Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, February 20, 1895, Image 1

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

r I __ LEWIS >1. CJ-RIST, Proprietor. | ^11 JiulcpClulCIlt ,J[iUllill! ^flCHpapCI': <JjOr; tllC |)l'0lll0(i011 Of till! |3otifal, ^Oljiill, ^QtiCllltllfitl iliul (CoilUHCi^Ciill JflltClCSlS of till! ^Ollth. |TERMS?$2.00 A YEAR IN ADVANCE. VOL.41. " YOBKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, FEERUARY 2Q, 1895. 3STO. 8. ?? A SEQUEL TO ( ^ ~ > BY CAPT. F. A. MIT Copyrighted,'.181M by American Press Ass SYNOPSIS OF CHATTANOOGA. Private Mark Maynanl is sent by General Thomas from the Union camps in a central Tennessee scouting toward Chat? * tanooga and barely escapes capture by Confederates through the cunning of a \ native girl?Souri Slack. He gets a suit 3 of citizen's clothes at Slack's, and Jakey 3 Slack, a lad of 13, goes with him to help 3 disguise his character. Souri gives Mark 3 a silk handkerchief as a memento. i 5' Mark and the boy beg supper and lodg 'I ing at the house of Mrs. Fain, a Southern 1 woman married to a Northern man, who I is absent in the Union lines. Captain 1 Fitz Hugh, C. S. A., a suitor ot Laura I * Fain's, drops in and suspects that the Bfct strangers may be Union spies; but Laura RBK*??^.y<Vards off investigation, and the travelers K resume their journey undisturbed. Mark reaches Chattanooga,* is captured B- a?d condemned as a spy. H; Jakey sends Souri's silk handkerchief home by friendly Negroes and Souri takes H a hint, hastens to Chattanooga and helps K Mark to escape jail. R Mark reaches the Fains' house and is H protected by Laura. tU The remaining chapters show how H' Laura decides between Captain Fitz Hugh R and Mark, compelling the Confederate R to shield his Yankee rival. Mark travels B toward the Union lines with Mrs. Fain H and Laura, is recaptured and again spared B by Captain Fitz Hugh, marries his fair B protector, reaches the Union camp with H valuable information about the enemy H and is rewarded for his exploit by apH pointment as an officer on the staff of R General Thomas. 1 CHAPTER VL 9 TULLAHOMA. If Colonel $Iayuard was ordered to push jK forward down the road from Manches ter toward Tullahoma in order to test % the truth of Jakey Slack's information. m Jakey begged permission to go with him, but the colonel told him that he had better go back to his father and \kister. Jakey argued that he could as *|Well return from Tullahoma if they should reach it, and, if not, from any 'point where they might halt. The colonel at last consented, and as they rode off ho remarked to the members of his staff, using the conventional military phrase for announcing a staff officer in orders, "Gentlemen, this is Jacob Slack, volunteer aid-de-camp to the colonel commanding the ?th cavalry brigade, and will be obeyed and respected as such." The announcement, couched in these terms, so delighted Jakey that he came well nigh losing his balance and falling off old Tom's back and getting himself trampled on by the rest of the staff. But after tho first flurry ho made j a most efficient aid-de-camp?that is, J if riding close beside the colonel and; being always ready for an order which 1 was never given constitutes a good staff j officer. About noou the fortifications around the town of Tullahoma suddenly appeared before them. Though it was plain now that they were not to be defended, \ the advancing forco hnlf expected to see a cloud of smoke burst from them. But [ they were silent and impotent, without ti troops to man them. Dashing from the edge of th? wood, Colonel Maynard, followed bjt Jakey and the rest of the staff, rode .over the j y intervening space, and in a few minutes were climbing the slanting sides of tho earthworks. A point had been | gained which, without the previous ma- { neuvers, .would have cost thousands of lives. Even Jakey Slack, who can hardly be called an educated soldier, experienced a certain comfort on riding unopposed over breastworks so formidable. , Once within them, he got off his horse, (S and seeing a big siege gun from under which tho carriage had been burned ?? climbed on to it and sat a-straddle, waving his hat and cheering as vociferously as if tho victory had been exclusively ' due to his own genius. His hilarity was suddenly quenched by the colonel, who, riding up to him, told him that tho brigade was ordered forward in pursuit of the retreating enemy, and that ho most go back to his father and sister. Jakey begged hard to go on, but Iris appeal was unavailing. His brief dignity must be resigned. ; From aid-de-camp on the staff of the colonel commanding the ?th brigade, "to be obeyed and respected as such," ho must be reduced to the level of a small boy. The rnlnnpl L'.avft him a hnc hpfnrn ! parting and told him that he would send a trooper with him to see him safely on his way. Had Jakey been a sol- j dier his action on this occasion would have been considered by any court martial rank mutiny. "D'y' think I hain't nobody nohow? Didn't I go with y' last summer ter Chattanooga when y' war nuthin but a scout? 