The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, November 22, 1893, Image 6
m ,
WHAT ANSWER?
ST 1H18. J. V. H. KOONS.
Adown thro' the age* oomos sounding the cry,
The question unanswered that "If a man die
Shall he live again T Who can tell ? Who can
tell?
We know not, hope only that all will be well
11 back to its elements passes the clay
That shelters the spirit for only a day,
Why may not the soul, as the body, return
To Its elements tooV But what do we loarn
By questioning over and looking thro' tears
To a past full of idols and blood-embalmed
years?
Though sweet lines of poesy run here and there,
Like sunbeams of gold, tbro' a cold, leaden air;
Though eweet, mournful music from days that
are dead
Still fall on the ear. healing hearts that have
bled? ^ ^
T&CUgU 'tis Sweet tO DeilCYS in ice jogenuo Vi
old,
To see trees of life bend with apples of gold,
To baek in the tropicB 'neatli olive and palm
Where the kind words of Jesus, to the 'world,
fell like halm.
Though sweet to the heart are the dreams of
our youth,
The present is with us, fall of stern, arctic '
truth,
Full of now revelations for each new-born day,
Ami teacher and learner must both work and
pray
For sew light and more light?onoo candles
would do?
And truths then discovered 'will ever be true.
gut the error must perish, thus eaycth the
.. Lord;
W>ongl> keen pangs are suffered in severing the
cord.
* "The ethics of Jesus, broad, Boon narrowed
down
To village theologies." Christian and clown,
a/1 T?ara of miacecenation ant
night,
Have loosened their hold on the anchor of right
Have traildod a babel from whoso crumbling
tower
Bholl be to humanity given new power,
And men shall go forth and shall labor alone,
Asd bread shall be given instead of a stone.
God's truth in the heart made alive the:
shall be
fYom doctrines and dogmas the world shall b<
free
To do-right and live right the soul's highes
good,
By their fruits shall ke know them," thlB grand
t brotherhood,
Who work In God's vineyard with hope fixed
above,
To Hftn alone lookirg for life thro' H1b love.
JSuncie, Ind.
doeb?m
A Story of Early Colonial
Days.
BY CHARLES C. HAHN.
CHAPTER XII.
A WILD, WET NIGHT.
HE harsh sentence
was car^
HSBil |%1 rie(* outl at once?
<j2 1 and the poor
young woman
ft
? 7a J " ^ ^ ^ decidod Egbert
if VV./fu' / t0 remove from
/j >v " " Sagnauck?
either lo some other place in the colony
or to his home in old England. The latter
place was chosen for him within a
ftfw days by ar. unexpected letter from
his father. Egbert's cider brother had
" been killed while hunting, and the
father wrote to recall the younger sen,
who would now be the next Lord of
Oswold.
But before Egbert Ingram could arrange
to leave Sagnauck other events
wero shaping themselves to keep him
longer in the place of his wife's persecution.
Tho inhuman sentence of the
Puritan judges had brought on a low
/ever, and before a week hau passed
Dorothea Ingram was insane. Her insanity
was of a mild form, and the
vagaries which filled her mind were of
the most eluslye kind.
' Some days dark ghostly clouds swept
over her and in the wall of darkness
around, queer forms intermingled with
each other, fantastic shapes, distorted
/aces of m$n and women. These would
appear and fado and others come. At
limes some woodland scene would* appear
as plain as if she were looking out of her
cabin window at the forests which surrounded
her home; the waves of the
Dccan'beat in her imagination and tall"
towering to'lf themselves and
"disappeared before Lei- eyes'. * *
Kut at all times a light cloud seemed
to Coat before her eyes, a cloud which
xvnu avov <rvir>f t.n Tifi'PtvfltP and
w^s po thTrl iiial she was ever in
' uopes of finding what was behind H.
Sometimes the cloud passed away and
then soijic other objcct appeared. Now
Jt was Egbert, nofs- the minister, and
sometimes Mark Hillary. At length the
beclouded intellect was able to understand
what the object of its desire was.
Hidden by cloud or by the perplexing appearance
of other forms v/as the figure
of her mother, whom sho could not remember
but whose portrait she had worn
on her breast all her lifo.
v Cnco did she see the vision, through
clouds and darknoss, and the gentle influenco
of hor 3pirit mother brought a
soothing peace, and Dorothea sank Into
an untroubled, childish sloop. After that,
although the filmy mist hung over her
still, the vision never entirely faded.
SliO felt that the fair form was hovering
over her and the consciousness brought
her rest.
Daring Dorothea's illness", her husband
never left tho cabin, ami yet the two
wero never in need. Every morning,
when ho are*e, Egbert found by his
cabin door soma article of game, a fish
from the river, or a piece of venison.
This soon became known to the busy
gossips of the \11lagtf, and every effort
was made to learn from what source he
received thorn. Kaiiing in this ihey, fell
back upon the old theory that Dorothea
was beiug protected by that unknown
l?er?on to whom the minister hud referred
an the day of the trial.
Mr. Granville wu not flow to hear
tho*e tales. In fact he took rains to inquire
daily concerning tt:c young couple,
&nd stored away every possible story or
theory as more evidence against the poor
woman. Every incident in Dorothea's
? .? r? * *
lire wa* now a m?mt; m;- auijuvwi i
him. IIo remembered when she had |
given way to anger and knew now that
ehe had boon under the Influence of the
devil; her friend* had been won by evil
chara?; her insanity w?s the working of
ciovlis in h?r nr:.d and the food with
which she w*s Ted came from her
Mwtcr. ?
