Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. grist, proprietor. J %n Jndfpcndcnt damily ghirapaptr: Joi] (he $romo(ion of (hq $oli(iqal, Social, l^icultnrat and 4ommerciat Jnhrqsts of (he $outft. | terms?$2.00 a tear ef advance. yol .37 yorkville, s. c? wednesday, may 6, 1891. NO. 13. '" ' ? ' - ? ' ' ?- i>-- ?- -? it? a? ! surrender of ships. An enemy's fleet AN ARMY BY CAPT. CHAS. Author of "The Colonel's Daughte Ranks," "Dunraven Rar [Copyright, 1890, by J. B. Lippincott Com] ment with thei; UUAi'rjbft vu "My Ood! those papers art gone." "Fred, what did Maj. Kenyon mean by his reference to Mr. Hearn and some story about him?" asked Mrs. Lane that evening as the captain was locking up after, their guests had departed. Miss Marshall, who was glancing over a pho!* tograph album, closed it and rose as though to leave the parlor, .j "No, don't go," said Capt Lane ' promptly. "I was sorry that Kenyon a made any reference to the matter, but since he did I want you both?indeed 1 think Hearn told me because he wanted you both?to know all about the affair. He had never mentioned it to me, nor to any one, 1 fancy, oeiore, oecauso were ' was no need. It was all settled some time ago. bat of course he felt sensitive about it He was a green young lieutenant when he joined here six yean ago. This Jew Schonberg was clerk at the sutler's. The officers dealt very largely with him then, for town was not as accessible as it is now. "The former post trader was a jovial, i kindly sort of fellow, who was much liked by everybody, but he left his books and his business in the hands of Schonberg. 1 have often heard how open handed he was with his money, 1 and how officers, and men too, never had to go to any banker or scalper if they needed money for an emergency. Anything a friend of his wanted was at his service. Hearn began as a good < many boys of his genial temperament are apt to do at a big and expensive post ?got in debt, for everybody wants to give credit to young officers just start- , ing, and then the bills come in all at one swoop afterward. Old Cheery,' as they , used to call Braine, saw Hearn's trouble, 1 and insisted on lending him money out < of his own pocket It wasn't a store 1 matter at all; it wasn't entered on < Hearn's account He paid it back in in- a stallments to the old man himself, or c was doing it when he received his pro- \ motion and had to make the long and i expensive journey to Arizona. "Except cadets when first joining, offi- t cera are not paid advance mileage. They 1 must raise the money as best they can, I and it is mighty hard on a young lieuten- t ant Old Cheery,' of course, advanced Hearn another two hundred dollars. The z first was paid, all but fifty of it, and he i told the boy when he left that he had taken a big liking to him, and that he could just return that at his convenience; bat Hearn never lost a day after getting to his new poet and obtaining v his mileage, bnt bought a draft for two hundred dollars and sent it to the old man at once, and said in his letter that he would remit the balance of the account and his store bill just as soon as possible. 'Old Cheery' was a man who never wrote letters, bat Hearn got a line from his wife saying that Mr. Braine bad received his pleasant letter with its inclosure, and sent his best wishes. "A few months afterward the old man suddenly died; the widow moved to town; a new trader came and took the stove,and when Hearn sent his next remittance of fifty dollars to the widow he was surprised in the course of a few months afterward to receive what purported to be a statement of his account with the estate of Thomas Braine, deceased?a store bill amounting to over a hundred dollars, and no less than five hundred dollars in borrowed money. He wrote instantly to a friend at Fort By an to see | the widow and have things straightened out He protested that his store bill could not be more than forty or fifty dollars; that old Braine had lent him two hundred dollars at one time, which he had paid back to him all but fifty, and two hundred more when he went to ; Arizona, which he had instantly repaid, ! so that the total amount of his indebt- | edness could not exceed one hundred ; dollars. But the widow said she didn't know anything about it "Mr. Schonberg had kindly taken charge of all her affairs, and he had the # books and everything and all the correspondence and knew all about it Hearn, of course, refused to pay anything bnt the hundred dollars. Then they threatened him with legal proceedings, and next they importuned him through the war department, which, just as old Kenyon Bays, believed the blackguard and called on Hearn for an ex- j planation. It nearly drove the young fellow mad. He was proud and sensitive. He couldn't bear to think of the publicity and scandal. He had never given Braine any receipt for the money obtained from him; never had asked any for the money repaid. He was too honorable to deny the fact of having borrowed the money, yet had nothing to | show, the old man being dead, for the I money that he had returned. I had ! heard something of his trouble, but was ordered east on recruiting service just then, and began to get into troubles of my own, for it was there I met this : young woman." And the captain, with eyes that belied his words, turned fondly to his wife. "The next thing I heard of Heam the matter had all been most fortunately Bettled?thanks to one of our old cap- ' tains, who, it seems, had known both Schonberg and the widow Braine. He i took the matter up and the Jew was 1 glad to drop it Even Hearn does not know what hold he had on them, but it < was settled then and there. Hearn paid a hundred dollars, and Schonberg, I am i told, had to pay the lawyer whom he J had employed. I often think, though, j how hard would have been the young i fellow's fate if there had been no one to j come to the rescue. There isn't a better or braver officer in the Eleventh today than Hearn, and he is just as steady as a rock; but soldiers as good as he have been driven out of the army for lack of ! some such friend as came to him in his extremity." "You would have helped him, Fred dear," said Mrs. Lane, fondly, crossing j over to the captain and stroking the grizzled stubble about his brows as though it were the loveliest hair in the world. Lane possessed himself of the soft white hand and threw his arm about her shapely waist. "I would certainly had I known, but , nine out of ten do not happen to be able 1 to help, even when our inclinations j would lead. And then, however much i PORTIA." KING, U. S. A., :r," "The Deserter," "From the ich," "Two Soldiers." pany, and published bv special arrange- ' n.] ^ I we believed in He&rn'a story and ISchc-n- > hcrtr's rascality, who could prove it?" "Who did prove it?" asked Hiss Mrx- , shall, after a pause. "Well, no one that I know of. All we know is that Schonberg was glad to diop ; the matter three years ago when Capt Rawlins first tackled the case. Henrn says he has never alluded to it from thai , time to this until the fellow's language today; but that was only some vague drunken threat" "But if, on the contrary, it should prove that he meant to make more trou- ( bleforMr. Hearn," asked Miss Marshall, "is Capt. Rawlins here?" "By JoveP exclaimed the caption, ; starting suddenly to his feet, his face , growing as suddenly grave and sad, "that possibly explains the letter that i came to me yesterday morning. I was reading it as you came down to breakfast?a low, anonymous thing, and 1 burned it. Now I wish I had kept that." "About Mr. Hearn, was it?" asked Mrs. Lane anxiously. "Yes; and now I can begin to understand it, too. Miss Marshall," said he, turning impressively toward her, "your I question goes to the very bottom of this 1 case. The friend who blocked 1heir game three years ago is gone; Rawlins was killed in the last campaign in Arizona." "Oh, Fred!" cried Mrs. Lane. "And was there no one else who had helped Mr. Hearn?" "No one but our old Rawlins, Mabel; and of all men to help him now he would have been the most valuable here with < our new colonel, for he and Morrie had been devoted and intimate friends ii:. war days, and I am told thecolonel was deeply j cut up by the news of Rawlins' death. There was something romantic about ' their early friendship. Capt Rawlins was a widower whose wife had died within a few years of her marriage, and I have heard that both he and Morris j when young officers were in love with I her, but that she had cboeen Rawlins." "But, Capt Lane," said Miss Mai shall, whose thoughts seemed less fixed upon the romantic than upon the practical j ** 1? If- XT L.a Biae oi ioe case, "sureiy ju. uou u iw , receipts in fall for this amount?" "1 so understood him, Miss Marshall; and yet 1 do not know the nature of the papers to which he refers. 