you yourself that wrote to Germanv
and brought an enemy back."
"Under ra&dical advice." interrnDted
Huet. "L'oj-Dleu! I did not want to nave
mother funeral; and as mademoiselle was
so delicate. I prescribed the only remedy."
A merry peal of laughter went round the
table.
"I nm a Teuton no longer," exclaimed
the German. "I find mynationality where
I found mv life?in the Chateau of Giandpre."
Here the little cure broke in:
"Th -t'B all very well; but if there should
be another war, what then?"
"In any case,"8'tid Hartmann, "I am
invalided forever. No more fighting for
me. I shall remain at the fireside with
my dr.rlins nurse; and if ever the nations
te'.'in quarrrfling again, I 6hall say "
"Peaje to France! Peace to the world!"
nied the Ch^alier.
And All drank the toast again together.
[THE END.]
I APrrrrnnMPQ I
J1IIV11V llUMJUUi
ARCHITECTURE OP THE NATIVE
HOUSES IN ALASKA
Houses ot Snow and Ice?Securing '
Heat and Light?Winter Villages
on the Coast?The Tote in?In
British Columbia.
Beginning with the Eskimos of the
extreme north and coming down the
coast of Alaska the architecture keep on
improving until it reaches its culmination
among the coast Indians of southern
Alaska and British Columbia.
The Eskimo often builds a house of ice
and snow, cutting blocks of frozen snow
and laying them CDe on tht other. They
are first.arranged in a circle; then other
block9 are added, each layer projecting
a little beyond the other on the inside,
till nothing is left but a small bole in
the top. Then a tunnel-like passage to
the outer air is made and the house is
complete.
A SNOW HOUSE.
The Eskimo has an original way of
getting heat and light for his house.
His stove and fireplace combined is nothi
ing more than a stone dish, above which
he suspends a piece of blubber by a
string. In the dish is a wick, which is
H/VK+orl tlip nirl nf flint and nrritea.
? g-J ,
or by twirling a stick of wood between
the palms, against a larger stick, or by
using a bow drill. The heat, ascending,
melts the blubber drop by drop, and thus
feeds the stove or lamp.
This simple contrivance does not furnish
a very great heat, but as the native
is used to it he gets along pretty well.
The denizens of Point Barrow can stand
a temperature of fifty degrees without
any clothes on.
Another kind of habitation for winter
use in the far north is made from driftwood.
This sort of house is erected
without much regard to proportion or
effect. A rude framework is made by
simply laying the picces of woodvso as to
form a room with a hole in its top for
the ingress of air and the egress of
smoke.
The outside is sometimes banked with
earth to 3top up the cracks. A sort of
open-air store house is often put up, consisting
of a platform on which the pro
visions and general effects of the family
are kept.
The Eskimos often build huts of bones
and whatever drift they can get and
cover the entire outside with earth, making
a house which is in general appearance
like a mound.
From as far north as Mt. St. Elias to
Puget Sound, in the State of "Washington,
there is a continuous archipelago.
Running along this extent of coast are
the Cascade Mountains, which divide off
a strip of country 1000 miles long and
A WINTER BOUSE AT PT. BELCHER.
150 miles wide. This is generally desig
nated "the northwest coast." Winding
through the tortuous channels of this
archipelago is the steamer track to Sitka,
abounding in wild and grand aceneiy.
The climate1 of thU country is much
milder than is generally supposed.
This is due to Asiatic currents and a
large annual rainfall. It is said that the
mean annual temperature is about that of
the District of Columbia. Thi3 area is a
thickly wooded one, pine, fir, spruce and
hemlock abounding. The soil is fertile,
the forests well stocked with game and
the waters full of food fish: This abundance
of nature's <?ifts is reflected in the
character of the people inhabiting it, many
of whom have made considerable progress
in various arts, being workers in
metal, bone, slate and other substances,
but par excellence in wood.
The Indians of the northwest coast are
the Tlmgit, Haida and Tsimshian,
Kwakiutl, Wakashaw and Bilgula, besides
the Salish or Coast Salish. The
northern Indians, especially the Haidas,
are the greatest carvers in horn, wood,
slate, etc.
Scattered throughout this country are
the winter villages of the coast Indians.