About this t'mc- Mr. Gr?nvil!e received
uiedlcii advice concernii.y his children,
and was bidden t? lx.ke ibem for iong
iralKs !n the open air. He followed the
physician's advice conscientiously, but
he had become such a monomaniac tbat
each walk always led bin; and his two
daughters by Dorothea's home. One
day, as they, were passing, they heard a
faint cry within the c&'cnn, a cry so faint
&nd yet so peculiar tbat the three
stopped, and Achsah said:
"Papa, did you hear the kitty?"
The father looked at his daughter, and
seeing in her face the signs of "her peculiar
nervous fits, turned and hastened
home with her. All day Jong she lay
prostrate upon her couch, the minister
kneeling by her side and praying.
When it became known that a child
had been born to Egbert and Dorothea.
iSnfih-i ... \ | .
the minister lost no time in relating Ih
circumstances of Achsah's illness, an
before evening all the gossips in the vil
lage had made excuses to call upon th
young mother and see the baby that cri&
like a cat. Children came to the win
low, looked in and then ran away a
from a haunted place.
After a few davs Dorothea's insanit:
returned, and it was thought; best to re
.-novo the child from her. A mont]
passed, during which she lay upon he
bed, uttering the vagaries which came t
her beclouded mind. At last her memor;
and her reason returned, and she askei
for her babe as if it had been absent bu
an hour. This was toward evening
and, after receiving the child into he
arms, she lay for an hour in deep silence
as if absorbed in thought; but not a mo
tion was made she did not see, and a
times, when the babe gave utterance t
x low cry, the mother would raise her
self upon her elbow and gazo upon i
with painful intensity. She refuse*
all offers of food, and now and then, a
the twilight deepened, hummed a drows;
tune in the babe's ears or whispered t
it in sweet"and soothing words.
After a time the babe fell asleep an<
Egbert sat down by the open door. Thi
twilight passed into evening. The win<
began to moan dismally through the for
est, and the rain began to patter on th<
cabin roof.
The moaning changed to wailing an<
then to roaring, and tho wind swept th<
increasing rain against the window
The day was done and a wet, wild nigh
had set in. Egbert sat for a while an<
listened to the dreary music, then barre<
the door, and leaning back in his chair
fell asleep.
The brief period of Dorothea's sanit]
| had passed away and the cloud upon hei
mind began to settle with the falling o
the night. The roaring wind, the sweep
ing rain, .the beating upon the roof ant
the child at her side, became, all alike
creatures of her imagination. Lookinj
upward, through the mist, she saw hei
mother and was a child again herself.
The sound of the wind and the rair
passed away; oui, as sno gazeu, m?
vision faded and, instead of the peace
brooding form of her mother
appeared the child, which to he:
distorted imagination, seemed t<
rise, as did those other phantom:
months before, merely to hide from hei
the one face she wished to see. Sht
changed her position on the bed, but th<
infant still appeared. She tried tc
brush away the face with her hand, bul
could not reach it.
She could now hear the roaring of th(
wind again and see the warring branches
of the trees outside the cabin window.
The wind and the rain and the tree:
spoke to her. They were real. The]
would help her. Had not all her lift
been passed in intercourse with them,
and had not her father taught her theii
secrets?
All else were mere phantoms. She
was a child again, and this was hei
father's cabin! What was that strange
man doing in the great chair by the
table, and whose was this babe which
was lying by her side? Her past life
was almost wholly a blank, but a blank
blotted by the faint recollection of a lifelong
persecution. What could the child
be but some evil sprite left to worry her?
And the wind and tho rain told her tc
kill it.
Once more she looked upward, but
could see nothing but a baby face above
her in the mist. She turned her head
upon the pillow and saw the little sleeper
by her side. She watched it for a moment
and then, as a serpent creeps
through the bushes in search of its prey,
she passed her hand slowly over the
child. As she did so, the wind seemed to
die away and the rain ceased to fall upon
the roof.
Sne paused, and a low moan came
through tho tree-tops in the forest. It
came like a moan from that blot in her
nast life, a moan erief-burdened and
growing faint with despair. 4
It strengthened her purpose and she
touched the baby hand. It clasped her
fingers convulsively, which caused her to
look Intently lyxm th? little face. It
was the same wnicn, a few moments before
had appeared in the mist above Ler.
Still, with a faint dawning of Intelligence,
and perhaps of maternal feeling,
6hc paused to wonder if it might not be
a real child. ' But at that moment the
babe awakened and gave a faint cry
which, even to the mother, seemed like
the cry of a cat.
There was no more doubt! The child
belonged to the evil one who was still
pursuing her.
A frcsli gust of wind came up with its
long sough gathered from the depth of
the woods, and her brain was influenced
by it. Again hei* hand, which had been
withdrawn when the baby's finger's
clutched it, was stretched out and this
timo touched the infant's head. Her
? o wnrrt Vmrnirur wit.h <>rcitement. but
with uprvcs stcacly and hand nrra as
Iron, sho passed Kcr fingers down the
little sleeper's face to its throat and felt
thQ warm beating from its hearty
Ah! a fino wild night It and tho
wind cainc roaring and wailing through
the dashing rain, and beneath the dark
storm cloud. A roll of thunder and out
in the forest'a tree had been shivered
with the lightning's stroke! A hush for
an instant and then the storm bioke
forth afresh. The hand was resting on
tho infant's throat. Tho fingers
closed. No gaspl No sound! But the
little hands tugged at the great one
which was taking its J^fe away! The
baby breast heaved witu quick throes
and the legs were drawn up convulsively.