1 think he said thathe had her letter; but that is of less value now." "And why?" asked Miss Marshall. "Because the widow married Schonberg." " 'Theu must the Jew be merciful,' " quoted Miss Marshall. And for a few moments not another word was spoken. It was that young lady herself who broke the silence : "Perhaps you think me unduly apprehensive, Capt Lane. That mail's face inade a powerful impression upon me when I saw him today, and perhaps MaDel has told you something of my own ucperience in trying to retrieve my faher's fallen fortunes when he was too >ld and broken to do anything far himelf. I learned then the worthlassness 1 spoken words, and that nothing bat vritten contracts and receipts were bindng." She had hardly ceased speaking when he gate was heard to swing on its rusty tinges, a resolute step creaked across the liazza, and somebody was fumbling at he bell knob. "Who can that be at this hour of the tight?" asked Mrs. Lane, as the captain vent to the door. The bolts were drawn tack and a rush of cold night wind iwept in, causing the lamps to suddenly lare and smoke. "Please, sir, is the doctor here?" a roice was heard to ask. "No," answered Lane. "Whar's want)d? He left here about twenty minutes tgo. Have you been to his quarters?" "Yes, sir; and they told me he was lere, at Capt Lane's. Corp. Brent is ;ook worse, sir, and the steward thinks he doctor ought to see him. He's wild ike and raving." "Mabel dear, I'll be back in a monent," said Lane, reappearing at the D&rlor door. "Don't wait for me: Tm joing to see if the doctor is at Hearn'a. rhey went away together. Corp. Brent a reported worse." AD rowing liu cavttiry uuvuiai wtw lis shoulders Lane stepped f orth into ,he night. It was moonless and pitchy lark. The lamps around the quad angle were burning brightly, but hardly sufficed to illumine more than a rma.il sphere in the surrounding gloom, icross the wide valley a distant ruddy ipark showed where some farm bomeitead was still alive; and far away to be westward the electric lights, Bwingng high over the thoroughfares of the briving town, shone with keen, cold aster, and were mirrored in some deep, in raffled pool of the stream. Turning lis back on these the captain trudged jriskly down the walk, the hospital atanclant following, and opened the little ^ate some fifty yards from his own. As ib surmised, the doctor was here, for his roice, and Kenyon's, too, could be heard lefore Lane tapped at the doer. "Come in," shouted Hearp in answer o the signal, and the captain entered. "You are asked for at the hospital, loctor. They say Brent is delirious." At this the medical man dropped the agar he had but half smoked and left be room. Lane was for going with lim, but Hearn begged him to stay: "No time like the present, captain, and [ want you to see the papers in the celebrated case of Braine vs. Hearn while Siaj. Kenyon is here. I'll beg Mrs. Lane's pardon in the morning, and not letain you more than a minute." Standing against the wall in the midst >f what had been old Blauvelt's sitting room was a plain wooden table with a iigeonbeled desk upon it, the lid of which, turned down, made the writing belf. In the pigeonholes were numer>us folded papers, well filled envelopes, packages of tobacco, a brier root pipe, a jair of 8houlder8traps, several pairs of gloves, some fishing tackle, some cartele-visite sized photographs, a damaged laberknot and the inevitable accumulation of odds and ends with which a rabaltern's field desk is apt to be lit- j bered But the pigeonholes had been ' juite systematically labeled. There j were compartments bearing the legends i "letters unanswered," "letters an- J jwered," "personals," "bills paid," "bills I unpaid" (both impartially occupied), ' "pay accounts." "maps," "field notes," I etc. "I never knew the necessity of having j some sort of system about these matters until after the experience I have been telling you of, captain, and 1 am in- ! debted to dear old Rawlins for it. Yon ; never met him, did you, Maj. Kenyon?" "No, except just for a moment in the : Shenandoah valley during the war. He was commanding his regiment then." "Yes, and lived to be shot down in i cold blood by a lot of ambuscading Apaches nearly a quarte.v of a century j after, and?nothing but a captain of cavalry." "He had some little property here in town at one time," said Kenyon. "That was nearly ten years ago though, and it j went at a sacrifice, I'm told. Perhaps it \ was while he was a local taxpayer that he got to know your Hebrew friend of today." "He never told me what he knew of him. beyond the mere fact that he was dishonest and a born mischief maker. But the moment he took that case ud > for me Schonberg dropped it. For some reason the Jew was afraid of the old man, as every one called Rawlins.M He&rn was turning over in his hand as he spoke a package of folded papers held together by elastic snaps. Removing the upper band, he began looking over the docketing at the top of each paper. "Rawlins himself indorsed this particular packet for me and showed me how it should be done," he said. 'Tve often thought that if we could drop out a little slice of the mathematical course j at the Point, and have some coaching in this sort of thing, how much better fitted we should be for the every day duties of life. Now, I? Why, this is odd. I certainly had those papers in this very packet not three weeks ago. I saw them the day i oved in here. 1 ' 1 ttllo VATV rlftst &t remeiiiuctuiciunuuiij, the time." Nervously he ran through the package again, his fingers rapidly turning the folded pages, his face paling with Budden apprehension. "There was a letter here from Capt Rawlins, two receipts of Schonberg's and the letter from Mrs. Braine, all bundled up together, and the indorsement of each in Rawlins* handwriting." Then he threw down the packet and began pulling out the papers in other pigeonholes, Eenyon and Lane standing silently by. In vain he searched. Not a vestige of the desired proofs could be found. It was with a white face and eyes that were full of trouble that he turned upon his seniors: "My Qodl those papers are gonel" "Look in your trunk, man," said Lane kindly; "don't give up yet;" while Kenyou himself began a search on his own account in the now disordered desk. "Was this always kept locked when you went out, Hearn?" asked the major. ! "Surely such important papers ought not to be left lying around loose." "Locked? Yea. At least I never was | away for any tithe without locking it. Sometimes, just going oat to receive reports at roll call, 1 would not lock up. for who would want to rob a poor fellow of papers of no valne to any one but the owner?" The major looked grave. Lane's face was full of anxiety, which he hardly knew how to conceal Both well knew | the almost universally careless habits of the bachelor officers in garrison. Their doors are never locked; their rooms are j empty half the time, and their pocket- i books empty ordinarily as their rooms; their books, papers, desks, even trunks, almost always lying unguarded about the premises. Servants and orderlies move from house to house unquestioned, and the rear doors are unfastened day and night. "We have nothing worth , fVinnrv 44Q/1 whv BUHUUlg, 10 lilO gcuuu* iiuwv? j , -- | bother abont locking an empty stable?" "Who is your servant?" asked Kenyon brusquely. "Our black