Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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IA WEIRD M Y STER Y; 1 Tracing a Dark Crime. BY ALEXANDER ROBINSON, M. D. j i 1 CHAPTER XJT. ( I began to see things that had been ( ^hidden beL'nd a veil of mystery. Leonore- his wife! 1 Something had come between them in the past, and the old Doctor believed his ' son to be a gnilty man. 8uppose sh? was guilty, would he ever i disclose the past? I believed llim a man of an iron will, 1 like his father before him. Truly had h9 said torture could not force him to reveal what he had seen. This is a surprise to me, Mr. Ketcham," I said, frankly. "As much so, perhaps, as the discovery . ?f Theodore's indentity was to me." "Leonore is his wife, and he was making an effort to see her when?he looked upon a sight that sent him away :again without accomplishing his er- i rand." "So it seems. * ( "Honestly now, Mr. Ketch am, since , you are not willing to believe that Theo- , dore saw his father killed, what do you < suppose he did gaze upon?" . "He saw his wife enter the old Doctor's room, and her face must have told him \ that she was crazy for the time. Unable ] to bear the cruel sight he hastened away, j came back to look again ano then fled. , "When you told him how his father, , Instead of committing suicide, as the , Coroner's jury decided, and the after- | , noon papers printed, had really been murdered, his mind leaped at once to the , dreadful truth, and he closed his lips ( ?pon the story. \ "That Is the most probable view we can place upon the matter, looking upon him in a charitable manner. Whether , Leonore is guilty or not, her husband t believes now that she slew his father iu a fit of Insane frenzy, and believing that . Ike is the one who holds the secret, has resolved to die before he will reveal It." , "That straightens the kinks out of the j line up to a certain place, Mr. Ketcham." , "Where is that, Doctor?" "The ppssible presence of a second ] party upon that trellis of vines on that night" j Mr. Ketcham was measuring the distance between a crack in the ceiling and { a corner of the room. He did not even , deign to oast me a glance. f "Ah! Doctor, you have something tc , ay upon that subject?" he drawled. "Yes, sir. In the first place, Theodore denies having passed more than once j each way between the walls and the ^ house." "There were two trails." "I know it; and yet they diverged iu t places. * , "Vin oTumtnA^ thft marks?" -I did." "And thought they had bees made by <j the same person?" i "At the time I never questioned it, and yet I can now see that a clear examina- c Hon might have revealed some differ r enc&" 4 "What next, Doctor?" "Theodore also swears he never owned a or carried a tool of the kind I described, a and which you affirm is an ingenious device of a burglar or cracksman." t Mr. Ketcham reached out his hand s and took the article in question from a v mall drawer near him. Not until then a did he withdraw his eyes from the ceil- v tog. ' ^Thls is an Ingenious device used by burglars almost exclusively, although, perhaps, there might be a few that o would fall into other hands." t "Well, he declines the honor of owner- o hip." I fancied I could see the detective'? t lace light up, as though I had given him g a valuable clew. c "That may be all stuff and nonsense, Doctor. Mind, I merely suggest that c Idea, and do not affirm it as my belief, t We do not know Theodore yet He may disappoint us and turn out a diabolical t Main." t Was this an attempt to turn me ofl <3 upon another tack' I half believed it, ana yet at the same ? time did not give myself away, simply making up my mind that more would be s J * iVJ- A. it. nearu irum uu? quaruer iu tut lutuie. The case was a remarkable one. li Mr. Ketcham, a detective of great ex- s perience, had solemnly declared It to be c the most mysterious and complicated of p his life. fc If this were the case, then I conld not 8 expect to solve it without great labor. What made it more difficult was the a fact that there were so many trails leading away from the scene of the crime, and any of these, at different times, * seemed to be the right track. "Doctor, I told you of one discovery I had mode. Now, there is another that may interest you. 1 "When I went down that morning to ceo Ursula; I found her examining the pantry window, which had been opened by a deft hand in the night." I heard his words with a feeling of both ? astonishment i nd satisfaction. It seemed t:> be a link in the chain leading to the third party. "Then a burglar entered the house i through the pantry window?" ' "That seemed to be the indication. What was singular about it was that not % thing bad been stolen." "The deuce! that is singular." "Perhaps T heodore entered the house this way when he came either the first or second time." "That is possible, of course." Did Mr. Ketcham believe this? It was hard to tell, for his face was liko that of a sphinx, and beyond the kon. qIan ordinary reader. Ho woro amaslC, figuratively speaking, beyond which It was impossible to spy. What if there had been another party In tho house on this night?who was ho? i If a burglar, what a fool not to havo i carried off the plunder whilo he had tho chance, and not go away empiy-nanaca. i I made up ray mind to investigate this matter before I would be satisfied. < Perhaps this person who had been lurking in the neighborhood, and who 1 bad entered tho houso after all, it I oeraod from Uic pantry window, might not have been a burglar after all. I Who then? My mind was clear as a bell. All that ' I had seen and heard relative to this ease rose up before me. < I realized that this was the last chance , to save Lconore. Should this fail then she must inevitably bo guilty. It all depended upon who was meant by Pr. Seabury when he expressed himself in dai y fear of some one. If we could only fathom this mystery of his past, th.M truth might be made clear. Who could help me? My thoughts turned to Theodore. Ho , might tell wliat mystery of The "past This i was connected with his father. The only question that aroso was whether he would feel so inclined. i There was no need of tolling all thiu to Mr.. Ketcham. The advantage was already on his side, since he had drawn out all I knew, * and suited himself about returning the favor. t By this I mean that he told me what j. tie discovered, but without taking me fully into his confidence, and explaining the possibilities of each discovery. I did not feel hurt by thiB way of con- 1 iuctinjr the .case. JTrom the beginning c iTTaO TeaTFzeiTthal IVwas'an horiffr to "be . connected wifh a man of sterling worth ; like Abner Kctcham. I was contented to assist him by any ! means that lay in my power, without any desire to reap the reward. In the name of justice I would work; at the same time It was with the hope that I could help to prove the innocence ? sf the one against whom the case seemed : darkest?Leonore. My mind was set In a certain quarter, and I was anxious to once more begin . work, so that I might the better learn < whether my last suspicions were founded ^ upon fact or were fated to be wafted away at the first breath of cooling wind. ^ In some way I must find out who had ^ entered through the pantry window, , what their object had been, and also . what they had seen or done. If this end could be achieved, I felt that the curtain must be raised and a glimpse of the truth be discovered. Every means within my power must bo brought to bear upon the matter, with t this end in view. In connection with this, I believed I ? had a strong point, whether Mr. Ketcham \ noticed it or not. t When we examined the tracks In the old room adjoining the Doctor's, and the c detective had fitted Leonore's small slipper into them, I had noticed two things which I believe I made note of at the n time. j] These were that there were other g tracks present, somewhat larger than | t hers, and also that in places these heavier ones completely covered the c marks we believed Leonore had left, thus establishing a very important t point, viz: this other person had passed i through the dusty room after Leonore. d Another little thing gave me courage a this way, for I had seen a faint touch 3f blood upon the knob of the door, as b though the knife had rubbed against it This fact was brought out again by Mr. h Ketcham, who mentioned it, although at c the time I had not known that he was a iware of its presence. n Putting these things all together, I be- r ;an to believe I had a strong case. The party who had murdered the old w physician, be it man or woman, had en- n tered the house by means of the pantry window, as Mr. Ketcham had seen. si Perhaps he had first tried the vines a Dut changed to the other. p When his bloody work was done he had tl etreated in the same way. fj This was easy to place. I took a posi- b live and keen pleasure In noting how q leatly all