The struggle ceased, and the soft
baby eves slowly deadened into a senseless
gaze.
That instant another roll of thunder
nocsorf nvcr head, tho whole villaee was
illuminated by the flash of lightning and
a holt from heaven struck tho minister's
house.
Then the peal rambled on among the
clouds until it died away in the distance.
As if satisfied with tho work that had
been dyne, the wind died away and the
rain ceased falling. Dorothea Ingrare
took it as an intimation that she hac
conquered, and fell asleep.
A lonely wanderer seeking the village
and approaching Hillary's cabin just a<
that time, said next morning that it wa.'
surrounded by a halo of fire and that h<
saw Btrange-lookinR devils In the light
CHAPTER XIII.
TIIE HOUSE 6TRCCK nY LIGHTNING.
In the last chapter mention was mad<
of a belated traveler who, approaching
the village through the woods, saw th<
Hillary cabin surrounded by unholj
light, and also saw in the light a wall o
demons dancing around it. They wen
of fantastic shape, and yet here and then
were voluptuous limbs which would havi
been a temptation for St. Anthony. Ap
pearing here and there like an oft-recur
ring thread in a loom, appeared a round
ed arm or a delicatcly curved leg, th<
shadow of the outline of a woman'!
breast and above in the darkness i
woman's face. These would pass in ;
circle around the cabin, ana In tliei
place would appear tho shriveled form
ol nags, ana uiu jiuhuisu iu>vcs vj uumnu
All wore themselves into a supple danc<
in which voluptuous forms and dcvilisl
shapes were curiously intermingled. I
was a veritable dance of the evil on
and his victims. The sight struck th
traveler with awe, and lie stopped be
neath an elm treo which grew by th
brook to watch it. For a full minut
the light lasted and then the strange
continued his journey.
Just as he approached the cabin h
heard a roll of thunder and saw a Has
o of lightning. As ne emerged rrom tn
d forest and wended bis way down tL
I- village street he saw that a house at tfc
e other ond was ablazo with fire. With
d cry of "fire" he sprang forward and ra
- with all speed to the burning house. Th
s villagers, awaKenea Dy tne cry, jch inei
comfortable beds and followed. Tli
y house to which their steps were dlrecte
> was the parsonage, and it had bee
ti struck by lightning.
r When the stranger arrived he foun
0 that the minister and his family ha
y rushed from their burning heme, an
1 that the former was already busy savin
t the most valuable of his possessions
, The wifo with her two children stoo
r 6hivering beneath a tree, from whic
i, great drops of water fell now and then
- gazing with agonizing looks upon thci
t home, but seemingly unable to lend
0 helping hand.
Even in his haste to reach and assis
t the minister, who was making quid
1 visits to the house, tho stranger noticei
9 that the mother pressed one child mor
y closely to her side than the other. I
a was Achsah, who had been torn fron
| her bed where she had been sufferini
i from her nervousness, but now not i
b trace of her disorder appeared. Shi
1 looked like one just brought back to life
- There were truces of ill-health in he
i face, but her countenance had under
gone a change. The old querulous lool
3 had disappeared and in Its place a lool
a or returning health had come. He
recent illness had been cured in an in
J. stant, and she stood beneath the drippini
J* tree stronger than she had been fo
3 years.
> Either by the flash of lightning or b;
the tragedy in the cabin in the woods
P she had been cured, and, strange as i
J was, her attacks never occurred again.
' For an hour the pioneers workei
" dragging out the minister's furniture
' and then stood around while the las
? beams of the unhappy home fell into th<
? coals below and were consumed. Da;
r had not yet begun to break when tin
homeless family was taken to neighbor
1 inc houses and the village returned t<
J their beds. In the confusion the Strang
er was not noticed, and none missed hin
? when he disappeared from the crowd,
j CHAPTER XIV.
? THE FINGER OF GOD.
When the first rays of morning ligh
j broke through the forest, which circlet
, around Sagnauck, the next morning
\ they sent dim lines of light between th<
trunks of trees along the water-soakc<
ground. Little grass grew in those darl
} depths; only here and there a fring<
s about a tree or a cluster midway be
tween, where the sun shone. But th<
j dark earth was rich, and here and then
r a sky-tinted flower grew, with deeper
, colors and more delicate tints than those
which bloomed beneath the sun.
[ The rays of light which were grad'
ually penetrating the forest from th(
eastward, and casi.ing faint shadows or
; each side, were here and there obstructed
by fallen trees which broke the lighl
1 and cast shapeless shadows in its path1
way. At first, and this was not long
1 after Dorothea ' had strangled hei
' babe, the rays of light which were going
straight upward for the sun beneath the
' eastern horizon merely made gray the
; darkness between and beneath the great
trees. Gradually the light increased and
1 gray paths grew between the trees, bordered
by shadows on either side. The
1 sun rose higher and the brook was enlivened
by its rays, and danced in morning
glee. How gayly the water dashed
over an obtruding stone and how merrily
it rushed around an obstructing
bank. The birds, too, wofe waking up
and rendering distant chirps through the
woods. For, was not the whole world
merry again? The sun had risen, and
the brook and the birds were free.