'N didn't I stay in jail with y'? . 'N now yer talkin 'bout seudin a sojer v with me fo' a nurse.'' "All right, Jakey. Go it alone if you prefer it." The colonel rodo away, and Jakey, shorn of tho plumage he had worn bo becomingly for a wholo half day, proceeded on his return journey. Hw first inquired the most direct route to Hillsboro, and having been directed, to it he ( set off at a brisk trot. He had eaten nothing since ei^ly moiling and was ravenously hungry, AJfa farmhouse by ^ tha way he securafi a meal for himself and a good feod^frr Tom. Then the old j woman who burnished theni gave him him again on his not gono far before he road connecting Hillsboro ' tho place called Concord. Tho fl^^^HJPI^BBfvhiuh he was traveling forked BMH^^Efyintothaother at an acute angle, the two H^^^Byl^nuingiioarly parallel for a short disahead toward tho fork, which struck him at once HB asbemg astonishingly familiar. It was |^|HS none other than the rawboued horse and paint bereft buggy ho had seen several .'times before. As it drew near, Jakey could see sonic one in the buggy, and I he was not long in recognizing tho peculiar dress of Miss Betsy Baggs. "Hello, Miss Baggs! Whar y' goin at?' ho called. Never a word spoko Miss Baggs. She sat bolt upright hi her buggy, regard- j ing tho boy fixedly as Bobby Lee trian- , gulated onward. As she passed sho ; ? ^hitrlr Lvirmiiir* h nr (BB turned ner m-uu j.w?Vi nvuillll6 Mvji QB spectacles on Jakey with an unearthly v stare. There is something superstitious in all hunan beings and especially in boys. Something like a shiver ran down \ Jakey's back at sight of this singular - person, who knew him perfectly, yet j who passed him, her bead turning mechanically, without uttering a word. For a moment ho was tempted to believe that Miss Baggs had perished, and this was her ghost going to seek rest in some other land than war scarred Tennessee But this fooling was momentary. Throwing it off, he shouted: "Shell I give yer lovo ter Rats when I see Win?" If Miss Baggs was trying to make tho boy believe be was mistaken, or that ho saw her disembodied spirit, her effort failed signally at this point. A peal of suppressed laughter came back on tho broeze to Jakey. Looking after her, ho saw the back of the buggy, from which streamed the tatters of the top and uui der it Bob Lee's four logs mingled in inextricable confusion, doing some of their best work. "She una hain't bent 011 no good," said Jakoy to himself as ho gave Tom a 3?g- "Reckon she's up ter somep'n." Jakey rodo on rousing upon Miss Baggs, He had noticed her kind treatment of his sister, and as Jakey was HAWiL CHATTANOOGA, CHEL, LATE li. S. A. ociation. I | disposed to regard Sonri the most irn; portaut person ou earth after Colonel Maynard Miss Baggs had thus found her way into that youthful something or other which for want of a better name may bo called Jakey's heart His remark was made with great seriousness. Jakoy felt that it was his duty as a Union sympathifer to put sonio one I on Miss Baggs' track. "She mought bo ; worketi fo' the Confederates," he mused, " ?n then Igin sbo moughtu't" ti.o rimripas most acrroeablo to iuu KUIVL TIVTI "O him, because li? likoel Miss Baggs aud would grievo to#ee any harm conio to ; her. -- ' While ho was jogging along, turning tho matter orer in his mind, he saw : several horsemen in bluo and yellow ; como tearing down tho road. They reined in when th?y came up with him and opened a volley of questions. "Say, boy, did you seo a woman with a striped dress and goggles go by?" " 'N a long legged wind busted critter?" ; "Yes." J1 " 'N an ole rattlin buggy?" "Yes." "Whatd'y' want with her?" "Nevermind that. Havo you seen : her?" j "Waal, never mind whether I havo or j not. Git up, Tom!" This .brought the questioner to terms. "Areyou