The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, July 29, 1896, Image 6
A WOMAN'S
JXWTUDXinV
CHAPTER XVII?Continued.
"Poor Brian. What a state to be in.
Don't shudder any more. The places I
go, and the people I meet, only hurt my
heart A very effective hurt, too; for it
teaches me to appreciate my own good
fortune, and it makes me feel very regretful
to sit here amid so much comfort
and luxury, and remember the many
victims of the world's injustice. You
* 1 Trhnf naa
couia never uuagiue, imku, ........ ,?
elonate delight that poor little crippled
girl took in the few flowers I carried
her; and, while I watched her, I could
not help thinking what a revelation a
sight of Elmwood would be to her. I
have been thinking of it ever since. So
many pians have filled my heart,
but they are all impossible. I feel bo
helpless and?rebellious. Doctor, you
are smiling. I don't think you quite
enter into my feelings. Can you
Imag ne a woman living on the proceeds
of button holes, at a cent and a
half apiece? Agnes' mother supports
herself so. She is satisfied, she told
hnlua arfl lllpntv.
JTJtJ, WXIt'Il UUbwu uvivv %?. w 4 w .
But now they are not. Hooks and eyes
have taken their place. I told Nanny
the other day that I liked hooks and
eyes. Now I hate them, because I
know they have taken bread from at
least one woman's mouth. And she is
not alone. I feel that I have been living
in a small corner of the earth up
to this time, and I am only just)
awaking to real actual life. It is a sad
revelation for me. I cannot tell you
how many women I saw to-day, and
how many others I heard of, who sing
the Song of the Shirt from daylight to
midnight?to whom its heart-break
and want are a living reality. How
can we talk of the demoralization of
the lower classes? How can we preach
to them? Shall we imitate the exman
who cave a Bible
when the starving woman asked for
bread? We forget our souls when the
body is hungry; at least, I .should.
But, if I were one of those women,
wearing out my life for a pittance, I
Bhould not forget that the man for1
whom I starved lived in a palace, and
enjoyed the luxuries purchased with
my life-blood. The world admires
such men, and calls them fortunate and
successful, because they have made so
much wealth in a few years; but I am
very much afraid that, if I were in
their place, I should see a wan, hungry
face on every dollar."
"Isn't that rather severe, Mrs. Leigh?"
Margaret did not meet Wilson's eye
as she answered this question.
"Perhaps it is. I'm afraid I always
express myself too strongly. These
things appeal to me so forcibly, and
when I ieel, I feel intensely."
"Then take my advice and don't go
among them," observed Brian, practi
^ x ? ?Vil/Nn/v^Vitr +A onalf
cally. "it is not true puuusuuuj w
out the dark side of life. This is not
home, and you cannot be sure into what
sort of places your-wanderings may take
you, or what kind of characters you may
meet"
Margaret was thoughtful a moment
"I do not chance upon much refinement
and elegance," she said presently;
"but that does not affect me in any way.
I feel that I could take the hand of the
worst creature on earth and not bo low- I
ered. You know I have a prejudice I
against those people whose excessive j
i fiv-im onntant with I
gUUUXJCdO Dili iuxxo iiuui
others?not always so much worse, only
more unfortunate than themselves.
They are the Pharisees, who thank God
they are not as their neighbors are.
Suppose we should imitate them. I like
to see the picture of the woman clinging
to the cross, and I confess I find it
Inspiring; but at the same time, I cannot
help thinking that the woman who
holds out her hand to an unfortunate
Bister is more helpful and more noble.
If the world thinks otherwise I disagree
with it. Don't draw down your lips in
that pathetic way, Brian. This isn't a
sermon. I sha'n't say another word."
Margaret settled back in her chair,
with an air of determination that rather
amused Wilson.
"I am on your side of the question,"
he replied, with a smile. "So is Brian,
If he chooses to admit as much."
"I'm incapable of any admission just
now," put in Brian. I am wholly lost
In admiration of Margaret's facility for
disposing of all opinions not her own,
and marching on to victory. She has a
AMt /-?!/-> a in rr ramArlrfl
nraj vx uiiu^iu^ aiv* ?,
which says quite decidedly 'There,
that's final. Dispute if you dare!' It is
useless to say 'Oh, Brian!' Margaret.
The fact is true. Tou have a most
astonishing tenacity for your own ideas.
You can out-argue the greatest logician
on earth. Out-talk him. I should say."