The light shining through the woods
was broad at the entrance, but gradually
tapered to a point like a great white finger
stretching alorg the ground. It was
like the finger of God pointing from the
line between heaven and earth, through
the woods to Sagnauck.
In Hillary's cabin there was a finger of
liwht. tnr> Tho hahv finfrore u-prp still
| wvw> w " ? ?^ ""O*"" ** ?"
| and stiff, and the cruel hand which had
stiljp^ them was at rest in sleep. Egbert,
too, was still sleeping in his chair
by the table when the rising sun sent its
ray6 through the forest.
Whose finger was it that was pointing?
Through the cabin window came tho
first faint rays of the morning. A light
the breadth of tho window fell upon tho
sill and cast a faint gleam upon the floor.
The sleepers slept on. Slowly the light
grew stronger and crept across the floor.
Inch by inch it moved; until it had
reached the floor beneath the bed upon
which Dorothea and the dead babe lay.
A pause. Then a faint light touched tho
bed. Good God! What does it mean?
Gradually but surely the light grew
stronger, and as it did so the finger rose
inch by inch upon the bed and pointed
across th.e coarse counterpane to where
tlTg dead babe lay. . ^ ?
The Stfri was risen. The day had
come, and the long white finger of God
was pointing directly through the cabin
window to the bed, and the tip of the finger
rested on the throat of the murdered
child.
When Egbert awoke, the sun was
shining brightly in at the cabin window
and the finger had been absorbed into
tho broad light of day. He arose and
glanced around the .room, sleepily.
' Dorothea was lying ouietly upon the
bed: but the child attracted his attention.
Its neck was stretched out upon
1 the pillow, long and lank. It required
only a glance for Ingram to understand
what had been done.
"O, Dorothea! 0, God!" he cried,
"what shall I do? 0, Dorothea, Dorothea,
what have you done?"
While Egbert was still bending over
the dead babe, a neighbor knocked at
the door. Ho hesitated for a moment
and then opened it. The visitor was a
woman who lived next to them and who
1 had come at break of day to tell them ol
I the minister's misfortune and to offei
her service to Dorothea. But no sooner
! had she looked in at tho open door and
[ seen the dead babe on the pillows than
6he turned and ran toward the village,
crying, "Murder! Murder!"
The sun was now shininc bright and
clear about the cabin. The storm was
' over, and a newj day had arisen upoc
! Sagnauck.
Tho woman ran the whole length oi
the village street, and her cry was hearc
in every home. At tho sound, men anc
> women hastened from their brief sleep
> and ran toward Hillary's cabin, to whict
j she pointed them. It needed no words
for them to believe that there was somt
[ sad mystery there. On they went, dowr
3 the woodland path, one by one, without
j ceremony and entered the room. Withir
> | half an hour it was filled with friend!
- | and foes.
Prominent amonp 11 ic latter was tin
minister, who anxiously moved about ant
J tried, with his authority, to quell the ex
5 citement. By his side was the constablt
1 and after it was evident to all that :
1 murder had been committed, the tw<
r busied themselves opening drawers, pry
s ing into nooks and eorners, "lifting !oos<
planks from the floor and making in
^ quiries of others. It was a godsend t<
'' the minister. Heaven, in his belief, hac
1 sent relief.
e During all this tumult Dorothea sa
e upon the bed looking wildly about
Through the cabin door, now wide open
e in the morning light, she could see oth
e ers coming, men, women and children
r walking, shouting, pointing toward th<
open door. Rude men gathered abou
? ln-r bed and asked harsh questions
? while half-drcsged T^omcn cxcitedly criei
I
n I .,vnf t.hp Uttlo hodv which, a JayTjefore,
ic .hey had said looked like a cat. At
ic ength the minister drew near tho bed
a md said:
n "I tell you tho day of vengeanae has
c ome. The persecutor of my children
ir has been pointed out to you. I have ac0
;used Dorothea Ingrain of witchcraft,
d ind to this sic another has been added,
n She has murdered her babe. Last night
my house was struck by lightning, and I
d believe it was at the same hour in which
d this crime was committed."
d The wanderer in the forest, who, ung
ibservcd, had entered tho cabin, spoke
;. up and said:
d "Reverend sir, it was at the sam?
h hour."
CHAPTEIt XV.
1 THE TRIAL OIT A WITCH.
a The little body of the murdered baoo
rone huripd in n. hollow near Dorothea's
j. home, and within throe days tho nnhapj
py woman was taken to Salom by armed
guard, there to answer the double charge
t of murder and witchcraft. For the crimo
j which she had committed was so terrible
y that not one person in Sagnauck, savo
j her husband and her adopted parents,
8 now entertained a doubt of her guilt.
When the little party arrived in Salem
r Dorothea was at once consigned to jail,
. and when once there, her condition be{
came so precarious that it was feared
{ she would never leave it even to answer
. to the double charge against her.
Mr. Granville, unmindful of the fact
that she might be summoned to a higher
- bar of justice, devoted his time to a caroful
arrangement of his evidence against
her.
' The witch fever was just then at its
j height in New England, and the news
that a notorious young witch was to bo
j tried in Salem now spread through the
country and multitudes flocked to tho
city.
Besides Egbert and Dr. Lennox, there
was a third friend who visited the jail
daily. It was an old man dressed as tin
Indian and so thoroughly disguised that
no one would have suspected that lie
was white. True lie never gained admittance,
but ho was always observed
loiterinjTaround the prison floor when
I ever either Egbert or the Doctor wore
visiting the prisoner.