boy, Jake. He has taken I care of my rooms and traps for three years, and works for Wallace and Martin, too. He's as honest a nigger as ever lived; has been with the regiment longer than I have." "Yes; Jake isn't half a bad boy. But was there no one else who had the run of the premises?" "Not a soul. Jake himself is rarely here except when at work." There was a moment's silence. The major presently sauntered over and tried the door leading to the dining room. "Here is the key if you want to go in there," said Hearn. "I have kept all the rooms locked since Blauvelt left except this one and my bedroom upstairs. The back door is locked, too. Jake al- ' ways comes in the front way. I don't suppose any one has come through the kitchen since the day the captain's family left." "Didn't Welsh have to come here for his traps?" asked Lana "Yes; but he was under guard at the time?had a sentinel over him?and both Jake and I were here. He took nothing i out of this house but his own personal belongings, and never entered this room at i all that day. 1 couldn't help it, but after ; seeing him with Schonberg today the first explanation of my loes that occur- , red to me a moment ago was?Welsh. | Yet how could he have been the man?" There was another moment of silence, j Lane stood thoughtfully examining the j lock of the desk, then 6trolled into the j hall and tried the key of the front door j As he stood there under the swinging ; lamp the clink of an infantry sword was { heard at the gate and the voice of Capt j Brodie. "What are you youngsters doing at j this hour of the peaceful night? Come j out here and worship nature and visit j sentries for me. Ohl beg your pardon, Lane; I thought it must be some of the j boys." "Maj. Kenyon and I have been keep- j ing Hearn awake," was the answer. "We are just going." "Hello, Brodie," quoth the major, as he, too, came forth. "Have you been to see how Brent is?" "Delirious, I'm told. Only the doctor and steward are with him. I was just waiting for 12 o'clock to go down and stir np the sentries. There ought to be none but calvalry officers of the day at this post, by Jove! so that they could ride around among those outside sen- . tries. It's too far for a Christian to walk twice in twenty-four hours. Thank ! God, there's the call now." At the first words from the lips of the i sentry at the guard house the lamps at the two western gates were promptly extinguished, and then the forms of two : men could be discerned Sitting from . poet to post, extinguishing each lamp in turn. Soon the entire quadrangle was wrapped in total darkness, and the silent ' stars gleamed all the more brilliantly in | the unclouded sky. Far over to the ' westward the reflection of the electric lights, a pallid, sickly glare upon the | heavens, suddenly faded into nothing- . ness. "That's the first time the town clock and ours have been so close together ' since my coming to the garrisoa Where . did we get this custom of dousing the glim at midnight?" asked Lane. "The ?th started that when they | were here. Got it from town perhaps. Listen a moment," answered Brodie. "I 1 want to hear the sentries down toward j the bridge." Faint and far, though borne on the ! wings of the soft night wind, the call of | No. 7 had just sounded. It was now the j turn of the farthest sentry, No. 8, whose post was down the winding road at the j haystacks and wood yard. A rich, musical Irish voice, softened by distance, j began its soldier troll "N-umber 8. Tw-el-ve o'clock?and a-a-all's? Who goes there? Halt! Halt! i Corp'l the gu-a-ard?Number 8!" Bang! Hearn was the first of the four officers j to reach the southwest gate. He could i xv- r--xr_li_ 4.V., near tut) louuaus ui uio uuiv? u> ws guard running down the road past the stables, and without hesitation followed full tilt The guard was hurriedly turn- J ing ont and forming. It was the sergeant who faced it to the front and made the customary report to Capt Brodie, as the officer of the day came panting to the spot: "Sir, the guard is present and the i prisoners secure." An audible suicker in the prison room i followed these words. A corporal file ; closer stepped back into the guard room and gruffly ordered silence among the prisoners, which only evoked more titter- j ing and whispering. A sudden thought occurred to the officer of the day. "Bring your lantern here," he said, as i he strode through the guard room into ; the narrow passage beyond. On one ; side was the prison room whence the ' noise proceeded, on the other were the cells. "Open these doors," ho ordered. "There's only one cell occupied, sir; the third." "Open that, then." The heavy door creaked on its hinges, i A gust of cool night air blew through : the cell. The window was wide open. ! The iron slats were sawed aw&y. The bird had flown. Private Goes, the a?snilant of Corp. Brent, was prono CHAPTER VH. "Hello! hello! what's thlsT" he said. In the soft, June like weather of that memorable week at Ryan the ladies spent but little of their waking moments j indoors, and even the broad verandas of j the colonel's quarters on the north side were no more popular or populous than those of Capt. Lane at the southwest 1 corner. Mrs. Lane and Mis; Marshall : attributed this to the fact that the sun on its westward way passed behind theft cozy home and left the front piazza cool ; and shaded, whereas even the canvas hangings in front of the Morrises' could not quite shut out the glare. But Mrs. Morris laughingly declared that since | their coming into the society of Fort ! Ryan she bad become "a decided back number." Whether the theory of the colonel's ; wife was true or not, it must be said i to her credit that she accepted the situ- , atiou with charming grace, and was ; quite as frequent a visitor at the Lanes' ! as many of the younger women. Her own guests had departed, leaving her somewhat lonely, she said; and while she thought it by no means a proper or conventional thing that she should be so ' constantly visiting people who so seldom honored her she could not but have ocular proof at all hours of the day that Mrs. i Lane and her fair friend, Miss Marshall, could not sally forth to make calls except at the price of leaving a number of callers in the lurch. There were other young j ladies in garrison just then?Miss Wharton visiting her brother and Miss McCrea staying at the Burnhains'. There were several pretty girls in the neighboring town who frequently came out and spent | a few days with the familiej at the post, and all these of course, as well as the young married ladies, were "he recipients I of much attention on the piprt of the of- j ficers, young and old. It i i a fact well understood in army circles that few officers are too old to tender such attentions and no woman too old to receive them. And Mrs. Lane was rejoiciug in the success of her projects for the benefit of Georgia Marshall. Her friend was a pronounced success from the day of her *, arrival; and yet it was somewhat diffi- ' cult to say why. She was not a beauty, i despite her lovely eyes; she had none of , those flattering, soothing, half caressing ! ways some women use with such telling , effect on almost every man they seek to impress. She was not chatty. She was | anything but confidential. She was rather silent and decidedly reserved, yet a most attentive listener withal; and ( then she had the courage of her opinions. Her prompt and prominent part in the little drama enacted the night of her arrival had made her famous in the garrison; her frank, unaffected, but gracious ways had done much to make her popular. The statement that she was an orphan and poor, combined with the fact, which the other women so speedily determined, that she was not pretty, had removed her, presumably, from the range of | jealousy. The other g:".rls found her | very entertaining, since she let them do | much of the talking, and were willing: to accord to her a certain quiet style of i her own. Hie men were glad to be civil ; to any friend of Mrs. Lime's. And yei; j Georgia Marshall had not been there a I week before, as Mabel confidently