The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, November 07, 1900, Image 6
' "fflE KING
( _^HONE
* ' A NOVEL OF AMERICAN LIFE
BY MAURICE!
cocrricbt, 18?2 and 18P3 t
CHAPTER XVI.
2N* THE RAIh\
"Do yon know me?"
"Ta! Yes, how do you do?"
It was evident tbnt Mr. Vernon was
trying hard to cast oft' surprise aud
appear quite at ease; but lately he
had been finding this more difficult
than he was willing to acknowledge.
His mind had been disturbed, and
pne burning suspicion was falling
deeper and deeper into his heart.
^onid not iuet then fairly under
r stand why to see Burns standing before
him should startle him so. True,
/ the old man's face and form were
/ clothed upon with au indescribable
suggestion of weirdness; but to amau
like Mr. Vernon this could not be a
source of mental disquiet; it was not
Specially observed on the moment.
"I hope that you and your family
have been well and happy since the
~ "t*?ie of your great kindness to me,"
said Burns, offering his hand, which
Mr. Vernon felt to be like ice when
ho touched it.
Not the chill wind nor yet the almost
numbing rain could account for
the singular shiver and repulse which
came out of that hand-clasp into Mr.
Vernon's blood. It was like touchingthe
flesh of a corjise, only it was fur
colder. On the old wanderer's cheeks
burned hectic spots.
"Yes?yes, we are all very well?
yes, very well. I am glad to see yon
again, sir. The ladies will be proud
tn iiftvft von come. Whv haven't you
been to the house?"
'*1 have been often tfat could not
' get in. Your man thinks I'm a beggar."
"Ta! I'll teaph him better."
EvidentiV, the presence of Burns,
while not exactly an annoyance to
Mr. Yernon was by no means a pleasure.
. Aside from any effect produced
upon him by 4iv-apparition so unexpected,
and taking no account of the
startling expression of the old preachv
er's strangely emaciated face and cotfcentrated
gaze, there was something
inopportune, out-of-place and unwelcome
in the sudden meeting. We
have moments when any index to our
past is unbearable. Mr. Yernon was
constrained; his manner and voice
were unnatural.
Burns eyed him a moment, then
said:
"No. Don't bother with it. I am
a beggar, a tramp, and I do not wish |
to disturb a bajjpy family. What 11
want is easily told."
"Speak it, my dear sir, speak it; it
is already yours." '
Mr. Yernon was still holding that
clammy hand and looking firmly and
kindly^ albeit with a sort of artificial
expression, into Burns's deep-sunken
and inflamed eyes.
"No, that is a polite lie. Wait till
I make my desire known, then see if
you can be generous."
"Ta! I see you are ill. Come in
and have some wine."
"I drink nothing but water. I am
not ill. I am well and strong and
shall reach my goal soon."
"I am glad to hear it, sir?very
glad, indeed.
Mr. "Vernon wanted to shake him
off for the present and go into the
club-room of the Chats-Huants; he
wanted to see Colonel Loring again;
but Burns would not be abandoned.
"I am close on the track of Pierre
Rameau," he said, "and I want your
help. Turn your hand for me now,
and I have him."
Mr. Vernon stood silent, and a j
peculiar shadow crept over his face.
"A.b, I see you are quite prompt, |
quite ready!" exclaimed Burns, after \
a mere moment. The irony was
merciless.
"What do you mean, sir?" demanded
Mr. Vernon. A gray film of passion
or of some other deep feeling
crept over his cheeks above the beard.
"Bah! Where were you going just
now?" demanded Burns, as if with
authority.
"Sir!"
"I can tell you. You were going
upstairs, in there, to the room of the
Chats-Huants, to meet Pierre Rameau,
the robber.
"Sir!"
"You know tliat it is so."
"It is not true?it is "
"Don't be angry. Stop and think.
Stop and turn about. I like you; I
owe my life to you. I would save
yours now. Don't go in there."