These villages are always locacod near
the shore and generally near a sloping
beach, which admits of readily hauling
up the canoes at high wuter. The
canoe is their only means of transportation.
The houses are built in a single row
facing the beach aud far enough back
from it to leave room for a street, where
fish are dried and canoes repaired. Sometimes,
where the space is limited, the
houses are built in two rows with a narrow
street between. At one end of the
village is situated the graveyard with a
variety of sepulchres and mortuary col
umns all cut out of wood, and the colums
often elaborately carved. "Wood is
the material mostly used in construction.
The interiors of the houses vary according
to location and the wealth of
the owner. A quite general practice is
to excavate the inside of the house so as
to form two ledges or steps, one above
the other, and extending completely
around it, the higher one next to the
walls. Thejo ledges are covered with
slabs made of cedar. The lower one is
used for lounging and sleeping on,while
the upper one serves as a depository for
the family's effects.
1
In front of each house 19 generuuy to
be seen one or more carved columns. '
Occasionally can be seen a very tall one.
This is a totem. None but the wealthy
can afford to erect these and the owner
of one is, as the head of his household,
a petty chief in his village, and consequently
a person of importance. In
general these columns are genealogical J
and illustrate the descent or traditions i
of a family. They are in no sense idols, 1
as many persons suppose who see the
specimens of these columns in the U. S.
National Museum. i
There are generally platforms either 1
attached to the house* or across the i
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V
roadway toward the shore. In the latter
case they are supported by pole3 if there
is a bank next to the beach. Upon
these nlntfnrma in rrni-irl -monf.ViAr the Tin -
tives gather for social intercourse and to
gamble.
The Haidas, Tsimshiaa and Tlingit
are inveterate gamblers. Daring the
winter leisure or whenever they get together
in any considerable numbers
gambling is the invariable and constant
amusement. They keep it up for several
days at a time. The players sit about
the platform, in the center of which is
spread a mat. E?ch man has a bag of
painted or carved pins about five inches
long by half an inch in diameter. One
of the players selects several of these
r\ inn on fViam tin
uuixi ms uacj uuu uucm
in a pile of finely cut bark tow. The
game is either odd or even, or to guess
in which or two piles a particular stick
is hidden.
Many of these Indians are addicted to
overindulgence in liquor, and the kind
they get ia not of particularly good
quality. .
The Kwakiutl Indians of British Columbia
have very original residences,
which are well worth a description.
Their houses have a framework of poles
and heavy rafters. Two heavy beams
run through from front to rear to support
the roof, which has a gable. The
THE WINTER VILLAGES.
house has no chimney, but some of the
boards forming the roof can be removed
to allow smoke to escape.
These houses provide accommodations
for four families, who occupy the fou*
corners, and there is a fireplace for each
of them. The corners are divided off
from the main rooms by a framework of
poles on which each family dries its fish
or other food. On each side of the fireplace
there is an enormous settee capable
of seating the whole family. But the
bed rooms are the most curious feature.
These are really small houses with gable
roofs and are built on a platform running
around the inside of the large
house. They have in these rooms small
fireplaces.
In summer the southern Alaskan and
coast Indians generally live in houses of
temporary construction. While the
salmon fishing is good there will usually
be found close by the mouth of some
fresh water stream owned by a family a
rudely built structure. This varies in
size,, etc., according to circumstances.
As a rule these summer houses are
built with a light framework and have a
roof made of strips of bark overlapping
and held down by poles and stones.
Then there is a primitive form of tent,
which is carried in canoes when the
Indian is traveling. This consists of
strips of bark. When he wishes to go
into camp he simply cuts two sapling3
with forks at one eud of each, sharpens
them to a point and sticks them in the
ground. Then he lays a pole in the
forks, rests his strips of bark against it
and is ready foi the night, or "for rain,
either, as the bark will shed water
readily.
|
KWAKITJTL HOCSE.
Many of Ihe Indians of Alaska now use
cotton sheeting to make their tents of.
This kind resemblos the regular A tent.
The people of King's Island have very
queer looking houses. They are made
of skins stretched over a framework of j
wood and are perched high in the air on '
elevated platforms.? Washington Star.
Slie Accompanies Her Husband.
