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^ ? lewis m. grist, proprietor. j ^it Jndependcnt Jamilij gjercspaper: J'oi; the |romofion of tty folitical, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Jntercsts of the ^outh. J TERMS?$2.00 A YEAR IX ADVANCE. VOL. 39. YORKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JUiNTK 7, 1893. j NO. 23. BY HOW^ ^ [Copyrighted, 18ttt, by I). Applelon & > * * with SYNOPSIS. CHAPTjilts I and II.?Henry Hruce*, a wealthy ranebinan in Texas, loses his horse while on a hunting trip and after rough experiences trying to ford rapids in Colorado river is helped across in a rowboat by a native nymph, Miss Cynthia Dallas! CHAPTER III?Continued. t"Dead!" exclaimed Alcides Dallas, "thet's wot I'd like to know. Mattermony," he remarked, deliberately stretching out his cramped legs, burying * * * * iV- 1 X nis nanas oeep in ine pocaeis 01 uu ducking trousers and gazing dejectedly before him with bent head as if consulting an unhallowed past, "mattermon/ is a lottery, my friend, whar thar's more blanks than prizes, and, understand me, I'm capable o' jedgin, fur 1 * lived with Marier nigh onto 10 years, and hevin graduated?not with hign honors, but all the same havin graduated?I'm tol'blo well up on the subjec'. "It's jes' ez I say to Cynthy here. She's a good little girl, though, and don't gin'rally give me any trouble on thet score?nofc-to say thet I wouldn't be glad to see Cynthy hitched in clouble harness, purvided her pardner was an honest sort o' hoss, warranted sound and kind and not likely to kick in the traces. But thar's alius thet risk, and nothin's ino' uncertain than marryin, I a1 low, unless it be swappin hosses. My old granny useter say to my sisters?and God knows why I didn't profit by it, I heard it all my life?'Gals, don't be in a* hurry, fir , ef you git a good husband you'll le well paid fur wai'in, and ef you make a mistake you'll hev plenty long enough to live with him.' I kin only repeat the same thing to Cynthy and hope she'll hev more sense than I hed on the subjec'. Still Cynthy knows wot I think a'ready." He paused and glanced significantly at Mr. Buck Jerrold, who pulled his hat brim over his eyes, as if to shade them from the glare of the fire. Cynthia moved uneasily in her corner, blushed crimson and stole a glance at Bruce from under ber drooping lashes. The old man drained his tumbler to the dregs, set it down on the table with emphasis and proceeded: "Still, all this ain't -nuther here nor there. I kem to Texas arter the war from Caroliny. Marier and I hed got * along pretty well back in the States; fit occasionally, ye know, but thet's expected arter'the fust two years. Things was flat in Caroliny. I 'lowed to git out whar the kentry was new; 6old out, tuck Cynthy?she was only a baby then ?and Marier?I might better hev left her, but I didn't know enough?and kem to Texas and started into the hotel bizness. I done well 'nuff at fust and made money. My house was full all the while of sheep and cattlemen?good pay and plenty of it. "But bimeby, arter the novelty wore off, Marier allowed thet the kentry didn't quite kem up to her expectations and begun takin an inventory of the guests stoppin at the house ter alleviate her grief at the fact. The fust feller thet . nhr ryrinnd find lrnlkpr1n+ed to ov?coi"ni> tWmonotony of the frontier was this here Capting Foraker I loaded 'Marv' fur this arternoon. t She met him at a 'barbecue' and run with himconsid'rable fur a spell. Of course I had suthin to say on that subjec', and arter awhile this Foraker he quit callin. It might hev bin bekase I was right smart at makin warts on silver dollars throwed up in the air them days, but I don't discuss that subjec'. Then there was a sewin masheen agent who presented Marier witl a masheen, and thereby savin Marier * * consid'rable sewin at nights give her an opportunity of showin her gratitude by playin the piany fur him onnecessarily in the parlor. "About the same time my mendin began to be uncertain and permiskiss, and the fam'ly menagerie was on daily exhibition. The agent fin'ly went east, and Marier languished for awhile, but one day a julery drummer kem through?a slick chap, with plenty o' samples o' pinchbeck and gewgaws. Her spirit? rose ag'in and never faltered from thet time forward. They rose so high tjiis time thet she left town with thet feller one night, and I ain't laid eyes on her i... beiice. iuaiici ucvci uuuo niiu^o uj halves, and I never could quite onder% stand why it was she left Cynthy here behind, but it was a fortunate thing for me she did, or I reckon I'd setted my account with a 6-shooter during the nest fortnight. Not but wot I'd been willin to 6ettle hers fust, though," he added significantly. "I'd preferred to have left this world with sunthin to my credit. Arter that I quit the hotel bizness and kem here. I lent money on live 6tock and did pretty well. Buck here and me own right smart o' cattle together, and ho looks arter 'em, bein foreman o' Judge Reynolds' ranch and sprier and younger. I ain't heard of Mrs. Dallas sence, and now I don't wanter. "It's gettin late." he said abruptly, "and I reckon we'd better make down." He rose with a yawn and an impatient kick at the dying embers. Cynthia rose, too, and calling the dogs put them out of doors for the night, after which she dropped the gentlemen a quaint courtesy and retired to her bedroom. The old man went to a closet, from which he took three gray blankets and threw them down on the floor. "One apiece," he said with primitive hospitality, drawing off his boots and wrapping his ducking coat around them to serve for a pillow. He rolled himself in his blanket, his feet toward the fire, and was soon asleep and snoring loudly. Nothing was left but for Bruce and Jerrold to follow suit. This they accordingly did. But toward morniDgthey were aroused by Alcides rising impatiently and stumping noisily 10 the door. A few minutes elapsed and there was a fearful explosion, the bare room lighting up with the red flash. Bruce sat up at once, rubbing his sleepy eyes and inquiring the cause of the disturbance. Even in his confused alarm he heard Cynthia laughing to herself in her little bedroom. "It's nothin but cows," said Mr. Buck Jerrold, turning over with a yawn iu his blanket. "The old man left a pair of good breeches out on the fence to dry this evenin, and I reckon them sale starved cattle hev been chawin onto 'em in the course o' their pryin round. He's seen fit to turn loose onto them the lor 1 which he said he givo 'Marv' this arte. noon un account o r oraaer. 11 s a way of saltin 'em that's quite poplar here at the ranch." CHAPTER IV. Dawn came, lacing with rose and amber the severing east. With the fir.'.t rays of light the cries of wild geese were heard flying in long harrow toward the river, and also the faint clang of mallard and shelldrake passing overhead. These sounds awoke Bruce, who rose cramped and stiff and leaned against the chimney/' pieco in lazy admiration of the pageantry of early morning seen through the sliutterless windows of the ranch. TT/v /lr*wr? of flift fnoiKlo/1 linnrv Xlt| uv " " **v luv luuiuivu iitap of blankets at his feet. Only one of hi 5 companion bedfellows met his eye. Mi. Buck Jerrold had already arisen, leaving his disordered enwrappings in a tangled coil, very much as a snake casts its skin. The old man, his hands folded upon his breast, lay flat upon his back, snoring dismally. Bruce regarded him a moment with an amused smile, and then true to the sportsman's instinct drew on his shooting jacket, caught up his gun from the r m to lRD seely. Co. Published by special arrangement: them.] corner of the hearth and stepped oul i into the cool, clear air. As he did so he beheld Mr. Buck Jer rold saddling his roan cow pony ant j evidently making preparations for ar early departure, j ' 'Where away at this hour of the mom j ing?" he inquired, sauntering up. "Back to the ranch. I've got more'r , 50 young lambs to look after, I reckon." "You'ro not going off before break; fast?" Bruce inquired, leaning on th( ' gate. . "I reckon so. I don't call 10 miles - ? ? X V _ 1 M : afore breakfast any great anuses. "That depends on the rider," Bruce re| plied pleasantly. "I don't think any one could hire mo to ride 10 miles this morn| ing without a cup of coffee at least. 1 | feel as lame and stiff as if I'd been | dragged at the end of a lariat through a thick chaparral." 