Two or three suspicious-looking fellows
came near and acted as if they
were trying to overhear what was i)eing
said. Perhaps they -thought it
was a quarrel that would end in a
fight, the most interesting thing in the
world to Buch characters.
Burns, like the Ancient Mariner,
was holding his auditor with his glittering
eye. The wedding-guest was
not more enthralled than was Mr.
Vernon, albeit the latter turned
abrnptly aud would hear no more for
the moment. He could'not, however,
tear himself loose from the old man,
who followed him and stepped again
in front of him, now laying his hand
on his top-coat's lapel and thrusting
his eager, cadaverous lips close, to his
oai.
"Come aside somewhere, only for a
minute. Don't stay here?for heaven's"
Bake, don't!" be exclaimed, in a shrill
whisper. "The time is at baud!
Vengeance i9 mine! Come! I hear
them approaohiug."
While he spoke, he was fairly forcing
Mr. Vernon along, leading him
way from the door of the restaurant.
About this time, a young man rode
. down the street at a -.?'ft pace and,
flinging himself from lit- "addle of his
1 beautiful horse, rau into the place,
leaving the animal standing uuhitched
- and unattended. A little later Colonel
Iioriug came out, mounted and rode
away.
So intent was Burns in his effort to
draw Mr. Vernon aside, he did not'
jiotico this incident. Out slipped the
Chats-Haante. one by one, two by
k: ^ k - -*
. . ' I
> OF;^
Y ISLAND
: DURING THE WAR OF 1812.
THOMPSON.
y F.obcrt Bonner'# Son#.
two, quickly, silently, scattering and
disappearing as if by magic.
A little later, a company of mounted
soldiers swept round a sorner ami deployed
in front of the building. Of
course, they were too late to make
the capture they had intended, and
when they leaped from their horses,
pistols in hand, end rushed in, they
discovered that their bird had flown.
The clatter of hoofs as they came up
attracted Burns's attention. He lot
go his hold and turned.
"In there! In there!'* he cried,
leaping forward. "Up the stairway
to the right! Follow me!"
Ho led the way with incredible
nimbleness for one so old and fraillooking.
A lcng, keen knife flashed
in his hand.
The rush was over in a minute,
Doors were dashed open or kicked off
their hinges, and the rooms above
and below were searched without
ceremony.
Mr. Vernon stood looking on, apparently
quite calm. He had seen
Colonel Loring go, and now he comprehended
the whole affair. It had
been well planned and well executed,
notwithstanding the outcome. But
for the faithful spy at Jackson's headquarters
and the swift courier sent in;
the very nick of time, Loring would
have been taken.
"I said all the time that the old
fool was crazy," growled the officer
who had led the dash. "The whole
story was absurd."
"Yes, sir," replied the subaltern
whom he addressed, "it was indeed a
fool's errand. Storming a junk-shop
and led by a ragamuffin!"
They were coming oat of the building,
disappointed and vexed, ashamed
of the part they had been forced to
play in a scene so like a* farce.
"You'd better1 go home and soak
your head, old maul" added one of
them, turning With brutal severity
and addressing Burns. "I s'pose
you've been drunk for a month."
The old man paid do attention to
the remark^did not even glance at the
speaker, but walked forth into the
street and awav, with his chin on his
breast and his kiiife in hie hand.
He overtook Mr. "^ernon, or rather
they camo together when the latter
emerged from a side street a block or
two distant from the scene just witnessed.
The rain was still slanting
along the wind in a fine drizzle;
Burns looked pinched and blue. Without
d word, Mr. Vernon drew off hjs
top-coat and hung it over the old
man's shoulders.
"Put awa^ your knife," he said.
''You will need it."
Burns obeyed mechanically, hiding
?i?~
It DUUIOWUCVO 1U HAD UUOUUi. JU?A'
dently he was but vaguely aware of
what he was doing. His vision was
introverted, his feelings were numbed.
"You will come home with me now,"
Mr. Vernon added, taking him gently
by the arm. "We will have dinner."