"''i'ii'.iii4V',!S*'
Mr?. Josephine D. Peary, depicted
above, is the wife of Civil Engineer R.
E. Peary, of the United States Navy,
who is in commnud at Ncrth Greenland
of aa expedition which has gone out
under the auspices of the Philadelphia
Academy of Science?. Mrs. Po?.ry is
with her husband on this long journey.
Her costume, as shown by the cut, well
becomes her, rendering her appearance
exceedingly juvenile. The party has |
established headquarters at Whale Sound
Vampire Bats in Brazil.
Vampire bats are so destructive to
cattle in the Brazilian provinces of Matti
Grossi and Eutre Rios that stock-raising
has become unprofitable. The Government
offers SnOOU reward for the suggestion
of auy plau which will tend to
abate the pest. In a single night as
many as twenty of the winged bloodsuckers
attack a single cow, leaving it
helpless on the field.?Chicago Times.
A mosque is about to be erected in Vienna,
Austria, for. the use of the Mussulman
troops from Bosnia and Hersegovina,
when these are temporarily sta:ioned
in Viepna.
Late developments in elcctro-photography
indicate that it may be possible
to take photographs of views located
many miles from the camera.
/
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SPONGE FISHING.
DETAILS CONCERNING AN INDUS^RY
IN THE BAHAMAS.
The Methoil of Gathering th?
Sponges and Preparing Them
l'or Market and the Profits
of the Work.
Consul Thomas J. McLain of the
United States consulate at Nassau, in the
Bahama Islands, in respone to the direction
of the State Department, has furnished
an interesting paper on the sponge
trade of the Bahamas, in which the
value of the industry and the methods
of catching the sponges are given.
The vesseb employed in the trade are
small, varying from five to twenty-five
tons, sloop or schooner rigged, and are
built in the local shipyards. The construction
and repair of these vessels constitute
an important industry in itself.
They have small cabins for sleeping purposes.
The cooking is done on deck.
About 500 of these vessels are engaged
ii rnu ^
m garnering sponges. iuc jjuluuci ui
persons gathering sponges in the Bahamas,
handling them and preparing
them in various stages for market, is
from 5000 to 6000, all of whom,
except the shipowners, brokers
and shippers, are black
people. Hands employed in clipping,
washing, packing and prepairing finally
for shipment abroad get from 50 to 75
cents per day of ten hours. The amount
earned by the men who go fishing depends
entirely on the number of sponges
obtained. The owner of the vessel fits
her out at his own expense, and the
profits of the voyage are divided up in
shares among the owner, the master,
and the men. They are never hired by
the month, nor do they ever get specified
wages. The most that can be said is
that the men make a tolerable living,
and the sponge fisherman who earns over
three hundred a year is the exception.
The method of gathering sponges is
by means ot iron hooks aiiacnea to *oag
poles. JJy using a water glass the fisherman
can readily discover the sponges at
the bottom, and then by the pole and
hook can bring up those he may select,
leaving the smaller ones untouched.
Some sponges adhere firmly to the bed
of the sea, while others are not attached
at all, these latter being known a3
'rollers." About ten yeare ago an attempt
was made to introduce dredges,
but it was found that their use was likely
to ruin the beds, becauso in passing over
the bottom they dislodged and brought
up not only the good sponges, but the
young and unsalable one3 as well, killing
the spawn and working great mischief.
Such an outcry was raised against dredging
that an act was past forbidding it.
"When brought to the vessel the sponges
are at once spread upon the deck and
left exposed to the sun for several days,
during which time the animal matter that
covers the sponge gradually dies. This
is a black, gelatinous substance of a very
low order of marine life, which, during
the process of decay, emits a most objectionable
odor. The vessels visit what
is called the kraal once a week to land
the load from the dcck. The kraal is an
inclosed pen, fenced in by sticks of wood
so as to allow a free circulation of water
through it, usually built in a sheltered
and shallow bay or cove on one of the
bays near by. The sponges are placed in
the kraal and left to be soaked and
washed by the action of the water from
four to six days, when they are taken
out and beaten with sticks until the decayed
covering i3 entirely removed.
Having been subjected to this course of
exposure, soaking, beating and washing,
the sponges are quite clean and are
taken on board the vessel, packed iu the
hold, conveyed to Nassau, and in this
condition are sold to the local market.
