Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

lewis >1. grist, proprietor, j A" Jndepeiulcnt Jjamilij Jlcit'spapcr: .dfot the fromofion of the folitigal, jSoqial, Agricultural and Commercial Jntercsts of the j?outh. |terms?$2.00 a year in advance. VOL. 39. YORKYILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 36, 1893. NO. 30. - - ' I ,tf 11ll +1,0 full it l.?I, !?,1 m? )^,r^ nt Cn+nnl I tirii 1 trviinn AT.1 * r A\fT.tTr I evils of the financial world are due to the | brought order out of disorder, harmony ' ' A NANIASl" "Ye-aa, suh?" Mm "What time Is mFi "L.-.v,.: MhasfWhat do ! you mean, sir, by allowing me to sleep op in this shameless and unconscionable manner, when an indulgent government is suffering for my services? What sort of a day is it, sir?" "Beautiful day, Mr. Waring." ? "Then "go at once to Mr. Larkin and tell him he can't wear his new silk hat this morning?I want it, and you fetch it Don't allow him to ring in the old , one on you. Tell him I mean the new , 'spring style' he just brought from 1 New York. Tell Mr. Ferry I want that new Hatfield suit of his, and you get j Mr. Pierce's silk umbrella; then come | back here and get my bath and my coffee. Stop, there, Ananias! Give my pious regards to the commanding officer, sir, and tell him there's no drill for 'X' battery this morning, as I'm to breakfast at Moreau's at eleven o'clock | and go to the matinee afterwards." "Beg pahdon, suh, but de cunnle's I done ohdered review fo' de whole command, suh, right at nine o'clock." "So much the better. Then Capt. Cram must stay, and won't need his swell team. Go right down to the stable and tell Jeffers I'll drive at ninethirty." "But?" "No buts, you incorrigible rascal! I don^pay you a princely salary to raise obs^les. I don't pay you at all, sir, exc ?pt at rare intervals and in moments of mental decrepitude. Go at once!. Allez! Chassez! Skoot!" "But, lieutenant," says Ananias, his black face shining, his even white teeth all agleam, "Capt. Cram stopped in on de way back from stables to say Glenco'd sprained his foot and you was to ride de bay colt. Please get up, suh. Boots and saddles'll soun' in j ten minutes." "It won't, but if it does I'll brain the bugler. Tell him so. Tell Capt. Cram he's entirely mistaken; I won't ride the bay colt?nor Glenco. I'm going j driving, sir, with Capt. Cram's own team and road wagon. Tell him so. uoing in iony-iive uiiuuics l>_> uj watch. Where is it, sir?" "It ain't back from de jeweler's, suh, where you dun lef it day before yist'day; but his boy's hyuh now, suh, wid de bill for las' year. Whut shall I tell him?" "Tell him to go to?quarantine. No! i Tell him the fever has broken out here again, sir, and not to call until ten i o'clock next spring?next mainspring 1 they put in that watch. Go and get Mr. Merton's watch. Tell him I'll be sure to overstay in town if he doesn't j Bend it, and then I can't take him up I and introduce him to those ladies from Louisville to-morrow. Impress that on him, sir, unless he's gone and left it on his bureau, in which case impress the watch?the watch, sir, in any case. No! : Stop again, Ananias; not in any case, only in the gold hunting case; no other. ; Now then, vanish!" "But, lieutenant, 'fo' Gawd, suh, j dcy'll put you in arrest if vou cuts drill dls time. Cunnle Braxton says to Capt. | Cram only two days ago, suh, dat?" But here a white arm shot out from a canopy of mosquito netting, and first a boot-jack, then a slipper, then a heavy top boot, came whizzing past the darky's dodging head, and, finding expostulation vain, that faithful servitor bolted out in search of some ally more potent, and found one, though not the one he sought or desired, just entering the adjoining room. big fello%v, too?too big, in fact, to be aeon wearing, as was the fashion in the sixties, the shell jacket of the light artillery. He had a full I round body, and a full round ruddy face, and a little round visorless cap cooked on one side of a round head, not very full of brains, perhaps, yet j reputed to be fairly stocked with what j is termed "horse sense." His bulky legs were thrust deep in long boots, and ornamented, so far as the skintight breeches of sky blue were con cerned, with a scarlet welt along the j seam, a welt that his comrades were wont to say would make a white mark on his nose, so red and bulbous was that organ. lie came noisily in from the broad veranda overlooking the parade ground, glanced about on the disarray of the bachelor sitting-room, then whirled on Ananias. "Mr. Waring dressed?" "No-o, suh; jus' woke up, suh; ain't out o' bed yit." "The lazy vagabond! Just let me get at him a minute," said the big man, tramping over to the doorway as though bent on invading the chamber beyond. But Ananias had halted short at sight of the intruder, and stood there resolutely barring the way. "Beg pardon, lieutenant, but Mr. Waring ain't had no bath yit. Can I mix de lieutenant a cocktail, suh?" "Can you? You black imp of Satan, why isn't it ready now, sir? Sure you could have seen I was as dhry as a limekiln from the time I came through the gate. Hwarc's the demijohn, you villain?" "Bein' refilled, suh, down to de sto\ but da's a little on de sideboa'd, suh," answered Ananias, edging over thither, now that he had lured the invader away from the guarded doorway. "Take it straight, suh, o' wid bitters? o' toddy?" "Faith, I'll answer ye as Fat did the parson: I'll take it straight now, and then be drinking the toddy while your honor is mixin' the punch, (live me hold of it, you smudge! and tell your masther it's review?full-dress?and it's time for him to be up. Has he had his two cocktails yet?" "Tl.? + .1 * MCUICUUIIUIUOTIHUIWU U?V dis mawnin', suh. I'll fetch him his c<y?ce in a minute. Did you see de cunnle's oade'ly, suh? lie was lookin' fo' you a moment ago." The big red man was gulping down a big drink of the fiery liquor at the instant. lie set the glass back on the sideboard with unsteady hand and glared at Ananias suspiciously. "Is it troot' you're tellin', nigger? Ilwat did he say was wanted?" "Didn't say, suh, but de cunnle's in ' his office. Yahnduh comes de oade'ly, too, :,uh; guess he .must have hyuhd you was over hyuh." The result of this announcement was not unexpected. The big man made a leap for the chamber door,only to find it slammed in his face from the other side. ft*tr it,,. ~44 4u "IlWttb IHU UCVU 5 tllC UlULlsVl WIU1 your master this morning', Ananias?? Waring! Waring, I say! Let me in. The K. O.'s orderly is afther me, and all on account of your bringing me in at that hour last night. Tell him I've gone, Ananias. Let me in, Waring, there's a good fellow." "Go to blazes, Doyle!" is the unfeeling answer from the other side. "I'm bathing." And a vigorous splashing follows the announcement. "For the Lord's sake, Waring, let me in. Sure, I can't see the colonel now. If I could stand him off until review and inspection's over and he's had his dhrink he'd let the whole thing* dror>: but that blackguard of a V;; PERIL. \ I CHARLES KINQ. j U.S.ARMyJ ' J. D. I.lpplncott & Co.,(Y^ special arrangement] v<3^^ sinthry has given us away. Sure I told you he would." "Then slide down the lightning-rod! I Fly up the chimney! Evaporate! Dry j up and blow away, but get out! You I can't come in here." ,40>i -fnr merev's Rake. Warinc! Sure ! 