the facts seemed to join together, just as though the mechanism r< vere complete within the affair. o One little thing still troubled me. si This was the long black hair taken I rom the hand of the deceased. We had s< >elieved that ho had torn it from the ]i lead of the person who had murdered tl rim, and this nad appeared to establish u ho fact that this party must be a g roman, r< Was this necessarily so? I approached the subject carefully, si letermined not to leave a stone unturned n n the endeavor to ferret out the truth. First: It was not proven that this hair d ame from the head of his assassin. It night have been deposited there by accilent. g1 Then again the party might have been ^ , woman in disguise. No one could say ,ught to the contrary. w As a third thought: This supposed mrglar, whom I believed to be the assasin, must prove the long dreaded foe for n rhose coming Dr. Seabury had watched ,nd waited, knowing that fate was Tinging the time nearer. Who, then, could this enemy be? C( My mind went back. ^ The good Doctor had spent many year9 t| f his life in India, and it was probably 0 here where he had incurred the hatred f this ntrtv. Then the vengeance-seeker might be a j hug, one of that secret band ot assas- t] ins to whom the use of the cord and t] reese is sacred. ^ The presence of the wound made by a v reese suggested that such was the i. ruth. This far had I come, patching it up on e, he way, when, happening to look oward Mr. Ketcham, I saw that he had ^ .uietly inserted his hand into his pocket. When he drew it out he tossed a small rhite object toward me. J1 "Examine that, Doctor," he said, ^ Imply. y When I opened It out I saw it was a idy's embroidered handkerchief. A few tains sj Jalnpd marked it. Looking ,J loser r coufd see where it had been ? artly cut, as though a sharp instrument iad teen drawn through it. Further till, in one corner was the letter L . "Where did you get this, Mr. Ketch>tn?" I asked, holding my breath. . His answer eave me a terrible blow. I "In the room of Lenore, hidden belind a trunk, Doctor." g CHAPTER XV. ^ C unconsciously ? A shudder went ^ Of what -avail a this trying to fight against " the hand of fate? Better give 0 <3|^ it up, and let the hand of jus- ^ tice, in the shape of Mr. ^ Ketcham, have its course. w Truly, I felt discouraged, n the prospect ahead looked so ? Again I minutely Examined the frail b web in my hand. c There could hardly be the least doubt but that a knife of some sort had been 1 drawn through tho handkerchief to '' cleanse it. s Was it the creese that was wont to He t jpon the table in Leonore's room, used a is a paper cuttcr? Mr. Ketcham seemed to divine my u thoughts. Out from one of those capacious pock;ts he drew tho veritable weapon. I Evidently he had been putting his time r to good advantage around tho house on the avenue, while I wA chasing myths. 1 "See here, Doctor, how precisely this t fits, and tell me if you think it was tho weapon that was drawn through this / kercliict." I did look. He proved it to me in such t a. way that I must have confessed it as a t fact, even though it had signed tho c death-warrant of my dearest friend. Either that creese, or a blade justliko it, had been drawn through the handkerchief . "I am afraid I must give it up. sir." "I wouldn't do that, Doctor. This far you have carried your end of the log in a manner highly creditable to you, and with the greatest admiration from me. If you seo any chance for work still ahead, ferret it out. It is best to make all safe and sure." I was not a little surprised at these words from Mr. Kctcham. They puzzled me for quite a time. What was his object in uttering them (for that he kad an fMzrt j knew was jositive, as Tie was not the man ?o do my thing haphazard)? Did ie want to keep me away from he warm trail, because I might bother lim? If that trail led to Leonore I was glad o be kept away, for I could not have a villing hand in dragging her before the :urious public as a criminal. On tbe other hand, did Abner Ketcham >elieve there was a slight possibility of .he truth being other than It now seemed, md that he wished me to be working his up while he was busy elsewhere? This might be so. I hoped it was the truth. Well, I had seen Theodore, and learned l11 there was to discover. atPJ?t_hi.m,_y.et Vfi\ Ivetcham 3id not~S6om"to"de7T6ve mm n any way the guilty party. Ah! a thought flashed across my brain. Theodore was Leonore's husband, mnished