Burns looked up quickly with a
glance of suspicion or, perhaps, of
deeper meauing. . "No,"
he said, "I will not.".
Farther words on the subjeot were
shut off by the peremptory tone and
manner. They walked on a little way
in silence, hearing the surface-water
bubble in the gutter beside the trottoir.
Few people were in the streets;
bat the gambling-rooms were full,
the coffee-houses noisy.
Suddenly Mr. Vernon closed his
grasp more firmly on Burns's arm
and, looking into his face said with
the force of a command:
"Tell me, is Colonel Loring Pierre
Rameau?"
Burns started at the mention of the
latter name.
"You know Pierre Rameau; I know
you do," he answered, elowly drawing
out his words. "He calls himself
Colonel Loring here in fhe city;
but you know that he is Kirk MacriollfirinrV*
orvn nf .Tqtiq M anHnllAn orh
whose husband was Thomas MacCollougb,
the traitor, who was-banished
nearly forty years ago.
There was a horrible leer in the
old preacher's eyes. It was the same
glare that had been in the eyes of the
vultures when they sailed low over
him during those dreadful days in the
woods. Behind his words there
stretched an infinitude of significance;
it was as if each syllable echoed back
to some far date and stirred up long
buried sentiments. Mr. Vernon
stopped short in the street and held
him as in a vise.
"What are you saying?" he demanded
hoarsely. "What do you
know about Thomas MacCollough and
Jane MacCollough? Who are you?"
Burns did not speak forthwith.
"Ta! You are crazy!" Mr. Yernon
add^d, thrusting him away with such
force that he almost fell into the gutter.
But there was no anger in the
act.
"Yes, I am crazy," the old man said,
when he had regained his equilibrium,
"aud you ought to be."
At this moment came a curious ex- i
change of glances between them. It
t as like a quick ackuoweldgemeut of
& common thought, pang burdened
f.nd unwelcome to one, a matter of
hopeless indifference to the other.
Mr. Vernon picked up the top-coat,
which had fallen from Burns's shoulders,
and replaced it. with geuile
care.
"I knew Jane MacCc'.longh," ha
said; "she was Jane Alexander before
she was married."
"Yes."
"And you said she had a sod?"
"Yes; Kirk?Colonel Luring?
Pierre Rameau. These three are one."
"Vou know this?"
"You know it."
They stood there in the rain and
searching wind, the water dripping
from their hat-brims and their gray
locks tossing about. Mr. Vernou
combed his abundant beard with his
fingers. i
Buvus came closer to him.
"I think I had best tell vou," he i
./ 53^:, 7
' I
)
said; "for, after all, yon ought to '
know."
"I know already," Mr. Vernon !
calmly replied, "all that you can tell
me and more."
"No, not all. Kirk MacCollough's
last?no, not exactly last, nor
yet bis worst, but one of his acts you !
have no account of.^ I will tell you." i
Then the old man described his j
meeting with Pierre Rameau in tho
Pearl-River country and tho cold- |
blooded event of it. He showed no j
senile garrulity in delivering him- I
self. Indeed, the blunt thrust of his
sentences "gave an awful realism to his
etory.
"I felt that it was beat to tell you," !
he added at the end, with something
like a suggestion of regret or apology j
for the infliction.
"Oh, certainly!" said Mr. Vernon, j
The coolness of this remark, not i
far removed from sheer indifference, j
seemed to excite .Burns inordinately,
and, as if in retaliation, he begtfn at ;
once to tell what Rameau had said re- j
garding the fate of Margaret, and con- |
sciously with great cunning or uncon- :
sciously with supreme feeling he- pre- j
sented the absolute dramatic spirit, of
the terrible deed.
Mr. Vernon stood in an attitnde of
stark attention.- The story was
quickly told with few gestures and in
a low tone. j
"But?but?" Burns hesitated a |
moment as ho was concluding, gazing \
fixedly the while?"though you saved \
my life, though I would all but die j
for your and yours, I cannot spare
him?I cannot spare him even -for
you!"