The day set for the trial at length ar1
rived, and Dorothea, still far from well,
5 was led before the magistrate. A formal
' charge of witchcraft ami of murder we. c
? read, and, by the advico of counsel, to
1 both she pleaded not guilty. These pref
liminaries being over, the evidence of
! her Jfcague with the devil was begun.
Tho Rev. Henry Granville was the
' first witness and minutely ho traced tho
5 history of Dorothea and her father, and
of the strange affliction of his daughter,
! Achsah. Other members of the settlement
were sworn also and bore witness
to many strange actions of the accused,
! but the chief evidence against her was
' divided into two heads?licr persecution
[ Achsah and her mysterious visitor who
' had provided for her at her marriage
and during her illness. Both facts were
; supposed to be clearly proven by the
testimony.
But when the defense began and Dr.
1 Lennox was put upon the stand, even
1 Mr. Granville was able to see that
' the first part of his testimony would
1 fall to the ground. Tho Doctor stated
that he had made a careful study of
! Achsah's trouble and that he was confident
that she was suffering from a nervous
disease, not often met with in the
new world, but which was not uncom'
mon in the old. He pointed out that her
mnct vintant, attarlvS hadalwavs occurred
during a thunder-storm, and drew the
1 | deduction that her physical nature was
unusually sensitive to the electric currents.
To this lie added his belief that
an inherited antipathy to Hillary had
been fostered and exaggerated until his
presence really did have an evil effect
upon the child, but that this effect was
due to anything which Hillary did, ho
6toutly denied.
TTO BE CONTINUBD.]
TEMPERANCE.
nUTTH IS STRONG.
Though wo were but two or three,
Sure of triumph we should be,
TV? our promised land shall see, ?.
j Though the way seem long;
I Every fearless word we speak
I Makes sin's strongholds bend and creak;
| Wickedness is always weak.
J3ut trutn is young unu suua*.
Aicr-ciT nrr STO~ACTT.
"When one tells you to put toads, lizards,
makes, etc., in bottles filled with alcohol so
as to preserve the flesh from dissolving and
fceep it fresh for a term of years, another one
(ells you to put alcohol in your stomach
where a good meal of fresh meat has gone,
[orthe purpose of dissolving it and "aiding
ljgestioa." The man who takes alcobofto
ielp digest his food must first throw off the
ilcohol before his stomach can commence .
, he operation.
BITTER AND DESPAIRING WORDS."
At the World's Congress on Africa, recently
held in Chicago, an African Prince, Massomi,
read a paper in excellent English which was
well received. In one passage, the young
colored man?he is not over three and twenty
?raising his bands to the skies wished to
God that Afr^a had never seen the white
man or heard of Christianity, because of the
curse brought to his land by the rum traffic.
What must be the shame of every white man
who reads those bitter and despairing words.
MONEY WORfrE THAN THROWN AWAY.
The amount of money uselessly spent for
liquors in the United States simply to satisfy
the appetite (leaving off the revenue derived
from the traffic, and the good results from
the use for industrial, artistical. mechanical,
and medicinal purposes) would, each yoar.
pay all the expenses of the United States
Government, and all the collections made on
account of tariff, and for all property de1
stroyed by fire in the United States, and
i leave the nice little sum of 77,811.525 dollars
, for "pin money."
, HE WAS A TEETOTALER.
; Dr. Thomas Guthrie was an indefatigable
preacher against intemperence. and- w;is the
originator of ragged schools, which bccame
a National feature.
i was first led."' he told a temperance
, meeting in Belfast, '"to form a high opinion
of the cause of temperance by the bearing of
I an Irishman. It is now some twenty-two
vears aoro. I had left Omagh on a bitter.
bitiug. blasting day. with a lashing rain. and
1 had to travel across a cold country to Cookston.
Well, by the time we had got over hair
the road we reached a small inn into which
I we went, as sailors in stress oi weather run
I into the first haven. By ttiis time we were
j soaking with water outside, and as these
, were not days of tea aud toast, but of toddy
. drinking, we thought the best way was to
( soak ourselves with whisky inside.
"Accordingly, we rushed into the inn. or1
dered warm water, and got our tumbler ol
t toddy. Out of kindness to the "ar driver.
I we called him in. He was not very well
; clothed?indeed.be rather belonged in that
respact to the order of my ragged school in
Edinburgh. He was soaking wet anil we
5 offered him a good rummer of toddv. We
1 thought that what was sauce for the goose
was sauee for tho gander . but the ear driver
j was not such a gander as we. the geese, took
. him for. He would uot taste it. Why.' w>
asked, 'what objection have you?' Said he
5 'Please, your reverence. I'm ateetotaler. and
I won't taste u drop of it.'
3 "Well, that stuck in my throat, and it
went to my heart, and. in another sense than
3 drink, though. it went to my head. Here
] was a humble, uncultivated, uneducated carman.
and I said. 'If that man can deny himself
this indulgence, why should not I?" ]
" remembered that, and I have e,ver remembered
it to the honor oI Ireland. I have
t often told the story and thought of the example
set by that poor Irishman for our
, people to follow. I carried home the re3
membrance of it with me to Edinburgh,
t That circumstance, along with the scenes
in which 1 was called to labor daily lor
| years, made me a teetotaler.