a Confederate boy?" %"Don't I livo in Tennessee?" j "I suppose that means you are Con> federate. We've no time to lose. Tho woman in that buggy is?is"? He was conjuring up a story to deceive the VI "lldlo, Minn Bagrjs!" stupid looking boy before him and get tho required information, but he was not good at inventions. Jakey came to the rescue. "Wanted byyouuus' general or colonel or somep'n?" "Yes." ' 'Fo' ter keep her outen danger coz she's like nuff to run inter a guerrilla camp?" The man looked wonderingly at the boy, who was making a story for him unasked. "Y-e-s," ho replied, uncertain what to say. "Waal, she's gone along thar. When y' git ter th' fork in th' road, take th' left fork." .. .) "All right Thanks, my little man," and the party gallopod away to tako the wrong road on reaching the fork. Jakey pursued his course meditatively "Reckon that warn't me done thet. 'T must 'a' beu some un else. I air a Union boy, I air. She nil's Confederate. Like nuff some un got spicion of her. Reckon I cau't be Union ef I helped her out. Waal, she likes Souri anyway. Reckon she won't do ho harm." Notwithstanding tho view taken at tho close of Jakey's soliloquy, he felt very much dissatisfied with himself. Ho rode on thoughtfully, wondering what Colonel Maynard would say if he should know what ho had done. Ho soon met a soldier on a lamo horse. Jakey inferred that he belonged to tho party ahead, but had been obliged to drop out of the chase. "Say, mister," called tho boy, "what them uus cliasiu tbet woman in tho buggy fo'?" "Did you pass her." uv,.? > x ca. "Pot 'cm on tbe track?" "Reckon." "She tried to slip through the lines on a forged pass. Tho guard was suspicious and took tho pass to headquarters ?after letting her go through, though, like a fool?when the trick was discovered." "Waal, reckon they'll ketch hor," and Jakoy rode on. As the dusk of tho evening was coming 011 Tom was seen by Farmer Slack sfar down tho street advancing at a jog trot and on him Jakey, bobbing up and down, his elbows stuck out 011 each sido 'and his littlo legs at an obtuso angle -with tho rest of his body. Riding up to tho littlo porch in front of tho house, Jakey slid down from Tom's high back with as much dignity as ho could command on descending from such a height. Tho whole household, including tho children, was there to receivo him, and Jakey was about to give them an account of how ho had served on Colonel Maynard's staff when he caught his father's eyo. "You, Jake," said Mr. Slack, "didn't I send y' out ter tli' barn ter look arter the critters last night, 'n now yer been ridin all over, nobody knows whar. Whar y' ben?" "Waal," said Jakey, taking his cue readily, "Ifoun Tom loose, 'n I follercd him all over tli' United States." "I'm glad y'got him," replied the father. "Go in 'n git yer supper." CHAPTER VII. OLD FRIENDS MEET. It was tho middle of August before the different columns of tho Army of the Cumberland began to cross tho mountains between it and Chattanooga in pursuit of the Confederates who had withdrawn to that place and there intrenched themselves. Meanwhile tho Slack family had arrived at their homo near Jasper, in tho Sequatchie valley. Much to Souri's surprise, everything about the place looked uncouth. When she left it a vear before, it was all she had over known. A ten mouths' residence in the north, surrounded by every comfort, associating with tho daughters of refined people, had made a great change in her. Now tho furuituro appeared dilapidated, tho rag carpets rough. Indeed thero was u disappointment about "sweet home" that she had not expected. Nevertheless she did not sit down and repiuo over it. She had no means of procuring anything better, but sho found that she could do a great deal of patching. With considerable forethought she had brought some cheap material of different kinds with her from tho north, and this she used to tho best advantage. She mado neat valances for the beds, cushions for her mother's rocking chair, scarfs for tho bureaus?iu fact, with very littlo sho mado quite a revolution in tho house. Her great anxiety was her brother. Jakey had attended well to his studies whilo at school, but his teachers had found it impossible to change his methods of expressing himself. As soon as he reached Tennessee ho began to relapse into tho state of scmibarbarism in which ho had lived before tho coming ; of his advantages. Souri knew that j there was no hope for improvement