Mr. Yernon wrung water from h;3 i
beard and stood silent. The rain j
was soaring his clothes, but he ,did j
not feel it. .. ';
A little later the two., old men >
parted, Burns refusing-to accompaay i
the other any farther jor to accept any :
aid from him. Unconsciously, how- i
ever, he wore away Mr, Vernon's com- |
fortable top-coat. '
At Chateau d'Or, meantime, Paul- ;
ine and her mother were discussing a
subject which mothers and daughters :
have busied themselves with sip ue the '
first day that love' and marriage .were
lifted to a true sanctity in human J
households. Fairfax had just gone |
away; and Pauline, with true French
impetuosity, an inheritance from
Madame Vernon, ran to that warm-'
hearted woman and flung herself into-1
her arms. The act interpreted'itself,
for the mother knew everv movement
of her child and its meaning. She
had expected this and was glad of it,
and yet she felt a thrill that was more
than half a pang as' she clasped the
lithe, quivering form and began pas- j
sioaately to kisB the bloqming lips ;
And cheeks. She felt hot tears dropping
from ihogitl's eyes.
""Bat he is going to the army,"'
Paulin6 sobbed. "Going right away
to fight!" <
"And your father, too, is going." j
said Mrs. Vernon, stroking her bright !
hair, soothingly. "Wo must be as
brave as they." .
In the midst of her distress, whicli
waft 00 largely joy, Panline felt a distinct
satisfaction in th'e parallel implied
"by her mother's remark. It wa3
as if she had BafSl "My dearest one,
too, is going to join the army. If I*
can let mine go, you can let yours go.
We are quite on &n equality in the
the matter." The comfort in this !
leveling and blending suggestion fray :
Lave been remote and obscure to a
degree; but it was nevertheless un- j
mistakable.
"But they will bo killod! Thef j
will be brought* back dead!" Pauline j
continued, putting a hand on each j
side or tier motner s lace auu gaziug
through her tears. > ,
'We'll hope not. We'll pra^ for j
their safety, my dear. God takes care j
of us all. He keeps our beloved ones
for us."
. "Our beloved one6!" The phrase
was like a sweet chime in Paulino's
ears. 1
"But why must war come just now,
mamma, dear? Just now?juBt now
when we are so happy!" v'
"Men must fight, you know; it is
their glory. And we poor women must j
wait aud pray." ,
A servant announced 'Mademoiselle
de Sezanues, who soon appeared, still ,
muffled in her carriage-cloak, with a .
touch of the rain on her jolothos. Her |
beauty was much heightened by her j
air of excitement. She had come to j
Pauline for comfort in her distress, j
Lieutenant Ballanche had been sent I
down the river in command of a scout- j
ing party detached by order of Gen- |
eral Jackson.
,(to be continued.)
Mr. Dooley Defines a Poet.
The Archey Road Literary Club wa?
holdiug a meetingafc Molly Donahue's,
and Mr. Donahue and Mr. Dooley engaged
in an analytical discussion of
poets and poetry:
"Why shud men, grown men,-write
pothry?" Mr. Donahue demanded,
with a great show of spirit.
"Well,".said Mr. Dooley, "'tisthis
way with thini. A pote's a man with
something to say thabhe hasn't thought
out. Now, ye'er in a way, Malachi, >
a pote. When ye'er at homo bustin' |
to expriss yerself, an' not knowin' ex- (
actly what it is ye want to say, or how j
ye ought to say it if ye knew, ye have j
th' raakin's iv a pote inyo. Ye neeun't j
look savage. Ye'll niver be wan while j
.ye feel sthrong about your throubles.