'twas you that got me into the scrape. You know that I was dhrunk when you found me up the levee. You made ; me come down when I didn't want to. Hwat did I say to the' man last i?ight, anyhow?" "Say to him? Poor devil! why, you ; never can remember after you're drunk what you've been doing the night be- | fore. Some time it'll be the death of you. You abused him like a pickpocket?the sergeant of the guard and everybody connected with it." "Oh, murther! murther! murtlier!" groaned the poor Irishman, sitting 1 down and covering his face with his hands. "Sure, they'll court-martial me ' this time without fail, and I know it. ! For God's sake, Waring, can't ye let a feller in and say that I'm not here?" "Ilyuh, dis way, lieutenant," whispered Ananias, mysteriously. "Slip nn/1 infn Mr. Pierce's VUU VI* UV vt* UMV* ??V - _ _ room. I'll tell you when he's gone." And in a moment the huge bulk of the senior lieutenant of Light Battery "X" was being boosted through a window opening from the gallery into the bachelor den of the junior second lieu HEAVY TOP BOOT CJ tenant. No sooner was this done than the negro servant darted back, closed and bolted the long green Venetian blinds behind him, tiptoed to the bedroom door, and, softly tapping, called: "Mr. Waring! Mr. Waring! get dressed quick as you caB, suh! I'll lay out your uniform in hyuh." "I tell you, Ananias, I'm going to J town, sir; not to any ridiculous re- ; view. Go and get what I ordered you. J See that I'm properly dressed, sir, or I'll discharge you. Confound you, sir, there isn't a drop of Florida water in this bath, and none on my bureau! Go and rob Mr. Pierce?or anybody." But Ananias was already gone. Darting out on the gallery, he took a header through the window of the adjoining quarters through which Mr. Doyle had escaped, snatched a long flask from the dressing table and was back in the twinkling of an eye. "What became of Mr. Doyle?" asked Waring, as he thrust a bare arm through a narrow aperture to receive the spoil. "Don't let him get drunk; he's got to go to review, sir. If he doesn't, Col. Braxton may be so inconsiderate as to inquire why both tho lieutenants of 'X' battery arc missing. Take good care of him till the review, sir, then let him go to grass; and don't you dare leave me without Florida water again if you have to burglarize **??? nnct AVhnt.'n "Mr. Dovlc ' tlio HilVAV J^/V>JW? ?? ? ? - ^ doing, sir?" "Peekin'froode blin's in Mr. Pierce's room, suh; lookiu' fo' de oade'ly. I done tole him de cunnle was ahter him, but he ain't, suh," chuckled Ananias. "I fixed it all right wid de gyahd dis mawnin, suh. Dey won' tell 'bout his cuttin' up las' night. He'd forgot de whole t'ing, suh; he allays does; he never does know what's happened de night befo'. He wouldn't 'a' known about dis, but I told his boy Jim to tell him 'bout it ahter stables. I told Jim to sweah dat dey'd repohtcd it to de cunnle." "Very well, Ananias; very well, sir; you're a credit to your name. Now go and carry out my orders. Don't forget Capt. Cram's wagon. Tell Jeffers to be here with it on time." And the lieutenant returned to his bath without waiting for reply. "Ye-as, suh," was the subordinate answer, as Ananias promptly turned, and, whistling cheerily, went banging out upon the gallery and clattering down the open stairway to the brickpaved court below. Here he as promptly turned, and, noiseless as a eat, shot up the stairway, tiptoed back into the sitting-room, kicked off his low-heeled slippers, and rapidly, but with hardly an audible sound, resumed the work on which he had been engaged?the arrangement of his master's kit. Already, faultlessly brushed, folded and hanging over the back of a chair close by the chamber door were the bright blue, scarlet-welted battery trousers then in vogue, very snug at the knee, very springy over the foot. Underneath them, spread over the square back of the chair, a dark-blue, single-breasted frock-coat, hanging nearly to the floor, its shoulders decked with huge epaulettes, to the right one of which were attached the braid and loops of a heavy gilt aiguillette whose glistening pendants were hung temporarily on the upper button. On the 6eat of the chair was folded a bread soft sash of red silk net, its tassels carefully spread. Itesidc it lay a pair o-nontlotc now nnil snrit IUIIK uuu. ? less. At the door, brilliantly polished, stood a pair of buttoned gaiter boots, the heels decorated with small glistening brass spurs. In the corner, closo at hand, leaned a long, curved saber, its gold sword-knot, its triple-guarded hilt, its steel scabbard and plated bands and rings, as well as the swivels and buckle of the black sword-belt, showing- the perfection of finish in manufacture and care in keeping. From a round leather box Ananias now extracted u new gold-wire fourragere, which he softly wiped with a silk handkerchief, dandled lovingly an instant the glistening tassels, coiled it carefully upon the sash, then producing from the same box a long scarlet horsehair plume he first brushed it into shimmering freedom from tho faintest knot or kink, then set it firmly through its socket into the front of ' - ' i 11 1_ a gold-braided shako wnose lmuck front was decked with the embroidered cross cannon of the regiment, surmounted by the arms of the United States. This he noiselessly placed upon the edge of the mantle, stepped back to complacently view his work, flicked off apossible speck of dust on the sleeve of the coat, touched with a chamois-skin the gold crescent of the nearest epaulette, then softly, noiselessly as before, vanished through the door-way, tiptoed to the adjoining window, and peeked in. Mr. Doyle had thrown himself into Pierce's arm chair, anil was trying to read the | morning1 paper. "Wunner what Mars'er Pierce will say when he gits back from breakfast," was Ananias' comment, as he sped softly down the stairs, a broad grin on his black face, a grin that almost instantly gave place to preterj natural solemnity and respect as, turning sharply on the sidewalk at the foot of the stairs, he came face to face with the battery commander. Ananias would have passed with a low obeisance, but the captain halted him short. "Where's Mr. Waring, sir?" "Drcssin' fo' inspection, captain." "He is? I just heard in the mess,room that he didn't propose attending f?that he had an engagement to breakfast and was going in town." ; "Ye-as, suh, yc-as, suh, Gen. Ilosseau, suh, expects de lieutenant in to breakfast, but the moment lie hyulul 'twas review he ohdered me to git everything ready, suh. I's goin' for de bay colt now. Ileg pahdon, captain, do lieutenant says is de captain goin' to wear gauntlets or gloves dis mawnin'? He wants to do just as de captain does, suh." What a merciful interposition of Divine Providence it is that the African cannot blush! Cupt. Cram looked suspiciously at the earnest, unwinking black face before him. Some memory of old college days flitted through his mind at the moment. 4,0 Kunopes!" ("thou dog-faced one!") he caught himself muttering, but negro diplomacy was too much for him. and the innocence in the face of Ananias would have baffled a man far more suspicious. Cram was a fellow who loved his battery and his profession as few men loved before. He was full of big ideas in one way and little oddities in another. Undoubted ability had been at the bottom of his selection over the head of many a senior to command one of the light batteries when the general dismounting took place in '(ill. Unusual attractions of person had won for him a wife with a fortune only a little later. IME W1HZZI.VG PAST. The fortune had warranted a short leave abroad this very year. (lie would not have taken a day over sixty, for fear of losing his light battery). He had been a stickler for gauntlets on all mounted duty when he went away, and he came home converted to white wash-leather gloves because the British horse-artillerv wore no other, "and they, sir, are the nattiest in the world." lie could not tolerate an offl cer whose soul was not aflame with enthusiasm for battery duty, and so was perpetually at war with Waring, who dared to have other aspirations. He delighted in a man who took pride in his dress and equipment, and so rejoiced in Waring, who, more than any subaltern ever attached to "X," was the very glass of soldier fashion and mold of soldier form. He had dropped in at the bachelor mess just in time to hear some gabbling youngster blurt out a bet that Sam Waring would cut review and keep his tryst in town, and he had known him many a time to overpersuade his superiors into excusing him from duty on pretext of social claims, and more than once into pardoning deliberate absence. Hut he and the post commander had deemed it high time to block all that nonsense in future, and had so informed him, and were nonplussed at Waring's cheery acceptance of the implied rebuke and most airy, graceful and immediate change of the subject. The whole garrison was chuckling over it by night. "Why, certainly, colonel," said he, "I have been most derelict of late during the visit of all these charming people from the north; and that reminds me, some of them are going to drive out here to hear the band this afternoon and take a bite at my quarters. 