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^r. ; TO-DAY. *T SIRS. NAPOLEON D. MORANGB. The flowers by the lone wayside Look smiling to the sun above; They live their lives, are satisfied, Nor question God'is pervading lovo The joy of their being lies In living, in the present hour; They ask no bounty from the skies But sunshine, air and gentle shower. The storms obey a secret will, And move majestic on their course; They have a purpose to fulfill, Why pause to cavil at its source? The new-blown rose is queen to-day; The breeze is in its dancing mood; That both must shortly pass away Makes neither on the morrow brood. To-day, to-day, Is Nature's song; To-day her gifts are heaven-sent; Of all her pliant, happy throng, Man sounds the note of discontent. He overlooks the fruitage rare; The glory of the harvest field; He takes a sad and meaere share Of ail tl>e gladsome earth can yield Be wastes maturity in strife, In impotent and vague unrest; Forgets that at the feast of life Ee is the chief invited guest. To-day, to-day, is Nature's song; Build well to-day, the past forget; Live for to-day, its joys prolong; To-morrow is a dream as yet. Nww York City (Station a). Ti_ nir EMB1I1W1IJII gp?.'* ' fl RemarKatils Romanes. .1/ J BY EMILY THORNTOIL V'' CHAPTER I. ? A STRANGE SUMMONS. Tn hi* nmisuallv nleasant office on Broadway fat Lemuel Gray, a middleaged man and succesful lawyer, in deep thought. * j. In his hand he held a letter, which, after a few moments, he again carefully read. As it refers to people and events to b? mentioned often in the remarkable story about to be related, we give the contents entire: Yojtktrs, April 15, 1880. Mr. Lomue! Gray: Dear Sir?It is with great difficulty that I pen the following, being very ill, hut as the object 1 have In view by thus addressing you, is of great importance, I will wi ite in as few words as possible. You are aware, being my confidential ad-rlser, that I expected to sail for Europe atocnly, in order to attempt to unravel the mystery 6uriounding the death of Sir Arthur Glendenning, in whose fate I am so deeply interested. , I wished to vist, in some disguise, the (own where Glendenniag Hall is situate^ to become acquainted with the present baronet and Lady Constance, his wife, with the eepbew and niece residing with them, and to learn something, if possible, abcut the only Bister who married without the consent of her family, and who, therefore, was disowned by her relatives, as v.e!l as a young girl whom it was said they had adopted. I desired, also, to make inquiries in re-*ard to the private character of Antoine Duval, the valet of the present Sir Beginald Glendenning. and to study eveiythinp that might bear upo:i the mystery of the case. I regret to eay that ray physician decide? It impossible for me to undertake, with safety, this journey. What do you think of my sending thither >a suDstltuter i cave in ininu a young puy Biclan, Dr. Earle Elfenstein. who resides in , your city. I cannot tell you his address, as he moved to a new residence last May. I write to ask you to hunt Lim up for me. Please make a few inquiries as to bis aircu instances, disposition, aad above all, whether he is an energetic and conscientious man. ? . Inform me !n regard to these matters at an early date. If favorable, and the plan meets your approval, set a time when you can meet him at my residence and explain to him the peculiar mission I wish him to * undertake in my behalf. Your presence wlli be absolutely necessary, as the disease with which 1 am a?2Jcte:i ftrblcU my entering into the long explanations that must be given in order to instruct him in the performance of the wcrk, should he agree to undertake it. Please attend to this at once and oblige, ^ -youi-s. etc., Leon Rappelym. To this, a few hours later, the following reply was penned: New Yobk, April 10, 18S6. Mr. Leon Rappelye: 1 >? ?!( Km?ITnnn fho rpoflnt of vours of the 15th, I examined the "City Directory" without delay. I find-Dr. Elfensteln's address to be 4? Eston street. OoJiig at once to the neighborhood, I learned from a reliable source that the young man has a very small practicc. therefore. tinds it difficult to support his widowed mother aDd himself in comfort. Tills state of his tiuancos is not due to lack of energy, for ho is indefatigable In hia efforts to beneiit his patients, but 4hosc who apply to him for advice are, unfortunately, the very poor in the region of his homo. lie Is an exceedingly conscientious and good man, and. from all I can learn, just the one to under:ake tho important busi i:~l. - T UU^ ?U1LU JVU auu trui^u M * Uiij approve. I will meet him at your residence ou the the evening of the Ifeth. It would be well to scud him a telegram to that effect as oou as you rccclve this. Yours sincerely, Lemuel Gray. It was a dull and dreary picture that the eyes of Dr. Earle Elfenstein rested upon, as he drew back the lace curtains that draped the parlor window of his cosy home. His practico was not large, and far from lucrative. Times were unusuaily ' bard, and his bills for services rendered poorly paid, so that he had, indeed, a card struggle to live. This afternoon he was peculiarly cast down, fcr his mother (who, since his father's death four* years before, had been obliged to look to him for support) had reminded liitn that the month's rent for the flat in which they resided would be due in three days, and he knew he haci not one quarter of the amount required, ner much faith in his ability to collect one of the many bills due.. Jt is no wonder, then, that a sigh escaped him, as 'ho turned lo greet the er/eet-IookSng lady about fifty years of age. who entered the room, holdiug an envelope in her hand. "lleic is a telegram for yon. Earle. "What can it be?" "1 cannot fay. as I expected none," he ivplic-d, opening tl:c missive*. "This is Kii.gulai. I am requestsd to leave the ??.. .i-~ o - ... p.