from his father's home. What f, after all, he proved to be the man vho had entered the house by the pantry vindow?could it be possible that he vould seek her room and secure the cnife, afterward wiping it upon one of icr dainty handkerchiefs, and secreting he same in her room, where a search rould reveal it? For what should he do this?to cast uspicion upon her? Perish the thoaght. I had seen enough if the man to believe him incapable of his. Why, he had even declared that he rould suffer any torture rather than tell rhat he had seen when he looked in ai he window. This might be a cunning trick, but I rvnl/1 nnt Virinff rnwaAlf t.n hfillfiVfi it. VUJVi UVW W* '"p ? - ? I turned to Mr. Ketcham again. "Since you wish it, sir, I will continue ay investigations outside, leaving this aside mystery to you. It is more omental to you than it would ever be o me." He smiled peculiarly, but made no omment on my words. "See here, Doctor, when you examined his blade before, you missed something. ?hat little speck up near the hafjt is ried blood. I have examined it throhgh microscope." "Then it seems settled that Dr. Seaury was killed by this blade?" "I shall have that settled in a few ours. I am to bring to a celebrated hemist this blood-stained handkerchief nd that portion of the old Doctor's ight-robe where you found the little Dund, red mark, just over the wound. "The chemist will be able to tell me rhether the blood of the same person larks both. "You know science is making great trides, and they say that a minute- exmination shows that it is about as imossible to find a strict resemblance in tie blood of two persons as it is in their ices. The presence of bacteria, or some uch minute animalcule, determines the uestion." "I understand that, sir. .You can eadily ascertain your point In my pinion it will prove that tho blood is the a,me. What I want to know is: did <eonore do this deed, or was it done by )me one elso who entered the houss ke a burglar, and to hide his crime took Ms knife, replacing,it again, .and even sing a handkorchief belonging to the irl to wine off. the few drops of blood umainlng on the blade." "Doctor, you have the case in a nutaell. That is exactly how it stands ow." "Well, sir, what do you wish me to o?" '"Nothing against your will." "Mr. Ketcham, you must not under tand the case in that way. I am eager > work in any direction save one." "And that I have not asked you to rork upon, Doctor." "I know it." "There is one thing which as yet has ot been followed up." "The burglar?" "Yes; the man who entered at the panry window. Who was he?what did he ame for?what did he do and see, and 'hy did he leave without stealing a tiing, when the whole house was spread pen before? "These are pertinent questions which tay have a decidcd bearing on the case, ask you to take them up, feeling sure iat if you carry the idea out as you did ie other trail leading to Theodore, it rill only be a question of a short time efore the truth in that quarter is nown." His words were uttered in a calm, arnest tone, and he took my hand as if ) assure as that he did not mean to atter. That settled it with me. I would do mch ior Mr. Ketcham. He was a maD j win one's earnest admiration and deotion. I was anxious to get off. "Hold on a minute, Doctor," he said, lughing, as I was about bidding him ood day, "perhaps I can help you a little1 this matter." I jumped at this offer. "You will oblige me very much, sir, by oing such a thing," I replied. "Sit down again. Now, I have examled the work at the pantry window, and should say it was done by an expert. "Perhaps you may not know that these rst-class cracksmen have each a peuliarway of running things, but It is a let. "More than once I have been able to all at a glance whose hand had done a ertain job just from the manner in fhich the fellow had gone to work to vercome certain difficulties in his way. "My first thought, then, was to look or some such private mark that would etray t)*? fellow's identity. "Certain things gave me what I was isposed to believe was a clue, and I felt lmost ready to swear that the man who ad entered the pantry window was no ther than an expert cracksman known D the fraternity under the name of Oloncl Cain. "Now, my idea is that you hunt up this lan, get in with him by pretending to be f his ilk, and gradually worm your way ato his confidence, when, the conditions eing favorable, you can get at his se* ret" "You do not approve, then, of hurling