1 was just on my way to beg Mrs, Itraxton and Mrs. Cram to receive fo? me, when your orderly came. And, colonel, I want your advice about the champagne. Of course I needn't say I hope you both will honor me with your presence." Old Hrax loved champagne and salad better than anything his profession afforded, and was disarmed at once. As for Cram, what could he say when the post commander dropped the matter? With all his daring disregard of orders and established customs, with all his consummate sang-froid and what some called impudence and others "cheek," every superior under whom he had ever served had sooner or later become actually fond of Sam Waring?even stern old Rounds?"old Double Rounds" the b(>3*s called him, one of the martinets of the service, whose first experience with the fellow was as memorable as it was unexpected, and who wound up, after a vehement scoring of some two minutes'duration, during which Waring had stood patiently at attention with an expression of the liveliest sympathy and interest on his handsome face, by ask inpr impressively: "Now, sir, what have you to say for yourself?" To which, with inimitable mixture of suavity and concern, Sain replied: "Nothing whatever, sir. I doubt if anything- more could be said. I had no adequate idea of the extent of my misdoing. Have I your permission to sit down, sir, and think it over?" Hounds actually didn't know what to think, and still less what to say. Had he believed for an instant that the young gentleman was insincere, he would have had him in close arrest in the twinkling of an eye; but Waring's tone and words and manner were those of contrition itself. It was not possible that one of the boys should dare to be guying him, the implacable Rounds, "Old Grand Rounds" of the Sixth corps, old Double Rounds of the horse artillery of the Peninsula days. Mrs. Rounds had her suspicions when told of the affair, but was silent, for of all the officers stationed in and around the old southern city Sam Waring was by long odds the most graceful and accomplished dancer and german leader, the best informed on all manner of interesting matters ? social, musical, dramatic, fashionable?the prime mover in garrison hops and parties, the connecting link between the families of the general and staff officers in town and the linesmen at the surrounding posts, the man whose dictum as to a dinner or luncheon and whose judgment as to a woman's toilet were most quoted and least questioned, the man whose word could almost make or mar an army girl's success; and good old Lady Rounds had two such encumbrances the first winter of their sojourn in the south, and two army girls among so many are subjects of not a little thought un<l care. If Mr. Waring liati not led the second gcrmnn with Margaret Hounds the mother's heart would have been well-nigh crushed. It was fear of some such catastrophe that kept her silent on the score of Warlng's reply to her irate lord, for if Sam did j mean to be impertinent, as he unquesi tionably could be, the colonel she knew I would be merciless in his discipline and social amenities would be at ini stant end. Waring had covered her I with maternal triumph and Margaret i [with bliss unutterable by leading the ante-Lenten german with the elder I daughter and making her brief stay a ! month of infinite joy. The Rounds ; were ordered on to Texas, and Marj garet's brief romance was speedI ily and properly forgotten in the j devotions of a more solid if less i fascinating fellow. To do Waring | justice, he had paid the girl no more ; marked attention than he showed j to anyone else. lie wpuld have led i the next german with Genevieve had i there been anotner 10 icau, just as ?c ; had led previous affairs with other dames and damsels. 11 was one of the | ninety-nine articles of his social faith j that a girl should have a pood time her | first season, just as it was another that a bride should have a lovely wedding. ! a belle at least one offer a month, o ; married woman as much attention at . an army ball as could be lavished on a I ,bud. lie prided himself on the fact ! that no woman at the army parties given that winter had remained a wallflower. Among such a host of oiliccr.s ! as was there assembled during the j years that followed on the heels of the j war it was no difficult matter, to be | sure, to find partners for the thirty or forty ladies who honored those occasions with their presence. Of locui j belles there were none. It was far too soon after the bitter strife to hope foibliss so great as that. There were hardly any but army women to provide for, and even the bulkiest and least attractive of the lot was led out for the | dance. Waring would go to any length to sec them on the floor but that of being himself the partner. There the i line was drawn irrevocably. The best dancer among the men, he simply 1 would not dance except with the best ' dancers among the women. As to personal appearance and traits, it may be said first that Waring was a man of I slender, graceful physique, with singu. ! larly well-shaped hands and feet and a ! head and face that were almost too good-looking to be manly. Dark hazel i eyes, dark brown hair, eyebrows, lashes, and a very heavy, drooping mustache, a straight nose, a soft, senS sitive mouth with even white tectb that were, however, rarely visible, a clear-cut chin, and with it all a soft, almost languid southern intonation, musical, even ultra-refined, and he | shrank like a woman from a coarse" word or the utterance of an impure ! thought. lie was a man whom many I women admired, of whom some were ; afraid, whom many liked and trusted, for he could not be bribed to cntr o in.inn fliinrr iilumf nni> nf t.hoi> OU.J u. ...V-.... | number, though lie would sometimes be | satirical to her very faee. It was J among the men that .Sam Waring was hated or loved?loved, laughed over, indulged, even spoiled, perhaps, to any and every extent, by the chosen few who were his chums and intimates? I and absolutely hated by a very consid| erable element that was prominent in i the army in those queer old days?the j array of officers, who, bj' reason of birth, antecedents, lack of education or of social opportunities, were want; ing in those graces of manner and language to which Waring had been ac| customed from earliest boyhood. His j people were southerners, yet, not being slave owners, had stood firm for the union, and were exiled from the old home as a natural consequence in a war in which the south held all against who were not for her. Appointed a cadet and sent to the military academy . in recognition of the loyalty of his immediate relatives, he was not gradj uatcd until the war was practically ; over, and then, gazetted to an infan; try regiment, he was stationed for a j time among the scenes of his boyhood, | ostracized by his former friends and unable to associate with most of the j war-worn officers among whom his lot was cast. It was a year of misery, that ended in long and dangerous illness, his final shipment to Washington on sick-leave, and then a winter of keen delight, a social campaign in which he won fame, honors, friends at court, and a transfer to the artillery I and then, joining