1 "Oil, I've lied my coffee, you can be4 : yer life!" Jerrold replied. "Amelia's up already; she ain't the woman to let a man start out without suthin under his jacket. I say. pardner, ef you're in any great hurry to get back to the Mesquite valley, btin ez you're turned foot loose ! and without a nag to ride on, ye can hev Buckshot here fer $25," indicating liis I roan. "He ain't handsome, but he's good j for twice thet distance, ez smart ez ye | want to june him. He's fast and sure footed both and don't buck nuther. Ye needn't keep yer friends waitin and anxious. I kin rope one o' the old man's i 'kaveyard' and get off easy with half an hour's delay." He paused, bringing the much lauded Buckshot smartly around by a blow of his quirt as he did so, at the same time stooping and tightening the flank | girth. Buckshot, a large, raw boned, spotI ted liorse with vicious eyes and Roman nose, laid his ears back in protest; then ! he sprang clear of the ground with back arched like a cat and rigid legs, striking the earth at every bound, as if there were no such property known to matter as elasticity. He varied this unique performance at intervals by a plunging movement forehand aft, like a stout ship in a heavy sea. The result was soon obvious. .\mid a whirling vortex of blinding dust and flying hoofs the saddle began to turn. When Buckshot suspended his exertions a few minutes later i and struck a snortiner and indignant tab i lean with fiery eyes and flaring nostrils the saddle was upside down and hanging loosely between his four feet. "No!" said Bruce quietly, vaulting lightly over the fence, after witnessing this interesting performance. "I see now : plainly that Buckshot does not buck. He is only a little opposed to your 'cinck] ing' the flankgirth. But I think I shall get along here very well, Mr. Jerrold until my partner, Phil Kernochan, looks I mo up or something favorable happens. He knew that my general direction was the Colorado river, and that I was oul after turkeys. Meanwhile the hunting is good, and I think I'll shoot a brace ol mallards before the family is stirring, Adios! Drop in and see us the next time you're over our way. There they ' come nowl" he exclaimed, shoving a couple of shells into his gun, as he marked a small flock of duck coming down the i wind. "Adios!" So saying he turned his back upon the : discomfited horse trader, and Mr. Bucli Jerrold sprang at once into the saddle. Beforo he was fairly seated the vicious : Buckshot essayed to repeat his previous exploit, but he reckoned without his host. Mr. Jerrold had improved the interval to lash a small stick l ack of the pommel, and now, braced firmly by his viselikc thighs, he drove his cruel spurs into the flanks of the horse at every bound and ruthlessly applied the heavy quirt. "Everythin's fair in a boss trade," he shouted, apparently enjoying the animal's gymnastics. "I swapped this critter yestiddy for a pair of leather leggim and a boss hair lariat to boot. The boss I got rid of, though, lied the lampers, an was dog poor at thet. The fust time the other feller uttempts to put him on grain | he'll find he's got a losin contract." He clapped his spurs again into the discomfited Buckshot, and wheeling liirn sharply around by a jerk on the bridle was oif like a thunderbolt. Bruje was already far away in pursuit of the flying mallard. He had marked them jlown in a long water hole bordered by low bushes. As he crept up to the edge of the pool he caught a glimpse of the "green head" drake, a startled silhouette against the misty bank, with neck outstretched and eye alert. His glossy mates swung silently ! upon the silver mirror of the pool in the morning's gray. In an instant the wary bird was up j and away, but Bruce stopped him with his right barrel, and he fell with a heavy plump upon the farther bank, his red legs straddling awkwardly as he came down. The next moment the air was full of flying teal, rising with frightened clamor and whirring away to the left. Bruce let the other mallard go and gave the teal his left barrel, thinking of Cynthia and her damaged bonnet. Three j dropped to his shot. He picked up his game hurriedly, not without a little in' ward exultation. There was one drake among the teal. The bright little fellc?v fairly gleamed in brown and emerald? his head a banded flash of color, his wings a fluttering revelation. Bruce stood still a moment, regarding admiringly the beauties of the dying bird. A light film was setting on the fliiiiViim' eve Tic could not belli thinkiii" what au improvement he might make n Cynthia's appearauco were he enabled to preserve the beauty of the plumage for her adornment. With masculine self confidence he aspired for the moment to become her milliner. "Ain't he a daisy?" said a musical voice. He turned in surprise. Cynthia stood before hint?a blushing Aurora, the roses of the dawn in her dimpled cheeks, the amber of the sunrise in her golden hair. With the occasional recklessness of "her sex, she had arrayed herself more with an eye to picturesque effect than com" r?i l i.1. ? c a moil prudence, one recoguizeu Hie met that tliere was an observer upon the scene of action more appreciative than usual. Under the circumstances her defiance of season and climate had a touch of sublimity. She had donned a palo blue muslin dress, exquisitely becoming, 1 grant, but a relic of the previous summer and of a much higher temperature. The hat on her head was of straw and supported a whole parterre of roses and a long, curling feather, and she had on a pair of high heeled French slippers. They were quite wet through, and the embroidered stockings, which a charming sense of consistency in dress had impelled her to wear, were beaded and flashing with dew. Immediately after addressing Bruce she glanced down at her feet with some solicitude, her light skirts gathered daintiy in her left hand. She frowned at the slippers, already turning purple at the toes. "I reckon I've spoiled 'em the first time I put 'em on," she said. "However, there's lots more where they came from!" tossing her head with the general suggestion that French slippers are a gratuitous donation from obliging shoemakers to the fair sex?an attitude quito careiuuy preserved ny womauKinu toward eligible bachelors, along with a becoming disregard of the necessity of capital. "Is thet green wing for me, Mr. Bruce?" she inquired, with a politeness | of manner which seemed quite as un| seasonable, in her own case, as her fault I less attire, ami 111 a sense to have been ' [ ' assumed with the gorgeous hat. She i I glanced eagerly at Bruce as lie stood j ! separating tl.e bright pinion from tho duck's body and flashing the gleaming ; plumes in the sunlight. I I I "/ reckon Pre spoiled 'cm the first time I ; . i put 'cm on," she said. > "Oh, what a lovely little cluck?a ban. ! tamPshe exclaimed, with a sudden fern- , iuine intuition of ornithology. "Isn't he 1 i j cute?" Then her eye fell upon a blood : i Bpot on the breast, and she looked sud- ' j denly grave. "Do you reckon it hurt him | ; much to kill him?" she pleaded. "Not any more than was strictly neces, sary under the circumstances," .Bruce i replied,with thosportsman's indifference. 1 "Good morning, Miss Cynthia. Yes, the i green wing is intended for you, but I i ! hardly expected to see you at so early an ' hour. You look like Aurora, I assure i I you." "Like a roarer!" queried Cynthia, knit1 j ting her brows in puzzled surprise, j "Well, now, thet is a compliment?be- j ' fore breakfast too! And I haven't said hardly a word yet. I should think I was Aulus. Did ye hear him bay when I first I came out this morning?" "No," replied Bruce. "I must have been intent on the mallard." He held up the bright plumaged bird by one leg 1 as he 6poke. "But I understand how Aulus felt, I think. He is not in the habit of meeting a goddess before breakfast. It disturbs the calm equipoise of . nis mina. Cynthia glanced at him in embarrassment, yet not without a certain admirnj tion. "Dear ine!" she sighed, "you're 80 I dre'dful high toned it most makes my | headache to see what you're drivin at. If you're goin to talk to me, Mr. Bruce, : you must cut some of those words, or { it'll interfere with our getting acquainted." She looked up at him in bewitching 1 perplexity. The level rays of the rising sun shone full in her eyes, and she drew down her hat brim with an impatient dimpled hand. Thus besought in reference to his j mythological quotations, Brace made haste to explain briefly to Cynthia the fable of -Aurora and Tithonus. She listened with amused surprise. When he had finished with the lamentable old age that overtook that unfortunate lady's . 