FUTURE ADMIRALS. I
I
HOW NAVAL OFFICERS ARE g
MADE AT ANNAPOLIS. v
c
The Life of the Plebe on Board
Ship?Daily Routine at the
Uaited States Naval
Academy.
WHEN spring makes all the >
world fresh and green,the
host of candidates that L
seek admission to tho
United States Naval Academy at Annapolis.
Md., throng through the gate,
way, where a marine sentry stands >
guard day and night. To those who
leave through that gate after an unsuccessful
bout with the entrance examinations,
the glance back through
the gate seems like a view of lost para
dise and the sentry seems a bar between
them and their fondest hopes.
To the others?those who pass the entrance
examinations with flying colors,
the same sentry seems likea prison
guard, keeping them in from the world they
have left outside. The lesson of li
discipline, daily, hourly discipline, is 1<
hard to learn, and the course of daily a
study and drill seems long to look for- t
ward to; but once through success- o
fully, the reward is reached and the fc
Government gives the successful cadet g
a commission that is certainly most a
honorable, and reasonably sure for v
life.. Once parsed, he takes the "iron
bound1' oath of allegiance from an old
justice of the peace in Annapolis,
whose office is in the btfilding that v
served as a law office when General I
Washington came to Annapolis to ie- ii
sign his commission, and has been do- d
ing the same duty ever since. t!
After this the young cadet, or c
"plebe," in the parlance of the acad- v
emy, gets a cap (the only part of his 1<
uniform that is not made to order) and g
starts to his temporary home on the 1<
old Santee that does duty, tied to the n
dock and grounded in the mild, as a
quarters for the "new fourth" class, si
UUU CKJ W |/ilOUU guiy * VJ. VMV ?
nate cadets who may commit any seri- a
one infractions of the regulations, v
Then begins the month of drilling in n
"setting up" that precedes the first b
cruise. Of all drills, setting up drill, h
?' UNITED STATES STEi
which consists of a series of caleethe- T
nic and marching drills, is the most f<
prosaic and dnll, and thic, too, while ii
the upper class cadets in the academy e;
are enjoying the happy weeks preced- d
ing graduation day and that culmina- n
tion of a series of calisthenic and tl
marching. While the other cadets ci
spend their few spare hours in danc- f<
ing at the hops and walking and flirt- cj
ing with the crowds of pretty girls that o:
come to Annapolis at this time, the tl
new plebe must spend his time either si
on the old Santee or drilling under the p:
guidance of Swordmaster CorbeBier ti
and hie assistants?and fine drillmas- p
ters they are, too. Then at nearly li
every turn some new and unexpected c?
regulation confronts the inoffensive st
plebe and, whether he meant to do w
wrong or not, the demerits go down st
against him. But it ie when he goes ja
up to the mess hall to meals that his d:
- _ r *? i."L^
CUp IB iuii Oi woe, ivr were iue u^oi jui
classmen are upon him, some with tc
strings of questions that bother and w
perplex him, and others with remarks rt
upon his soldierly bearing?generally bt
an awkward attempt to be military? oi
or upon his uniform, which is likely at d<
that time to be a conglomeration of
uniform and civilian's clothing. ei
THE CADET'S FIRST CRCTSE.
At last the June ball and graduation ^
over, the cadets left behind, except
the second (junior) class, embark on ,
the Constellation, a sailing frigate,
over a hundred yearo old, for the
three months' summer cruise, when ^
the plebes learn the first duties of a
sailor and the upper classmen practice
the duties of officers. Dressed in j.
a blue jacket suit of white duck,
sleeping in a hammock hung from the
beams above tho deck, and working
from morning till night, the young
plebe's life is a hard one now. It is al
not the work only that is hard; it ie le
the hazing and running that now be- qi
comes the Dane of his existence, for it pi
seems to him that every upper class- fa
man thinks it a duty to make a jjlebe's si
life miserable. The injurious hazing ti
of former days, which often resulted it
in bodily injury, is gone, but enough w
x- i ii.. _i_i? u,
remains i>o Keep wc pieuee uuv-u^iicu. | ?
He may be required to eat a piece of
candle, occasionally taste a cake of fl<
Hoap, but that iB the limit, and the w
common forms of hazing amount only st
to saying over doggeral rhymes or tl
standing on his head. And what if the se
plebe objects and refuses, you say? w
Well, generally, it is said that he does tl
not refuse, but when he does a fight tb
may be arranged, and the matter set- m
tied in the wash room up forward on b<
** BBS^f ^ st
MESS HALL OF THE CADETS. rtl
, Ol
the Constollation, according to Queens(bury
rules. And many u fight has m
this old wash room seen, though rare- ar
]v with any permanent injury to the j ti<
combatants. j in
The summer cruises generally start m
*ut from Annapolis, ami make a short ac
?itop at Old Point Comfort, whtre the a i
?adett> may get a chance to go asnore aj
and chttrm the girls with their brant; itf
buttons and blue uniforms, for girls an
are always fond of uniforms. Then mi
J the ahip goes up the coast to NewLon- of
' ' T.*?: /
^ y y&*.