his new regiment, ho j plunged with eagerness into the gaye! ties of city life. The blues were left I behind with the cold facings of his former corps, and hope, life, duty, were all blended in hues as roseate as his j new straps were red. It wasn't a | month before all the best fellows In I the batteries swore by Sam Waring and all the others at him, so that where there were live who liked there I were at least twenty who didn't, and these made up in quantity wlurt they lacked in quality. To sum up the situation, Lieut. Doyle's expression was perhaps the most comprehensive, as giving the j views of the great majority: "If I were j his K. 0. and this crowd the coort, he'd 'a' been kicked out of the service months ago." | And yet, entertaining or expressing I so hostile an opinion of the laughing lieutenant, Mr. Doyle did not hesitate to seek his society on many an occasion when he wasn't wanted, and to solace i himself at Waring's sideboard at any , hour of the day or night, for Waring ' kept what was known as "open house" to all comers, and the verv men who wondered how he could afford it and who predicted his speedy swamping- in a mire of debt and disgrace were the very ones who were most frequently to be found loafing about his gallery, smoking his tobacco and swigging his whisky, a pretty sure sign that the occupant of the quarters, however, was absent. With none of their number had he ever had open quarrel. Remarks made at his expense and reported to him in moments of bibulous confidence he treated with gay disdain, often to the manifest disappointment of his informant. In his presence even the most reckless of their number were conscious of a certain restraint. Waring, as has been said, detested foul language, and had a very quiet but effective way of suppressing it, often without so much as uttering a word. These were the rough days of the army, the very roughest it ever knew, the days that intervened between the incessant strain and tension of the four years' battling and the slow gradual I resumption of good order and military i discipline. The rude speech and man; ners or! the camp permeated every gar-. I rison. The bulk of the commissioned force was made up of bard fighters, brave soldiers and loyal servants of the nation, to be sure, but-, as a class they had known no other life or language since the day of their musterin. Of the line officers, stationed in and around this southern city in the lovely spring-tide of ISO?, of a foree aggregating twenty companies of infantry and cavalry, there were fifty captains and lieutenants appointed from the volunteers, the ranks, or civil life, to one graduated from West Point. The predominance was in favor of exsergeants. corporals or company clerks ?good men and true when they wore the chevrons, but who, with a few marked and most uumirame exceptions, proved to be utterly out of their element when promoted to a higher sphere. The entrance into their midst of (.'apt. Cram with his swell light battery, with ollieers and men in scarlet plumes and full-dress uniforms, was a revelation to the somber battalions whose ofliecrs had not yet even purchased their epaulettes and had seen no occasion to wear them. Hut when Cram and his lieutenants came swaggering about the garrison croquet ground in natty shell jackets, Russian shoulder knots, riding breeches, boots and spurs, there were jnot lacking those among the sturdy foot who looked upon the whole proceeding witli great disfavor. Cram had .two "rankers" with him when he came, j but one had been transferred out in I favor of Waring, and now his battery vvua au^niui mv? ??v AMI* vuiu^igaiciiM ! of subalterns?Doyle, very much out of place, commanding1 the right section (as a platoon was called in those days), , "Waring commanding the left. Ferry serving as chief of caissons, and Pierce as battery adjutant and general utility man. Two of the officers were graduates of West Point and not yet three ] years out of the cadet uniform. Under i these circumstances it was injudicious in Cram to sport in person the aiguillettes and thereby set an example to his subalterns which they were not i slow to follow. With their gold hat- i braids, cords, tassels and epaulettes, ! with scarlet plumes and facings, he and i his officers were already much more gorgeously bedecked than were their infantry friends. The post commander, old Hounds, had said nothing, because he had had his start in the light artil 'lery and might have lived and died a captain had he not pushed for a volunteer regiment and fought his way up to a division command and a lieutenant colonelcy of regulars at the close of the war, while his seniors who stuck 1 to their own corps never rose beyond the possibilities of their arm of . 'the service, and probably never will. But Braxton, who succeeded as post , commander, knew that in European armies and in the old Mexican war j days the aiguillette was ordinarily the distinctive badge of general officers or those empowered to give orders in their name. It wasn't the proper thing for a linesman?battery, cavalry or foot r?to wear, said Brax, and he thought Cram was wrong in wearing it, even I though some other battery officers did po. But* Cram was just back from Britain. ' Why, sir, look at the life guards! Look at the horse guards in London! Every officer and man wears the aiguillette." And Braxton was a Briton by birth and breeding, and that ended j jt?at least so nearly ended it that Cram's diplomatic invitation to come | up and try some Veuve Clicquot, extra dry, upon the merits of which he desired the colonel's opinion, had settled it for good and all. Braxton's officers ' who ventured to suggest that he trim the plumage of these popinjays only got snubbed, therefore, for the time boing, and ordered to get the Infantry , full dress forthwith, and Cram and his quartette continued to blaze fortli in 1 gilded panoply until long after Sam i Waring led his last gcrman within those echoing walls and his name lived j j only as a dim and mist-wreathed memory in the annals of old Jackson barracks. But on this exquisite April morning , no fellow in all the garrison was more prominent, if not more popular. Despite the slight jealousy existing bej tween the rival arms of the service, there were good fellows and gallant | men among the infantry officers at the j post, who were as cordially disposed ! towards the gay lieutenant as were the ; | comrades of his own (colored) cloth, j This is the more remarkable because he waB never known to make the faint-" | est effort to conciliate anybody and was utterly indifferent to public j opinion. It would have been fortune far better than his deserts, but for the j fact that by nature he was most generous, courteous and considerate. The soldiers of the battery were devoted to j j him. The servants, black or white, 1 would run at any time to do his capri- j clous wilL The garrison children j adored him. There \Vas simply no subject under discussion at the barracks in those days on which such utter variety of opinion existed as the real character of Lieut ; Sara Waring. As to his habits there was none whatever. lie was a bon vivant, a "swell," a lover of all that ; was sweet and fair and good and gracious in life. Self-indulgent, said everybody; selfish, said some; lazy, said many, who watched him daydreaming through the haze of cigar smoke until a drivo, a hop, a rido or , an opera party would call him into aotion. Slow, said the men, until they saw him catch Mrs. Winslow's runaway horse just at that ugly turn in j j the levee below the south tower. ) Cold-hearted, said many of the women, until Baby Brainard's fatal illness, j when he watched by the little sufferi er's side and brought her flowers and luscious fruit from town, and would j sit at her mother's piano and play soft, sweet melodies and sing in low, trcmu- i lous tone until the wearied eyelids , 5?