1 husband, she sighed and expressed her,:self: "So he turned out to be a grasshop- i i per at last, eh? Thet was pleasant! j , I Served her right, though, for wantin | | him to live forever. A girl oughtn't to ! ! get gone on any man to that extent? j forever is an awful long trip! A grass- ] ! ' hopper. Mebbe thet's what father j i means when he says matterinony has i , j so much to do with 'kiekih?'" She j glanced inquiringly up at Bruce. The , latter laughed outright at this com- : mentary. At once she turned her back ! j ! on him and regarded the sunrise. . i "So you think I look like thet, do I j you?" she said after a pause, turning to j . | him with a sudden gratification of man- j [ ner and pointing with a rosy forefinger I to where the tints of dawn were being j rapidly lost in the splendor of the com- ! ing day. | j Bruce nodded. i ! She walked on a few minutes in si- i I j lence, with gathered skirts and a coy I scrutiny of his fuce from under her j drooping lashes. A pleased smile lin- j gered on her face. , I "How is it that you happen to be out J . i to see the truth of the comparison?" the j i young man inquired. . "Oh, I had to turn the bucks out," she , replied. "1 usually do. 'I started 'em , up the valley, and then I heard you i shoot and thought I'd come out and see ! , j what you'd got." No one would have dreamed from her | manner that her motive was aught but curiosity. But there was the testimony of the elaborate toilet, and young men j are perhaps more discerning than the , enemy imagine. The homage of beauty is always flattering. Bruce was con scions of rising a trifle in his own estimation as they walked on together. ! | Alcides Dallas had arisen in their ab] seuce and sat upon the doorstone of the ranch awaiting them in a negligee so ! startling and characteristic as to impress the young ranchman that attention to , details in matters of the toilet were certainly not a family trait. Ho was without coat and hat, and his stockinged feet showed that his rawhide boots were j probably still performing the office of his pillow. His long, gray locks straggled over his face, and he was fiendishly occupied with his violin. His perform- ( ance was of the usual dolorous character. "Is there any particular name for that tune?" inquired Bruce of Cynthia as the jarring discords seemed to insult the tranquil serenity of the early morning. Cynthia turned her head a moment and listened attentively. She might have been a mocking bird, so characteristic was tho action. "I clean forget," she said finally, "whether father calls thet the 'Husband's Lament' or the 'Texan Honeymoon,' but it don't make much difference which. Father's playin is pretty much alike, and if ye remember thet his tunes all have Kometliin to do with mar , ryin you can't be very far wrong, no ( matter what you call 'em. 1 reckon , mother didn't give him very much variety in her housekeepin, for it's hud an awful monotonous effect on his music. ' Don't speak to him now, Mr. Bruce. He's alius easier in his mind if ye let him . play a tune through. To stop him short i in the middle is harrowin to his feelin's and gen'rally crops out arterwards. Come in right away and have breakfast." And without a word to her sire she ; piloted the amused Bruce past the al>. sorbed violinist, leaving him still fidi dling violently upon the doorstep. Aulrs ; stopped at the door to lift his nose to the , ) sky and utter a long drawn, agonizing ' howl of protest, with which canine comi mentary upon the unmelodiousness of the old man's music lie, too, abandoned him and went within. The day wore away into the early aft- i enioon. The nortnwara snacrows or trie [ live oaks were swinging gradually to the , easf It was just after dinner, and the wintry sunlight on the southern wall of i the ranch beat softly down with a grateful and cheering warmth. In the sunniest angle of the ranch 1 Bruce and his white haired host were seated smoking. The old man, enjoying i the aroma of one of the ranchman's ci- i i | gars which he mumbled at a very precarious angle between his scant teeth, wa? in an expectant frame of mind and unusually genial. Cynthia was seated j W.nontli n livo nalr nlnvinir with n fliwn "Do you reckon them folks o' your'n '11 j be anyways anxious about ye?'' old Dal- 1 las inquired, blowing out a cloud of 1 emoke as if the chief luxury in smoking was expelling it forcibly. "I hardly think so," Bruce replied, lazily tilting his chair against the side of the house, with his hands clasped behind his head. He had thrown his hat on the ground, and the whiteness of his forehead contrasted with the bronzed hue of his cheeks and the luxuriance of his j square, curling beard. "My partner, 1 Kernochan, understands me pretty well ' by this time and knows 1 generally come out all right, so he won't give himself any uneasiness. There may be a little fuss when my horse turns up at the ranch, though. I shouldn't bo surprised if Phil rode over here tomorrow." "Waal, you're talcin it pretty easy here, seein ez they hain't the least idea whar ye be," returned Alcides frankly. "Butthet's what wo want to hev ye do, though," he added after a pause, fearing his meaning might be misconstrued. "Visitors with agreeable manners and good terbaclcer is all fired sca'co in this country," he continued, with the general air of paying a compliment. Ho rose from his chair with an effort /lue to rheumatism and the uncompromising character of his knee joints and swept the horizon with an anxious eye. "Dnm mv skin, ef thar ain't the sheriff. after all!" he exclaimed as a small man, mounted on a sorrel horss, rode up to the pate at a fox trot, and throwing himBelf from the saddle proceeded to tether the animal by the lariat which hung from the pommel. His nimblo fingers were quick at the task. He came toward them with a rapid step, his revolvei.. swinging in their holsters and his spurs . slinking as he strode. "Waal, Ike Mosely, ye'vo got over here at.last, hev ye?" said Alcides, stumping j forward eagerly to meet the newcomer. . "I've been a-worryin about this killin o' j my stock. I reckon ye'll beleeve me when I tell ye I'm right glad to see ye." "Ain't long to stay nuther," returned the sheriff, grasping the proffered hand of old Dallas with a hurried shake and dropping it again immediately. "I nev er struck sech a rush o' bizness in the hull course of my natural life. Ez it \s j I've lied two liangin's already this week, to say nothin o' these rumors o' yours about boss stealin and hog killin. And now jes' i*z I was jumpin in the saddle to ride over hero I got word thet the road agints have begun ag'in between Lampasas and Belton. Thet means all I kin swing to for four weeks certain. 1 Ef things go on at this rate, they'll hev Ike Mosely's hide by the timo o' the j spring roundups." "But it's mighty dry talkin," he said abruptly, glancing at Dallas with a significant eye, "an I've come all the way from San Marcus to look into this yer i bizness o' yourn. How did that liquor 1 recommended to ye turn out?" "I reckon it's pretty near all turned out," replied Alcides ruefully, somewhat j discomfited by the urgent business manner of the sheriff. "Aineelyer!" he called, j "bring out what's left in thet thar bot- | tie, and a glass for Mr. Mosely. Ike, this is Mr. Bruce, of the Mesquite vul- i W rnnrli stomrinir with us for a snell." ho concluded with a grave look, intended j to cover nil allusion to the ranchman * mishap, but calculated to impress the I sheriff with the idea that Bruce was a j highwayman in disguise. "Yer hand, Mr. Bruce," said Mosely, ! stepping quickly forward, with a keen, | penetrating glance from under his shaggy brows and a grip like a steel claw. "Ah, Miss Cynthia! Or is it spring al- ; ready, and are the bluebirds with us i again?" he remarked with easy gallantry ' as his eyes fell upon Cynthia and her muslin dress. He doffed his broad sombrero suddenly, exposing his high forehead and scant hair. His hard, blue eyes were restless and cold, like chilled steel. He twitched ! his huge mustaches nervously. ' 'It'd be a pretty bold bluebird to shake hands like this with a sparrow hawk!" replied Cynthia with dimpled audacity, coming quickly forward and holding out a little hand. "Glad to see you, sir! How are all the birds down your way? ! kites, road runners and other jail birds?" j "Ho, ho!" laughed the sheriff, "ye're I after me this time, aren't ye? Guess ye j must hev got up early this mornin?" "She did!" said "old Dallas emphatically, glancing at Bruce?"earlier than I've seen her get up since the last norther, j She was thet anxious about them bucks ! this mornin thet she turned 'em out j afore sun and nan 'em more'n a mile up ! the creek in them new slippers I got her j for the 'Round-up Ball.' Strange goin's on for a young gal, Mosely?strange goin's on!" "Sho!" said tho sheriff, laughing. " 'Tain't every day they's a good lookin young feller 'round to get up for, is it, Miss Cynthia? If