* "Thanks for the correction. Youi!
distinction is delicate, but obvious. It
would be too much, I am sure, for any
man to give a woman credit for an
ability fc> argue. I wonder what poor
jnen will do, when they are forced to
recognize woman's mental equality.,
perhaps even then they will continue to
Indulge in witty satire, at her expense,
We forgive them. To lecture us affordsj
jthem innocent amusement, and they
really haven't the grace to echo Charlotte
Bronte's prayer: 'When I have
toothing to say, may the Lord give mo
grace to be silent.' "
"You have us quite defenseless, Mrs.
Leigh. Brian has not a word to say,
and I ana but little better. How are w<j
to find consolation for your unflattering
opinion?"
"You would not be a true man, Doc^
tor, if you did not find it within your*
onlf T hAvft often thoucrht that V0U ar<
the natural follower of Descartes.
Theoretically and practically you finJ
the ego all sufficient."
"Worse and worse," laughed Wilson,
"And Brian rejoices in my discomfiture.
Shall I regret being a man?"
"By no means/" returned Margaret.
"It is the next best thing to being a
woman. You have the easier side of
life, too. We have the harder. Th?
ilion's share of suffering falls on us, arid
w*' must see our duty under the rnosl
painful circumstances. A man mav ba
blind, indeed, ho usually is hllnd wnen
he wants to be; but it would be quite
reprehensible for a woman to pretend
defective vision in similar circumstances.
So there is some consolation for
you Am I driving you away, Doctor?"
"By no means," rejoined Wilson, who
had risen at her question, and now stood
looking down upon her with a quizzical
light in his eyes. "I am only sorry I
? inntrer' hut vour sweenincr
UU.U liuu Ol U tvu0v*| v 4 w
accusation against the convenient blindness
of men reminds me (hat I have a
imtient waiting for me down the street;
and as that is a duty to which I can not
l>e Wind. I shall have to sity good-ni^ht.
I admit there is much justice in your remark.
Nevertheless, I hope that time
pa ay improve your opinion of us poor
Jhen. Brian, any moBonts yoo tafe fo
spare, remember and pity my lonely
6tate.*
"You don't deserve pity on that score,"
rejoined Brian, promptly. "You know
the remedy and refuse to apply it."
"Wilson laughed in answer, and saying
"Good-night," he left them.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A UNK FROM THE OLD LIFEAs
Margaret boped and expected,
Bertie put in an appearance two evenings
later?the same light-hearted, cheery
Bertie, with his never-failing goodhumor
and his almost inexhaustible
store of news and gossip, to carry her
back to her home and let her feel, in
Imagination at least, something of
old pleasures and interests.
Changes in a small place are always
omnifiAonf nnH of more general
UiV/lU Oi^uiuvwtiv v. _
interest than those in a great city,
where the identity of the individual is
lost in the great labyrinth of humanity,
and Margaret, whoso affection absence
had only increased, took a keen delight
in hearing not only of the friends she
had left but of even the slightest occurrence
about Elmwood and its surroundings,
and, In return, Bertie wanted to
hear about herself;
"This city air has not brought the
roses to your cheeks," he said. "I hope
you haven't developed such a fondness
for it that you will be sorry to come
back to us."
"Never, Bertie; my mind can never
even imagine such a possibility. In the
first place, I don't like New York, I?I
actually hate it, though I shouldn't tell
anyone but you; and, in the second
place, I love Elmwood dearly. Then
there are things I enjoy there which I
cannot have here; my rides, for one
thing. Occasionally I have a ride in
the park, but it isn't the same as at"
home. Here one must go at a certain
eait. and people ride awkwardly, too,
1 think. I suppose it is the fashionable
way, but it isn't half so graceful, to see
them pounding their saddles, ono might
say. It really tries me to look at them.
The park is beautiful, though. New
York may well be proud of it. I have
been around a great deal. Brian takes
me everywhere, and I usually enjoy the
places we visit."
"And Brian?" questioned Bertie, meeting
her eye.
Her head drooped slightly. Bertie
6aw the action. He left his chair and
came to her.
"Tell me, Margaret," he said, placing
his hand upon her shoulder, "it isn't so
hard for you to answer?"
"No," 6he replied in a low voice, "it
should not be so hard now. My heaH
has ached, oh, so terribly, and I have .
been hopeless and despairing, because I
was alone?so helplossly alone. Ah, I
* ' *" ? T KoTTfl
Know WIIUl VYUU1U OCA J . * uw>v
friends. Yes, such true. friends. Do
you think I ever doubted them, Bertie?
But you can understand that there are!
sorrows which none can share. Lately
I have been more encouraged. He has
left me so little, but last night he was
later than usual, and to-night he is?
not here?at all."