-.- 4,* ITliV uy bill; o p. IU. ill luur.cis, iv ??< a gentleman, who is au invalid, on a inatt-er o; business. His name is Leon ilappclyo, a strange name t.o inc." "\Vh:?i eltaii you <io about- it?" askcci the mother, anxlv.'S'Jy. "I shall go, of course. The message fays, 'you will be met at the station.* I have just about time to answer a call #iid meet the train." "What time shall you return?" "It will be late, I know; perhaps not until morning, but if possible I will return to-night. Gooil-by. little mother. "Who knows but this will bring better things for us." Later, closely protected by a comfortable ulster from thr> heavy rain that was falling, with a train of serious thoug"ht9 in his mind. occasioned by his poverty, Dr. Eflei.stein wended his way to tbe Grand Central Depot, and entered the ear* that would bear him to his destination. . -. - . .. 0^7 - On dashed the train through the darl ness. On, on, and still the young phys cian brooded over his troubles, with ey fixed on the blackness without. Thus he sat, lost in thought, until tl whistle blew for the approaching St tion, and the brakeman, opening tl door, called, in a loud voice: " Vonkers, Yonkers!" CHAPTER II. MR. LEOS RAPPELVE. The rain was falling In torrents i the train came thundering to the statio: and upon stopping, the usual crowd hu rled out, and passing through the wai ing-room to the street beyond, were so< lost in the gloom. One, however, lingered at the doo lookiifg apparently Tor "some expecU person or conveyance. He was, as could easily be seen, stranger in the place. He had scarcely a moment to wai however, when a private coachman a proached, whip in hand, and accost* him. "I have been sent to meet a gentlems from New York named Elfenstein. A; you the one?" "I am." "Then please follow me.* The young man was soon seated in handsome closed carriage, while tl olon mnnntcH tn hts hn*. aild th< immediately started off at a papid pac Street after street was traversed, unl finally they turned into the extensr grounds of an elegant residence. The house before which they stopp< was large and imposing in appearanc but still had a dark and gloomy aspec No light was visible at any of the wi dows. As the young man stepped across tl piazza, the large doors were instant opened by a colored waiter, who motioni him to enter and proceeded to assist removing his overcoat and wet ove shoes. "How is Mr. Rappelye to-night' asked the visitor. "'Bout as usual, massa. 'Pears lil he must die, he is always so badly off f breff." "Can I see him?" "Yes, sah, just as soon as you i something to eat. Some dinner is wai ing, and de nuss says you am to eat * ? i *1? Jit** *a V*ie mnm immejeri,jy, ucu tumo up w *w>u. will show you, derfore, to de dinin room fust." "Very well," replied the 6trange wearily; "I am ready." Crossing the marble floor of the loi hall, he was ushered into a room el gantly appointed. The bright grate fi cast a cheerful glow around, while tl velvet carpet scarcely gave back a foe fall. The table was laid for one, and ve; soon a sumptuous dinner was served, which he alone partook. Leaving the stranger to enjoy his so tary meal, we will precede him to tl story above, and to the presence of t] invalid, whose urgent telegraphic dl patch had brought him to the place. The second story back room was larj and commodious, opening Into a roo beyond, where every luxury abounde for the comfort of the master. Yet In the midst of all this splendc sickness had stalked, ever reachii forth his poisoned tongue to blight ai wither the owner of it all. "Has ho come?" These words issued from the pale li of the sufferer, wno was half sitting, ha reclining upon the bed. "Has Dr. Elfenstein come? I thougi I heard the carriage." "You did, and he is here," return* the nurse and housekeeper. "I thou^ it best to havo him take dinner befo you saw him. I presume you have mu< to say and would prefer not to be inte rupted. He will bo with you in a fe moments now." The invalid sighed. Then, seeing hi greatly pressed for breath, "You seem suffer so much, had you not better pos *>i?n niitil mnrn?nsa }IUUV* UiUi . the nurse. "Oh, no. I may be worse the Asthma is so hard to conquer. I w; not defer my business. Has my lawy come?" "Not yet." "He should be here. The cuck< clock has sounded half-past eight soc time since." "Yes, it is a quarter to nine now. B the door-bell rings. I think that is he "Set that stand witn writing materia close by my bed, then go down and she both gentlemen to this room; after whii you can leave us to ourselves until y< hear me ring." Making herself known, the nurse i trocluced Earle to Mr. Gray, then led tl way to the sick man's presence. "Here is Mr. Gray, Mr. Rappelye, ai this is your expected friend, Dr. Elfe stein." Reaching forth a thin, white hand, i old man smiled feebly, and betwei struggling breaths_managcd to say: "I am very glad to see yon." rr* - \.t ^1 JLaKJUg iuu euiiiuiaicu uuuu iu uu his, Earle Elfenstein pressed it tender) and In a low tone, full of feeling, i sponded: "I am glad I could come to yon, b sorry, very sorry, to see you so ill." "You must wonder why I summon you, an entire stranger, to my side this unceremonious way, but I have ii portant business to transact. Talking such an exertion, my lawyer, Mr. Gra must explain for me my wishes, and w] I sent for you." These words v/ero uttered at interva for his short breathing prevented lo: sentences, and gently releasing his hai Elfenstein took the seat close beside t bed, while Mr. Gray seated himself iu business-like way beside the tablo. CHAPTER III. MR RAPPELVE'S PROPOSAL "Dr. Elfenstein." said Mr. Gray, "n client and friend, Mr. Leon Rappelj is, as you see, extremely ill. His suff< lngs are so great that He has deDutiz me to explain his motive in sending unceremoniously for you to v! H him bis home. Our friend is p lonely ma having 110 relatives living to whom wishes to leave his large fortune. 