pre- j dieted, she was having in abundance tetes-a-tete of her own. It was the third morning after the escape of the prisoner Goss, and for forty- j eight hours nothing else had been talked of among the soldiers, aud nothing had excited so much comment umong the families at the post. Up to this moment ( not a trace had been found. The two iron slate in front of his window had been cut through swiftly and noiselessly from within with watch spring saws, and the tallow and iron filings lay about the stony window sill. He had been thoroughly searched before being put in that cell, and it was absolutely certain that 1 neither files nor tallow were then in his possession. The guard swore that no man had had access to him afterward. | A wire netting prevented anything from j , being thrown to him from the outside, ' and this had been forced upward and 1 outward after the bare were cut. The sergeant of the guard was sure that no man had touched or even spoken to him, except when lie himself had ' seen his dinner and supper handed in. ; There could have been no collusion on the part of the sentries, for the men on No. 1 all through the day and night were of the infantry, and warm friends ' of Brent, who would have lost no chance of putting a bullet through the supposed assailant in the event of his attempting to escape. The blacksmith said it would take several hours?at least five?to file through those two bars, and the man must have worked with the patience of j a beaver. It was a drop of only seven j feet to the ground without, for the win- j dow overlooked the uphill slope back of the guard house; and yet, as he proba- , bly had to come through head first, that j was quite a fall. The prints of his outspread hands were found in the dust heap, and it looked as though he must have lain there some moments before stealing away. The sentry far down by the wood yards, No. 8, stated that just as he was j calling off and standing faced to the east so that liis voice might carry to the guard house, he heard a sudden stumble behind him; a man tripped over a log between him and the road, then rau like mad down toward the old station. It was too dark to recognize who it could be. The officer of tho guard had stopped to interrogate the sentry on reaching his post, but Mr. Hearn had pushed ahead, and down at tho foot of tho hill had plainly heard a horse's hoofs and the light rumble of wheels crossing the bridge and going at a spanking trot; yet soldiers returning from pass, reliable men, had neither seen nor heard horse or wagon anywhere on the flats along wliich lay tho road to town. An -/5P L 1--.1 -m.i/lf, fn fruil tiin wheel CliUI b 1IOU WCI* vv V* W... ..? tracks from the bridge, but, though a place was found among the trees near the old station where u horse and buggy had evidently stood for two or three hours, it was impossible to determine which way they had gone after crossing the stream, for the farm wagons coming from every by road in the morning had totally obliterated the tracks. Goss' escai>o while under charges of such grave character was regarded as I tantamount to admission of his guilt. Meanwhile Corp. Brent's case seemed to have taken a turn for the better, and, though there was still danger, there was hope. What struck many inquirers was the fact that the doctor seemed ill at ease, and invariably evaded the question, when pressed as to the nature of Brent's dolirium. This, of course, simply served to whet public curiosity; and the young soldier l>ecuinc, all unconsciously, an object of greater interest ; than ever. The ladies of the infantry, who had known him by sijfht some time, j were certain that from the very first he had borne all the gat ward appearance of a gentleman, nnafln every word and gesture had "givenrthe world assurance of a man" of birth ind breeding. Their Bisters of the cavaly, who had but recently reached ForfcRyan, were not slow ! in accepting their theories. Such things weite by no means uncommon in the service; and wouldn't it be delicious, now, to have a romance in j the ranks at Ryan? Only fancy, Mrs. i Burnham, Mrs. Bibdie, and, above all, Mrs. Graves, were quite ready to go to the hospital at any time the doctor would permit and become the nurse of the young corporal; but the medical man i almost bluntly declined the services of two of these ladies, and with positive insolence, said the third, had told her llavoia VIAM ininin. BUU CUIUU UiUV/U uci uauur trations to her own children. "Just as if I didn't know best what my children needed!" said the offended matron. And it was about Dr. Ingersoll that Mrs. Graves was discoursing this very morning on Mrs. Lane's piazza, while her own olive branches were clambering the fences and having a battle royal with the progeny of Mrs. Sergt. Flynn ! at the other end of. the garrison. And, j as lnck would have it} who should come t along the gravel walk bnt the major 1 and the doctor, arm in arm, at which | sight Miss Marshall's expressive eyes, j brimming with merriment, songht the half vexed features of Capt. Lane, who j had been fidgeting uneasily in his chair I during her ladyship's exordium. Like ' many another excellent soldier, this practised trooper had no weapon with which to silence a woman's tongne. "Youll find I'm right, Mrs. Lane, j See if you don't," proceeded Mrs. Graves, ! all unconscious of the coming pair. i "You found I wasn't mistaken about j Maj. Kenyon; and they are just as like ; as two peas in a pod?both of them." Then, recalled to the possibilities of ! the situation by the mirthful gloam in j Miss Marshall's eye and the audible i chuckles of Mr. Lee, she whirled about J and caught sight of the object of her dissertation. "Oh, it's you they're laughing at, is , it?" she hailed. "I was just talking about you." "Then how could you find the heart to laugh, Mrs. Lane?" said the major, raising his cap with simulated reproach of mien. "Etoes it amuse you to see fellow mortals flayed alive? Is it not bad enough that, like Sir Peter Teazle, I am never out of Mrs. Graves' sight but that I know I've left my character behind me? The doctor and I were wondering whether there was a vestige left of the good impression we strove to } moke upon Miss Marshall." "I'm sure you ruined all possibility of | that three days ago, major, when you i showed her what a cynical old party you were. No wonder the young officers in our regiment lose all love for their profession after hearing you talk. If I were Col. Morris I wouldn't have yon contaminating the lieutenants of the Eleventh the way you were trying i( on Mr. Hearn the other day." "Where is Mr. Hearn. bv the way?" asked Mrs. Lane, eager to put an end to ' Buch an unprofitable controversy. "He | hasn't been in here for nearly two days. ! Come, major?come, doctor, walk in and j Bit awhile. We want to hear how Corp. ! Brent is, too." "Brent seems easier, Mrs. Lane, tliank 1 yon," answered the surgeon. "I cannot j stop just now; wo came over to meet; the mail, for the orderly seems to have an unusually big load this morning. Here ' come the youngsters up from the poet- i office now." And as he spoke perhaps half a d ozen ! young cavalrymen, still in their riding boots and spurs, as though they had but just returned from drill, came slowly up the slope. Wharton had an open news- ' paper whith he was reading aloud; the j others were hanging about him, evident- I ly listening with absorbed attention, to i the neglect of their own letters. "What's the matter with the boys?" ' asked Eenyon, whimsically, as they approached. "They look &3 solemn as 1 owls." Naturally all eyes were drawn toward j the coming party. Lane, bending for- j ward, saw that Hearn's face was pale, 1 even under the coat of tan ;and sunburn, j He would have passed them by, simply liiting his cap, as Wharton half folded the paper when the group filed in through the main gate, but again Eenyon spoke: "What makes you look eo like a pack of mutes, lads? What's gone wrong? Is congress sailing into us again?" "Maj. Kenyon," said Martin, deliberately, halting in front of the gate, "I ' said some