Her head drooped still lower and his
hand fell until it rested on hers with
a gentle, reassuring sympathy in its
touch.
"All may be right," he said with an
effort at consolation.
"Perhaps," 6he answered. "I can only
hope, and if it should not be, the disappointment
will be so bitter. Last night
he did not seem perfectly himself. 1
tried to believe I imagined it, but I am
afraid I showed something in my aotions.
I tried so hard, too?so hard nof
to let him see."
'"Why should you have tried?" cried
Bertie, pressing his lips hard. "Why
should you consider him? You have
feelings, too. Must they always be
outraged?"
Margaret raised her eyes at this
strong expression of his thoughts.
"I think women can't consider their
feelings, Bertie," she returned, with a
" n ft
Sign. IX BC&HT3 L<J IIIU nu Jiiavtvt
how hard or how bitter it may be, they
can never get beyond the range of duty.
I think we grow to be hypocrites in a
way. We are so often obliged to hide
our hearts. I know I have often smiled
my brightest when my eyes were burning
with tears I held back. I suppose
the baptism of sorrow must touch us
all, and I only hope that it may wash
out all that should not be in my life,
and make me braver and stronger for
what is to come. Are you leaving me,
Bertie? I'm afraid you find me very
doleful."
"I leave you, Margaret, to find him.
I cannot bear to sit here and hear you
talk and There; I'll act like a baby
next Margaret, you are a dear, brave
girl. Long ago, when "
"Before you thought I should grow
into such a sedate young woman," interrupted
Margaret, hastily. "We used
to fight gloriously in those days, didn't
we? Uncle fannied I should always be
a tomboy. I wonder if ne would recognize
me now?"
She finished with a sigh, and the light
words had held such deep meaning that
Bertie found it hard to meet the eyes
she raised so bravely to his.
"So Ion2 aso?" he said, half absently.
"Not quite six years since I first saw
you. I remember the day so perfectly.
You were just home from college, and
you had two cats tied together by the
tails. I thought you such a cruel boy.
Well, you want to go? I shall see you
again,"sha'n't I? You are like a breath
from Elmwood, Bertie."
"You will see me again, and 6oon,
Margaret. Now look me in the face
and promise me that the day shall never
come when you will cease to regard me
-as a brother. There; good-night; your
tears pain me. God forgive Brian; I
cannot."
Once upon the street Bertie walked
along, absorbed in thought. This brief
visit to Margaret had entirely unnerved
mm, ana ^seined wnoiiy incapable ol
any practical decision. When he arrived
in front of the Hoffman House he
run across Wilson, and feelinc rather
glad of this chance encounter he greeted
him warmly.
"Thi9 is really the first moment I
could call my own to-day," declared
Wilson, taking a cigar from tTie case
Bertie offered him. "Where is your
destination?" *
"I was just tryinpj to decide," wa9
Bertie's answer. "I dropped in to see
Margaret, and I haven't recovered from
the shock her appi-arunce gave ine yet.
I never saw her look more wretched and
ill, though I am inclined to thiuk the
cause is not entirely physical."
"No. Other influences at work. IIow
die. you leave her?"
"Alone," was the sententious reply.
"Alone," repeated "Wilson. "Then,
Brian ?"
"Is off disgracing himself," responded
Bertie with much anger. "He ought to
be thrashed.
Wilson's face grew very grave.
"1 had hope.l things might be better,"
he said, with a 6igh.
"They will never be better. I believe
Brian has lost his last grain of
manhood. He is worse than a coward.
If he had a heartless, selfish wife there
might be some reason, though never an
excuse for his actions. But now there
is absolutely nothing that one can say
for him. Ho is simply breaking Mar
caret's heart. If you had seen her a
year ago you could realize what a
change these last months have wrought
in her. It is his doing: all his doing.
After she has left her home, her friends,
and all she loves, for his sake. My
heart swells with indignation at the
inought. J k.uQW how jho loves Elm
wood, and dislikes Xew York. Yel
after all this, she'll continue to talk ol
duty. Women are enigmas; I give
them up. I'd like to thrash Brian,
though. It might possibly do hire
good."
"I can't understand him," remarked
Wilson, half absently.
"No, nor can any onoelse. He doesn'1
seem worth the understanding. I'll
have to find him somehow, and sent
t non't hftnr thfi thoiiffhr. n(
D1II1 IIULUC. * O
Margaret waiting in such anxious dread,
not knowing whether he is tumbling
about in the gutter or disgracing himself
in some other way. Are we at youi
quarters already? How fast we mus1
have walked! No; I can't come in tonight.