1 has dictated his last will and testamei and he desires to siirn it before be m te unabie.to do so; it was necessary I him to see you personally previous placing his name to the document which. I may add, you are deeply int< ested." Earle Elfenstein started as bo hea these words, and looked from the lawy to the invalid beside him. "You are surprised, naturally." aga resumed Mr. Gray, "and probably wc der what Mr. Itappelye knows of yc I will explain this at occc. Your lath was George Elfenstein, a well-kno) banker; in years gone by be did y Rappelye a newr-to-be-forgottcn servi< His arrival in this country was follow by a long and dangerous illness, when lfiv nlnnu amnri'i Ktranerf>r<5. nlmfiSt ri( lected, and ho attended to his wants ]i a brother until he was entirely cc valescent. "They met often afterward, and th lost siprht ?jf each other. Years of si!eii passed, when accidentally he Tcarri about three months since that his bei factor was dead, and ]:is only son wa struggling physician in New Yoi through an intimate friend, who oft -i : . inenuoneu ins iunuiu->? iui mil-Hi young man. and in this way Mr. Kj peiye became deeply intore-ted in yc lie lias heard of your fearless. eonsci< tious manner of mretinp your onpaj merits, ana this was a characteristic particularly wished to find in some yon friend.. When, therefore, his health ( (* . v , I. I _ * ' tlrely failed, 90 that be could no longer !i" look after his private business, he detere9 mined to send for you, and perhaps place his affairs in your hands." 36 The lawyer paused, and Earle ana" swered: 36 "Anything that I can do within the range of honor and integrity, I shall be pleased to undertake." "We felt so. The case then is this: but, of course, you will recognize the ls fact that the history of our friend's life, n which I shall be obliged to unfold to you, r! is told in strict confidence. Will you t_ promise to regard that confidence as a )n sacred trust, never to be told to another, until all that is now mysterious has been r> swept away?" 3d "I will." "Then I w$ proceed. Our friend was a the youngest son of Sir Geoffrey Glendenning, residing in a large town near t, Liverpool. This gentleman had one p- daughter, who married against his ;d wishes, and three eons?Arthur, who would in case of his death succeed in to the title; Reginald, two years re younger; and Fitzoy, the gentleman yon see before you, whose severe domestic misfortunes have been so great that for the last twenty-five years he has been a obliged to live in this country, under the ie assumed name of Rappelye. The cause jy of this retirement he has kept, and still e. wishes to keep, a profound secret. HI "A short time after the death ol his ^0 parents, for they expired within a few months of eacE oflier, and after "his jd brother Arthur had come into possession e, of his title, little turmoils arose between !t. the brothers, and seemed to embitter n- them exceedingly. "Ppoinn.lri the second son. had an utrlv. ae ' morose disposition, that was peculiarly ly exasperating, and whenever the opporjd tunity occurred he delighted in getting in Fitzroy into disgrace with the young r- baronet. * "These young men had a very pretty ?" cousin, in whose society they each took extreme pleasure. Her name was Conre stance Leonore Glendenning. It was or soon discovered that the affections of the young girl were centered upon Sir Arthur, and this knowledge was immcas diately followed by a betrothal, it- "Reginald, being somewhat disappointit ed that be could not win the prize, unI dertook to report several little interviews g- of a purely innocent and accidental nature that Fitzroy had bad with this x, lady to his brother, casting a very sinister light upon them, and assuring Arthur ig that Fitzroy was endeavoring to supe plant him in her favor. re aruuj siory lniuriai-ea me yuui.g ao nobleman, and caused a very bitter in>tr tervlew. Fitzroy indignantly denied every thought of interference, declaring ry the truth, that his love for Constance of was merely cousinly, and urging that he had been slandered. 11- "This Sir Arthur refused to believe,and ie they parted in anger, Fitzroy exclaiming, tie In a moment of unguarded passion, as he is- left him: u 'Very well, think so if it suits you; ?e but, mark me, you shall yet repent your in unjust accusations,- and, as I live, shall d, never repeat this insult' "Closing the door as he spoke, he ?r, stepped into the hall, and stood face to ig face with Antoine Duval, the valet of his id brother Reginald, and, from the conscious look he gave him, Fitzroy knew, and after events made him certain, that he had ps either pnrposely listened or accidentally ilf heard the unfortunate remark. "The brothers did not meet again that ht day, but early the next Fitzroy was awakened by an unusual tumult. ?d "Risinc. he dressed rapidly, and probt ceedeJ tcThTvestigate the cause of "Die r0 Disturbance ih ?To his horror he was told that Sir !r" Arthur had disappeared during the night. iW His bed had been occupied as usual, but he had probably been murdered, or very m badly wounded, as, while no traces of his to body could be found, evidences of a conitr test were on every side. 