disparaging things about your remarks here the other day. I beg your j pardon, air. You were right; I was ; wrong. Hold on, Hearn; don't go now j and brood over this thing. Stay Iiere ! with the crowd, and well take it all to- i gether." Lane had half risen, anxiety deepen- | in&r in his dark gray eyes: "What is'it, Hearn? Come in here, I come in, all of you." And Georgia Marshall, glancing from one face to another, noted the silence and gravity that had fallen on ewh. Some looked full of surppressed wrath, others simply perplexed and annoyed. Without a word to any one Hearn stepped in and stood beside her chair. "You best know your own papers, ! major; you read this aloud," said Martin. And Kenyon, looking about in momentary surprise, unfolded the great pages of the Chicago daily. His eyes ' gleamed as they caught the henvy head lines at the top of the sheet. "Hello! hello! what's this?" he said. "Army Brutality. Outrageous Treatment of Private Soldiers. Civilians In- j suited and Abused. A Thug in Shoulder I Straps. Lieut. Hearn a Cowardly Bully, i Special Dispatch to The Palladium. ! Central City, May 3.?For years past the citizens of this thriving frontier town have had frequent cause for complaint ! as to the swaggering and insolent bearing j of the officers of the army stationed at the neighboring post of Fort Ryan; but of late the feeling lias reached fever heat, due to recent occurrences which attracted widespread attention. Acting under instructions, your correspondent reached this city five days ago, and has made a thorough, impartial, and ex- j haustive investigation into the matter; has talked with many, if not all, of the | prominent citizens; has personally j visited the post and conversed with a number of intelligent enlisted men; and, as a result of liis painstaking cbserva- ! tions, he is enabled to send you the following account, for the absolute accuracy of every detail of which he vouches unreservedly. "So far as the enlisted men are concerned, the people have no complaint to make, it is, inueeu, me concern[nation of their wrongs anil sufferings tliat has roused the popular clamor against their aristocratic and overbearing taskmasters. Just why it is that the instant a young man escapes from the hotbed of flunkoyisin and snobbery, West Point, and dons the straps of a second lieutenant, he should imagine that he owns the earth and that the nations should bow down to i him, is something no intelligent mind can understand. But to become convinced that it is so beyond peradventure, one has only to visit this representative army post, garrisoned as it is by large detachments of so called distinguished regiments; though, from all accounts, ; the distinction they have earned seems chiefly to be connected with drinking bouts and gambling tables. "On every side it was declared to your correspondent that civilians who ventured out to the fort were treated with contumely and insult; that the officers rudely ordered them off the reservation and forbade them to enter the sacred precincts of the barracks, and even caused their ejection from the public store and saloon, kept at the post by one Stone, who truckles, of course, to his official neighbors and obtains in return the mandate that the soldiers must spend < their mowy with him at swindling prices and the prohibition against their having any dealings with the reputable merchants in the city. On the other hand, the merchants who have been so unfortunate as to trust the officers are not able to collect their bills at all, and are absolutely forbidden to enter the garrison when they seek to press their claims. "Here is the brief history of one day's experience, In company with one of the i oldest, weilthiest and most respected j business men of this section your correspondent drove to Fort Ryan this morning to see for himself how far the facts would justify the allegations, and j if a lingering doubt remained it was at once and forever rudely dispelled. A case of particular hardship had been brought to our attention and wo desired to see Trooper Welsh in person. He was on sick report, excused from drill by reason of ".he treatment that had been j accorded him by the commanding officer j of his trocp, or we probably could not have seen him at all. Seizing a moment when the officers were away at drill Mr. S. sent a message asking the young soldier to come oat. "A fine looking, intelligent man of ! about 25 years was presented to your \ correspondent, and briefly and simply told his story. It was enough to make an American's blood boil in his veins to 1 note the emotion and humiliation it : seemed to cause him. He came of an excellent family in the east, but having long desired from patriotic motives to ' become a soldier of the flag he had against their wishes enlisted under an assumed name. From the very start his : captain hod compelled him to work about his house like a common drudge. He had to black boots, build fires, sweep the kitchen, actually do chores for the cap- : tain's cook. In vain he begged to be allowed to join his troop and learn his duty as a soldier; he was sternly refused. It made his own comrades among the soldiers look down upon him, and when he could find tiino to visit them at the barracks the sergeants abused him like 1 a thief. But the man who particularly , hounded him was Second Lieut. Hearn, a young martinet fresh from Wesi Point, who never lost a chance of cursing him j for errors on drill or mistakes made afterward. i "The captain had taught him that when at work for him he must not quit it to jump up and salute every lieutenant who happened along; and just because he remained seated and at work when Lieut. Hearn passed by, the latter cursed him like a dog, had him thrown into a filthy dungeon, and there he lay until ho was tried by court martial and sentenced by a gang of Hearu's com- : rades to fine and imprisonment for obey- I ing his captain's orders. Another time, j when he was cleaning the captain's horse, the lieutenant's horse, which was j next him on the line, kept backing over him, treading on him, and knocking his brushes out of his hand, and because he Rimply pushed him back and spoke sharply Lieut. Hearn rushed in and swore he had a mind to kick him black ? J VI lJM I anil ailU U1UU. u no uau, cxwu ??viou?iMiw the young soldier's eyes blazed with pent up feeling?'I could no longer have controlled myself. I would have knocked him clown and appealed to the people of America to uphold me.' For this he j was again thrust into the vermin haunted dungeon, and this made him so ill that the surgeon himself had been compelled to interpose in his behalf. '1 would desert and end it all,' said the poor fellow, with tears in his eyes, 'but I have sworn to serve my country, and I shall keep my oath.' When told that The Palladium would see him righted, though the heavens fell, his emotion was something that would have melted the stoutest heart. "Hut now comes the crowning peak of blfickguardism. Warned by some spy, I doubtless, of the fact that his victim wtis telling his story to citizens, Lieut. Hoara suddenly appeared on the scene, and before our eyes, with vulgar abuse | and tyrannical bearing, ordered Private Welsh, instantly to leave. In vain the ycung soldier respectfully pleaded that he liad a right to speak withfriends who j came to see him. In vain he pointed out that he was on no duty at the time. In ' vid;i Mr. S. interposed in behalf of justice and decency. The brutal bully sebed the weakened invalid in an iron grasp, dragged him like a dog to the gutter in front and then, with cuffs and cuises, drove him before him into the guard house. Meantime Mr. S., who had formerly many friends at the post, hastened into the officer's club room, homing to explain the matter and secure justice for the unfortunate fellow. But it; was a hapless move. What business bad he, a civilian, to intrude uninvited into the mighty presence of half a dozen beirdless young satraps in shoulder sbape? He was rudely ordered to leave tha premises; and when, in his indignation, he protested against such treatm:nt, Lieut. Hearn himself came back boiling with rage, calling for his troopers to come and eject these intruders from the garrison. We were actually driven by force off the reservation. "Your correspondent has, of course, made immediate and respectful representation of these facts to the general commanding the department, and when next he visits the fort will do so with a safeguard that no bally in the uniform of a second lieutenant will dare gainsay. This is but the prelude of further details still more disgraceful to the pampered minions of a too long suffering public." For a few moments there was silence. Then the major glanced around his circle of listeners. ..1TT-1I tr II ?...M 1.? i.? *..1.1?.1 " rveu, iicaui, MIU nc, i? uo IUIUCU the paper, "somewhere I have heard the expression 'Didn't I tell you so?' Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. I don't wonder you love your profession." "Surely they cannot believe such an outrageous tissue of lies," burst out Mrs. Wharton vehemently. "Surely the moment our side of the story is heard the public will see the difference." "Our side, my dear madam, is never heard. The newspaper has the public ear. Scandal spreads world wide; truth never reaches half as far. Heara has only one recourse?grin aud bear it, and pray God nothing worse may follow." "What worse can follow, I should like to know?" asked Lee indignantly. "What worse? Why, man, you don't suppose a Chicago paper sends an emissary a thousand miles to work up only one scene in a sensation? Look for the next day's issue and the next. Wait till the letters demanding explanation begin coming in from department, division and army headquarters. Fiat jastitia, ruat caelum, will be The Palladium's cry; Parturiunt montes, nascitur ridiculus mus, the outcome. But all the same, my friends and fellow citizens, we don't get through this row without the biggest kind of a court martial. Ah, the orderly of the commanding officer! Whom does he want?" Not a word was spoken, and every eye was fixed upon the trim figure of the approaching soldier, who entered the gate and, halting respectfully a few yards away from the foot of the steps, saluted: "The colonel's compliments to tho officer of the dAy, and desires that Private Welsh, now in tho guard house, be sent to the office immediately." "Aha!" said Kenyon as the soldier turned away. "Already somebody's been tickling the colonel with a telegram. He's hardly had time to read the papers. Now he will hear Welsh's story, and when Welsh has sufficiently blackened the character of his commanding officer, Hearn will bo afforded his chance. Hearn, my boy, my hearty sympathies are with you. By all means go 011 and prosper in your profession, and learn to love it us I do. Martin, you and he have a moment to spare; como over to my quarters with mo; I want to talk this thing over with you. Good afternoon, Mrs. Lane. Good afternoon, Mrs. Graves. A sudden thought occurs to me. What was it Cambrouue is re ported to have said at Waterloo/ *xne i \ guard dies, but never surrenders.' Here's : I a modern epigram for you; The press ! lies, but never retracts." e [TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK.] y ? i i piscrllancous Reading. ' ABOUT THE GOLD FEVER! ' r HOW IT AFFECTED PRENTICE MUL- ; J FORD'S NATIVE VILLAGE. j t j c i E The Formation of Companies?The Last j t Sunday at Home and the Girl He Left j g Behind Him?Return of an Argonaut, j <5 Evolution, Revolution, Dust and Decay. > I (Copyrighted by the Author. | j ? L // i tain Eben Latham came ? | e?eBip he unloaded ? It was "wash day" and our folks and j some of the neighbors were gathered in | * the "wash house'1 while the colored help ! soused her fat black arms in the suds of the wash tub. ; ? That was the first report I heard from ? California. Old Eben had been a man J of the sea; was once captured by a pirate, " and when he told the story, which he * did once a week, he concluded by rolling ; 1 up his trousers and showing the bullet j t scars he had received. California then was but a blotch of t yellow on the schoolboy's map of 1847. j 1 ft was associated only with hides, tal- i ? low and Dana's "Two Years Before the 1 Mast" It was thought of principally in connection with long horned savage cat- I ' tie, lassos and Mexicans. Very near | c this in general vacancy and mystery was | t the entire region west of the Rocky j c mountains. What was known as the In- j c dian Territory covered an area now oc- < cupied by half a dozen prosperous states, e Texas was then the Mecca of adventur- j ? ere and people who found it advisable to i J leave home suddenly. The phrase in 1 thoee days, "Gone to Texas," had a < meaning almost equivalent to "Gone to ' ~ ' TViot, PalifnrniB tnnlr ltd ' I I UIO + uvu ?w- | r place. . | ) The report slumbered during the sum- i ( mer in our village, but in the fall it com- j 1 menced kindling and by winter it was ; ] ablaze. Then companies commenced i 1 forming. It was not entirely a strange j < l iaad to some of our people. ; 1 Ours was a whaling village. Two- 1 I thirds of the male population were bred | < to the sea. Every boy knew the ropes | | of a ship as soon if not sooner than he did his multiplication table. Ours was a "traveled" community. ' They went nearer the north and south poles than ; most people of their time, and Behring straits, the Kamtschatkan coast, the sea ! of Japan, Rio Janeiro, Valparaiso, the Sandwich islands, the Azores and the i I names of many other remote localities j were words in every one's mouth, and words, too, which we were familiar I i with from childhood. Many of our j ; whalers had touched at San Francisco j and Monterey. There had recently been j a great break down in the whale fishery. ] Whale ships for sale were plentiful. \ Most of them were bought to carry the : , " *48" rush of merchandise and men to California. i By November, 1848, California was j the talk of the village, as it was all that ] j time of the whole country. The great ! gold fever raged all winter. All the old retired whaling captains ! wanted to go, and most of them did go. j i All the spruce young men of the place j wanted to go. Companies were formed, ! j and there was much serious drawing up | I of constitutions and bylaws for their j ' regulation. In most cases the avowed | ! object of the companies, as set forth in ! : these documents, was "Mining aud trad- , ing with the Indians." Great profit was i | expected to be gotten out of the Cali- : ! fornia Indian. He was expected to give { stores of gold and furs in exchange for gilt watches, brass chains, beads and I 1 I glass marbles. The companies bought i safes in which to keep their gold, and also strange and complex gold washing j ' machines, of which numerous patterns j i suddenly sprang up, invented by Yankees i who never saw and never were to see a I gold mine. Curious ideas were enter- < tained relative to California. The Sacramento river was reported as abounding in alligators. Colored prints represented | i the adventurer pursueu oy mese repines. < The general opinion was that it was a fearfully hot country and full of snakes. 