Some other time, old fellow
I'll have to make the round of the clut
houses, I dare say. Well, good-night.'
Bertie did not find Brian, as he hac
expected, in any of his probable haunts,
though he went to them all, anxiouslj
examined the sea of faces, and even
miAStinnAfl thf? Traitors and attendants,
Rather disheartened after this vaii
search, he scarcely knew where to gc
next. In his dilemma, he was in th<
act of turning a street corner when the
full glare of the street lamps fpllinj
upon a figure in front of him revealec
something very familiar in its outlines,
"Brian," he said, under his breath
Yes, Brian?walking with the uncertair
gait that only confirmed his fears. H<
thought of Margaret, and angry indignation
overpowered him; but this sam<
thought brought another, and under its
impulse he managed to control himself
With a few hasty strides he was bj
Brian'6 side, and, placing his banc
rather heavily upon * his shoulder, h<
asked, roughly:
"Where are you going? Come home?1
"Home?" repeated Brian, startled intc
understanding and- shrinking unde
Bertie's glance. "Home to face her'
Never. A few days ago I promised he:
I would not t; uch another drop. Yes
promised. A farce, wasn't it? Solemnly
promised, iou see me To-nignu <j<
home, you say. Go home to see he
shrink from me! To see her blush fo
me! To see Ah, heavens, no!"
These words made no impression ox
Bertie.
"Don't add villainy to cowardice," h<
said, with flashing eyes. "Come, I say
If you have no self-respect, remembei
her, and have at least the decency t<
hide your disgrace under your own roof
You shall not break her heart; you shal
not ruin her life. I'll shoot you first."
"Buin her life," echoed Brian, buryin;
his face in his hands. "My God, I dlt
not intend to ruin her life."
Bertie said no more. Perhaps evei
he felt some pity for Brian's eviden
agony, or perhaps he feared that wordi
now would express too much of the an
ger which burned within him. Then
are men who can never understand thi
depths to which others can fall.
Quite silent he walked by Brian, an<
only left him when the door had close<
upon him.
From her own room Margaret hear<
the faltering step, and knew that Briai
had corue, but even the great relief o
this knowledge did not bring her sleep
All night she tossed restlessly, her min<
? ? 1. 1 - J -.-.v.*. 1
a prey to miserauie uouuis ?uu iiupciooi
longings, and when morning came he
face told its own story.
[to be continued. 1
The Tsetse Fly.
The few travelers whose lot hag led
them through the lowlands of equatorial
Africa have most them reported
the tsetse fly as one of the most formidable
impediments in the way oi
colonization or even exploration ol
these regions. Wild animals and
human beings suffer only temporary
irritation from its attacke, but domestic
animals entering the fly districts
are seized in the course of a few days
with fever and wasting, and almost invariably
die. The tsetse is a dipter,
having a pale yellow abdomen and
gray, stripped thorax. It is rather
larger than the house fly. The mouth
parts form a powerful piercing beak.
From an account of the tsetse fly disease,
by Surgeon-Major David Bruce,
published in Nature, we iearn that
tl.n at loot hocn on otfpmnt. mftdf
to study the fly and its disease in a
thorough and scientific manner. As
far back as 1870 a Mr. St. Vineenl
Erskino endeavered to show that the
diseaBO was due solely to change oi
grass and climate. Since then several
other travelers have stated their belie]
that the fly was not injurions, or, al
any rate, that the ill effects of its bite
were mncb exaggerated. At last the
Natal Government has authorized Mr.
Bruce to thoroughly investigate the
tsetse-fly disease, and his paper is the
outcome of tlje first three months'
work. The Jesuits so far attained
seem to indicate not the action of n
specific viras, as was oripinally sup
posed, but the transmission by thf
tsetse fly of a bacterium or its prod
nets. The investigation is proceeding
along somewhat the same lines which
Dr. P. Manson is following in endeav
A
onng lO XritUb tuc jjiajuiuuiuuj
through the mosquito. A similar relationship
was traced some years age
between Texas fever, a disease of cat
tie, in which certain parasitic bodies
were found in the red blood corpuscles,
and the cattle ticks. Among the
new facts brought to light by Dr.
Bruce'e work, one of considerable importance
is the specific action which
arsenic seems to have on the disease
its administration causes a reductioi
in temperature, a maintenance of th(
normal number of red blood cells, anc
a disappearance of the heematozoi
from the blood.?Popular Science
Monthly.