= "and, colonel, i want youb a3 closed and the sleep no potion could brills to that fever-racked brain would coine at last for him to whom cliildlove was incense and music at once a passion and a prayer. Men who little | knew and less liked him thought his enmity would be but light, and few men knew him so well as to realize that his friendship could be firm and j true as steel. And so the garrison was mixed in its j mind as to Mr. Waring, and among i those who heard it said at the mesa i that he meant at all hazards to keep t his engagement to breakfast .in town there were some who really wished ho j ( might cut the suddenly-ordered review ( and thereby bring down upon his shapely, nonchalant head tho wrath of : Col. 1! rax ton. "Hoots and saddles" had sounded at | the artillery barracks. Mr. I'ierce, as battery officer of the day, had clattered I off through the north gateway. Tho battery had marched with dancing plumes and clanking sabers out to the stables and gun-shed. The horses of Lieuts. Doyle and Ferry were waiting for their riders underneath the gallery ! of their quarters. Capt. Cram, in much 1 i state, followed by his orderly bugler | and guidon-bearer, all in full uniform, was riding slowly down the sunny side i of the garrison, o.nd at sight of him ' Doyle and Ferry, who were leisurely ; pulling on their gauntlets in front of ; their respective doors, hooked up their j , sabers and came clattering down their ! stairway; but no Waring had appeared, j There, across the parade on the south- j crn side, the bay colt, caparisoned in Waring's unimpeachablo horse-equip- i ments, was being led up and down in ! the shade of the quarters, Mr. Pierce's . boy Jim officiating as groom, while his j confrere Ananias, out of sight,.was at ? tho moment on his knees fastening tho ! strap of his master's riding-trousers I underneath the dainty gaiter boot, Mr. Waring the while surveying the pro- , cccding over the rim of his coffee-cup. ' "Dar, sulu Now into de coat, quick! Yalinduli goes Capt. Cram." ' "Ananias, how often have I told you that, howsoever necessary it might be j for 3*ou to hurry, I never do? It's un- | bccominc an officer and a gentleman . I to hurry, sir." j "But you's got to inspect yo' section, . suh, bcio' you can repote to Capt. j Cram. Please hurry wid de sash, suh." | And, holding the belt extended with ! both hands, Ananias stood eager to clasp it around Waring's slender waist, but tlio lieutenant waved him I away. - UUb U1UU UCI11UU IIIW) iu*ji/ V*. -'?? Would you have me neglect one of the foremost articles of an artilleryman's faith? Never, sir! If there were a wrinkle in that sash it would cut a chasm in my reputation, sir." And, so saying, lie stepped to the open doorway, threw the heavy tassel over and around the knob, kissed his hand jauntily to his battery commander, now riding down the opposite sido of the parade, backed deliberately away the full length of the sash across the room, then, humming a favorite snateh from "Faust," deliberately wound himself into the bright crimson web, and, j making a broat flat loop near the j farther end and without stopping his song, nodded coolly to Ananias to come on with the belt. In the same calm and deliberate fashion he finished his military toilet, set his shako well forward on his forehead, the chin-strap hanging just below the under lip, pulled on the buff gauntlets, surveyed himself critically and leisurely in the j glass, and then began slowly to descend the stairs. "Wait?jus' ono moment,please,suh," j Implored Ananias, hastening after him. "Jus' happened to think of it, | suh: Capt Cram's wearin' gloves dis i mawnin'." "Ah! So much the more chance to come back here in ten minutes. Whoa, j coltikins; how are you this morning, sir? Think you could run away if I j begged you to pretty hard? You'll j try, won't you, old boy?" said Waring, stroking the glossy neck of tho im- | patient bay. "Now, Jim, let go. Never allow anybody to hold a horse . for you when you mount That's highly unprofessional, sir. That'll do." And, so saying, he swung himself Into the saddle, and, cheeking the bounds of his excited colt, rode calmly away to join the battery. Already tnc oanusmcn were rauruuing through the north gate on the ! way to the broad open field in which the maneuvers were held- The j adjutant, sergeant-major, and mark- i ers were following. Just outside the i gate the post commander was seated on horseback, and Cram had reined in to speak with him. Now, in his . blithest, cheeriest tones, Waring accosted them, raising his hand in salute ; as he did so: "Good morning, colonel. Good morning, Capt. Cram. We're in luck to-day. I Couldn't possibly have lovelier ! weather. I'm only sorry this came off bo suddenly and I hadn't time to invite , our friends out from town. They I would have been so pleased to see the j battalion?the ceremonies." "Il'm! There was plenty of time if j you'd returned to the post at retreat ' yesterday, sir," growled old Ilraxton. j "Everybody was notified who was J here then. What time did you get back, sir?" "Upon my word, colonel, I don't 1 know. I never thought to look or in- j quire; but it was long after taps. ; Pardon me, though, I see I'm late inspecting." And in a moment he was j riding quietly around among his ! .teams and guns, narrowly scrutiniz- j ing each toggle, trace and strap be- i fore taking station midway between j his lead drivers, and then, as Cram ap- j proached, reporting: "Left section ready, sir." Meantime, the infantry companies were marching out through the gate and then ordering arms and resting until adjutant's call should sound. Drivfirs and cannoneers were dismounted to await the formation of the battalion line. Waring rode forward and in the most jovial off-hand way began telling Cram of the incidents of ine previous uay auu ins sigiit-accniy | with the party ot visitors from the north. "By the way, I promised Mr. Aller.ton that they should see that team of yours before they left; so, if you've no .objection, the first morning you're on duty and can't go up, I'll take advantage of your invitation and drive Miss Allerton myself. Doesn't that court adjourn this week?" "I'm afraid not," said Cram, grim- i ,ly. "It looks as though we'd have to > .sit to-day and to-morrow both." "Well, that's too bad! They all want i ito meet you again. Couldn't you come 'up this evening after stables? Hello! 'this won't do; our infantry friends'will be criticising us; I see you're wearing gloves and I'm in gauntlets. So is Doyle. We can't fit him out, I'm _ _ I "f DVICE ABOUT THE CHAMPAGNE." afraid, but I've just got some from New York exactly like yours. I'll trot | back while we're waiting, if you don't object, and change them." Cram didn't want to say yes, yet didn't like to say no. He hesitated, ' and?was lost. In another moment, as i though never imagining refusal was ' possible, Waring had quickly ridden away through tne pate ana uisappeuruu behind the high brick wall. When the bugle sounded "mount," | three minutes later, and the batter}' broke into column of pieces to march ' away to the maneuvering1 grounds, Mr. ! Ferry left the line of caissons and took command of the rear section. All that the battery saw of Waring or his mount the rest of the morning was just after reaching the line, when the j fiery colt came tearing riderless around the field, joyfully dodging every attempt of the spectators to catch him, and reveling in the delight of kicking up his heels and showing off in the | presence and sight of his envious friends in harness. Plunge though they might, the horses could not join; dodge though they might the bipeds could not catch him. Review, inspection, and the long ceremonials of the morning went off without the junior , first lieutenant of Rettery X, who, for his part, went off without ceremony of any kind, Cram's stylish team and wagon with him. That afternoon he reappeared driving about the barrack squaro, a pretty girl at his side, both engrossed in the music of the band and apparently oblivious of the bottled-up wrath of either battery or post commander. "Re gorra!" said Doyle, "I'd like to | be in his place now, provided I didn't have to be in it to-morrow." But when the morrow came there was no Waring1 with it. The Court Changed Itrt Mind. A baker had been urrested for whipping his wife, and the court frowned on l.im sternly. "So," said the august judge, "you'vo been whipping your wife, have you?" "Yes, your honor, I don't deny it; I had a good reason." "You havo not, sir," thundered the judge. "No reason is sufficient for that. "But, your honor, let me explain." "Go on." "She hit mo with a flatiron, your honor, because I refused to go out to the World's fair and open a pio stand, and I" "That's enough," interrupted the court. "The case is dismissed without costs."