'd "Blood was upon the bed and floor, the window-seat was covered with it, as n* though he had been dragged through it, and then by means of a rope let down to er the ground below. "The rope still clung to the balcony. -< - l - 1 "ir rom ine grass 10 an ornamental uikc 00 not far distant were irregular patches o^ ae the same human gore. "Beyond that, nothing was ever discovered! . "That lake was thoroughly dragged for the body: the grave by the side of it was searched, not a spot being left in which a corpse could bo buried?to no 5U effect. "The body of the murdered Sir Arthur Glendcnning was never found. 6 "But, while stupefied with grief over . his brother's loss, our poor friend was made aware that the finger of suspicion n~ pointed to him with singularly fatal evi, dences of guilt. "A dagger with his name engraved en upon the handle was found by the bedside, on the floor, its blade still wet with blood. th "Beneath the window-seat, caught upy> on a nail, was a fragment of cloth which. *e- upon search being made, fitted exactly into a rent in a dressing-gown of his, that was found hanging in his own closet. "Horrible to relate, some of his brothPd er's Wood still clung to the gown! in [to be continued. 1 m Th? Next Parts Exposition. 7' rranes is already boginnineto prepare for the universal expD^ition of 1903. and if that exposition isnot entirely readyfortbo official Is. onenins?as the history of world's fnir-i ug makes it safe to predict it will not be?it will od not be for want of beginning the work oI he preparation in time. The site has not yet ( a been selected definitely, but it is suspected ' witb some reasonableness that the government officials favor the location occupied by the exposition of 1839, though they ar<i making pretenses of examining other proposed sites with a great deal of particularity, oy The Commissioner-General has been sere, lected, however, and hisnppointment caused >r- not r. little surprise. He is M. Alfred Picard. a Counselor of State, who has been acting as g0 president of the commission appointed by the : Minister of Commerce and Industry to pass upon the availability of the different siten 'n' submitted for the lair. M. Berger. a pro mill? nent official of the Exposition of 1839, was tic almost sure of getting the appointment, and it, it was even said it had been promised him by av Minister Terrier. His failure to get it is or ascribed to the government's dissatisfaction to with his course in the Chamber of Deputies. jn of which he is a member. ,r_ | Mr. Picard is forty-eight years of age. He was a pupil of the celebrated Fo!ytechni(|UH . School, and after his graduation thereenteral 1x3 the government School of Bridgesan 1 Roads. Cf He served with the engineers during the Franco-Prussian war and was promoted to in be chief of the eagin jer corps at Verdun. H'J i? 1U.il ?r>,l Ifj. | w;ts rtjipuiunju aiui-3 '.ujuicivi iu .... . ,u made section prasident in 1S85. H" has the ' "Tossof a prand "ffi.-ur of the LsKion of Honor atid holds th** position of iusp jctor'vn >;eueral of bridges an J roadways of the first class. :a. ? od laborers Jor South America. ho Tli" Central aa.l South Am erica a Oriental :g- Commercial Company has just closed a conko tract with brokers in China :o supply thirty thousand Chin?so laborers to planters in Cei:i trai and South America. 1: has also closed tt contract with the Peruvian Consul General nri to supply planters in Peru with ten thousand 11'3 laborer; recently arrived from China and ictl The company was incorporated for the purpose of supplying laborers from ( hina j and Japan to planters in (.'(Mitral ami rsr.u:i s ;i America at <-nst (>f ilO i lor each Japaneso rk, laborer and il50 for ?:?eli Oliines*. on ^ xd fullering iu Kansas. lP" There is suffering and threatened famine ill, in Southwestern Kansas, iu .-ifward. Gr.iut. Stevens, Morton and Stanton Counties. Noi i a spear of wheat or niade of corn has been ]J(, 1 raised there, and scores of families are with. out food except what they net from local ? I charity. Itehof is uryoDtly needed at once. ) 11* - ... .. WEST POINT LIFE THE MILL THAT GRINDS O YOUNG OFFICERS. Work in Plenty for Cadets?T1 Learn to Obey Before They Command ? In Barrack and Tent. Er VERY one who travels for first time along the beaut ^ Hudson between New Y and Albany asks for "ft Point, and is disappointed, saysCha: Hine in the St. Louis Republic, to 1 how little of interest can be seen ft " ' mi _ TT_ !._ J Ql. tne Doat or tram, xne uuiwju on Military Academy is on a broad plat several hundred feet above the ri and the railroads. It is well wc one's while, however, to stop off "West Point and proceed up the gi ualiy ascending road to "the plai which on a large scale correspond! the usual college campus. Here visitor finds a little world peculiar itself. Nature and man have co-oj ated to make one of earth's most be tiful spots one of its most useful well. Shut in by the Highlands of Hudson, which rise in the rear of grounds like small mountains, the