he truth at him and making him coness?"" "That would all depend upon circumtances, Doctor. You might find a beter opportunity to work that way than ,ny other." "To take it literally, then, I am to use ay own discretion in the matter?" "Certainly." "Now, since that point is settled, Mr. vetcbam, what assistance can you give do in looking this man up?" "I can be of some help to you there, doctor;" and as he spoke he drew a large >ook toward mm. As he opened it I saw that it was a private rogues' gallery. Scores on scores of Dictures were here," each"secured in fts place Gy a little lasp, and under all of them were from >ne to twenty lines of writing, telling vho the parly was, what they were vanted for, and full particulars, includng the reward offered for their apprelotislon?a very important fact with deectives. Turning over the leaves lightly, he at ength stopped and held the book out to nf I saw the face of a man who might lavo attracted attention anywhere. The features were 6trong, but a praciced eye could read the marks both of lissipation and free license to criminal iractice. There was a cunning iook ibout tho eye too that declared the mau o be one whom tho ordinary police fquid ever fee Raffled by. h ^ UnOerrieaTE x reaJTa few lines?It waa the rogne's biography. "Coionel Cain?real name unknown, but supposed to come of good family over in London. Fled from London for large embezzlement, defying extradition. Now an expert cracksman. Believed to be concerned In the Fairley case, the Judge robbery, the Manhattan Bank affair, the Cope burglary and many others. Age about forty. Well educated. Inclined to be social and might be reached that way, if needed." That was all. I understood the concluding words to mean that as yet there was no reward offered for this man, the officials had not been able to connect him closely with any of the crimes of the past. While I was reading this the detective had taken the photograph out. "Keep it while you are at work. A look now and then may be of benefit in determining whether you have struck the right man or not." "Thank you, Mr. Ketcham, I shall do as you sav. Have you any idea, where I shall Be likely to run across CETsTalEer slippery gentleman?" "Yes, I can tell you even that" ?? J - J A- ?: ?? 116 proceeuuu vu girv uikj iuouj utuuuo In a manner that forced them upon my mind so that I could not forget. When this had been done I knew there was nothing more for me to do except wait for night to come, when I might begin my work. Then my thoughts turned to my office. So interested bad I been in this wonderful case that I had neglected my regular business shamefully. There were still a few hours left, and by working like a Trojan I might manage to get through. I arose to take my leave. Before bidding Mr. Ketcham good day I laid one hand gently upon his shoulder and said with vehemence: MI am going to run this murderer to earth if I perish for it" He seemed pleased at the earnest determination which my words and manner betokened, and bade me God speed in my self-imposed task. 60 I bade Mr. Ketcham good day and turned to mv office. There were a few calls which needed my attention, besides those on my regular list. I called for :my buggy and started forth to my work, apologizing to those who had grown weary waiting for me, that I had been engaged on a case of life and death. With this they had to be satisfied. By the time twilight had settled down I over the great city I had gotten through with my work and was ready to take up the trail of crime once more. I had never believed that I would make anything of a good detective, nor had I believed that I would ever have a fancy for the work, but the fascina tion of the work was something astonishing. Now that I had become all worked up in the case, I would not have given it over for a good deal. When I had finished eating my supper I prepared for the work on hand. It was a singular piece of business for a physician in good standing to enter upon. I might have to pass through all manner of ugly places, and enter the haunts of crime before I could accomplish my object My mind was made up, however, and it must be more than this that could keep me from carrying it out Thoughts of Lconore urged me on. If there was a chance of saving her, I would take heavy risks to accomplish it So, shortly after darkness fell upon the city of New York, I left my office and began to makt> my way down to the artery of the city- the