they were all old and grayheaded?like me and your old man ?I couldn't blame ye, ef ye never got up!" He glanced around to note the effect of his words, but Cynthia had disap- | peared. At tho first allusion to her early morning ramble, she had stampeded the fawn and scampered away in pursuit. Mosely turned and shot a glance at. Bruce. He was smoking with easy nonchalance. But here tho approach of the ! ebony Amelia, bearing a frothy mixture which looked uncommonly like a milk I punch, interrupted his reflections. "Heali am de boss bev'age arter boss- | back ridin, sah!" exclaimed the sable Hebe, handing the tumbler to the sheriff. ) "Dey ain't nothin wot goes quite so fur or strikes quite so neah de spot. It stim'lates de functions an 'suscitates de system at de same time, sah! Besides,"she added with a crafty wink, "I didn' wan' to scare yo' nohow wid de state ob dat bottle arter de eggnog dis'pation ob de las' ebenin!" ' Let you alone, Amelia, for takin care of me!" returned Mosely, draining the | mixture with a grateful smack. "Thet j puts a heart in a man d'rectly. Now, Al, what's all this about hogs and bosses?" ho inquired, sitting down on an adjacent nail keg. with a careless hand upon the butt of a G-shooter and his head one side in the attitude of listening. "Thanks! That's my size every time!" he remarked as Bruce rose to his feet, offering him a cigar as he did so. He bit the end off meditatively. ' "Ye needn't go off mad. There ain't anythin private about this yere bizness ?is there, Al?" the sheriff inquired, gazing after the ranchman as he sauntered away. "Not much! The more public ye make it, the better I'll like it," returned the elder Dallas. "I want ye to shoot them fellers or hev this maror lerin stopped." Bruce did not reply. He was already out ol' hearing. Ike Mosely glanced critically at his broad shoulders and well proportioned limbs. In the repose of 1 his youthful strength he seemed the very incarnation of the sturdy live oaks among which he strode. "A likely young feller," said Mr. ...a.; ,.i, mxjqvi \ , r>iiiui\ui^ \ ivutniij -uiivt the end of his cigar nervously. "Somehow I rather like his style. In a row I reckon you could count on him. Al, if you're iookin for a son-in-law thet'd do I you and Cynthia both credit, you'll do 1 well to encourage thet chap, lie has my be?t wishes. He's got sand." And with this official summary of a husband's requisites he addressed him- . self to the business before him. [TO IIK C'ONTINITKI) NKXT WKKK.] } I Taking tiik Wai.i..?The following from Uosswell's "Life of Johnson" may j serve to fix the date of the present i custom of walking on the right hand side of the footway. "In the last age," says Johnson, i "when my mother lived in London, j there were two sets of people?those J who gave the wall and those who took it?tlioii?>!o><>nble tint! theoiiarrolsome. ' When I returned to Lichfield, after having been in London, my mother I asked me wether I was one of those j who gave the wall or took it. Now it j is fixeil that every man keeps to the j right, or if one is taking the wall another yields it, and it is never a dispute.'' The period to which this is referred is 1737. I do not think that the custom of walking on the right hand side is very strictly observed in provincial , towns. At all events, says Notes and Queries, one notices that country eons- j ins when in London frequently persist : in taking the wrong side. ; 1CENTUHV Of (iiWTH I What the Next Hundred Years May Bring Forth. A GLIMPSE OF GLORIOUS VISTAS. ! Dp. Tulmagu Foresees a Itosy Future. Powderly's Philosophic Prediction?W. R. Graee on Commercial Development. Future ol the Drama?A Bright Woman '? Fo recant. Copyright, JMW. by Amerloun Press Association^ When you thrust me with about twenty sharp interrogation points about what will be the condition of the world a hundred years from now, I must first say that there is a possibility that the world by that time may be a heap of ashes or knocked to flinders. All geologists agree in saying that the world is already on Are Inside. All thut Chicago saw of her big fire some twenty years ago was not a spark compared with the conflagration now raging in the hulk of this old ship of a world. And'tuen the earthquakes?witness Charleston and San Francisco and .lava And then the comets shooting recklessly about, and the big chunks from other worlds falling in Kansas and Iowa or picked up by i he British mu scum on the other side of the sea The fact is that our world needs to take out a policy in some astronomical fire in Rtinince or accident insurance company. From the way the world goes on it is certain something is the matter with it. The volcanoes are merely the regur gitation caused by internal cramps. I am not apprehensive about the world, and I sleep well nigh us, and 1 do not want to frighten nervous people, lint considering what is going on down in the depths of the earth and what is flying all about uh I am surprised the world has not long ago gone out of business. But suppose it lasts?and I hope it will, for it is a grand old world and worth saviug- what, then, will be its condition in HUM? In medicine)* Well, cancer and con sumption will lie as easily cured as influeii mi or a "run round.'* Theology f Far more religion than now. The technicalities nothing. The spirit of religion dominant. Minister's war hatchet buried beside Modoc's tomahawk. Condition of capital and labor?1 At peace by the prevalence of the golden rule, which enjoins us to do to others as we would have them do to ua. rreatmenioi cnmumisr itisuiis vmii umc ventilation and sunlight and bathroom and libraries and Christian influences which will be reformatory instead of damnatory. Kducationai methods? The stufling ma :hiue which we call the school system, .vhich is making the rising generation a ace of invalids, will be substituted by something more reasonable. No more school girls with spectacles at fourteen, their eyes having been extinguished by overstudy, with overwrought brain, and no more boys In their dying dream trying to recite some thing in higher mathematics. What American now living will lw the most honored In 1993? By that tii:?e Ion gevity will be so improved that 150 years will be no unusual age to reach. So I answer your last question as to what American now living will be most honored in 1993 by saying that American now sleeps in the cradle on the banks ol the Hudson, or the A lubuma, or the Oregon, or the Ohio, a rattle in hand, gum swollen with a new tooth, aud will soon undertake a course of measles and mumps. But he will pull through and advance until i see him in 1993 presiding at a hanouet, and as he rises to speak I hear him say: "Gentlemen. 1 was born in the latter part of the Nineteenth ecutury. and hero wo Are in the latter part of the Twentieth, and the world has been improving all the time, and 1 now offer the toast for the evening Charge vour glasses with apolliuaris water and lemonade and drink deep to fids sentiment: "The newspaper uress. May Its lufluence In the Twenty first century be as happy and prosperous an in the Nineteenth und Twentieth centuries!" T I)K WITT TALMAGK. W. R. Grace Foresees Wonderful Com* tuerclul Developments. I look for very great changes, all of them In the direction of business prosperity in American commercial development in the next century 1 expect to se-i a great mer chant marine, although 1 am one of those who believe that this cannot be procured by i.ih uniu mere are cimngcs in uur mwr gation laws. The substitution of iron and steel for wood and of steam for sail power, which hits Been going on with great rapidity in the past twenty years, accounts, 1 think, for the decadence in American shipping partly, and if Congress shall so legislate that Americans can compete with foreign shipowners there is likely to be a revival of American shipping interest and shipbuilding and the development of a race of American sailors ;ike those of former times, who were as fine sailors as trod the decks, and who wei-e at the same time really distinguished from all other seamen by their business ability. The development of the great west, and especially of the south and southwest, will, I think, be as prodigious in '.he early part of the coming century as has been that of the states of the Ohio valley under the influence of railway construction. I am In cllued to think that the American farmer must either find new wheat lands by a well considered and elaborate general system of Irrigation or special methods of cultivation, or else the American people will be compelled In the next century to import in Btead of export wheat. On the other hand, the active men of the Twentieth century are