n tary cadet learns the rudiments of art of war amid the most peaceful i toundings. So quiet is the place t the casual visitor fancies the ca must float as lazily through, academy as does the flag in the bre( Could the visitor follow the ca from reveille until taps he would c elude that the latter has a great c to do besides wearing fine clothes i dancing tne german. xne writer labored sixteen hours a day on farm, but never in the busiest agri< tural season did he work as he while a cadet at West Point. To deretand folly how this is true must follow out in detail the comi hensive system requiring the gl amount of work that the cadet is ca] upon to perform. West Point, m view of its unique eition in the educational world, ho system peculiarly its own. The 1 at which it divides from other gi institutions is that itpaysit6studen small salary to cover all their expeni view up the n while in the usual case it is the t dent who does the paying. This f snables West Point to do about ai pleases, and to withdraw from the iividual cadet that much cove privilege. The result is an iron < jipline, which, with salutary rest) fcions, is wisely administred for ' 1- L - ? A ^ ~ IU6QI llilCiCabOj ui mi vvuvyw^uvu* must be remembered that this is a I tional school, maintained by the p pie, and that the object in view is education of an officer fitted to rej sent those people in the army, all more important on account of its sn Bize, which forms the nucleus of tl: defenders. By this time the visitor is inquir about the trim cadet, whom he | seen disappearing around the cor of the barracks in response to the < emn call of a bugle. First of all, 1 did he become a cadet? He was pointed by the War Department the recommendation of his Congr ? Ba BUILDING A REVETMENT. man. Each member of the Lo House ia entitled to have one cadei the academy all the time. If each < didate that he nominated were mitted and graduated the Congr ? a nrtl ATA aVAVV I Ill HQ VrUUlU xm\o a gcmtiuu 11 w j ? years. Many candiilates fail on the trance examinations, ami only at fifty per cent, of those who are initted are successful in graduating that every year or two the Congr man is apt to find himself with a en appointment to bestow on some residing in his district, and betw the age of seventeen and twenty-t The President lms the uppoiutn: of one cadet from th* District of lumbiftaml ten from the United St: at Inrge. The "at large" appu :!ients are usually given to the son.' army and navy o.'lieers, who, from nature of their position, do not, > rule, remain long enough in one pi x- ...... !???! ,, HI anjiiiu; iuv ?wi..wu?j * douce. There fire usually fuur or hundred applications for each of cadet appointments at the Preside disposal. Those candidates who pass the trance examinations are admitted June, and immediately upon report at "West Point arc put under milit 1 discipline, which, as Ion:,- as they main at the academy, never rela: These new arrivals are known in en parlance as "beast.",' and the sepai part of cadet barracks to which mo called animals are assigned rejo . , r-.,7f .-v-? W. ;ti *? ""T ' ' . i in the name of "beastbarracks." Here for a few -weeks the new cadets live under supervision of an army officer, UT and in the immediate charge of cadet officers detailed for their instruction. rles ~in<* PLEBE BATTERY. om ites Drills, marching and formations keep eau them busy from morning until night, iver The old cadets go into camp on a corirth ner of the grounds about the middle of at June. In July the new cadets follow, ad- and camp is maintained until the end n," of August. Meanwhile, the new cadets i to have become full-fledged fourth-class the men, and are now known as "plebes," to a name which clings to them until the jer- following June, or a whole year. A sau- sharp line separates the plebe from his as colleagues of the other three classes. the Among ins own classmates ne is caiiea the by his last name, or, if popular, by his tili- first, but to an upper classman he is the always "Mister" So-and-so.' When adrar dressing an older cadet he must always hat prefix a "Mister" and end up with a det sir, and in return he receives the same the courtesies with scrupulous exactness. >ze. The following dialogue between an old ,det cadet and a plebe after his arrival in on- camp is of hourly occurrence. leal "What is your name, sir?" and "Mr. Smith, sir." has "Where are you from, Mr. Smith?" the "From California, sir." ' ;ul- "Who was your 'pred' (predecesdid sor), sir." un- "Mr. Jones, sir." one "What was your previous condition >re- of servitude, Mr. Smith?" eat "I was a student, sir." Lied Camp drags wearily by for the poor plebe and it is a daily source.of wonpo der to him that he has ever seen any is a attractions in the profession of arms, ine He goes to roll calls, to squad drill, to eat company drill, to artillery drilL He ts a marches to all of his meals at the mess ses, hall a quarter of a mile away, with a ! $ CDS0N FROM 'WEST POIST. ?tu-, cadet officer at his heels directing him act to keep back hie shoulders, to drpw in 3 it his chin, to straighten out his knees, in- to hold up hie head, or to correct any ted and all of the thousand and one bad lis- tendencies of the frail mortal in walkric ing. In addition to the above duties the he has to be in immaculate condition It for dress parade, both morning and Na- evening. He marches to instruction >eo- in swimming and to his dancing lesthe son. All cadets are taught to dance, jre- but the plebes, not being recognized the as having much more than a right to iall exist, do not attend the hope that are ieir given during camp. Our democratic Government insists that all shall have - f>V?