in her father and mother. Instead of trou- | bling them when their ways of acting | and speaking shocked her, sho refrained I I from comment, but when Jakey ciroppect i into his old ways slio tried hard to check i him. Besides she felt that it was neces| sary to keep a strict guard over herself, ! for she had noticed that when under any excitement or when her feelings i wero deeply touched she was apt to forget herself and bo once more the "poor I white" girl of former days. There was another cause of solicitude as to Jakey. It must be admitted, notI withstanding Jakey's good points and a , certain original shrewdness thero was about him, that he never was the samo boy after his few hours of service on | Colonel Maynard's staff. It was con1 stantly "when I war Colonel Maynard's aid-der-camp," or "when the colonel ! 'u me rode inter Tullyhomy," or' 'when I carried the news of the rovacuation." , Then ho would strut about with his ! hands in his pockets, much to his father's amusement and Souri's dread that ho would run away and join the i Union army. But one day when he | threatened to do so Souri took him to task for it and mado him promise that he would not. This ended her anxiety, . for Jakey -would us soon have forgotten ! his military honors as break a pledge to I his sister. The Army of the Cumberland was now advancing by every possible route ! toward Chattanooga. Ono of tho routes : taken by tho Union army lay through tho Sequatchie valley and directly past ; tho Slacks' littlo farm. One evening Souri was leaning over tho gate thoughtfully when she saw several j mounted men in blue, with yellow facings, trotting down the road. They i wero tho, first bluccoats to appear of i tho host that was coming. There is a certain jaunty air, a devil may caro ap! pearance, about a trooper who becomes used to being always on horseback. Each man and horse seemed the same { animal. Their sabers clanked in unison, and they wero chatting and laughing as if they had como to tho south with only the most peaceful intentions. When, they reached the gate where Souri stood, ono of them, lifting his hat politely, asked. "Would yo mind mo goin to tho well for a littlo water?" In tho brilliant display that was re veoled by tho lifting of the man's hat ; Souri recognized a head she could never ; forget?tho head of Corporal Ratigan. "Why," she said, "ain't you Cor; poral Ratigan?" "I am, mo young lady, and if Oi'm not mistaken yo'ro ono of tho party that was goin through the lines ono day a fow weeks ago.'' Jakey at this moment came around i the houso in a fashion at which he had becomo expert at school. This was turning handsprings sideways like a cart wheel. Seeing tho soldiers, ho suddenly remembered his dignity as former volunteer aid-de-camp, and straightening up pulled his hat down over tho back of his head and tried to look military. True, his hair was in his eyes, but his military training had only been for ono morning, and Jakey's hair was always in his eyes. Doubtless it would havo required months of training from a drill sergeant to get it to growing any other way. Approaching tho fence, ho climbed it and sat with ono lec on each sido of it. "Do yo kuow me, me boy?" asked Ratigau. "Docs I know one o' them signal lights on tk' mounting?" "Oh, Jakey," sighed his sister. "Well, me lad," pursued the corporal, laughing. "Who am I?" "Rats." "I seo ye have a good memory. Rats. It's quaro ye should havo remembered that." And tho corporal chuckled good naturedly. "Mcbbo y' remember some un's name." "And who is that?" "Miss Baggs." "Certainly I do," said tho corporal somewhat startled and confused. "I sor her t'other day." "Yo don't mean it?" "Reckon I do." "Whore?" "Slio war a-trottin thet olo critter o' hern, goin no'th like shot from a squirrel gun." "Upon mo word!" ejaculated the corporal, evidently much interested. "Reckon slio war up to somep'n." '' What makes ye think so?'' And Ratigau changed his position in his saddle uneasily. "Waal, v;hcn we uns met her"? "Oh, Jakey, pleaso don't say wo uns," interrupted Souri. "Waal, when wo met her outen th' j reach o' you uns (Souri gave a despairj ing look, but said nothing) sho talked peart nuff, '11 sho knowed me, too, but when she passed me on th' road t'other day no'th o' th' Union army sho only stared at 1110 through her gogglo eyes i 'n didn't say nothin nohow." "And what do vo supposo that was for?" "Reckon she war in a linrry 'bout j omep'u 'u didn't