? Detroit Free Press. WLAJUM^S ur lu U:\TJ 1. ! REV. THOMAS DIXON ON THE POVERTY OF SOME MONEYED MEN. Money Cumi?t liuy u Ilea! Homo or True ! A fleet Ion or the l.lfe of a I.oved One?Jay Gould Htitl >lrn. llooth. Cai?k Charlkk, Vu., July 23.?Rev. Thomas Dixon, Jr., preached today the fourth sermon in the series on the "AI- ; mighty Dollar, orttie Problem of Money and the Gospel of Christ," in the Methodist church 011 Cobb's island. Since the first Sunday the crowds are so large the ! building cannot uccouimodate^hem. The j text chosen was Proverbs xi, 28, "He that [ trusteth in his riches shall fall." Let no man believe that money in it- 1 self is an omnipotent power?that nion- ' ey in itself is the power that rules the j world. There never was a greater blun- j der.' There never was a sadder mistake. As a matter of fact, money in itself is i the weakest thing on this earth. First?It cannot even make a gentle- ; man We see strutting down the streets of a great western city a man who sud- 1 dcnly became possessed of a fortune of $1,000,000. He purchased his paper from , the newsboy on the corner, and in his | grandiloquent way. when the little fel- ! low handed him back his change, re- , turned it to the boy, saying. "Keep your money, sonny; keep the change; take it and buy a cake of soap to wash your I face." The little fellow drew himself } up. and handing back the money indignantly replied. "Take your pennies and go and buy a book on etiquette and learn how to be a gentleman." The possession of money does not even imply that a man is a gentleman. MONEY AND THE HOME. Second?It cannot mako u home. A man may own houses by the possession of money, but money in itself cannot build u homo. I know men who own miles of houses who do not have a home. To possess a house is one tiling, a home another thing. The poor man who believes he can buy it with money makes as grave a mistake as the millionaire who tries to construct his ideal in the palace on the crowning hill. It is said that an j Irishman, who was so ugly that he could ' find nobody who would marry him in j the old world, came to America to try i his fortune. Ashe walked the streets ho j saw a sign which read, "Families sup- | plied." He went in at the side door and ' asked the clerk if families were supplied. ! The gentleman behind the counter replied that they were. He ran his hand j in his pocket, drew out his greasy wallet | and began to unroll his money. Ho said . to the clerk, "I will take a wife and two ! children." This impossible story but . states in the concrete a truth so simple and yet so hard for man to learn that the | brightest dream of the soul of man cannot bo had in life for money?silver, gold ! or bank notes. Equally impossible is it for the man of millions to build a home out of his j money. On Knob hill, in ban Francisco, there are magnificent palaces that cost millions whose /broad sweeping lawns are overgrown with tangled grass, whose doors are locked and bolted and barred. One of them was owned by a great millionaire senator. Why this desolation ? now? He built it for a home. It cost millions. Simply because he walked over the threshold of that house one day behind the coffin of the only child he had in the world. As he crossed the door of his palace home he declared, "I will - never cross the threshold of this house again if I live to be 100 years old!" He sent carpenters, bolted and barred and nailed the palace up, and he has never crossed the doorsill since. Money is a mighty power, and yet it is the weakest thing in the world. It cannot make a man a gentleman. It cannot give a man a home. And if a man has no home and is not a gentleman, what is he? Third?So weak is money in itself that | it cannot give a man life. A policeman I on the force of New York who has been j a brave and faithful officer, who broke up : several gangs of roughs in several quarters of the city, who tramped his beat j with a sense of duty and of the highest i service to the state, was recently left a i fortune, and a few weeks after he re- ( reived his fortune?money sufficient to lift him from poverty to wealth and lux- ; ury and the things of this world?his j body was found dead in his room with a i pistol bullet in his brain. Why should ! he slay himself when he had been given release from his hard task, when lie ! would be required no longer to tramp ; the streets and bravo the dangers of the j storms of winter and the sweltering suns of summer, to go on his dark errand of arrest in the dangerous quarters of the city, when he might have lived his life ! of ease and luxury? Simply because there was a little country girl, whom he ; had learned to love who died three weeks j before, and he declared that life was not 1 worth living because she had been taken J from him. He had money and all its j power, and life was not worth living. MONEY VERSUS WEALTH. Fourth?Money is so weak that it can- 1 not even give a man wealth. We are apt to confuso wealth with money. A man may have money, but not bo rich. ReaJ riches are one thing, money another. 1 heard of a grocer who was I growing rich. Tfiey said, by way of 1 parenthesis, that ho was so stingy and mean that ho would chase a fly all around tho room for a grain of sugar. Riches are impossible under such conditions. Such a man may accumulate money?he may possess it?but he is not j rich. Th?Duke of Brunswick had accumulated his treasures. He had his wealth in diamonds and gold. He had a room built whose windows were of iron bars, whose doors were of iron, double riveted. There was an opening in the solid stone ; wall of tho room in which there was an iron safe. His treasures were there j placed. He slept in an iron bedstead rolled against this iron door. There was only a single window through whose dim j light the sun greeted him. He slept with two enormous pistols by his bedside and J with a light always in the room. Was this man rich? Did he possess his wealth, or did his wealth possess him? As a matter of fact, he was a miserable dog chained k > his treasures. I had rather be a com- i moil cur dog and wander through the j streets and highways than to be such a man shut up in a dog kennel forever. THE RUSSIAN S BED. Was the Russian nobleman rich who owned his vast acres and his millions, who proudly displayed his treasures to his friends, in the possession of them? Ho took tho stranger through every room ; ifi his house, showed him each art treasure, while he wondered at their beauty 1 and value. He took him into his bed- j chamber, showed him the magnificent tapestries, wonderful eastern rugs, the marvelous bedstead, with its quaint curving, its inlaid precious stones. The Russian fairly swelled with pride jus he look| cd down on this bed, the laces on which wcro worth their weight in gold. "But is it not magnificent?" he asked his guest, j , The guest replied that it was certainly j tho most wonderful bed he had ever , seen. With a sly wink the Russian replied: "But you do not suppose, man, 1 that I sleep on top of that? I sleep un- ' der here." Ho lifted tho