A pote doesn't feel really bad. He on'y
thinks he does. He's able to find
wurruds to pour out his heart in, an'
more thin that he's able f'r to cut up
th' 'wurruds into proper len'ths an'
have thim fit into each other like j
matched fiurin'. Think iv a man |
sittin down witn a woiiu passion 12 1
his hear-rt an' thryin' to measure it }
with a pocket-rule! Th' man that's j
rale mad, that's mad clcar through, I
can't speak plainly. Ho splutfern as j
you do, avick. That's wan reason |
I'm agin pothry. There ar-re other
reasons, but that's wau iv them. But
we've got to take ivcrything in life,
th' good with th' bad. Iveryman that
r-reads must r-read his peck iv pothry." !
?The Anthor of "Mr. Dooloy," in tho !
Ladies' Home Journal.
During the last twelve months at i
least a dozen elephant trainers have \
been killed?more than have been
killed in a dozet^-years previous.
Tho first law in tartans is that every 1
rtripe, of whatever breadth or colors,
must be tho sam9 in botb tha length
and breadth of the web
r
J.
I WBT THE TRAMP IS Tl
I EAILEOADS' HK
ONE of the greatest sources of
annoyance and perplexity to
every railroad superintendent
' the "hobo." The members
of this easy-going gentry have selected
the road cf steel as a natural successor
for their purposes to the "king's highway"
of a century and a half ago. It
is stated on good authority that the
various railway lines of the country
spend each year more than a million
dollars in attempts to keep their lines
free from tramps.
It is easy to understand, says the
New York Herald, why the "hobo"
prefers the railways to the highways.
Jn the first place, they offer the most
direct routes between towns, and, in
spite of beliefs to the contrary, the
genuine "hobo" prefers not to stray
any further than id necessary from
those centres of population. It Is
easier to count ties than to pick one's
??Att/?Vi +Vin nhrtot'f n intloc nf
>vn,y iuiuu^u tuu uuv?i vuiuv*w v>.
country dirt roads. The railroad is
never muddy in wet weather nor very
dusty in the dry season. Moreover,
there Is r.lways the alluring possibility
of stealing a ridfc on the trucks, the
"blind baggage" or within the friendly
shelter of some box car.
"VV.-ile the railway is a great boon to
the members of the genus hobo, it cannot
be said that the reverse Is true.
In fact, so great a dislike do the railway
officials show to the free and indiscriminate
use (f 1'ieir property that
they spend .thousands of dollars in emplo3'lng
men to drive the tramps off
trains'and.away from the line.
A single line of railway?one of the
more important companies?spends upward
of;'$40,000 every year In fighting
tramps,JaEfd it is probabje that most of
the tbjsjpgh lines pay out not less than
apfece In attempts to keep their
*rao*Tciear of these unwelcome travelfirs.
If these men. are drjven off 6ne train
they catch onto tMfe* next that comes
along. If they are sent to the penitentiary
they, se^ve their terms arid return
tMrtWfkl ' l%AaHn/v At*
IU Hit? JL~U~?U? (UiiUUUi. vi vcutiug vi
Jmprigonment serves to discourage'
th'em'.v and the problem of dealing with
them is a source . of continual perplexity'to
.rati way official^
The use of the railways by pie inveterate
hoboes menaces not alone the
BEADING SIGNS OK BOX CARS.
property of the companies themselves,
but also the peace and security of tee..
it >?r2.U_. >
sections rnrougn wuien tueyr-puss,
which is practically the same ,as saying
of the whole country. On this point
the opinion of an expert is available,
and is interesting as showing how the
present lax system of policing the railway
lines , tends to. .keep filled the
ranks of/#the vagrant and criminal
classes. Mr. Josiah Plynt, who has
sp?nt many years among tramps stu-'
dying theii*. ways and habits, says:
"All the great railways are spending
thousands of dollars on their 'detective'
forces, as they call them, and
they are all overrun bv mobs of ne'er
do wells and criminals. There are no
worse shims In the country than are
to be found on the railroads. Refdrm-.
ers and soiinl agit s are accustomed
to speak of the congested districts of
the large cities as the slums to which
attention should be directed, but in the'
most congested quarters of New York
City there are no greater desperadoes
nor worse scenes of degradation than
may be met on the "iron highways" of
AU. C11.4.An A /vf foil
lilt; UillltJU OUUC9. A UUUiUCi Vi &anroads
are recognized bj' vagrants and
criminals as the stamping ground of
particular gangs that are generally
found on the lines with which their
sanies are connected. V
"Take the Lake Shore and Michigan
' Southern1 Railroad, for exainple. For
NIGHT BATTLF. 1
several years a mob of cutthroats nn<l
'hold up' men, called the 'Lake Shore
Push,' were operating on that property.