/-vnr onrl on AVAT1 fihftnttfi bv JLUJ? u XCkkX DUVH . has making them wait a year to start in, ner 60 that the green, awkward boys shall sol- not be so badly handicapped by those low of their classmates who have had better ap- early opportunities. on Having established the plebe in camp ess- we may now turn our attention to those parts of the system which apply to all cadets alike. Unless failure in examinations causes a cadet to be discharged from the service sooner, he does not, in general, leave West Point for two years from the time he enters. He then receives a furlough for two months and a half and 5ft goes to enjoy the comforts and freedom of home, all of the more appreciated by reason of long absence. The furloagh summer is all too short, so pleasIantly do the days fly. The released cadet enjoys every moment of his liberty. What other people regard as a matter of course he considers the <rroA.t.or lnxurv. To be able to sit in a fist- e ? ~ rocking chair, to wear civilian clothSff. ing, to have pockets in which to pnt his hands, to be able occasionally to ' "" lie in bed in the morning, all these privileges are to him the acme of bliss. At West Point the railroad station at the foot of the hill is "off limits" for wer cadets, and to go to a station every t at day of his furlough if be likes, to get ;an- on a train and take a trip, is, indeed, ad- purchasing a through ticket to the ess- seventh heaven. our The first year cadets constitute what en- is officially the fourth class, but "the out plebe class" is the name generally apad plied. The next year this becomes sci the third or "yearling" clas?, its memess bers being termed "yearlings" from idet the length of their stay at the academy boy thus far. A cadet goes through a een "ulebe camp" and a "yearling camp," wo. ! but at the end of "yearling year" he i tent ?locs not begin hi* third year with a j Co- camp. This is his summer off. He tites becomes a second classman and, leav- , int- iug the other three classes to make up > of tlu; camp, his class goes on furlough, the whence its unofficial designation as is n j the "furlough class." Bach couiesthe iacc | "furloughmnn'' to resume student and -?si- barracks life the first of September, live ! and wlieu summer rolls around again the he goes to "ftrst class camp," for, j nt's having arrived at the dignity of his j senior year he scorns to use any ex- j en- cept the official designation of "first in class." Toward the end of the year ing his is spoken of as the graduating nI !iml at, tliH hihI of a successful ""J > ? ? - re- four year* he goes on ''graduating nee. leave" for three months and a half, at ulet the end of which, as a second iien ate tenant, he joins his regiment "wher- I the I ever it may then be," in Maine or ieee ] Texas, in Alaska or Florida. ] ) It will be noticed that when the colleges give rammer vacations the Military Academy establishes a camp and hangs on to its cadets during three summers out of four. Camp brings a weloome relief after months of hard study, but nevertheless it in1 1 - # t 3 !_ ciuaes a gooa snare 01 nara wor*. Only drill books are taken to camp and the cadet now does physical rather than mental work. He goes to rifle practice, to infantry drill, to light battery drill, to various kinds ol heavy artillery drill, and to mechanical maneuvers, where he jacks up great guns and puts in practical use the principles of philosophy which he hat learned during term time. He builds bridges of pontoon boats or of such materials as the woods afford The thermometer may be in the nineties in the shade, but the cadet stands in the broiling sun, and al the word ot command emoraces c heavy stick of timber and waltzes ii into position as gracefully as he will his best girl at the hop that night Perhaps in some unaccountable waj that self-same girl will discover thai both of the cadets hands are blistered by the pick and shovel with which h< has been digging a siege parallel 01 throwing up earth works. In his aftei life as an officer the cadet may neve] have to labor thu? with his hands, bul he will have to command soldiers whc do, and he must know how it is him self. As soon as the cadets march intc camp in June a guard is mounted, and never until the tents are struck, atthc end of August, is the camp withoul sentinels. Night and day, rain 01 L-- - xl 1 i.1. A DlilUU) Uiey AWp liUOU DUUUV nawu. About once a week each cadet has, ii some capacity or other* a tour of guard duty which lasts for twenty-four hours, In his best uniform he prepares foi the rigid inspection at guard mount ing, and that ceremony over, he goet on duty. There are three reliefs, eacl sentinel walking two hours and resting four. It can hardly be called resting, for the member of the guard stays oj Bleeps at the guard tent with aU h? clothes and belts on and his rifle al his side, ready to spring up at a moment's notice to repel the real or 'imaginary attack of an enemy that ma; happen along. This enemy is usually the inspecting officer, who comei around onoe or twice during the night and turns the guard out, to the great disgust of all concerned. During the camp three. hops ar< held during each week. They las' only two hours, but make up in hearty, enthusiastic enjoyment whal they lack in length. The girls are nf *)ifl /iffi/ian anrl parlpfft ni IClOWfCO