going to see a magnificent development of corn and other cereals in the fertile lands of the great southwest, and American genius is goiug to show Europe how nutritive and desirable American corn is for food purposes when It is properly cooked. For that reason we shall probably find that our exports of corn will more than make up for the falling off in the exports of wheat. But 1 think that oue of the greatest commercial developments is going to be, so far as the United States is concerned, in the relations between this country and those of the South American continent. The Andes mountains are already surmounted by a railroad which is going to open up that maguificent plateau, or montunu. which stretches to the eastward from the Andes. As fines, cotton country as is in the world is there, and with the opening of this railroad a particularly fine grade of cot ton will be developed. There are millions of acres suitah for tobacco culture, and higher up there is a wheat belt of virgin soil ulmost as large as i3 the great wheat belt of the U nited States. Besides, there are the great silver mines of the Cerro de Pasco, known even from the time of the Iucas, which history has so muny romances about, anil by record for taxation have produced since the conquest over $420,000,000. Now men are living who will see this enormous country brought under development. It will bring the South American countries into closer relation with the United States. There of course will be competition, hut competition of this sort ought not to he unhealthy, and I presume that in the next century there may he built a railway reaching so far that it may lie possible to enter a palace ear in New \ ork city and to ride in it to Lima. Santiago, ltio Janiero or Buenos Ay res. Now railroad development will do for South Auieri3a what it has done for the United States, and the activity of our commerce will bring the United Suites into very close alliance with the southern continent and cause a development of commercial relations the consequence of which cannot be realized today The Twentieth century is going to he a great era for South America, and that continent cannot flourish without benefiting the United States. I am one of those who believe that the commercial and manufacturing development of this country during the Twentieth century will he such that the genius of the American people will make it perfectly possible for this country to compete successfully with all the great manufacturing centers of Europe in a great majority of the classes of goods that are now being marketed by England, France and Germany, not only in South America, hut in all the great centers of commerce throughout the world. If- GRACE. Mr. I'owdcrly's Prediction. 'in,r.,.? ...mimw ei.tohriitpil in 17'J2. G3.000. 000 ill 1S93, and 300,000,000 will in 1993 celebrate the landing of Col tun bun. They will be eductited and refined, for the arts and sciences will be taught in the public schools. Not only will the mind of the pupil be trained, but the hand ius well, and each child will be instructed in the manual of tools; they will be instructed in the functions of every part of the human system; "man, know thyself" will have a meaning in 1993. The economic and social questions [ the day will also netaugiit in mescnooi: there will he no uneducated persons to at is drags on the car of progress. The form of government will be simplei the initiative and referendum will prevai . and lawmakers will not be the autocrat they now are, for they will truly registt the will of the people; they will not dictat to them as at present. The common weal t will be organized on industrial lines; lata organizations will have disappeared, fc j there will he no longer a necessity for tliei I existence. An ideal democracy will stan upon the foundations we of 1893 areereci inc. Railroads, water courses, telegraphs, tel< phones, pneumatic tui>esand all other met! ods of transporting passengers, freight an intelligence will be owned and operated b the government. The earnings of then agencies will swell the public treason i Homes will flourish, for they will no longe be taxed. Instead of devoting so muc time and money to the erecting of gren pilOlIC Hiruci lir*?, us III i>rearui>, me eix-< tion and adornment of the home will n ceive first consideration. Kach home will be regarded asacontr bution to the wealth and l>eauty of the nr tion; the earnings of public concerns wi! defray the cost of maintaining streets, sen ers, waterworks and light and heat gi\;in establishments. Cremation will take th | place of the present system of burying th dead; the living will be healthier, for th earth will not be poisoned through intei I ment of infection. The contents of sewer | will not flow into river and stream to sen deadly vapors through the air, but will b utilized to enrich the harvest yielding eartl: The progress of the lower grades of an; inal life has been skillfully guided un i hastened until we may now assert that cat tie and fowl are approaching perfection. I 1093 the same attention will be bestowed o j the human nice, and, instead of rushin blindly forward, increasing and multiplj ing at haphazard, humanity will knowing ly and intelligently advance to higher alt; tudes. There will be no very rich or ver poor, for long before 1993 dawns upon th . world the industrialists will have learne that the raising of large families is bu ! unother way to create slaves to perforin th drudgery of the wealthy, and the famil | will be restricted to the capacity of the pai ents to maintain ami educate, i Under such conditions prisons and pool houses will decline, and divorces will no | be considered necessary. The system whicl makes criminals of men and women am at the same time makes millionaires c others will have disappeared. As a const j quence the confinement and punishtnen of criminals will occupy but little of th thought or time of the men of 1993. T. V. POWDKKLY. From an Kdltor of The Twentieth Centurj 1 find that 1 am unable to prophesy. Th future is u fmicylund pulace whose portal I cunuot enter. Moving toward it fror j the Here I am charmed with its brillian | facade. What sculptured splendors?pot ticoes, pillars, statues, windowsl What i j within? Hut as I advance the airy strut ture recedes. I caunot push beyond it threshold; its doors never open; 011 thei other side are silence and mystery I kno\ not what is there. Today I was reading the prophecies c Babeuf. He was a French revolutionarj a coworker of Robespierre and Condorcet In 1792, |K>ssessed of fundamental sociologi truths, and inspired by the political projj I ress of the times, he foretold for 1892 th I abolition of rank, of poverty, of social ii justice. He saw clearly the relation c j land to labor and the manifold benefits c co-operation. He expected all the worl ! soon to see what he did So he described dreamer's 1892. but we beheld the 1892 c fact. Vet let us listen to today's visionarie and dreamers. They are pleasing fellows. There's imaginative John Wanamakei He foresees a one cent letter for all th postal union; a free mail delivery in ever I country dist ict; a short hour day for post ; office employees; a cheap natioDul tele graph and telephone service. The poet of a pure democracy, Duna, prt diets legislation by all the citizens in ever political body corporate. He fancies tha all the electors in the United States ma vote directly?yea or nay?on the tariff, o ; silver coinage, on a national banking sy> ; tem, on restriction of immigration. Fron | New England and Swiss experiences he it 1 fers real democracy the best policy, eve I for the whole Union. Another bold theorist is C. P. Hunting ton. He assures us of wondrous million to be saved in railroad consolidation. Whal then, if all our trunk railroads were unde , a single management? President McLeod, of Reading, is ou : with a financial suggestion. The consume of coal, he says, will be benefited if Jh great coal operator, Mr. McLeod's railroad performs the complete work of producini coal, from digging it to delivering it in th consumer's cellar. The plan abolishes n tail agents, reduces the working force otb erwi3e and permits of one general superic tendency. Those audacious revolutionists, Armou and Rockefeller, have actually evince* glimmerings of practicability! From cen tral headquarters they control vast organ ized systems of meat and oil distribution Shall our people ever again go back t petty local methods? Never! These busi nesses are now adjusted to a national scale * Many enthusiasts are at work in lesse I circles of social reform DeVoe, for twen ty years superintendent of New York' j markets, wrote a book to show that a put lie market in eacli ward would reduce tli I price of country produce to the household i er by i20 per cent, or so. The departmen store proprietors are forever entertaininj wilder schemes to be applied in cheapeninj shop goods. The unconservative stree railroad system, with its cables and trol leys, has brought the average cost of th passenger's ride (to the syndicate) down t two cents. Ah, if the great public would take t dreaming with these dreamers, plannini ; for itself as they do for themselves, an* j taking up with their ways of doing busi ness, how rich and happy it might be ii 10931 J. W. SULLIVAN. Manager I'almcr on the American Drainii I From Our New York Correspondent. 