The hangman's noose and long
': I .
B BIG I
r EXPENSIVE PATRON. 1
d
L ?1X1 IvLQXl 1*1 ?l$^Xl^Cli*iIvl ??
sentences to the penitentiary have
weakened the gang and removed its
terrors, but originally It was a strong
criminal combination.
"The men had no leader or organization
in the strict sense of the word,
but they were bound together, as well
as criminals and thugs can be, by the
determination to keep the Lake Shore
Railroad, from the outcasts' point of
view, in their own hands, and there
have been times when it was all a
man's life was worth to be caught by
thegang on a freight train. They had
made up their mind that a syndicate
of ruffians was as appropriate and like
ly to succeed as any otjier kind of syndicate,
and for several years they levled
toll. In the shape of money or any*
thing else of value that they could get,
on all sjrange wanderers found on the
property which they had picked out*?
If. a mnn whnm
"they located beating bis way on a
freight car' refused wto pay toll they
pummelled him until be acquiesced in
their demands, and then, if tbey happened
to be drunk, they were as likely
as not to throw 'blni off the train.
Only a few of ,tbe' flfriginal gang a*e
alive or free to-day,, but it still behooves
a mafi beating bis way on the
Lake' Store to'be on the lookout for
men of their stamp.
"Besides holding up tramps they also
robbed freight "pars, and I doubt
whether any other gang in the country
ever brought to such perfection this
kind of thieving. The robbery generally
took place at night when the train
was going round ft* curve. Two of the
gang would baard the train before' the
curve was^eacb&Jit^rryin^ with them
a rope la'daer wjiieh.'Osuld he fastened
to the rtinninj^ffpard on the/top of the
car to4^"?t6bbed. ..On! of the. men
sawt .to jt thai the ladder did not^sllp,
and thtf other' climbed down to The
side door of the car, broke the '86^1,
opened the door, and threw out on the
ground as much plunder as he thought
could be carried away, the same being
-picked up later by the rest of tho gang
scattered along the track. Tho two
men would jump off the train as soon
as it slackened Its speed sufficiently
to allow them to do so. rejoin the
push,' and help in disC#buting the
plunder among the 'fences' in pelght
boring cities."
The method generally wdopted by
the railway companies in ridding their
lines of tramps, and the one which is
being followed by the Central road at
the present time is that. o? scaring the
great number of hoboes away from
the line by making examples of a fewof
thejr number.' The Central employs,
on its Hudson River division four de
lecuves wuu are euipuncicu w
arrests in any county of the gtote
through which the line extends.
These men are the general officers of
the 4etect{ve force, and in the performance
of their duty they are able
to call upon other railway employes
who hold local commissions in the various
towns along the line. Since the
order was issued to use more stringent
efforts in getting rid of the tramps
those detectives and their local assist
:ints fin ve been exceedingly busy. Be- '
ginning at the southern <>iul of the <li- 1
vision they have worked their way to4'
ward Albany, riding ou freigLt traintf
going.through the yards in the different
towns and raiding the hoboes'
camps along the railroad property with
the aid of the local police force in the
different places. Half a hundred
tramps have been arrested and sent to
jail, and a number of their established
camping spots along the iirfb have
been broken up.