Bowery. Ito be continued.] WORDS OF WISDOM. Million* won't cure sore toes. We are going on from grace to grace to perfection. The world is much misled by some of its best maxims. To be avoided?professing cream and living sour milk. Wall street has not enough space to bury its suicides. We have the record of many a good rich man on eaith. Every man laughs when he wins and? swears when he loses. f How long will this metallic sentiment crush out all manly feeling? As long as a good man is good he will be continually growing better. Some people are afraid to become good for fear their joys will all be lost. I Beware of the man who pats his pocI ket above country and his party above conscience. Make it a constant habit to be kind to everybody, and you will do more good than if you went about scattering money. No man ever meets with shipwreck because he finds out that he is weak, but thousands are lost because they feel that they are strong. How many a man has lied to save appearances, especially to his wife, when he might have told the truth and gone about his business. Worldly men are like sour apples. Outwardly they present a fair appearance, but the nearer the core you get the more acrid the flavor. Loug Hides in Australia. In Australia, where population is sparce and distances are great, some re* markable feats of endurance in horseriding are credited to the mounted police?feats more remarkable in some instances, taking into account all the circumstances, than those accomplished by the winnners in the military ride between Vienna and Berlin. * Trooper Power in February, 1880, undertook an arduous journey across most inhospitable country in pursuit of a horse-stealer named John Smith. This zealous officer traveled 766 miles in twenty-six day9 withDUt changing horses. For one stage of eighty mile3 he was wholly without water, and the country was in such a bad state tor 130 miles that his two horses had nothing to eat. His powers of en durance may be judged from the statement that he did thirty miles a day on worn-out horses, along long dry stages and with bad water or no water at all to crink. Trooper Wiltshire on another occasion rode eighty-five miles in twenty hours on one horse. This was ou May 28, 1887, two days after the natives had "stuck up" Eriduna Station. This same man triveled 200 miles in four days when he heard that a comrade named Shirley had died of thirst. He did not have macadamized roads and plenty of fresh water, like the German officers, but he had a broiling sun to endure, sand hills to climb, "mulga" scrub to penetrate, and was sometimes compelled to take dead animals out of native wells before he could use the water.?London News. THE FIRE HORSE. HOW THE BIO BONED BRUTE I TRAINED FOR HIS DUTIE8. A Long and Careful Education?It 1 Too Much lor Some Animals, While Others Learn With Eagerness?At the Stables. QTANDING in froi * of one of the uj town hotels a fe A, nights ago t h ^ clang of the fire ei 01 r08e the rattle of ti rTjuNSi ears, and leaving w&JlrSmAMffl?} track of fivin sparks a big thre< horee engine can racing down Broadway. It was a thrilling sight as the greai bony animalB, that look so massive whe quiet, galloped with the ease and grac of cats. They seemed to be crazed wit the noise and clatter,' and though tb driver, with muscular arms bared to tb TflS BSCS elbow, seemed trying to restrain them, could see as they dashed by that he wa really leaving tbe big brutes to their owi volition. The shrill steam whistle am the clatter of the horses' great feet coul< be heard a quarter of a mile away. It was a perfect picture of runaway but when the fire plug was reached ther was a shout heard above the noise, an< the intelligent animals braced their for feet and slid along some distance in thei quick effort to stop short at the word o command. They were perfectly trainei and absolutely under the control of th i EXAMINING A NEW ARRIVAL. driver. But what t? transformationone minute springing out with all th power in their great bodies, and thi next quietly submitting to the affection ate petting of the driver. The public' unite in praising thi efficiency of the Fire Department of Nev York, but rarely think of the part dumb brutes play in fire fighting. The horse* added to the department every year go through as severe a training as the firemen to learn how to handle the hose anc scaling ladder. Chief Hugh Bonnei pays especial attention to this work, ant has detailed the best man