Terrific Snake and Eel Fight.
North Carolina comes forward witl
afnrw nf a terrific Rnnks and ee
fight. The snake was a bull moccasii
about six feet long and two and a hal
inches in diameter. The eel was i
common yellow one, but of uncom
mon size. When first seen the tw<
sleek combatants were in shallow
water, both standing erect with tail:
twisted aronnd'roots. The snake hac
evidently attempted to swallow it
smaller opponent, but had found hin
a slippery and wiry foe. They sooi
came together again, however, and fo:
several minutes the water was churnei
as if by a side-wheeler. They formei
a corkscrew shaped column on th
water and each tried to sqneeze th
life out of the other. Finding thi
futile they commenced wrestling an<
the eel scored a victory, throwing it
opponent with ease. They both wen
under the water and were lost to sight
Presently something "a-panting am
a-blowing" was heurd making for th
shore, and to the astonishment of th
the thunderstruck spectators the snak
tnrew lisen out ox me water uuu ia
gasping for breath on the bank, i
glimpse was caught of the victoriou
eel as it turned, just before reachio
the bank and glided into its water
element. The snake was dispatched
and the spectators returned home t
tell the glorious news.?Atlanta Cos
6titution.
.TRAINING DOGS.
i *
; kindness will accomplish
MORE THAN FORCE,
[
Amusing and Marvelous Feats That
[ Are Taught to Clever Canines
[ ?The Kind of Dog Makes
t Little Difference.
? ~|
T^EW of the thoueandB of people
1=/ who wildly applaud the amusJ
ing, and at times almost mar~qT
velous, feats executed by per)
forming dogs have any idea of the
' time and patience required to teach
I the animals. A reporter for the New
> York Times was so fortunate as to run
across a veteran dog trainer who had
ju6t finished a successful European
[ season. A few questions brought out
> some most irteresting facts relative
i to educated dogs and dog educators.
> "It is a great mistake to 6nppose,"
I said this famous dog trainer, "that all
' dogs can be made to perform any
trick, however simple, successfully.
[ It is equally true?and too much em3
phasis cannot be put on the fact?that
. perhaps not one man in every five
thousand is fit to educate a dog. You
may laugh at this assertion, but it is
painfully true, nevertheless. First of
all, a man who intends to be successful
with dogs must really love the animals.
Dogs, far more than any dumb
brutes, are most susceptible to impressions
and kind treatment. Let a
dog once and for all understand that
you do not wish to hurt or harm him
and he will amply repay you for your
labor. I would under no conditions
have a dog handled by a man who did
have the kindest of dispositions aB well
as an almost inexhaustible amount of
ft rv w
h . J
i
^ A VERY DIFF
J patience. This given, let the work
begin.
j "Another illusion that the public
5 fondly clings to is that certain breeds
r of dogs are more tractable and easier
taught than others. This is nonsense.
Barring, perhaps, the poodle, which
breed has been used for circus purposes
longer tUan any other, almost
any other dog will do. When you
choose a dog you must beforehand
; J?
BALANCING ON A BOTTLE,
t
have made up your mind to what par?
ticular trick or tricks you intend to
train bim. A man in this business j
j must be thoroughly posted on the
peculiarities of each breed. It is beti
ter to take a very young dog, say a
puppy about six months old, for a
pupil. After such a puppy has overt
come its at first very natural timidity
; it develops an eager desire for rompi
ing and playfulness. Here is the op3
portunity of the dog trainer. He now
I begins a sort of dog kindergarten,
i utilizing the animal's disposition to
) play as the vehicle of instruction.
"Suppose, for instance, that yon
want the puppy to leap through a j
number of hoops. He is first taught
w ?nn offoi. ft ho 11 rnllpil .ilnnsr ihft I
i iiy iU" o
1 floor; this any dog will do spontani
eously, and cunnot exactly be called
f teaching. When the dog has brought
i the ball back a number of times, and
- gets thoroughly interested in the play,
> the first active step to make him leap
7 is prepared. The ball is rolled a few |
3 feet from the wall, alongside of which |
1 is a low, movable partition. The dog '
a runs in the space between, and, of '
i course, must return the same way he
i came. As soon as he reaches the lower
r end, one or two hoops or low hurdles
] are placed in his way. In his frislii- j
i ness the puppy rarely stops for such |
e apparent trifles, but, all eagerness to ;
get at the ball, guyly skips over or !