V* IU1V WM?. ? visitors at the post, and come from al parts of the country, In spite of th< guard and other duty the cadet ir camp finds considerable time for happ] strolls around "flirtation walk" witi some girl friend, and adds, mayhap his romance to the many secrets whicl the historic old rocks keep for thos< who have gone before. He is usualh able to attend a couple of hops ever week, but sometimes, when he is most anxious to go, he will be unexpectedly detailed for guard in place of a mai who has been taken sick. Or the de partment of philosophy will decide that it is a beautiful night for part o the first class to have practical astron omy. As a soldier he can only obey and with a telescope, for a partner and the crickets for un orchestra he goei to his task trying, like Aeneas of old flirtation walk. to read in the stars what career th f?f,li.o ^ ffnro (nr }.im - A Rival to Oak. The representative of a well-knowi firm of builders informs me that h< has hit upon a discovery in a Borne< wood called "bilian." It has a ver close grain, and in appearance is nc unlike ebony, more especially afte: exposure to the air. Its main virtue, however, consists in its breaking strain which is greater even than that o English oak. Moreover, "bilian" i not a particularly heavy wood, since it only weighs sixty pounds per cubi< foot, against the eighty pounds o boxwood. Further, it seems remark ably free from the propensity to swel in water, and so would be extremel; useful for subaqueous piles, beside: being most suitable for beams and up> r Ignis 111 UOWCDLIU niwuKviuv. London Letter. A Flower Rope at Dinoers. A vogue in Paris is to drape pictures and screens and ornament the tabl< with heavy ropes of flowers. Not onlj does this coil go on the table, but th< floral rope is sometimes attached acrosf the backs of the chairs about a rounc table, so that when the guests ar< seated they have the appearance o being- united by a chain of blossoms and foliage. A brilliaut effect was produced at a dinner recently by th< use of scarlet geraniums twined in this ? -1 ? ?1 Inrtr' ocnoro ml a wily ill muhua mm ic.uiwi ?Washington Star. Development of the Football Player. 1 TEMPERANCE. I V M A BOBXB WORLD. \ , .'*t . A sober world, soon may It come, And God's good will on earth, be done 4 1 'J i ho taint ox arntiKenness De icmna, : Whera breezes blow and shinee the sozu , . DANGER SIGKAXS. 1 ; ' On the top of a hill in England there lei now a notice board with the inscription } i "This hill is dangerous to cyclists." Before j that notice was pat up a stranger had rlddenl t \ down the hill Beiore he had proceeded > many yards his machine became nnmnnage-j * able, and he was thrown with a sickening \ thud upon the pavement apd killed upon the . V spot. After that they put up the notice. If ' every place Where a young man's life had .1 i been rained were to be labelled, then even " 1 saloon in the United States woald have been . 1 labelled, "This place is dangerous to young V I men." j j ZXTF.S8E OF THE LIQCOE TRAFFIC. ! J Most of the fearful amount of crime, tm-j . V i est and impression can be very easily traced) 1 ' ?o the criminal tendencies of the liquor traf-j^ I b he; and the enormous consumption of the) 1 . -vages of labor, resulting in poverty and the 1 I exhaaftion of the resources of thf .people,! ! 1 "rut thic traffic oocasions, is notlesstnan one thousand millions of dollars'. . A safe and re-! f <- *>? estimate gives this as the amount .spent) directlv for alcoholic liquors, and another' ' thousand millions is expended to take caret 1 of its awful conscouences. ? Demorest's. .' ! ? ' < THE TERBIBLE IXCUBC8. Ko Intelligent observer can fall to see that i ' the liquor traffic acts as a treacherous and aj ' tremendous barrier to prosperity, and & b terrible incubus on all healtny enterprise.' , A wholesome competition is the most' effeotiye motive power -for awakening eater-' ; prise, and enterprise Is.the life-blood, bone,; and sinew of all active' and successful bust-, i ness ; but the devitalizing gangrebe of this: i poison of alcohol now permeates and injures every department of society. Its enor1 mous drain ana injury depresses enterprise. : producing a terrible burden of less, criminal! . tendencies, and a widespread insecurity in. all business relations.?Demorest. 1 6PB8Tmrrx rpa oix kills. [ TK? faMiunn m ntnh n mffMJimiM 'movement in England took active shape i& . r 187L Strange to say, the idea was suggested by the American evangelist, D wight L. Moody, and it grew with great rapidity until 1 now, in Liverpool alone, there Are sixty-Am , i of these plnoea. One of the most interesting . developments of the general plan is that Tol* lowed by a wealthy London toa-merehant, M Mr. JBtichanan. Leaving his palatial snr- mi t roun dings at the west end, he settled amidst V j the sordid poverty of YThitechapel, where he 1 L oouid personally overlook the working of bis 1 " project. He established "Teetotums," peo- J pie s tea-nouses, where tea, cake, bans, atb.,; i are sold to the poor, Jast as rioh brewers in \ New Ydrk own the majority of the lager beer saloons, where th?ir beer is sold. These' r places have proved an enormeus success in. i every way. little centers of tempernnee and' good morals in the midst of a seething world l of squalor, vice and wretchedness. 