Of the larger sponges a catch of 50U0,
or of the smaller ones 7590, would be
considered a fair lot. Occasionally a
cargo of from 12,000 to 15,000 large
sponges has been brought in, but this
success is exceptional.
The principal varieties gathered in the
Bahamas are as follows: Boat, grass,
glove, hardhead, reef (white and dark),
velvet, (abaco and cay), sheep wool and
yellow, of which the most vaulable is
sheep wool. The total export in 1890
reached over 900,000 pounds, valued at
$306,896. The crop of that year was
about the average, being really the most
valuable one in many years. Of that
crop there were shipped to the United
States, 708,000, valued at $238,000.
Bahama sponges are not considered very |
good, but a ready market is found for
all that can be obtained and at constantly
improving prices. There are no
indications of any failure of the supply.
?Philadelphia Ledger.
Largest Lily in tUo World.
The Botanical Garden has succeeded
in propagating tne iarnous royai water i
lily, or as it is known in botany, "The
Victoria Regia." One of them is now
in full bloom in the little fountain soutti
of the main greenhouse, and several are !
in bloom in the basin of the large cen- I
ten nial fountain in the centre of the !
grounds. J
The plant is a most peculiar growth,
the lesve3 resembling in form huge frying
pans, varying in diameter from six
to eight feet, and, on account of their
peculiar construction, are capable of sustaining
considerable weight. Yesterday
a tjihotograph was taken of the lily with
tire nine-year-old son of the assistant
superintendent of the gardens complacently
sitting in the middle of one of
the mammoth leaves. This is not the
first time lilies of this variety have been
grown in the United States, but it is the
first instance where they have flowered
in water not artificially heated.
The flower is exceedingly beautiful,
and resembles in its first stage a large
magnoiia. As it grows older its color
changes to a delicate pink, gradually becoming
red, until finally it sinks from
sight and develops a seed pod.
Hundreds of persons visited the gardens
and viewed the curious botanical
creation. Superintendent Smith has decided
to keep the garden opeu every daj |
during the blooming of this lily until !
dark, so that every one can have a chanct
of viewing the largest water lily in the
world.? Washington Star.
A Cross-Eyed Dog.
One of the curiosities at the Union
Depot Tuesday was a cross-eyed dog.
He seemed to be conscious of his deformity
and did not at all relish the
curiosity he excited by the crowd. The
animal belonged to a traveling man, who
said the dog's eyes became afflicted from
watching too long the antics of a fly on
his nose.?Mexico {Mo.) Intelligencer. ,
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HARVEST SLUMBER SOMA
Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleeps
Red is the moon in the night's still deep, "f
White are the stars with their silver wingt' v
Folded in dream ings of beautiful things,
And over their cradle the night-wiad sings;
Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleep.
Soft in the lap of the mother night
The wee baby stars, all glowing and bright^ I
Flutter their silver wings and crow
To the watchful winds that kiss as theK
blow
Round the air-cradle that swings so low,
Down in the lap of the mother night.
Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleep.
Bed is the moon in the night's still deep,
And the wee baby-stars are all folded and
kissed
In a luminous cradle of silver mist;
And if ever they waken, the winds cry
whist!
Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleep.
?W. W. Campbell, in Youth's Companion*
PITH A|D_ POINT.
The trouble with the crank is that h?j
will turn only one way.?Dallas News. ;
It is the uninstructed delegate that is
ordinarily the most intelligent.?Botton
Herald. |
The love of the man who marries forf
moneyisfouDded upon the rocks.?Pitt+>
lurg Press.
It's odd that by devoting all her time
to Browning a girl can get pale.?Chicago
Times.
A great mauy men are like new ground
?do better when they are broken up.?<
Columbus Post.
What is monopoly? A corporation iof
which other fellows hold all the stock.?J
Texat Siftings. !
A turtle is a lazy fellow; but no other
# 11 ,1 . , * t ** * t
ienow tniniis ne nas a son snap.?
mond Recorder.
Sailors are the only class of men known*
who will voluntarily sit down on a tack.
?Philadelphia Press.