want ter stop 'u talk or nothin." "Did you speak to her?" j "I asked her ef I c'd givo her lovo ter Rats when I sor hiiu." Corporal Ratigau's Irish good nature triumphed over his desho to reach down and givo the boy a cuff. Jakey's countenance was solemn, as usual, and did not break into a smilo in response to the corporal's embarrassed laugh. Ho opened tho gate, and Ratigan rodo into tho yard, followed by his troopers. They refreshed themselves from a gourd which hung in the wellhouso; then, filling their canteens, they rodo away. But Souri and Jakey wero destined soon to meet one who was of far more consequence to both than Corporal Ratigan. The next morning whilo Souri was setting the house to rights she heard I tho beating of innumerable horses' hoofs. Going to tho window and looking up the road, which stretched northward for a long distance, in full view she saw a column of cavalry approaching. Before the head of tho column had reached the hcuso tho whole Slack family were standing in tho yard gaping. Two regiments passed, though each seemed like an army, for cavalry occupies three or four times tho space of infantry. Between the second and third regiments was a gap of a few hundred yards. In this rodo an officer especially noticeable for his youth and manly beauty, attended by his staff and escort. On approaching the Slack cabin ho motioned to these to go 011, and wheeling his horse from the road unattended rode up to the party of lookers on. Jakey, who was standing 011 the fence, gavo a spring and was caught in his arms. "Alia, little brother, we meet again." But there were others to engage tho speaker's attention. Dropping the boy to the ground, ho dismounted and was soon warmly shaking all by tho hand. "Yer Mark Malone, I reckon,"said Farmer Slack, "though y' don't look Hire the common soier ez kem 'long liyar a year ago 'n changed yer ! uniform fo' our Heucry's storo clothes. " "Not Mark Malone?that was a fic [ titious name?but Mark Maynard. No. I'm not a private any longer. I command this brigade. And it's a splendid body of men. I'm proud of it." When Colonel Maynard camo to salute Souri, there was an unspeakable ' interest, sympathy, even tenderness, in i her expressive eyes. "Why, Souri, you're a woman. How ; you have improved!" A slight Hush on her cheek showed the pleasure the words gave her. I "Hain't I improved?" asked Jakey. "Improved? Certainly. Have you conquered your old habit of answering people with questions?" i "Did I lick Johnny? Oh, yes," sudI denly recollecting himself. "I purty nigh got over thet." "So I perceive," said tho colonel, smiling. "You're a perfect paragon at expressing yourself." / "Won't yer come in 'u set down?" I asked Mrs. Slack. "Not now. Iam going to meet my wife, whom I have not seen for nearly 1 a year. I expect to find her at her mothi er's plantation near Chattanooga. You [ remember how sho hid mo when my I neck was in a halter on that very plantation; how I camo north in disguiso with her; how I camo here one night, whcro I had left my horse and uniform, and dashed away to tho Union lines; how sho followed me, and wo wero married by a chaplain. Well, I've never seen her sinco a week after our marriage. Old Pap is famous for not allowing women in camp, and ho made no exception in Mrs. Maynard's caso except for 0110 week's honeymoon in recj ognition of service rendered tho cause." "And yer wifo's gouo back onter the plantation?" said Mrs. Slack. "Sho has. You see, in Juno a recruit entered our family quarters in thoshapo of a ten pounder boy. Beforo that happened Mrs. Maynard went through tho tho youngster is not old enough to report to his father since his enlistment, I suppose his father will liavo to report to him." "I reckon Mrs. Maynard'll bo right glad to seo you," remarked Souri feelingly. "I shall certainly bo right glad to seo I her. And that must account for my | leaving you so soon. I owo you all a groat deal in this household, and now J that our forces occupy tho country, if you require anything, let mo know it. ; What can I do for you?" There was silence for a few moments, which was broken by Mrs. Slack. "Waal, now, colonel, d'ye know I hain't had a cup o' coffco fo' nigh outer a year?" "You shall havo sonio as soon as I can reach my commissary. Anything ' else?" ! Souri frowned oven at tho request of her mother, and no 0110 named auy other I requirement. "Jakey," said tho colonel, "you haven't forgotten how, when I went