s through these obstructions. In this I
j| way he is encouraged find taught to
s take leaps, higher and higher, through
t any quantity of hoops, being rewarded
with a bit of cheese or lump of sugar
3 after any particularly successful pere
formance. This thing has to be ree
peated almost innumerable times, till
e the dog, at a certain word or motion,
? A Vtniif. ttlirrhtAKf,
y t'XUUULt'9 ilio basa nibuvMi. ~--0
\ hesitation or error.
i "Xow, such a thing ns this is simply
g the ABC of clog education. It is a
y totally (Liferent matter to make a dog
I, perform the most intricate tricks. The
p natural position of the animal is restl
ing on its four fest; any tricK in
which he is permitted to retain thia
.
position is comparatively easy to make i
him do. I have a fox terrier which I ]
have taught to roll a ball or a small i
cylinder in any direction?sidewise, ]
BOLIiDJO THE GLOBE.
back ward or forward. Now, the strangest
part of this trick?that that which
appears the very hardest is for the
dog evidently the easiest. He will get
up with his four feet on a ball not
much bigger than an ordinary toy
balloon and roll it everywhere, in
whatever direction you wish, with evident
pleasure and ease. But when he
has to put two paws, whether front or
hind, nn thn hall, and the other two
on the floor, he does not do it nearly
so well nor with any pleasure. This
is because the animal does not feel so
snre as when he stands with his four
e==? ?'f
ICULT TBICEL
feet pretty close together. This terrier
will roll a ball up or down a steep
incline, while standing on it, with
relish, bnt pat his ears back and look
frightened to death if he is told to
only use his forepaws in rolling it on
the level floor.
"While it is true that almost any
trick can be taught by persuasion, still
it is often necessary to use force.
When a dog feels or instinctively
knows that what he is being taught is
in no wise dangerous, he is very tractable,
and in most cases accomplishes
what his master wishes him to do.
When, on the other hand, you want
him to iearn a trick that really involves
danger, his dog reason, fully
equal to that of many of the human
race, quiokly and firmly rebels. It is
really pathetic to see a dog almost ask
you not to let him try such dangerous
experiments. If you persist, then
there is war. Here is where the dog
educator must bring his genius in
play. It is absolutely impossible to
make a frightened dog listen to reason.
You must first get him over
his fright and next his sulkiness.
To teach a dog to do the back somersault
while standing on the floor is
hard enough, but to teach him to do
the sama trick from a table or from
one chair to another is still harder.
Force has to be used, and a smart cut
of the whip at the critical moment will
do wonders. But it will take a very
long time indeed to make a dog perform
any trick that involves danger,
and when he does do it to perfection
any amount of credit is due to his
matter. A curious oircumstance in
this connection is that once an animal
has been taught fearlessly to oerform
i "L. ? :ii
& dangerous inuit ua >wu occmiugij
forget most if not all his easier ones.
Thus, I had a little dog which I finally
succeeded in teaching to do the back
somersault in the most approved
fashion. He would just oe lief do
tweaty as one, and did his trick with
a precision that was marvelous. To
my surprise, he was unable to do his
former simpler ones, such as leap
through a hoop covered with tissue
paper, and other easy tricks.
"It is not necessary and really does
' not pay to teach dogs any tricks that
require force. By persuasion you may
gee a multitude of various ones that
to the public are equallv interesting.
Teaching a dog to walk on his hind
legs is comparatively simple, and
TIIE CANINE SANDOW.
amply repays the trouble. A9 soon as
this is accomplished the combinations
to which this trick may be turned are
too many to be onumerated. Among
the most noted performing dogs in the
world may be mentioned a small poodle
which is a perfect marvel in his way.
Ho will walk up a staircase with eleven
steps, carrying a burning lamp on a
tray placed on his outstretchei front
paws. This is wonderful enough, but
after he reaches the little platform his
master recieves the lamp and then
after effeotionatoly patting this almost
human dog, be sends mm down again.
The poodle then stands on his front
paws with his hind legs way up in the
air, the burning lamp is placed on his
head, and the dog walks down ten steps
without permitting the lamp to fall.
Another dog of the same breed is
called the canine Sandow; he lifts
weights, uses dumbbells, and finally
lifts a large cannon, which is discharged
while he holds it hanging in a
6trap from his mouth.
"Another star in the canine world
is a dog belonging to Mme. Dnre.
This animal, whose name is Dick, has
set Paris wild with his clever performances.