1 Mr. A. M. Palmer, who is generally et teemed the ablest of the men identifier with the drama and is also a man of grea cultivation and most artistic sense, ii speaking of the future of the drama in thi country, said: I presume that the Americans will creat j a drama as artistic, as perfect and of a great an influence as that which haschai acterized the national drama of France i The indications all point that way. Hitli erto we have had almost no distinctive! American drama. We have had artist.' some of whom are quite as impressive am talented as some of those who have mad the fame of the French stage. 1 do no need to mention them: every one know who they are. We have learned already how to moun H puiy, I10W lO IJJVU JL an lliunu attcnnui ic which combine to furnish the perfect rep resentntion, ami yet, after all, we liav been compelled to depend. If not entire), upon the greater dramatists of Europe, a least upon the methods and the sugget tions indicated by the work of those wh are esteemed the groater dramatists. Until recently I may say that we liav . had no distinctively American play. Som of the American dramatists have writtei plays which have been great successes am are models of dramatic workmanship, am | yet, after all. these plays have been writtei aiui constructed in imitation of the bes European examples. By an American pla { I mean, of course, a play perfectly con j structed, whose dialogue while natural i yet suitable for the stage, but whose ttu tive is essentially American. An America play should depict American life; it shouli breathe the atmosphere of the Unite States, or at least that section of the Unitt i States which it paints. Human nature is undoubtedly the sum in all countries and in all ages, but th manifestations or developments of it Inutile flavor of locality, and it is the art t the playwright while setting forth liiinia nature to set it forth so that while its trut is recognized its environment is also stig I gested faithfully. That is what the con ing American playwright must do and. believe, will do. American life furnishc l every material for the perfect drama, tli exquisite pure comedy or the more amm i ing and yet not necessarily less faitlifn low comedy. Recently we have had on or two plays of this kind. The tendency ?i today unquestionably is for amusement j and that broad amusement which evoke . hearty laughter. i It is quite likely that in the next eentur the demand may he for higher ideals tha this, and when the demand comes I huv i no doubt that the American playwrigh j will be found who will meet it. In tli Twentieth century the American dram ought to rank with those of the golde days of the drama of the Old World. i Ella Wheeler Wilcox Forecasts the Futurt ! In 1003 the government will have grow more simple, as true greatness tends al way I toward simplicity. Railroads and teli I graphs will belong to the state, thus lesser S; | iii^ nit* imu^tTUiin |juv?ci ui iui?C uivjuupv :t 1 lies and vast corporations. Otherwise 'n i less than a century our boasted American ! r, freedom would cease to exist, since it is i:l 1, ready menaced. s ; In temperance the world ere then will .r have realized the folly of trying to legislate e upon appetites. It will realize the necesh sity of educating them, and that to educat e >r them we must begin with parents. People ir who refuse to be taught on this and kinir dred subjects must be prevente<l from be (1 coming parents. In this way only can { t- drunkenness be lessened. I : The same humane law will by that time | > extend to criminals?they will be prevented i- J from propagatjng their kind. This will i d take the place of capital punishment, and y after a few generations will do away with le crime, because no criminals will be born. The whole vast west will be irrigated and 1 tr fertilized, furnishing food for all our popu- j h ! lation. Architecture will have reached a it j much higher state, but will not in 500 years : j attain to the perfection found in countries | i- [ thousands of years old probably. Airships ; * J will facilitate travel, and the pneumat'c i i- I tube will be the means of transporting I : lr i gOO<lS. II | America will prodace the greatest uu- i I thors who shall be living in 1993. In musicg i al achievement it will still l>e behind older e I countriea e j The occult sixth sense will be the prec * dominant elements in medicine and theolo- j i w -_i :n ?i. I..? | gy. iUt'aiii>.'rnin mil lii&i; iuc jjiikc ui ??u- | 3 j jesthetics in surgery; theosophy?the reli I d gion of liigh thinking nnd selfless living? e j will take the place of creeds nnd dogmas, j i. j clairvoyancy or spiritual insight will be ulj. ' most universal. Woman will be financially J : independent of man, and this will material> : ly lessen crime. No longer obliged to rifle her n : husband's pockets for money, she will not n | give birth to kleptomaniacs or thieves. Men g will learn the importance of proper prer. natal conditions, and children will be reared < r. with the same care now given to colts, j ' |. calves and dogs. . 1 y The government will establish colleges ' e ! for the training of servants, and architects j | j ! will consider the comfort and health of dot ; mestics in constructing homes, instead of e I ignoring them, as at present. Better iu- j y 1 structed, better paid, better cared for and more plentiful, the servant of the next century will be more useful, better con tent and more respectful and respected, t If our men k^ep pace with our women in j li athletic development und in clean mbrals, il the race will be larger and handsomer, if Otherwise we shall pr^luce splendid nma?. zons and pygmy men. t Chicago will be our greatest city because t. she knows she is not and desires to be ! and has the energy and zeal to become so. Each of our other large cities thinks she 's ! already the greatest and will make no pro- , nounced effort to be greater. All permanent j e | greatness means eternal endeavor. 3 ! If any man now living solves the great a I question of the true relation of capital ?*nd t labor, to him will 1092 accord the honor of the greatest man. Next to him stands a Edison. ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. i s ? | vr pisccUanemts patting, if! -? ? - ? ? ? ? I r, ! THE TROUBLES OF BEING A WOMAN. * Upon the whole, it is a dreadful , ,c | thing to be a woman, and do the busi 'e ness up in good shape. j In tlie first place, you've got to look if well, or else you're nobody. A man 1 if ' may be homely and still be popular. J Whiskers cover up the most of his j " face, and if he has got a large mouth, I i nobody mistrusts it; and, if he wrin- ! M kles had on his forehead, his friends ! , speak of his many cares, and of his : r. ! thoughtful disposition, and tell each i e other that his wrinkles are lines of y thought. Lines of thought, indeed! 'r when, in all probability, his forehead is ! wrinkled by the habit he has got of j j. scowling at his wife when the coffee j y isn't strong enough. ,t A woman must always be in good y | order throughout. Her hair must be ! II i frizzed and bunged as the fashion de- ! 4 ! mands and she must powder if she | J1 I has shining skin; and she must man- ; ? I age to look sweet, no matter how sour j j she may feel, and she must hang just 1 ; ' so, and her luces must be always spot- j : s i less, and her boot buttons always in ! ! place, and finger nails clean, she musn't ; 1 r | whistle nor climb fences, nor stone ! i t , cats, nor swear when she is mad. | r | She can't go out alone because ladies e must be protected. She can't go any- j 1, where when it rains because her hair I SJ won't stay crimped, and she'll get mud 1 e | on her petticouts, and things. She * i can't be a Freemason, because she | J* would tell their secrets, and everybody j would know all about that goat and r that gridiron. She can't smoke because , i it wouldn't be feminine. She can't ; i- go courting because it is unwomanly, i i- But she must get married before she is L twenty-five or everybody will feel ? j wronged, l'eople will sigh over her, ! I* and wonder why it is that men "don't 'r seem to take," and all the old maids and widows will smile significantly? s and keep quiet. i > Oh, these smiles, and these signifie cant looks! They are ten times worse ' J than open slanders ! i , It is u terriable thing to be an old g ! maid?terrible! Everybody knows it i t is, and the women who are married to I- drunken husbands, and who manage to o j quarrel with them six days out of the 0 seven, will groan in agony of spirit over the single woman, and call her ' " the poor old maid ! j A woman must marry rich, or she j. | doesn't marry "well." To marry well 1 n is the end of a woman's existence, judging from the view which people in general take of this matter.. 