covering and showed a mean trundle bed beneath tho ! great bed. You could not make a man like that rich. Put him in a palace; give : him a bed worth a million dollars to sleep in; ho would not sleep in it: he would go out and sleep with the dog. It is his nature. He has not the capacity for riches. j j Wealth is not a question of arithmetic j merely; it is a question of capacity, of power in the possessor. MONKY A FICTION. Fifth?Money in itself is so weak that I it has no intrinsic value. Money, wlieth- ' ) er it be of gold or of silver or of paper, I ) has in itself no inherent value. The gold- | I 1..,,, iniiiavM tlmt imlil isi tin* cure for all l UU(j VUAAV ? V.44?v O | ills. The silver fanatic declares that the demonetization of silver. And the greenback dreamer declares that all we need is for government to print the money. Now. as a matter of fact, the man who supposes that either paper or silver or gold or copper have in themselves any intrinsic value makes a fundamental error. Money in itself has no value. It is valuable not in itself, but for what it signifies in the community. Suppose that a millionaire turn his fortune into gold. Suppose Mr. Gould had liquidated all his possessions in business, placed the result, $7a,000,000, in his yacht and started around the world in a pleasure tour. Suppose he hud been cast 011 a desert island, his vessel wrecked, he alone surviving, having saved his money. He piles it up in the sand; there it lies. He sits down 011 it and proceeds to starve to death. How much is I10 worth as he sits 011 that pile of yellow mold? Ho is worth nothing. Ho is a pauper; he is a beggar. The gold is all there. The coin is of due weight. It is not short, has not been injured in the transit; it does not tarnish in the water. And yet bo is worth nothing. Suppose a passing vessel takes him aboard, transports him to New York with his money and again lands him in Wall street. lie has his money in the vaults of the Safe Deposit company. How much now is he worth? He is worth the face value of his coin?$7"),000,000. Why? Because the community gives to this metal the supposed value. Wealth is power over men. Money is wealth as it is power over men. The true value of money is a communal value. It is one that is bound up with the heart blood of the whole community. It is one that comes in and tlirnnf?h the community. No man there fore hus the right to do whut he pleases with what lie may possess. A mini's money is not simply his own. It belongs in one sense?and a high sense?to the community. No man has a right to do what he pleases with what he may possess. A man only has tho right to do not what he pleases, but what he ought to do. Money is power. All power is a trust. JAY GOULD on Mils. DOOTH? Sixth?As a matter of fact, money is so weak that it does not touch the heart range of real life. A millionaire died tho other day and was buried, and nobody cared as to where he was butted. It was a matter of 110 importance. As to the incidents of his death, they did not touch the heart of the people. He owned money enough to shake the financial world from ocean to ocean. A woman died in London recently who had 110 money, but thousands thronged toiler bier and begged the privilege of looking 011 her dead face. For days and weeks tho procession filed by tho body. Day and night, an unceasing 6tream, thousands and hundreds of thousands of eager faces, looked into her face with love and with infinite tenderness. Men who had been lifted from the ditch and the gutter and clothed and in their right minds stood over tho coffin and cried-like children. Women who had been abandoned to all hope and life and who had been snatched as a brand from the burning stood with tear stained faces and kissed the cold lips with passionate love. A mother passed by the bier and looked with longing eyes into tho face of the dead. Those who were standing iu line, impatient to see, fearful lest the body would be removed before they could have their longed for look, cried to her that she must movo on. She lifted her streaming eyes to them and replied: "Let others move on. I have the right to stay. I have the right to look into her dead face. She saved my child." Kings and princes and nobles, emperors and chiefs of the race, have been buried in pomp. Nations have done honor to their honored dead. But this earth never saw such a funeral as that which was spontaneously, was resistlessly given to Mrs. Booth, the mother of the Salvation Army. Wealth has been defined to be power over men. Money does not touch the highest realm of this power. MANHOOD OR MONEY? Seventh?A word from- the lips of man, backed by manhood, can do what all the gold of earth cannot accomplish. Money is a mighty power, but manhood is a mightier one. Wealth is power over men. Let us see what can bo done with money. When Napoleon was engaged in one of his irreat wars, vou remember that the town of Ratisbon was taken. He deputed his chief marshal to do this work. Ratisbon was a walled town, practically impregnable. Nupoleon saw that it was the key to the situation. The marshal commissioned his officer to do the work. He drew up his soldiers before the town and called for volunteers. Immediately the number of men called for stepped forward. They were ordered to the charge and gallantly made the assault. Every soldier fell back from tho walls dead. Not a man returned to tell the story of their gallant assault. Again the officer called for volunteers, and again they stepped forward, more slowly than at first, but still a sufficient number, all that had been called for. Again they rushed to the walls, again they made the assault, and again every man fell back dead. Not a living soul returned to tell the story of the struggle. Again the officer called for volunteers. Not a man stirred. They looked upon the pile of the dead that lay beneath the walls, and no man would venture to make the charge. Now you may bring before that line of men all tho money on this earth, and you may offer it to them if they will make tho charge, and thero could not be piled before them 111011 ~y enough to induce those soldiers to charge over that pyramid of the dead, over those walls. But you remember what happened. The marshal himself, seeing these two fruitless charges and seeing the failuro of the officer to enlist for tho third assault, rushed himself before the line, and snatching tho standard from the standard bearer, turning to the men, ho said to them with his face flashing with the electric fire of his great personality, "Soldiers, I will show you that a marshal of Franco was once a grenadier!" Snatching a scaling ladder in the other hand, ho rushed toward the walls. Instantly a hundred bravo men had leaped from tho ranks, snatched the ladder from his hands and the standard, and hurrying tho marshal to the reur with a shout they rushed to the walls, scaled them successfully and took the town with scarcely the loss of a single life! Wealth is power over men?power to command men. Money may or may not signify this power. Thero are hours in the lives of men that it has no power to command. THK CHRISTIAN AND BRUTE WAR. Let us be sure that no Christian can engage in tho modern brute war of fur iiimmv in itself. Tliiit struir gle and all that it signifies I would arraign and impeach in the name of the widow and the orphan; in the name of the hungry, and the homeless, and the despairing; in the name of the weak, and the downtrodden, and the oppressed; in the name of your potter's field and its clustering institutions. Christianity means weakness ruling strength. The work of the Christian is not to seek money for itself, of itself. The world may bo mad in its struggle for money in itself. Men may forget humanity in that struggle. It may be impossible for the Christian today to convince the world that the world is wrong. It may be impossible for us to revolutionize at once tho methods of a social