The most difficult ups and downs of,
this life are keeping expenses ddwn and
appearance up.?Atchison Globe. j
Female pages were employed by thd
last Legislature in Oklahoma. This is,
turning over a new leaf.?Rochester Pott-\
Express. -|
The musical fad in London is playing
the harp. The lyre?no matter how yoa
spell it?cannot "be kept down.?Philadelphia
Ledger. ' |
Many barbers refuse to ahave a customer
in a thunder storm; they don't like
to be disturbed in the middle of their
talk.? Richmond Recorder. i
Warm was the look in her eyes of brown
When I met her down by the summer se??
To-day when I meet the maid In town, ?
Cola is the stare that she gives to me.
?Philadelphia Inquirer. {
Figgs?"Closefist left his property so,
that his widow could not marry again.'1)
Diggs?"How was that?" Figgs?"Hfli
left it all to his son."?New York Her
aid.
He?"I am resolved to live no longer
if you reject me. You?you?are my,
lite. Speakl" She?"Well, I don't
care if you take your life, then."? (7Ai-!
cago News.
Bloofer?"I suppose your wife has
vials of wrath in store for you now and}
then?" Breyey?"Vials? No, .sir; noth-j
ing short of a shower-bath suffices foe
her!"?Truth. *
George "Was Doing Quite Well: Ethel
?"I have had more than fifty offers this
season." Maud?"For the land's sakef
Who from?" Ethel?"From George."
?New York Sun. if
The Prodigal Son: Sunday-school
Teacher?"Johnny,who was the prodigal
eon?" Johnny?"Oh, that was the fel-1
low who went away a auae ana came
back a tramp."?Cincinnati Commercial
Gazette. .
The Oldest Inhabitant: Tourist?
"How long have you been living here,
my friend?" Native?"See that big hill
over thar?" Tourist?"Yes." Native?
"Wal, that was yere when I came jere.J>
?Jury. | -if
"Do you think you could support my
daughter?" inquired the cautious father.
"Why, sir," replied the suitor, "ij ,
think so; I never heard it intimated*, .
that she was insupportable."?Washington
Star.
"That was a very reasonable request
the Rev. Mr. Whitetie made last Sunday."
"What was it?" "Herequested
that no buttons be contributed for the
heathen without garments attached to'
them."?New York Sun.
Rich Uncle (struggling in the water
and on the point of drowning)?"A
thousand dollars to the man who savea
me." His Nephew (an expectant heir)
?"I'll give ?10,000 to the man who
doesn't."?Brooklyn Life.
No Dry Goods Measure: Young Housewife?"I
think we'll have some eels
for the first course, cook." Cook?
unr.nrrr irmch shall I pet?" Younsr
Housewife?"Oil, about three yards will
do, I should think."?Drake's Jfajazine.
Clerk?"A Montague street man complains
that there is a lot of rubbish ia
front of his house. What shall be done!"
Street Commissioner?"That's an easy
qne. Have it removed and placed in
front of the house- next door."?Brooklyn
Life.
"I might not be able to cover as much
ground as you," said the camel to the
elephant, "but if it came to a race I
could hump myself." "And I," boastfully
chimed in the giraffe, "could beat
both of you by a neck."?BaV.imort
American.
Above the Snow Line: Guest (at Chicago
hotel)?"I wish vou would have
one of the boys take my overcoat up to
my room and show me the way." Clerk
?"I would advise you to put it on,sir,
if you are going to your room. It's on
the top floor, and you'll need it before
fou get there."?Clvthicr and Furnisher.
Mrs. Bingo?"You know we ladies
are anxious to do all wo cau toward'
building the new church, so each one of
us has agreed to deny ourselves the privilege
of a new gown." Mrs. Kingley?
"How self-sacrificing! Have you subscribed?"
Mrs. Bingo?"Oil, yes, I got
the moiiev from my husband the first
day."?Cloak Jicoietc.
Architect?"A modern seaside cottage
built on this plan would cost you $1500
?" Millionaire (disgusted)?"That
might do for a dog kennel." Architect
(with rare presence of mind showing
another plan)?"Yes, sir; that was my
idea. It would do for the dog kennel.
Here is the plan for the cottage itself,
which can be built, I think, for about
$100,000."?Chicago Tribune.
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