1 u ! It is everybody's business whoa wo- j : ^ man marries. The whole neighbor- j : ,j hood put their heads together and talk t i over the pros and cons, and decide j 1 n whether she is good enough for him. s And they criticise the shape of her nose, and the way she does up her e t hair, and relate anecdotes of how lazy 1 ,s | he grandfather was, and how her Aunt | 1 . | Sally used to sell beans and butter- i 1 " j milk. y A woman must wear No. 2 boots on < i, No. h feet, and she must manage to dress 1 well on seventy-five cents a week; and | 1 e she must be kind to the poor, and be 1 * ready to dress dolls, and make aprons and ties for church fairs, t She must be a good cook, and she s must be able to "do up" her husband's I > shirts so that the heathen Chinese ! v washerman would groan with envy y and gnash his teeth with the same un- i I holy passion, at sight of them. i i 0 She must always have the masculine < buttons in the family sewed on so that i c , they never will come off while in j 1 0 use, and she must keep the family 1 " hosiery so that nobody would mistrust I 'J that there were toes inside of the stock- 1 ings when they are on. t She ipust hold herself in continual i y readiness to find everything her hus- ; t band has lost?and a man never knows i s where anything is. He will put his i : boots carefully away on the parlor sofa, ( < II and when he has hunted after them i half un hour, he will appear to his i ,1 wife with a countenance like that of I the avenging angel, and demand to ; i' know "What in the thunder has she j I c j done with my boots?" ! e She must shut all the doors after < her lord and master, and likewise the II bureau drawers, for a married man nev- i cr was known to shut a drawer. It j [ would be as unnatural as for a hen to i 1 go swimming for recreation. j ; s She must go to bed first in cold j : l' weather, so as to get the bed warmed. 4 1 Her husband, if he be a wise man asks her to do this, but he sits up "to ,{ finish a piece in the paper," and waits while she gets the sheets to a comfort- j i s able temperature. Ah, there are a good many tricks in ! < >' the trade of what is culled "living to- | " gether!" j A woman is expected to take care I 1 t. i of the baby, even after the first infana tile wonder multiplies into a round j a dozen. And if he doubles up with j colic, or the trials of cutting teeth, < ; necessary evils of the mumps, and measles, and whooping cough, and j < j scarlet fever, and rash, and throat ilis- j i i. j temper, and short sleeves, and bare I j I legs, and pins sticking into him, and | too much candy and a uan temper, why her husband tells her that "he does wish she'd try and quiet the baby !" And he suys it just as if he fully believed that she alone was responsible for its being in existence: and as if he thought she was considerably to blame for it, too. And when she has a headaee, nobody thinks of minding it! A woman is always having headache! And if she is "nervous enough to Hy," nobody shuts the doors any easier on account of it, or tucks her upon the lounge with a shawl over her, or coddles her to death, like a man has to be coddled in such circumstances. We might go on indefinitely with the troubles a woman brings; and if there is a man in the world who thinks a woman has an easy time of it why just let him pin on a pound of false hair, and get inside a new pair of corsets, and put on a pullback overshirt, and be a woman himself, and see how he likes it. LOOK AT YOUR THUMBS. If anybody will look carefully at the end of his thumb, he will find the surface ridged with a little thread-like range of hills, wound round and round in tiny spirals. If he will take a magnifying glass and examine them closely, he will find that there is a good deal of individuality in the way in which these are arranged. No two thumbs in the world are exactly alike. The miniature mountain ranges are as fixed and decided as the Alps or the Sierras, the geography of the thumb as unmistakable. Now the Chinese have made use of this fact for establishing a rogue's gallery. Whenever a criminal is examined by law, an impression is taken of his thumb. Smeared with a little lampblack, partially wiped and then pressed down on a piece of paper, an engraving of the thumb is made, and kept in police records. It serves just the same purpose which is served hy our photographing our burglars and pick pockets. The accused can be identified with great certainty. Nothing short of mutilating or burning the thumb can obliterate i>s feature. Sometimes a ghastly proof of guilt is furnished. A murderer, red-handed with his crime, may toucli his finger's end upon n white wall, and so leave in the color of his guilt a photograph 011 the accusing wall. His signature is left, just as unmistakably us if he had signed the bond of his iniquity, and thus great crimes have been brought to light, and deeds of blood made to tell their own story. But this individuality in the skin of the tip of the thumb, strongly marked as it is, yet admits of strong family likeness. Brothers and sisters who will take impressions of their thumbs will find resemblances among each other that they will not when comparing them with the thumbs of stangers. Even thus minutely does that strange thing, family likeness, descend. What wonder is it that faces look alike, voices sound alike; how can it seem strange that members of the same furaily should have dispositions and similarities of temper, of mental aptitudes and hereditary diseases, when such minor peculiarities as the texture at the end of the thumb, and its ranges of hills, should also have family resemblances in the midst of their indefinite diversities? HUN OVER THE SEA BY OIL. Scientists, capitalists and owners of steam tonnage throughout the world are eagerly watching for the arrival of the new British steamship James Brand, which sailed fronts Shields, England, on May G, for Philadelphia. They are all interested because the Brand is the first vessel that has ever attempted to cross the Atlantic driven by steam generated with petroleum as fuel instead of coal. There is nobody more interested than Sir William Armstrong, England's greatest steel and ordnance maker, the designer and builder of the Brand. Every part of the vessel was watched in her construction by the great shipbuilder at his works at Newcastle-onTyne, because he believed that if his venture should prove successful it would mean a complete revolution in the propulsion of steam vessels, and' would afford economical water transportation. The Brand is not a small experimental craft, but one of the largest cargo carriers in the world. She registers .3,780 net tons, and is built of steel throughout. Her length is 345 feet over all, 43A feet beam, and 29J feet depth of hold, with triple expansion engines of the latest and most approved type, and Scotch steel corrugated boilers. Jets of steam and fuel petroleum meet and ignite under a line ol brick work uciow me oouers, 30 that the flame does not come in direct contact with the boilers' surface. Sufficient heat can be generated to force everything to a white heat; but the temperature is regulated by the engineers according to the speed required. The Brand comes up to the requirements noted in "Lloyd's Kules of Shipping," and can get the lowest rates of insurance, notwithstanding the fact that she is being driven by a new fuel, comparatively unknown as a generator. Great care was exercised in the new vesssel's construction because she is a bulk oil carrier of *1,500,000 gallons capacity, and will load a full cargo of crude oil at Marcus Hook for the account of French merchants. She will not require the services of firemen or stokers, and the space usually occupied by this portion of the crew and the coal can be devoted to cargo, besides saving the wages of stokers. In the Black sea, vessels of this type may be seen trading locally, but the Brand will be