*
ton and Newport. When the ship bj
;ete fairly out to sea, the woe of the ar
tlebe is multiplied, 'for seasickness ab
generally adds to hazing and hard sn
rork to make his life miserable. But fic
>nce in port at some of the New Eng- ci]
?__?> ?- ^ J ai
AlW'Hlt HHVKIF.T.'BL fft
and summer resorts, the half day's si
save to visit the shore on Saturdays w<
nd Sundays to those who remain on de
he first conduct class comes like an ?
asis in the desert. The hotels on the fe
ieach are thronged with summer ro
iris, who always appreciate the cadets, co
nd look forward to the hop on board, gn
rhich is the last thing in port. TV
LIFE ON BOARD SHIP. ^'
During these ahmiher cruises the di
reek days are spent cruising about in of
iong Island Sound, the cadets work- as
ag the ship, those in the lower classes
oing the work of the blue jackets and dt
bose in the first class acting as offi- ut
ers, under the guidance and super- in
ision of the regular officers. They th
aarn to tie knots, clamber up the rig- ei1
ing, loose and furl sails, heave the wi
sad, and, in fact, to perform all the tw
lany duties of a sailor. The open sea ca
ir and plenty of exercise make them tal
trong and healthy, and, in spite of oe
he fact that their hammocks are hung eii
s close as can be done on a poorly -wl
entilated deck, and the food is often ne
ot particularly enticing, they come sp
ack from the cruise glowing with ro
ealth and bronzed by sun and sea. a ]
! w]
AA \
" e a
lMSHIP SANTEE. ,
'lie amusements aboard ship are few t6
)r cadets on a practice cruise. Smokig
and card playing are crimes in the Th
jres of the regulations, yet a little dii
anger only adds zest to the enjoy- 1 1
lent, and wherever they can escape an
le vigilant eyes of the officers and co
idet officers groups of cadets enjoy a sn]
sw puffs or a game of cards. On one Pa
*i-Icir\ ontrowal mo/lfl CL nTftP-tlPfi DI'
f wearing shirts and hats exactly like '
le blue jackets when the evening inf
lades came od, and smoking a clay at
ipe such as the sailors of every na- th<
onality use. With their hats well *8'
ailed down over .their eyea, there was sp<
ttle danger of detection. On one oc- am
ision a cadet was thus enjoying the
olen sweets of his evening smoke
hen the officer of the deck came up Pr<
iddenly, and taking him to be a blue th<
cket, ordered him to attend to a very th?
isagreeable duty, that a cadet would rp<
at be expected to do. To refuse was til
? be detected and "spotted," which c?1
ould give him enough demerits to ftn<
:strict him from going ashore, so he da;
fallowed his pride and did as he was
rdered, considering that he had paid
jarly for his smoke that time.
Target practice, boat drills, and
ren landing parties for drill fill up
le time in port and give the cadets a 4jj
reliminary practice in their future r*
ities aboard ship. When they te- 5
>me officers and look back upon the *
ijb when they pulled at ropes and
>wed an oar they may appreciate
hat the enlisted man under them\
id n mavi'm a 1
iVtJ IU UU 1U1 11/ iO o juiuoxm V*
idet's training that "he is not able to ?
>mmand until he is first able to do *
te same thing himself." Upon this Su:
axim his education is founded. ^
DAILY ROUTINE AT THE ACADEMY.
for
The three months of cruising over ^ei
1 except the plebes go on a month's Sp
ave of absence, while the plebes are 0],j
lartered again on the Santee and
factice morning and afternoon at in- me
ntry, artillery and boat drills. This ^
iort month's leave each year is the
me looked forward to by all, and at an(
s end the cadets come back laden ]ov
ith stories of the good times they f]e^
*ve had fin)
To the manv visitors who enjoy a mn
seting view of the Naval Academy ! on
ith its well kept green lawns that on(
retch down to the white sea walls of res
le Severn River the life of a cadet ca],
:ems ideal, and they may even ask eor
hat he does to occupy his time. But
ie time is well occupied. Here is
le daily routine during the eight ]
onths' study from the 1st of Octo- scr
;r until the graduation in June: At La]
o'clock the buglers march through jng
ie hall, playing reveille, that famil- ax
r call that every cadet has hummed : mjj
I can't get them up, Th<
I eun't get them up, the
1 can't get them up. j
in the morning: i
Get up you lazy loungers. fieJ'
Put on your blouse uud trousers. | wo<
I cftu't get t'leni up iu the moruing!" j ]eu
Then the cadet in charge of the floor ax '
art* at the last note to inspect the j gav
orns und sec that every one is turned j his
it, and woe to the sleepy ones, fur jusi
rt demerits is the penalty. Thirty j the
inutee later the assembly sounds j tig!
wl ilnwn th?> nt-.ftirK a11 rnsli to forma- ! t.nw
jn for breakfast. The long lines fall j pou
anil thi' ranks arc opened and j
inutely inspected by officers who, | F
cording to the cadets' ideas, can see ; in 1
spot, of dirt n hundred yards away, j as
1 the formations are with exact inil- j the:
irv precision, the orders are read j tire
id the battalion marched into the I kuc
ess hall. One-half of the lower floor j and
the cadets' new quarters is occupied j cur
L
" . " ./ ,; "" "fffjSgjg.
ri
? =.
this mess hall, where the 300 cadets! i
e seated at the tables in three rows,!