The problem of dealing with this
nuisance is a less serious one for the
Eastern roads than it is for those of
the West. In the first place, in this
part of the country the tramps are distributed
over a great many lines. In
the second place, towns are closer together,
and it is always possible to
*urn the hoboes over to local magistrates
to be dealt with. In the West,
however, where the towns are further
apart, the question of what to do witjU
the hobo after he is caught is often a
grave and difficult one, and some of
the Western roads have adopted the
policy of permitting the tramps to ride
undisturbed onVheir freight trains so
long as they do not interfere with the
ranroau property or oieui nit* una.
The tramps themselves are well aware
as to which lines have adopted this
- policy, and they are to be found in
great numbers along, all these ronds.
It Is a well-known fact among their
fraternity that the railways will not
pnt them off trains In passing over
the Rocky Mountains or across the
Southern desert. The lines in these
sections have suffered sovinuch from
flres started by tramps that, had been
put off trains that they prefer to
carry them as free freight rather than
to have mileB of their property destroyed.
One of the easiest "lays," in
tramps' parlance, to be found in the
country is that extending from Texas
to Southern California, or from Den
METHOD OF BOBBING A BOX CAB.
ver to Salt Lake City, so far as beating
one's way Is concerned.
It Is estimated on good authority
that there are no less than 100,000 professional
hoboes in the United States.
These men travel from end to end of
the country over the railroad lines,
and live uy preying upon the property
of the companies or upon the people
who live along the roads. The cost of
unwillingly supporting them amounts
to hundreds of thousands of dollars
every year, but thus far no way has
been fourd to successfully suppress
them.
Snored in the Wrong: Key.
The night clerk of a leading hotel of
| Washington, D. C., says thS^ast wintor
a Southern Congressman came to
him and demanded that his room be
changed. When asked what displeased
JJ1 iilf lit" it'imuu, au^iiij . ti v.M .
German musician iu the next room
and I don't get along well. Last night
he tooted away on his clarionet so
that I thought I never should go to
sleep. After I had caught a few winks
I was awakened by a pounding at my
door. 'What's the matter?' I asked.
'If you please,' said the.German, "dot
you vould schnore of dor same key.
You vas go from B flat to G, and if
spoils der moosie.' "?Argonaut.
The Evaporatloh ot Tree*. *
Some curious facts concerniugN^ee*
have been discovered. A single ^tifc
of good size is said to ,11ft 123 tyus
of water during the mftiths it is iu
leaf. This moisture is evaporated '
i and rises to form rain clouds. From
this estimate of the labor of a single
oak we can gain some i#ea of the lin- \
mouse fon***VlifHWlie*'forests e:;ert (
in equalizing the evapowfi^A^preeipitntion
and preventih)j9im|H^>l
inundation and drought.?Cineuli^>
Enquirer.
An Uncanny Quest.
It is rumored that more tliau one s
employe of Parisian hairdressiu" 1
lirms have been soon of late traveling 1
West and1 South in Ireland, bent or" ^
exploiting a new country I?v the "hail J
harvest." Red-gold hair, the fashion (
able: French shade of Hie year, i>
most uncommon on the Continent
where dark and blonde locks only an
to be readily obtained. But, observe.* ?
the Freeman's Jouri^il, the true Miles- ^
ian possesses the linest red-gold hair t
irf the world. Hence tills quest. J
FISHING WITH BIRDS
The Chinaman Uftes Cormorants to . Catc| . >
HU Finny Prey.
In this country the fisherman is
man who uses hook or line or the n?$jt*gip
In following his profession, and folk! ^
would stare with wonder to see hinp/ ."-w
start off with a flock of birds to hell
in catching fish. Yet is (lone ia A
China. There the Chinaman may bevjjM
seen in his sampan BfTf^nded by coe*$H|
morants which have been trained to :jBk
dash into the water at hi* order. eeI?&;M
the fish and brine them to the boat. "18
Should a corraorantjUfcpture a fish too >|j
large for it, to caqnr alone one of its ^
companions will'jBto it sas8istance/-*|a
and together they *11 bring it in. I?