1 Of the companies formed in our vicin- ! j ity some had more standing and weight j < than others, and membership in them < was eagerly sought for. An idea pre- ! < vailed that when this moral weight and j ; respectability was launched on the shores ( of California it would entail fortune on \ all belonging to the organization. People \ ( with the lightning glance and divination of golden anticipation saw themselves al- | ready in the mines hauling over chunks ] of ore and returning home weighed down ( with them. Five years was the longest period any one expected to stay. Five , years at most was to be given to rifling , California of her treasures, and then that country was to be thrown aside like a used-up newspaper, and the rich adven- J turers would spend the remainder of ( their days in wealth, j>eace and prosper- ! . ity at their eastern homes. No one talked ^ then of going out "to build up the glorious state of California." No one then j ever took any pride iu the thought that 1 he might be called a "Californian." So J they went. People who could not go invested in : men who could go, and paid half the ex- i . peuse of their passage and outfit on con- i ' dition that they should remit back half ' the gold they dug. This description of * Argonaut seldom paid any dividends. I 1 doubt if ono ever sent back a dollar. I Eastern shareholders really got their money's worth in gilded hojies, which J with them lasted for years. But people never put such brilliant anticipations on 1 the credit side of the account, and merely 1 because that at the last they are not real- < ized. 1 As the winter of " '48" waned the com- ^ panies, one after another, set sail for the f land of gold. The Sunday preceding 1 they listened to farewell sermons at 1 church. I recollect seeing a Bcore or two i of tha young Argonauts thus preached 1 to. They were admonished from the i pulpit to behave temperately, virtuously, 1 wisely and piously. How seriously they t listened. How soberly were their narrow brimmed, straight-up-and-down lit- I tie ping hats of that period piled one , * atop the other in front of them. How \ glistened their hair with the village bar- 1 ber's hair oil. How pronounced the creak 1 of their tight boots as they marched up \ the aisle. How brilliant the hue of their t neckties. How patiently and resignedly t they listened to the sad discourse of the 1 minister, knowing it would be the last i they would hear for many months. How i eager the glances they cast up to the u church choir, where sat the girls they (. were to marry on their return. How few j returned. How few married the girl of , that period's choice. How little weighed > the words of the minister a year after vara in me uun_y ecun/ u* iw dou Francisco life of '49-50. What an innocent, unsophisticated, in* xperienced lot were those forty odd oung Argonauts who sat in those pews! tot one of them then could bake his own read, turn a flapjack, re-seat his trousers >r wash his shirt. Not one of them had lag even a posthole. All had a vague ort of impression that California was a lutshell of a country and that they would ee each other there frequently,and eventlally all return home at or about the ame time. How little they realized hat one was to go to the northern and me to the southern mines and one to reoain in San Francisco, and the three lever to meet again! What glittering fold mines existed in their brains even luring the preaching of that sermon! loles where the gold was put out by the hovelful, from which an occasional towlder or pebble was picked out and lung away. The young Argonaut, church being iismissed, took his little stiff, shiny plug ,nd went home to the last Sunday tea. Lnd that Sunday night, on seeing her tome from church for the last time, he vas allowed to sit up with her almost as ong as he pleased. The light glimmered ong from the old homestead front parlor vindow. The cold north wind without oared among the leafless sycamores and rashed the branches together. It was a ad, sad pleasure. The old sofa they sat ipon would be sat upon by them no more or years. For years? Forever in many ases. Today, old and gray, gaunt and >ent, somewhere in the gulches, "up lorth" somewhere, hidden away in an ibscure mining camp of the Tuolumne, Jtanislaus or Mokelumne, up iu Cariboo ir down in Arizona, still he recollects hat night as a dream. And she? Oh, he dried her eyes and married the stay.t-hoine five years after. A girl can't rait forever. And besides, bad reports iter a time reached home about him. le drank. He gambled. He found fair riends among the senoritaa And, worse ban all, he made no fortune. By spring most of the Argonauts had ! leparted. With them went the flower i the village. Their absence made a rig social gap, and that for many a day. [lie girls they left behind tried for a ime to live on hope, and afterward "took ip" and made the most of the younger generation of boys. After many months came the first leters from San Francisco, and then specinens of gold dust and gold pieces. The fold dust came iq quills or in vials. 1 nixed with black sand. In the course of two years a few of the 'boys" came straggling back. The first >f these arrivals, I remember, walked up mr main street, wearing on his shoullera a brilliant hued Mexican serape. It ireated a sensation. All the small boys >f the village "tagged on behind him," a - ? - s -* i mi. - lort or impromptu guara^i nonor. xue terape was about all he did briug home, le talked a great deal of gold and wrought specimens, but not in sufficient quantity to pay all outstanding bills, rhenext of the returned was a long, jaunt, yellow case of Chargres fever. ECe brought only gloom. Along in 1853-4 iame a few of the more fortunate who lad made a "raise." Two returned and said up their creditors in full who had aeen by creditors given over. But few :ame to remain. They "staid around" tome a few weeks, turned up their noses it the small prices asked for drinks, ngars and stews, treated everybody, grew restless and were off again. Sometimes on visiting my native village I stand before one of those old fashioned houses, from whose front door thirty-four years ago there went forth for the last time the young Argonaut on his way to the ship. There is more than one such house in the village. The door is double, the knocker is still upon It, the window panes are small, the front gate is the same and up to the door the same stones lie upon the walk. But within all are strangers. The father and mother are past anxious inquiry of their son. The sisters are married and live, or have died, elsewhere. Anew generation is all about. They never heard of him. The great event of that period, the sailing of that ship for California, is sometimes recalled by a few?a few rapidly diminishing. His name is all but forgotten. Some have a dim remembrance of him. In his time he was an important young man in the village. He set the fashion in collars and the newest style of plugs. 0 fame, bow fleeting! What is a generation? A puff. A few old maids recollect him. What a pity, what a shame that we do all fade as a leaf! The recollections treated in this chapter are to me as a commencement and an ending of the shadows of a seriesof coming events. Prentice Mulford. our" coasts. Secretary Tracy Describes Their Defenceless Condition.' Few people realize how defenceless the United States is against a seaboard attack. Secretary of the Navy Tracy, in his report, written in November last, gives a graphic description of this avnAooil nnn/liitAli HAQAV.4 ! ruuil 11J vvuuivtvi** . The stretch of coast from fortress Monroe to Boston contains four large cities, one of them a vast aggregation of cities, the storehouses of national wealth, which to-day is entirely accessible to an enemy. The defense of these four commercial seaports is a question of vital interest to the whole United States. The States of Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland md Virginia, are perhaps nearest to the danger, but a danger that threatens the coasts and seaports of these States is a danger to the whole country. Any measure upon which these localities unite, congress could not fail to adopt. "There is 110 other instance in the world at the present time of so much wealth in so exposed a situation. To protect it requires a combination of ;uns afloat and guns 011 land. Especially at that angle made by the shores jf New England and New Jersey, the unction of internal and external lines if communication where so much of the world's commerce centres, should every reasonable precaution be taken to prevent the entrance of a hostile force. Hie peculiar configuration of Long Island Sound, with the harbors and jays affording shelter in its neighbormod, thewhole forming a highly advan:ageous base of operations for a mariinie assailant, is such that no eneny's Heet should ever be allowed to niin entrance therein. > "The harbor of New York ut the jresent time is entirely defenseless. Hie forts ut The Narrows would oiler 10 obstruction to the entrance of a leet. Any vessel, whatever