organization which makes the seeking of money and the accumulation of money in itself the end and aim of life. THE DIVINE ORATORIO However this may be, it is tho duty of tho Christian to live his life, to play his part, to sing his own song, whatever be the chaos, tho confusion, the disorder about him. In thus playing hisown part he will bring tho world at lust into harmony, just as that singer in tho choir ] out or uiscoru. iv greui musician nap; i>cniug in ji church one Sunday found thu choir in discord. Hy stopped his earn to keep out the din, and through the discord caught the single note of a sweet i soprano voice in that jhoir, singing the song in perfect tune. She did not attempt to drown the voices of the others, j either those of the choir out of tuno or the congregation that floundered help| lessly in the effort to follow. She simply sang her own part, in her own time, in her own way. She was singing it to a leader unheard by others. She was keeping time to the harmony of her own soul. So struck was he by the weird effect of this voice, sinking in the midst of tho din and roar, that ho removed his hand from his ear to listen. Sweeter and sweeter grew tho voico until presently one of those in the choir nearest caught the note from her and joined in perfect time. In a few moments the whole choir were in tune and this voice leading, and I then the congregation were in perfect ' harmony, and then tho great church building was flooded with a glorious melody that swept every soul with resistless power. So the Christian is called upon to play his part. So he is called upon to sing I his divine oratorio of the ages. The time comes to every man when he must } choose once in life. The end of life it j must be?self or sacrifice,-dirt or dia! monds, worms or immortality. A CLEVER PROSECUTING ATTORNEY. j A Short, Convincing Speech Which Sent the Culprit to tho Penitentiary. The prosecuting attorney in the circuit court of an Illinois county some years ago was a lawyer whose early education had been defective, but who was so shrewd and "long headed" that few more dangerous antagonists could be found at the bar at that region. At one timo he had procured the indictment of a well known scamp for theft. The amount alleged to have been stolen was $5, and at that time the penalty for stealing $.1 ut more was imprisonment at hard labor in the penitentiary. For stealing less than that the punishment was confinement in tho county jail without labor. The evidence proved beyond dispute the stealing of a ?5 bill of the State Bank of Illinois, but the prisoner's counsel I brought several business men to swear that it was not worm its raco in goia, but all agreed that in ordinary transacI tions it would pass for $o. * Over this testimony tho prisoner's" counsel quibbled for two hours, while tho prosecuting attorney listened in patience. 1 When his turn came, he rose quietly, and in his usual nasal drawl said: "Gentlemen, I hope the learned counsel won't get offended if I dor.'t talk but just ous minute. All I've got to say is this: The prisoner don't pretend to deny that he stolo our money, and all he asks of you is just to give him the privilege of stealing it at a discount!" He sat down, and the jury sent the j thief to tho penitentiary without leaving | the box.?Youth's Companion. An Odd I'luco For a Stowaway. When tho fish tanks of the Great | Northern railway arrived from Grimsby i at the Royal mint depot for transference ' to Billingsgate, tho fish porters proceeded ; as usual with light hearts and ichthyJ ological jokes to unload the cargoes. Suddenly n great cry of terror arose among them. One shouted, "It's a porpoise!" Another, "It's a shark!" Athird, "It's an octopus!" and a fourth, "It must bo Jonah!" Surely enough, something ! abnormal was in tho tank, but as it made ! no attempt to bite anybody the proposal ! to run round to the Tower for tho loan of ; a gun to shoot it was not carried into effect. There it lay serenely and peacefully cradled among tho fish, which wabbled around it as the tank was moved. When the porters regained their self possession and examined the object, they ! found it was a man sound asleep. After he had beeu well shaken they asked what ho was doing there, when he modestly replied: "I'm working my passage to London. I worked it on a smack from Hull to Grimsby, and as I have some friends in London I thought I should like to see : them, so I got in among tho fish." He gave his name as John Waterhouse and was carried, after being washed and scraped, before tho lord mayor, charged with traveling on tho railway without a ! ticket, and his lordship gavo him the option of paying 5 shillings or going to prison for three days.?London Telegraph. Tho Malays of tho Midway. There is a popular impression in Amer ica that all Malays are confirmed pirates ' who revel in gore, but a few minutes at dinner with tho party at the fair will probably knock that idea into a mistaken past. The Javanese on the Midway are 1 as amiable a group of pirates as ever ! "cut n throat or scuttled a ship." They make friendly advances with the remark, "Like Chicago: very good Chicago," smile good naturedly and tender some of their peculiar cigarettes, which are covered with thin bamboo leaf, held ! in place with a bit of twine. They give ; the Javanese names of objects lying | about and in pantomime ask for the English equivalent. The women are bright eyed little things, not a bit shy and bent on learning English by asking the names of things. They wear a single piece of cloth | for a jacket and another strip, wrapped about the body and tucked ih at the J loins, answers for a skirt. They eat j among the men and are full of smiles i that reveal their teeth. The girls have ' white, regular molars, but among the ' women some of the teeth seem to have been worn off the gums, leaving black stumps.?Chicago Inter Ocean. Strungo Fatullty. The Boston Transcript, which devotes considerable space to geneological tables, etc., notes the strange fatality that attended one of the early families on the Kennebec. Philip Dumaresque, who came from the Channel islands to Boston in 1710, had a son Philip who married Rebecca, daughter of a Dr. Sylvester Gardiner of Boston. Their son | Philip was in the royal navy and drowned 1 at Southampton, England. James, ani other son, a lawyer, moved to Dresden, Me., settled on Swan's island on the old Dr. Gardiner farm and was drowned Oct. 28, 1S20, by his boat upsetting on the Kennebec. His son Philip, a sea | captain, married Mary Deblois of Boston. She. with her daughter and Miss Sarah Richards of Gardiner, were | drowned in the Kennebec in li)o5, her ! husband being drowned in Long Island j sound six years later. Captain Duraaresque's daughter, the sister of Captain Philip, married Colonel Thomas Perkins of Boston, and their daughter Louisa is the widow of Morris Hunt, the artist, who was drowned at the isle of I Shoals. Good Feeling ut Gettysburg. Major William A. Wallace is full of anecdotes of the celebrations and dedica! tious at Gettysburg. When the "bluo : and gray" reunion was held there, but! tons were at a premium. After the first ! day one couldn't tell winch was vioim! ny" and which was "Yank." They exchanged buttons, badges and in some I instances whole uniforms. So it was that former foes were so intermingled that no one know exactly "where he was at." Major Wallace started out one ! night in quest of a Confederate badge, | but could not find one excepting on the i breast of a Union veteran. He gave up j the quest and made up his mind to rest content with a button. Finally he found ; a "reb" and begged the gift. The soldier from the south smiled audibly anil i said: "Look at me, Yank, I haven't got i a button on my person. I am skewered ; and a walking paper of pins. If I get home with my clothes on, I shall be playing in luck, but you can have one of my shoo strings if yo like."?Albany Argus.