If the ChiHamwi'wIshes to eatcli turties
he will do so with the-aid of a! 'Tjjj
sucking flsh or remora. This fish iW^H
on top ot itrf head a long disc or suckeivAa
by which it' attaches itself beneathr^ajfl
moving objects such as sharks, wbalesH?|
and the bottoms of ships rather
make tjjft^fort accessary to indepand- 3
cut iuo?||fent.
The^flgnnan fastens the remora to
a lon^,?plrtied to a brass ring about
its taih and when he reaches the. tur- rtie
ground puts it oferboard, taklrijf^A
care to keep it from the bottom of the
boat When a tuftle passes near the'1?
remora darts beneath hlna^andfasteng J'r
to his shelh Struggle as b^ wlll. tb^:^
turtle cannot loosen the grip of tfii?/;;j|
sucker, and the Chinaman has onlyj^pl
haul in on the line, bring the turtle bi> <&jf
to the boat and take him aboard'. .
Rapid Growth of Beard.
Three brothers, bearing a remark3'^|
able resemblance to one another,
in the habit of patronizing the same^jl
barber shop.' One day one of the-'. - J,
brothers entered the shop early in the'
morning and was duly shaved by a
German who had been at worifc in/he- ^
establishment for pqe or two1 days. J
About twelve o'clock1Tanother brothy' jtta
came in and underwit a similar oper- %81
ation. In the evening the thfrd brother^Mjl
made his appearance, when the Ger- '
man dropped his razor in aitonht" .ov.
ment.
"Mine gootness, dat man has th^ ||
fastest growing beard I eves saw. ftv-yjl
shaves him dis mornin' anoder shaves
him fit dinner times, and he gome#.
back now mit his beard so long
never was."?Chicago Journal. 'v'5Jl
Atclilson People Noted For Honerty^vfrB
An Atchison (Kan.) man points witfc
pride to the honesty of Inhabitant?' "ffig
city as exemplified in the fact that.a, , }^
woman left a well-filled pocketbook. mM
on a chair in front of a hotel there
aud found it safe and unrifled on returning
several hours later. A Jeal-^j
ous. contemporary in a rival town com^H
ments on this circumstance as follows^Bj
"As a rule people pass along thfl^E
streets of the place oftener than
It really Isn't so bad as thestory wou^^H
indicate."
; '?. *
Pretty Home Made Screen.
In a picturesque cacSp cottage in HRH
woods the dining room is separ^H^^
from the living room by a really
screen. One panel is illustrated^^HHH
with to show how easily such a
may be constructed. The frar^Rj^BH
is an ordinary* clothes horse.
of gfeen Japanese matting is H
on the lower half on either
the selvage edge top and bottom': haff''*. ~
inch rope, which has been painted
green; and cut in the right lengths,'
EASILY CONSTRUCTED SCBBgy^ J
forms the trellis, and a larger size, alsffc^I?
painted gre^u, the finish. This i$ <ot9^H
ily nailed to the wood by lieans of
long wire nails. Several green soda'-^M
ivji tor fenrtips with round bottoms are
huug at intervals along the edge,
which finishes the top of the matting
on the dining room side. They are<.^H
filled with water and kept filled
the trailing vines of the neighborhood;,
sf which there is a great profusior&^2i
These are trained In among the rope
trellis, and give, as may readily
seen, a most charming effect.?New*'* S
lurk Tribune.
ltuiwia'ii Blind.
There are twice as many blind per- ja
sons iu Russia as iu the whole of the* )
est of Europe. They number 190,000, ' . jj
vhich is equivalent to two in every
LOO of the population. In Trance and :'h
England the proportion Is not quite
me per 1000. -. .,3
The King of Diamond*. '
The Rajah of Matlau owns the larg- ,</ ^
si diamond in the world. It weighs ^ja
!GT carats, and is shaped like an egg, -yj
vith afaueer little dented hollo'w a? ' |g
he smaller <?nd
a.. nfc- ". >' '
..IT '
-1 ' 't . / *4^3