through hero a year ago, I asked you to I go with mo on my way to Chattanooga to get information of tho movements of tho Confederate army?" ; "Hcv I forgot when I war yer aid-ercamp? Oh, no, 110, I hain't forgot." j "Well, I hadn't much inducement to offer you then unless tho sharing of a "7 thank you very much." prison may bo called an inducement., Now, if you will go along, I'll promise you tho best that Mrs. Maynard can provide at tho plantation. Will you go?" "Will I? Course I will. Paw, can I hev Tom?" "Sartin, boy," and tho farmer turned and went to the bam. "Won't you need a?a luncheon?" ! asked Souri, whose hesitation was an effort to avoid tho word "snack," the only namo she had known for a cold j bite before she went north to school. "Oh, no," said tho colouol. "We ! shall rido directly to tho plantation. ! We'll get plenty to eat when wo arrive." Meanwhile Jakey had followed his father to tho barn. Mrs. Slack stepped into tho houso to mako up a bundle for tho boy. Maynard and Souri sauntered aimlessly in tho yard. Presently they found themselves at tho wellhonse. Souri leaned over it and looked down into tho well. Thero was somothing sho wanted to say, but found it difficult. "I thank you very much for what you've done for me," sho said. "Why, Souri, what have I done for you compared with what you did for j nij?" | "Didn't you find mo a 'poor white' girl a year ago, and haven't yon sent me to school, with Jakey, and helped | mo to look into a world that would have been always closed to mo except for ; you?" "And wouldn't mv world liavo been entirely closed to mo except for you?" Souri was silent "Souri, when you speak to 1110 of obi ligation you remind mo how deeply 1 am obliged to you. When I was imprisI oned at Chattanooga, charged with be ing a spy, tried, convicted and about to bo hanged, you camo and effected my I escape. Why, child, were it not for you 1113* bones would this minute bo moldering in the jailyard at Chattanooga. " "But Mrs. Maynard, she"? Souri paused. She was bonding low over the side of tho wellhouse, her faco in the palms of her hands, her elbowu resting 011 tho board besido tho bucket, and looking down as though seeking for something in tho dark disk below. "She completed what you began," tho I colonel finished for her. "It was moro for her to do. 'Twasn't J noth?anything for mo. You uus?you I was Union, and so was I. Sho was Confederate. " There was a depth of feeling in Souri which threw her off her guard and made it difficult for her to adhere to her training in expressing herself. "Souri, 1 am indebted to two lovely women for every breath I draw. You opened my prison doors. Sho who is my wifo concealed mo when I was hunted for my life. Let us talk 110 more about it. The very mention of tho narrowness of my escape gives 1110 a choking senj sation about tho neck." Jakey camo trotting out of tho barn on Tom, tho rim of his felt hat flapping j up and down at each step. : Tho farmer followed, and Mrs. Slack ; camo out with Jakey's bundle. Then with a handshaking all around, and a j "God bless you, my little girl," from j Maynard to Souri, tho two started on their way, not on foot, as on their for! mer journey, but each with a good I mourn. TO IIK CONTINI'KI) NEXT WEEK. StaT" A schoolboy gave the following i paper as his reasons for being a total 1 abstainer: "I abstain from alcoholic j drinks because, if I would excel as a cricketer, Grace says 'abstain as a j walker, Weston says 'abstain as an I oarsman, Hanlou says 'abstain ,' as a swimmer, Webb says'abstain as an orator, Bright says 'abstainas a i missionary, Livingstone says 'abstain as a doctor, Clark says 'abstain as a preacher, Farrar says 'abstain. AsyI liims, prisons and workhouses repeat I'the cry'abstain.'" ! fta?" Mecca was visited last year by between 250,000 and 300,000 pilgrims, a much larger number than usual, as the principal day of the pilgrimage happened to fall on a Friday; 00,000 came by sea, of whom nearly 10,000 died of cholera, while of those who I went by land, most of them from British India, 15,000 perished. The moii tality was 10 per cent of all the pil! grims. #fca>" The oldest coin known is in the minst collections at Philadelphia. It was coined at .Kgina in the year 700 11. C. V | gtisrctlancous fading, j ONE .110ItK APPEAL. i j John T. llodilcy A^ain Urges Or- | gnntzntion. j SOMETHING MUST HE DOSE. I i Reduced Acreage is all Right in Its Way; J ; llut thu Rears Continue