His mistress has taught him
to do the skirt and the serpentine
dance, and he rivals Loie Fuller in
popularity. This dog was sufficient
to pack Theatre des Nouveautes with
his wonderful tricks. His mistress
arrays him in a magnificent robe or
gown of flimy tulle, which is cut in
the latest fashion. By cleverly arranging
the dress around the front
paws of the dog and fastening very
light wires behind, the ekirt is held ir
position. The orohestra strikes aj
^ . &>*.
A-REAL DOG CAST.
the Loie Fuller waltz, and Dick gracefully
bounds upon the stage, always
standing on his hind legs; after his
most graceful bow to the spectator!
he begins to dance, and his gyrations
~~~ ~ oV?n?f nf fVio trnnr?Arfnl.
UXV C* liVViW OUWA V V* VMW .. I
The electrio lights are tamed on, giving
the color effects the same as iz
Salome, and Dick waves his paws and
swings nis skirts in the most bewitching
fashion possible. Dogs as a rale
detest to be dressed up, but when thej
have overcome this aversion they maj
be induced to represent anybody then
owner wishes to caricature.
"The chief things to remember
when training dogs, or any other animal
for that matter, is that gentleness
and kind treatment will always beai
the best results. Always celect t
healthy, handsome puppy, and star!
right in teaching some trick. Thic
must be kept up till the animal reallj
performs his duty automatically, anc
only constant practice will make thif
possible." ^
Fiercer Than Lions or Leopards.
It always appeared to the write!
that Sutton, the hoad keeper of thf
Zoo, treated lions and some male
tigers as if they were dogs, while ali
the lionesses, the leopards, pumas anc
most tigers were treated as cats,
Lionesses he never ^toucned with hit
hand, and leopards, exoept the sno^
leopards, very seldom; oat some oj
the tigers and the male lions behaved
in their dealings with him exactly ai
if they were domesticated animals.
Bears, he maintained, always became
unsafe to handle after they were full
grown, thongh often tame and friendly
when cubs. Polar bears, on the
other hand, he looked apon as always
dangerous and quite untamable, baving
a kind of incurable levity which
makes them absolutely without respect
or fear for man, even when they
are kept in captivity. In the case of
the larger cats, age and ill temper do
not necessarily increase together.
In all the years spent in the care of
the large carnivora, he never received
an injury. Yet, though never hnrt
by the bears or lions, he was nearly
killed by a zebra. The correct faots
of this curious incident are as follows:
The zebra, which was known to be
very savage, was turned out into the
" * ^ f jin
yard, toe ending uuur uc IMTWJA HUU
yard and its stall being poshed to, bat
not fastened by the man whose dnty
it was to do so. Sattoa was in the inner
stall, patting in fresh hay, when
the zebra heard him. He also heard
it trot ap to the door, and the next
moment he saw its mnzzle poshed
against the crack which had been lefl
between the edge oi the door and the
post. It slid the door back in a moment,
ran in, and, stooping its head,
seized him below the knee and threw
him violently on his back. It held or
to his leg, biting so severely that it
cracked his shin bone, thoagh Sotton,
who was lying on his back kicked
hard with the other foot. The other
men drove it off with stable forks, bal
the keeper was laid ap for thirteen
weeks from the effects of the bite.?
The Spectator.
Chinese Sew Testament.
The American Bible Society has obtained
a fac simile of the New Testa
ment, which translated into unt
Chinese language, was presented tc
the Empress Dowager of China on the
occasion of the celebration of her sis
tieth birthday. The original book if
royal quarto size, 10x13x2, is printec
with the largest of movable metalli<
type, bound in silver boards, while
nround each page is a border of gold.
The volume in the possession of the
American Bible Society is bound iu
black morocco, and birds and bamboc
in relief adorn the pages instead ol
gold. In all other respects, however,
it is a duplicate of the Empress Dowager's
copy.?New York Advertiser.
The Tugs of >'ew Yorfe.
There are about 300 local tugs in
New York Harbor and about 200 pas
senger steamboats. The Supervisoi
of tne harbor estimates that they pro
duce about 500,000 cubic yards oi
ashes annually. The War Department
is seeking to establish bettei
plans than exist for the disposition of
this material, so that the regulations
prohibiting the dumping of it in the
waters of the harVor may be more effectually
enforced.?New York Times.
The transatlantic steamship Lucania
established a record of 562 knots foi
one day's sailing during her last voyage.
Twenty-five wagon loads of immigrants
have just arrived in the Big
Hnrn nountrv. Wvomins:.
THE TOV/ER AT TTBEE. I
Built*by the United States as a P?-B
tense Against Great Britain.