in the depart ment to the training stables on Wes Ninety-ninth street. The building, horses and training ar all under the care of a foreman, who i also a veterinary surgeon and a man o wonderful parrience. The commission era allow $300 for the purchase of eacl horse, and they are bougnt irom du bunches of Western animals down i Bull's Head market. About fifty new horses are bough every every year to keep up the 80( constantly needed in active service. Thi most desirable horse is one that is block] in proportion to his size, with gooc strong feet and flat legs with sinews wel apart. Most of the horses now in thi department are Clydesdale grades, anc the Clydesdale horse is a native of Scot land, the caony Scot showing here as ii everything else that be knows a gooc thing. The Clydesdale has peculiarly good feet, this being a prime requisite ii an engine horse. The Dew houses are generally sent uj to the training stables five or six at t time, and are put iuto good, big room] box stalls, whose doors and sides indi cate that more than one foot has beei THE FIRST TJ stopped by the strong partitions. 4 'Kick Well, yes," replied one of the stablemei to my question. "Some of them don' seem to do anything but kick." A green horse goes absolutely craz, when he first hears the fire gong. He i generally only partly broken to harness and everything in the city, coming fresl from the farm as he does, is new am terrifyincr. Every alarm from the But tery to Harlem is sounded on the bi: grag attached to the walls, and many o the horses never get accustomed to th sound of it. These, of course, arc in stantly rejected. Others kick, rear am prance, but by and by settle dowi enough for their first lesson. A oart of the floor is partitioned oi for a hose carriage, with the harncs ready for buckling on, suspended as i ie in every engine house. As soon a the horses show no fear of the gong, the are led out, two at a time under th harness. Others, after being allowed to smell of the leather, and seeing that there is nothing to harm them, stand g very calmly. It does not take long for the horse to learn that the sound of the gong means his moving, and some of quick intelligence in a few days learn to jump from their stalls without telling. For the first few days leading the two green horses to the tender is all that is attempted. There is no shouting or hauling the horses about. They hare jt time to find out things are not going to hurt them and then they are encouraged w to put their heads under the collars of e their own accord. >. This is practiced over an over again e until the start at the sound of the gong te becomes second nature. Then comes a the most difficult work. The harness is g buckled on and the horses are started j- out of the stable on a wain. They ie must, of course, get accustomed to the rattle of the engine behind them, but it t, is quite slow work until they grow to n know the tender; then they are trotted :e out, and finally let out at lull speed, h When a horse has reached this point te in his education he is ready to go e out to one of the fire stations. There IYH7G 8TASL1S. IJ the firemen take the greatest pride in s helping a new horse to learn his duties, a Here the horses are taught the value of 3 time, or one would think so, the way i they get around in their stalls. Electric buttons release their halters, and by the , time the firemen unbuckle the harness e from the overhead checks the horses are a there to receive it. Not a second is lost e and the horses show as great an eagerr ness as human beings in getting to the , f fire.?New York Recorder. i ? e The America's Cup. With a new challenge for the America's Gup the interest in international yachting regains life all over the world. It is to international yachting that Yachting in its higher form must look for the perpetuation of a healthy and vigorous life always. There are several trophies now offered for competition by yachting lovers of different Nations. First and foremost of these is alwayB and ever the America's Cup, the If'blue ribbon of the seas." This is an ugly piece of silverware offered by the Royal Yacht Squadron in August, 1851, in order to make a race for the American schooner yacht America,which was debarred from - sailing for the Queen's Cup by the rules e . I.. AMERICA'S CUP. 9 , 1 of the club. It was won by the Ameri ca and offered as a perpetual challenge i cup for friendlv competition by the 1 yachts of the world. No