1 . " WHAT MEN RAY OF DB.IKE. I 5 Stupefies and besots.?Bismarck. t The devil insolation.?Sir William Lawson. I , The.beveragethe mother of sins.?Southey. The devil is in the drink.?David -Lewis, > J. P. i There is scarcely a crime before me that Is f not directly or indirectly caused by strongi drink.?Judge Coleridge. Liquid fire and distilled damnation.?* * Robert Hall. i I consider all spirits bad spirits.?Sir r Astley Cooper.. . atcSS The dynamite of modern civilization.?* ^ l I TTrtn .TnhirT) T.onff. / ' ' ' , Grape-juioe has killed more than jfrape- .. I Shot.?C. H. SpurgeoD, D.D. Drink Is the fruitful source of crime and pauperism.?Father Mathew. r Drink, the only terrible enemy whom Engj land has to fear.?Prince Leopold. v 'r', [. While you have the drink. you will havft ' the drunkard ?George W. Bain. 7 Choose rather to punish your appetites' < i than be punished by them.?Eplctetus. . Impossible to relieve poverty until we get 4 rid of the curse of drink.?Lord Shaftesbury. ' * ' It is a drink, a drink, and a drunkard; an . * appetite, a taste, a delirium.?Bev. 8. W, Pratt. I oppose drink becauseit opposes me. The ? work I try to do, it undoes.?Bfehop G. D,' 1 Foss. 3 The real evil in our community is the * drinking of intoxicating liquor.?U. S. Sena1 tor 0, H. Piatt. . ' . Alcohol, opium and chloral are all lethal poisons. whose tendency is to tbo descent of the human race.?Dr. Dorman Kerr, j VAKfSfi DECHKAKD3 OF THE BABIES. ' v When an infant is born, says Dr. Keely, some form of aloohol Is usually an attendant at the birth. If the infant escapes a whisky bath or a few drops of some stimulant, it js probably through some neglect. It is rare indeed that a child a few days old has not . had a hot whisky several times. It the babe feeds on milk and water too early, ot if anything goes wrong with the mother or child, the domestic and very likely the professional1 remedy is whisky. j Indigestion, too much crying, cholera in- J factum, measles, scarlet fover and partica-1 . 1 larly diphtheria are treated by alcohol and' I opium very largely by the physicians. I do not question the propriety of givingt , these drugs as remedies. I do not doubt the wisdom or skill of the physicians who find' these remedies useful in diseases. But T assert that the soothing sirnps and other opiat? preparations, the wines and hot slings and large quantities of alcoholic liquors given to. (children tcrquiet them or cure them of dls? eases, cause the drink habit. ' The stamp of the drug remains on the1 J brain of the infant, even If tbe drug is no longer given. Tbe misery of babes dragged a to drunkenness and then very likely sudden- J 9 ly deprived of the accustomed stimulant ifl ' , fl without doubt as acute and great as is older 1 people. People who have dosed children } with soothing syrup know how difficult it is to wean the child trom the dru~ Bur even j if the drujj is no longer civen tho thirrt remains. When the babe grows up to the stage ' of youth. h? has tbe craving without a name! 5 or understanding perhaps until for some cr reason a BtlmuUmt or dose of the accustomed t drug is taken. There is an immediate and1 perhaps prolonged debauch, followed by the' f usual phenomena of inebriety. It makes no , difference if the drug is alcohol or opium or * I both. Both of these inebrieties may exist in! !. the same person, and ho may be both a drunk1 ard and an opium user, and this condition s can be and often is the result of opium or j whisky inebriety acquired in the cradle andj nursery. ; Child drinking is one of the most prevalent i disease. It is coextensive with the extent of alcobol and opiates ?iven to children for I any cause whatever. It is therefore as extensive as the prevalence of the diseases o? 7 childhood, because the inebriating drugs ara 9 universally used in these diseases, i re#aru child Inebriety as the chief cause of intemperance among ull classes. I do not say that every child subjected to the infloenceof these drugs beeomes'an active inebriate, but I say that if the history of drunkenness is carefully inquired into it will be found that the larger number of inebriates took opiates i i or alcohol when they were children. M 3 TE1IPEKAXCE NEWS AND NOTES. 1 r Every drunkard used to boast that he ' I 5 could drink or net it alone- f 3 The man who u?s temperance prw^pm 1 should not keep them in the dark*. 3 Mr. Victor Burton, of a celebrate;! brewc ers' lirrr. in London, has become a teetotaller and withdrawn from the firm, forfeiting ' thereby his right in S5,000.000. J I Fifty per cvnf. of the young men of Switss- J > erlanil are nn'it for military service on ac- . J . count of injury to their health and strength I produced t?y excessive drinking. I A drunken man never yet was formidable j| nor "ver will be. The determined will of a fober. respectable man is a moral law which the wise submit to. and fools only resis*. The filth statistical report of the Interstate t Commerce Commission for 1?92. gives the cumber of railway employe? in the United j States as 821,415. An important temperanco mission fluid indeed. In the name of the Scottish Christian ' Temperance Union, a letter has been sent to 1000 ministers in Seotlanl. urging them not ' to ni\i moral sanction and support to tho liquor traflic by allowing fermented wine to be used at the communion. Medical men are becoming more and moro aliva to the important fact that many men J | are now dyin< of drink who were never A , drunkards "and possibly were never once JH drunk. The moderate use of alcoholics produces undue stimulation and irritation 1 of the brain, the stomach and other organs, 2 uad thus brings about disease and death* I - . - m