One of the objects which invariably
attract the interest of voyagers ap-'H
proaching Savannah by sea is the tinyfl
round tower a few hundred feet difl-M
tant from the lighthonse at Tybeo^l
^ I
Ill
to web at ttbbb.
1 | Island, on the Georgia side. With the
' | aid of a good pair of marine glasses
' ! the tower can be described as built of
j stone and apparently hoary with age.
Indeed, the native Georgian has no
> ; greater pleasure than to pour into the
' j astonished ears of Northerners the
| , tale that it was ereoted by the Spanish
' about the same time as the structure
at St. Augustine. Bnt the hard and1
rather unpoetio facts of the cass are)
that the United States Government
built the place as a defense against
the British in 1812, tome eighty-four'
years ago.
It is termed, in military parlance, aMartello
tower, being oopied from;
- - s -i i.L.1
, similar defenses ereoiea aioag mai
, English coasts when Napoleon waa]
I threatening to invade Britain. The*.
tower saw some little active service in I
' the Civil War, but, of course, was even}
( ; then not more dangerous or stronger;
. than a stone dwelling.. , j
I At present it is used as a reporting t
and signal station, and during the'
| ' bathing season it is a favorite visiting
place for the guests of the fashionable,
[ ! hotels at Tybee Beach, the noted
Southern seaside resort. There are
, i few objects on our coasts more strik- i
. i ing and pioturesque than the tower at
? - - ? ?? i?
, j Tybee, and it only laoss a iew xegouuD|
' ; of Spanish possessions, sieges, eto., to
make it famous. :
,i -- !
3 How an Antelope Kills a Rattlesnake.
f | One of the worst foes the rattle-!
k snake ever had on the Western prairies j
: I was the antelope. This wary animal,j
i ; allied to the deer species, is extremely:
r ! timid and so afraid of man that onlji
[ the best hunters could ever bag one,'
i j But they had no fear of the rattler,
ot.^ TrVion orip nf tbfi rentiles was en
UUU TTUWM WMW w* ?
countered it was speedily dispatched.
The method of the antelope in
, making war on the serpent was uniqnej
3 and heroic. The antelope walked
> around the snake a few times awaiting
[ j a favorable opportunity. When it
1 came there was a quick bound and the,
, I sharp hoofs of the antelope came'
I , down with deadly effect on the body
' | of the snake. With movements as
! j rapid as thought the antelope jumped:
[ | out of danger only to spring back on'
i its victim again and again until the!
,,-body of the snake was cut into mince-'
i meat.
[ j Old hunters say that it was rarely,
> that an antelope was bitten in such an
i , encounter with a rattler, and the
i ; snake was always killed unless it found
> ANTELOPE VERSUS RATTLESNAKE.
a convenient prairie dog's hole int^H
which it could crawl. The ehar^J
i hoofs of the antelope cut like knive^H
and after being struck once or twi<^H
the reptile was too badly injured
-? ?? offortti'irA rfinifitaiice. |9
[ UUCl auj VMVW?* w
A Lizard That Dances.
One of the interesting little anima^H
that live in far-away Australia is tl^H
dancing lizard. This cnrioas ch&p^H
about three feet in length and we&rs^H
pretty collar made for him by Moth ^|
Nature. This collar is of a bright re^H
yellow and blue mixture and is big an^H
) full of frills. He gets his name froi^H
> his collar and is called the frille^H
3 lizard. He's not a bit pretty and h^H
has a way of jumpiug around tha^H
i gives one a peculiar fright if one haj^H
1 pens upon him suddenly. Althoug^D
this frilled chap has four legs, h^H
) seem3 to like walking and dancing o^H
his hind legs better than traveling o^H
i all fours. He's as quick as
i in bis movements, and lives on
> insects that inhabit the trees of tb^H
thick wood?. He could become
(lancing master if he was bigger an^H
would conduct himself with great^^H
ease. We can forgive the frilled lizai^H
almost anj of his pranks, but we can^H
forgive him his long name, which AM
chlamydosaurus kingi. Now, what
you think of that?
A Once Popular Singer.
I Does any one remember a wonde^^B
ful boy soprano named Richard Cok^^f
who thirty years ago startled
York and began as a chorister
, Trinity Church and ended by sing^Ha
, at Buckingham Palace? When IBB
grew up he adopted the name of
Rosa, developed a baritone voice,
berited a fortune and is now adva^|H
ing toward middle life and Uv^Hh
quietly in London.?San Pranci^^H
Chronicle.
Tidal, one of the most fam^^H
sculptors of France, was stone
at the time when he executed som^HH
hie most famous works.
I