her size >r character, armed with the modern 'ight-inch guns?which, he it remembered are far from being the heaviest runs afloat?could lie out of range of he forts and destroy them. As for Long Island Sound, it has no forts vortliy of the name, and the entrance o the East river by that route is us inobstrueted us The Narrows. It nay be said that guns could be mount'd on shore to lire at such a fleet. The army possesses no modern guns 'or the purpose, and the cast iron [ helling guns now in its possession vould make no more impression on nodern ironclads than hailstones on a oof. It is likewise thought by those vho are ignorant of the actual condiions, that torpedoes would prevent the mtrunce of the fleet. The fact is, we mve no torpedoes. Stationary torpeloes or mines, indeed, we have, or ould make and lay in abundance, but lii attacking fleet could pick them up >r countermine without danger to ! tself, leaving a clear path for its ships. ! "But the calamity would not end vith the payment of money ami the | once in the waters of New York would remain there. Commerce would be annihilated; communications would be absolutely cut off; the ferryboats would cease to run; the Brooklyn bridge would be closed to traffic as the condition of its preservation ; finally the railroad communications would be cut and the food supply of2,500,000 would come to an end. Capitalists might afford to pay a ransom, but famime would fall first on the homes of the poor. The ransom paid by that popution would be anything which it was in their power to give and which the fleet in the harbor would accept as the price of its departure. "If any one fancies that this is an overdrawn picture, let him make a simple calculation of the amount of food daily required by two and onehalf millions of people. Taking the naw ration as a fair allowance of the food that will support an adult man during twenty-four hours and making a proper deduction for women and children, it appears that there is consumed daily in New York and Brooklyn: Bread, 1,575,000 pounds; vegetables, 1,575,000 pounds; meat, 1,350,000 pounds; butter, 225,000 pounds; coffee, 225,000 pounds; sugar, 450,000 pounds. "This amount, or its equivalent, . must, as an average, be received daily in the two cities from outside. Whatever the quantity on hand for consumption, or stored for exportation, it would soon be exhausted, by such a drain when additions to the stock had ceased; and it must be remembered that all the elevators and many of the storehouses containing the supply are oh the water front, and not a few of them on the wrong side of the river. Thoee who recall the scarcity caused by the snow blockade in the great storm of March, 1887, may form some idea of the effect of absolute stoppage of communication. Starvation would be only a question of days. "The present statement is revealing no secret, at least no secret to foreign States. It is only our own people who ignore it. The facts are patent upon the charts of our own coast survey? charts upon which every channel in the water and every topographical detail on the land, ore planted with fatal accuracy, and which any one, American or foreigner, has for years been able to have for the asking. "No land force, however numerous or resolute, could prevent the result I have described. Our present naval force would be equally powerless. Even when all the ships now authorized are completed we should not have a fighting chance against a respectable fleet of foreign ironclads. There are other seaboards besides the Atlantic exposed to attack, other I cities besides New York of commercial importance?New Orleans on the Gulf, San Francisco and Tacoma and Seattle on the Pacific. "Our line of defense is long, and its parts are so divided and so remote that they could not be included in any single plan of concerted operations. 'Each would inevitably become the obiect of senarate attack, and each ; must be effectively and separately j guarded. Nothing short of a force of . ! battle ships, numerous enough to be | distributed in the separate fields of ati tack and able to concentrate on any | threatened point within their own j field, will prove a complete protection. Privacy in Great Cities.?Nowhere, save in the wilderness beyond the frontiers of civilization, can such perfect privacy be enjoyed as in a large city. The denizens of a busy metrop-. olis have enough to do attending to their own affairs. They have no time to bestow on the doings of their neigh1 bors and take no interest in them. The curiosity of villages and small i towns is insatiable. Espionage is the main employment of at least one-third of their inhabitants. On the other hand, if a stranger takes up his abode among them, he becomes at once a center of observation?a target for conjecture?a standing topic of conversation. His antecedents are inquired into, his character is canvassed, his manner of life is carefhlly noted, his dress, features, fortune if he has one, want of it if he has not, are all made the subject of an earnest discussion. A jury of matrons sits on his case daily, until everything ascertainable concerning him has been ascertained, and if inquiry is baffled, guesswork, in due time, takes the place of facts, and he is ''reckoned up" on a fancy basis. A previous history he must have, and, in the absence of any authentic record, he is tarnished with j one by the tougue of gossip. But in a bustling city, you can settle ! down anywhere without attracting the j slightest attention. You care for noi body, and nobody cares for you, as I the song says. The family in the adj joining house does not recognize you I when it sees you, and if you do not publish your name on a door-piaie, I and your servants are not on visiting ! terms with the kitchen circle next ; door, you may remain for a twelvei month as utterly unknown to the beings whose laughter we can hear j through the party wall, as if you dwelt in Central Africa. People talk of seeking retirement in i the country. The idea is ridiculous. I If you want to be isolated from the : world, live quietly in the midst of a densely populated and busy district.? j New York Ledger. Advice from the Barber.?The 1 man in the next chair was complaiuI ing because the ends of his moustache ; didn't grow, says a writer in The Chicago Post. "Stop twirling it, then," said the barber. "Constant twirling splits the i hairs, and as soon as they are split all growth stops immediately. That's [ why you see so many men with moustaches that look as though they were I moth-eaten. If you want your mousi tache to he regular, even, and a thing 1 of beauty altogether, just keep your hands away from it. If it droops at ! the ends and you prefer that it should ! curl upward, Paris fashion, come to j me and let me use the hot irons on it. ! Don't try to give it a curl with your ! fingers. j "Dear me," he continued, as he ran his fingers through the man's hair ( "what a lot of dandruff! What's the use of having dandruff, anyway ?" "Can't help it," said the man. "Yes you can," returned the bar1 her. "There's nothing easier. Get some rocksalt and dissolve a teaspoonful in a glass of hot water. That 's the proportion. Of course you want to mix more than that. Then, every morning and every night, rub the salt water thorougly into your scalp and thoroughly saturate every blessed hair. When you've done this brush vnur imir viornrnnslv with a bristle brush neither too stiff nor too soft, but just medium, for a good ten minutes. Ifyoudothis I'll guarantee that in four weeks all the dandruff will disappear, and your hair will thicken and I grow more rapidly than ever before. | And say, never use a wire hair brush. They're horrible things, and cause more dandruff than anything else I know of.'' fid?" No man is so foolish but he may give another good counsel some times; and 110 man is so wise but he may easily err, if he will take no other's counsel but his own.?Ben. Johnson. tdf Father (coming upon them at 11.30)?Jennie, don't you think it's about time to go to l>ed ? Daughter? Why, yes, papa ; what on earth keeps vou up so late? / La