'out twenty-five at each table. At aj
tall table near tie centre are the of-i *
:er in charge (a lieutenant of the dia>;
pline department), the cadet lieuten-j
it commander (the ranking cadet of-!
ser), the cadet adjutant and the cadeti
Beer of the day. Three times a day
e assembly sounds for meal forma-;
ans, and the cadets have just time to! ,
it in ran Irs trifh p.lnthefl and fihoeff
ashed, blouses buttoned and caps onj
uare, when the bugle sounds "left!
ce" and the rolls are called, thej
rdy and absent ones spotted, andj
terwards assigned demerits unless!
eir excuses are infallible. ^ <
The room itself is interesting, with
; high ceiling and windows lookingj
it on the fair grounds of the acad-j ' \
ay. The walls and pillars are oov-i
ed with trophies?flags won in thej
>at races in several quarters of the!
obe, class pictures and- banners, thej
ones of crack shots of past classes
id some ofetihe targets showing their!
ore and the bow and - sculls of ai
mous racing eheH.. i - .
The pealsare composed of good, rob-j
antial food, well cooked and fairly, *
ill served. For example, a recent
kv's menu was as follows:. Br eakfastj
TJ/\yi/o4ftnV 1c aaI.I
UiCU |n/M?WDO) 1VUO) w*e,
tea, , chocolate ; dinner?eoup,
aet beef, roast mutton, potatoes,
rn, sliced tomatoes and iee cream;
pper?cold meat, rolls, tea, coffee.
hile not elegant, this is enough to '
iep the young men in good health '
id strength, and on holidays a finer
nner is set out, in which ail the skill
the gray-haired cook and his three
Bi8tants is demonstrated.
But to return to the routine of daily
ities. Breakfast over, thirty mines
is given the cadet to put his room!
order. The three upper floors of!
e quarters are divided into rooms onl,
fcher side of the hnlis that run length-' '
se of the building, each room about;.
-1? J--1 J L.Ui *
eive ieet square huu uomiug *>wwj.
deta. In the center is a plain, square M
ble, with ft gas jet dropping from the '
iling over it. On either side of thej
lgle window stands a wardrobe,)
lere the regulation clothing is kept '
at]7 put away and ever ready for in-ection,
while on either side of the
om is a narrow iron bedstead, with'
iiair mattress and hair pillow, wfth)
lite sheets and spread.
Two chairs and two shelves complete
e furniture of these very plain and
nventional rooms, yet they are oomrtable
enough. The two cadets in vy5'.'.
ch room take turns for a week at a
ne as "cadet in charge of room" and!
ch cadet is required to make his own
d, keep his mirror and toilet articled
i i * i . ! ; xtJ
ian ana m oraer, nis snoes iieauyj
acked and arranged beneath his bed,
3 wardrobe in order and his books
sted and arranged on the shelves,
cording to size and right side np.
a result every room looks exactly
;e any other room.
At 8 o'clock in the morning the
tudy call" is sounded, and half of ; j
eh class falls in to go to recitation,
lile the other half goes to the rooms
study. An hour later they alterte,
at 10 again, and at 12 still again.1
ion a few minutes' rest comes before' 1
iner at half-past 12. From half-past
an til 4 in the afternoon the study
d recitation again alternate, then
mes an hour or two of drill, then
pper at half-past 6; while from halfst
7 till half-past 9 study hours arer
Bserved, and at 10 taps sonnets and
IglJlsD UUli CUUO luu uuiy uwj. ^<M.
j the study hoars those cadets not
recitation are required to remain in
;ir rooms and study and no visiting^
allowed, a system of frequent inactions
generally making visits!
ong the cadets during these hours
ry difficult. Yet friendly parties"
11 get together and when the ap-'
caching footsteps of the offioer of
s day is heard the visitors hide in}
wardrobes, where there is barely
)m to cronch down out of sight un-.
the inspection is over, or get ^
ight, which means more demerits
1 no liberty on Saturday and Sun- .
r. ;? ;
I
CADET GROUNDS.
J
Saturday afternoon and evening and1
aday afternoon are the hours of rest
ih one hour recreation on Wedneaf
afternoon, and at these times the
tunate ones who have not enough'
nerits to restrict them, generally;
;nd these afternoons in the quaint
. city of Annapolis. During the
iter a series of hops form amusent
for Saturday nights.
The holidays are few and short, only f
anksgiving, Christmas, New Year
1 Washington's Birthday being aired,
and then the unfortunate ca 8
on the first conduct class who can
3 a relative in Washington or Balti- '*
re to visit go off for a day or two
Christmas and New Year, and the
js who stay behind find solace in a 4
t from study and the great boxes of I
;e and turkey and good things that
ne from home.?Washington Star.
The Bear and Boat. f
1 ? o V?Aaf ha/I an BTAi'tinff ?
1 our men jxi ? uv/l.1. ^ 0
immftge with an enormous bear on
seWhitcom. They were on a lish- .1
trip, and were armed only with an
and a pistol. They 6aw it.swimag
in the water and opened fire.
? bear made straight for the bow of
boat, with its eyes like small balls
ire and its month open wide. It
soil the boat, tearing a piece of
jd oil' the gunwale several inches in 1
th ; then, dodging the blows of the 1
that were directed at him, Bruin i
e the side of the boat a swipe with ^
. 1 i. R?j. 1
loot, Denrijr uvenuimu^ u, jl^uv
i then the pistol and the ax got in
ir work, and the bear gave up the
it and the ghost. The carcass was ?
ed ashore and weighed nearly 300
inds. ?Morning Oregonian.
'oisonous snake* are so numeroue
'enczueia that snake bite is almost
common there as in India. But
re are fewer fatalities, for the nais
have discovered that a plant " J
i\^i as the ocnmillo. when powdered
applied to the wound, results in ft
e in almost every case. ,