Nations exJ cept England and Canada have chali leDged for it. England challenged in 1870, 1871, 1885, 1886 ana 1887. ) Canada challenged in 1876 and 1881. i The foreign yachts which have striven 7 for the cup are Cambria, Livonia, Coun tess of Dufferln. Atlanta, Genesta, Gai latea and Thistle. The American yachtg ME IN HARNESS. ? which have successfully defended the a cup are the Magic, Columbia, Sappho, t Madeline, Mischief, Puritan, Mayflower | atia voiunieej. me ^/Uiummn auu 9 Sappho both sailed against the Livonia. s ? Shooting Come3 by Nature. J Miss Johanna Remington shot a hawk 3 which measured nearly live feet from * tip to tip a few days ago at Stonington. s The bird of prey had seized agood sized f pullet, and was starting off with the . e fowl when brought down at a distance * of forty yards. Miss Remington had 1 fired a gun but once before, and then Q she killed a lot of blackbirds in a flock she fired into.?Providence (R. I.) Jour5 nal. s mm t San Francisco is led to believe that is Mrs. Hearst, widow of the millionaire y Senator from California, will leave it e $1,000,000 for a great museum. ' V . i'Vn&j& r-. _????? '' .4 Curious South Sea Amor. The Academy of Science, says the Self Francisco Chronicle, has added to the treasures of the museum a complete suit! of ancient armor from the Gilbert Isl* ands. Also, some odd pieces of warlike paraphernalia used or worn by the dnsk^j warriors. All of these articles are be-; lieved to be at least a hundred.years old. The coat of mail and helmet, all Iti? one piece, looks, when off the wearer^ like a big wicker chair. When on, the} back of the chair apparently rues above! J the wearer's head, which passes upj through the seat of the chair. The low] :arms, which are really straps, pass over his shoulders. The solid portion of tbej lower pait is the corselet, fastening , around the body. This carious garment is made of oo?r coanut fibre, twisted around and around! over thick cords, making a dense fabric' ^ stiff and stout as board. In color it resembles unbleached linen. The material is woven by hand, after which it is embroidered in regular pattern suggesting grotesque human figures. This carious needlework is executed with curds made! of twisted human hair. . j ^ With the singular costume just de-x scribed are won a yoke and pair o? sleeves, also in one piece. Also, a pais , | of leggings with a snort skirt at the top* The skirt, leggings, sleeves and yoke are made of brown cocoanut fibre, braid-j ed and knotted, until it looks very much) like the common cocoa matting. The thickness of these garments is something) surprising. It would seem that arrows or spears could not penetrete this fabricJ The coat of mail keeps all the portions; of the costume in place. The chair-like projection above the head is intended to ward off arrows. I The work of making {his coatumtf must hate been incredibly tedious, jndg^ , /ingby the fineness and regularity of twistJ stitch, strand and mesh. No doubt thic outfit of a heathen warrior repcesents tboj labor of years and the slavery of women* Possibly, carnage in addition, as thcj hair used may have been taken front slain captives. _ With the suit of armor are two spears^ one eleven feet in length, the other four-j f 3 teen. They are long, pointed sticks ot cocoanut wood/ armed with shark's) GILBERT MLASD ARM03. teeth. The teeth are polished until tfiej; are smooth and white as ivory. Each ; itooth is knotted to the wood by a cord' made of human hair, passing through a' !hole drilled in the tooth and another jdrilled in the wood. The shorter spear J !has ninety-eight teeth, the longer 100. < About the middle of each stick acuri-) ous piece of skin is fastened to the "wood. The skin is a? thick as the; Stoutest leather and covered with sharp,] white tooth-like projections. No one connected with the academy knows what' the skin is, as nothing like it has ever been seen here before. The exhibit is accompanied by a broad, curving band of tfie* same skin, but whether it is in-J tended as an armor plate or not nobody) seems to know. A Beiuarkable Fair of Horns. Albert Friedrich, of San Antonio,\ Texas, is the proud owner of what is; considered to be the most remarkable: 'pair of antlers. They have seventy-eight points. ? , The curator of the Smithsonian Institution says that in the number of points* it far exceeds any other specimen of which he has knowledge.?St. Louis Republic. t "Boy Wauted Iuolde." ^ ?Truth. .