The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, December 06, 1893, Image 6
^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