the first to cross the p;reat ocean highway to America. Popi'int! the Question.?Constitutionally timid men might, if necessary, resort to some such expedient as that of the youth whose bashfulncss would not admit of his proposing directly to the object of his affection, but who at length summoned up sufficient courage to lift the young lady's cat and say: Pussy, may I have your mistress?" To which the young lady very naturally and cleverly responded: "Say yes, pussy," Bashfulncss on the part i?f lovers, and want of courage in connection with popping the momentous question, have formed the subject of many a story. Here is one: A gentleman had long been paying attention Lo a young lady whom he wus very anxious to marry, but to whom he had never ventured to declare his passion. When opportunity offered his courage deserted him, and when he was resolved to speak the fair one could never be found alone or disengaged. Driven to desperation, he one day succeeded in accomplishing his purpose in a somewhat remarkable manner at a dinner party. To most people a dinner party would hardly seem the most suitable occasion for overtures of this description, especially when, as in this instance, the lady is seated at the opposite side of the table from her admirer. The latter, however, was equal to the occasion. Tearing a leaf from his pocketbook, he wrote on it under cover of the table : "Will you be my wife? Write yes or no at the foot of this." Calling a servant, he asked him in a whisper to take the slip?which of course, was carefully folded and directed?to "the lady in blue, opposite." The servant did as requested ; and the gentlemen, in an agony of suspense, watched him give it to the lady, and fixed his eyes, with badly disguised eagerness, to try aim juu^u iruill uri ira|in.v>r>iuii a nib quaintly made offer was received. He I had forgotten one thing?namely, that ladies seldom carry pencils about them at a dinner party. The beloved one J was, however, not to be baffled by so trilling an obstacle. After reading the , note calmly, she turned to the servant , and said : "Tell the gentleman yes." They were married in due course. I Thk Use of Tobacco.?It is rather ; singular that the Americans are the only civilized people who habitually I chew tobacco, although sailors of nearly every nation are addicted to its mastication. It is singular too, that we, probably, employ tobacco in other J ways less than other countries. Snuf] fing is rather rare here, common as it ! is in Europe, especially on the continent. We do not smoke any more { than, if as much as, the English , and i the French, Italians, notably the Ger! mans. Dutch and Soaniards. exceed us in smoking. But as tobacco eaters we occupy the field alone, having, it is to be regretted, a monopoly of one of the most unwholsome and obnoxious of practices. The rational mustication and expectorations are known over the world, and do ample service in all J conceptions and caricatures of Brother ; Jonathan. To see a landsman chewing tobacco anywhere abroad is to | know him for an American, native or adopted. Perhaps we stick to the worst of three customs because tobacco is to so large an extent an American plant. Europe knew nothing ofjt until the discovery by Columbus of the Western world. The sailors he sent ashore at Cuba found the natives smoking, and seeing them emit smoke from j their mouths and nostrils, imagined i them to be on fire. All the natives from the northwest coast to Patagonia ! used tobacco, and to chew it is one of | our inalienable and aboriginal rights. j Dangerously Wounded.?ItnagiI nation is a powerful factor, as every i sensible man and woman knows ; and probably nobody better realizes it than ' the soldier who imagined himself danj gerously wounded. I During a battle an officer had to ! send a messenger across an opening I where the bullets were flying danger, ously. He selected a verybrave man, I and cautioned him as to his peril, telling him to ride for his life on reaching the open field. The officer watched him through his field-glass, saw him fling himself behind the flank of his horse for safety, finally saw him drop from the steed as if mortally wounded. A second man was sent safely on the same errand, tlia tifAiin/1 nrl oaLIiap wou nnpp/l for. He had merely fainted. On coming to, he found the surgeon at work over him, and anxiously inquired as to the precise nature of the wound. He was told by the surgeon that he had been hit hard, and that the injured part could never be made | whole again. "But rest easy," said the doctor, "for the shot only took effect?in the : canteen !" The man had not been injured in the least, but had been deceived by the flowing of the contents of his cherished 1 canteen, which, under the circum| stances, he naturally mistook for his i heart's blood. The soldier is living yet to laugh over his ludicrous mishap. Finger Marks.?A gentleman hired a mason to do some work for him, and among other things to "thinwhiten" the walls of one of his rooms. The thin-whitening is almost colorless until dried. The gentleman was much surprised, on the morning after the chamber was finished, to find on I the drawer of his desk, standing in the , room, white finger marks. Opening ; the drawers, he found the same on the articles in it, and also on the pock| et-book. An examination revealed the same marks on the contents of the bag. This proved clearly that the mason, with his wet hand, had opened the drawer, and searched the bog which contained no money, and had then closed the drawer without once thinking that any one would ever know it. The 'thin-whitening,' which happened to be on his hands, did not show at first, and he probably had no idea that twelve hours' drying would reveal his wickedness. As the work was all done on the afternoon the ; drawer was opened, the mart did not ! come again, and to this day does not know that his acts are known to his employer. Beware of evil thoughts and deeds. They all leave their finger i marks, which will one day be revealed. Sin defiles the soul. It betrays ; those who engage in it by the marks it makes on them. These may be almost, if not quite, invisible at first. Legend of a Rose.?It isn't every I rose that has so pretty a romance connected with its name as the Cherokee rose. Here is the legend : An Indian chief of the Seminole tribe was taken prisoner by his enemies, the Cherokees, and doomed to torture, but became so seriously ill that it became necessary to wait for i his restoration to health before committing him to the fire. And, as he lay prostrated by disease in the cabin of a Cherokee warrior, the daughter of the latter, a young dark-faced maiden, was his nurse. She fell in love with the young chieftain, and wishing to save his life, urged him to escape, but he would not do so unless she would fiee with him. She consented. Yet, before she had gone far impelled, by soft regret of leaving home, she asked permission of her lover to return home for ! the purpose of bearing away some I memento of it. So retracing her footsteps, she broke a twig from the white rose which climbed up the poles from her father's tent, and preserved it during her flight through the wilderness, and planted it by the door of her new home in the land of the Seminoles. And from that day this beautiful flower has always been known between . the capes of Florida and throughout ! the Southern States as the Cherokee : rose. j A Book Borrower's Reminder.? Book borrowers are apt to be forgetful j in the matter of returning volumes to the rightful owner, and the appended anecdote is a novel specimen of a book borrower's reminder. A lawyer borrowed a book from a friend in the same ollice, took it home and forgot to return it. Several times he was reminded of this by the owner of the book, and as many times forgot to put it in his pocket, when he left his house. At last stung to desperation by his friend's gibes, he sat down, and addressing a postal card to hiru. self at his residence, wrote on the back i of it thus: "If you do not attend to that matter within twenty-four hours you may expect the worst." "There," he said, grimly, "if that doesn't fetch me, nothing will." It did fetch him. It fetched him out of a late sleep the next morning, immediately after the postman's first visit, to explain to his white-faced, terrified wife that she was not likely to be ; made a widow. He offered explanations, and took the book back, but he is not sure that his wife docs not bei lieve that he has committed some ' crime, and may be arrested at any ' moment. wot" iiyou won hi mm :i git-nt many : faults, be on the lookout. If you ! would lind them in still greater abuni dauce be on the look-in.