to I.nuglt at ; Anything Short of a Trust. To tho Farmers of the South and West: The necessity of formation and orI ganization?I have read several unfriendly criticisms in some Southern j journals as well as a weak attempt in a New York newspaper to frighten me hy saying, in proposing an organization of farmers into a company to protect their products, I am making myself liable to prosecution under law. As yet I have seen no plausible objection to my plan, the outlines of I which have been published throughj out the South. Unless something is done, (rod pity the Southern and I Western farmers. If the Southern I " - hi i ...i / 1 inrmers were weamiy aim not iurceu * to sell their cotton absolutely regardless of price, this step toward protecting themselves might not be necessary ; but they are poor, many receive advances before the crop is made, and must sell when their creditors say so ; hut in case of an organization which could prevent the flooding of the market with cotton, the professional bear could not take advantage of his poverty, and in some cases ignorance, and force him to sell, regardless of price. Does any intelligent individual believe that the professional bears would sell your coming crop on a basis of 4 3-4 cents for spots, before it is planted, if they supposed that the coming crop would be owned by wealthy, intelligent farmers? No, they depend upon your poverty, the necessity of your selling at any price, and the poorer you become the more easily can they control your crops; the longer you wait to organize the harder it will become. Look at your success against the jute trust. You simply made up your minds you wouldn't be imposed upon and you came out successfully. I tell you to-day that when a wealthy professional* bear operator will sell your crop ten times over for less than the j cost of production, that you are being imposed upon. He has the money and will use every means to drive down the market in order to buy.your crop for less than he has sold his futures. I believe, as the New York Tribune, which says: "The bear element in speculation has caused more distress, j bankruptcy and ruin than any adverse i conditions of the times. It is au cle roent that stops at nothing to make profits for itself. Every possible trick and device have been used to hammer down the price of cotton." If God blesses you with an abundant yield, you are as poor as ever. It does you 110 good financially; you have simply been allowed so much for your crop and now they see, on account of your poverty, they can cut down your allowauce, and though you may make the largest crop ever made, you will likely receive in value less for it than for any crop grown in the past ten years, and a sad prospect ahead for you when a bear will sell you September and October futures on a basis of 4 3-4 cents to the planter, and he expects, of course, to buy your cotton for less. After the Atlanta convention all the cotton future markets advanced i 3 of a cent rapidly, something it had not done in the past two years. Were 1 receipts falling off? No. Was the visible supply decreasing? No. It 1 was principally the future sellers wanting to get their cotton back; they thought you were going to do something and have been in constant dread 1 of such an organization. But what 1 has been the result? Several Southern 1 journals of influence have used their best efforts to defeat such organization. You have done nothing. The profes sionnl hears, encouraged by the fact that sotne of the leading Southern newspapers would oppose this organization, that the thousands of shrewd and calculating men who make their 1 living out of cotton, would use every ' argument possible against it, have 1 regained their courage and confidence and have driven the market as low practically as ever. Your conventions in regard to reducinging acreage and passing resolutions to reduce the use of fertilizers are scarcely noticed, have no effect on the future markets, and cause 110 anxiety among the hears; but a convention having for its object the absolute controlling of the price of cotton is what tfiey dread. Over production has not caused the depression in price. The supply of American cotton from September 1, 1800, to September 1, 1S94, has been 82,431,000 bales; the consumption for the same time 30,589,000 hales. The surplus at the beginning of this season, 1,5S9,000, a little more than a month's supply, and yet in the past four years we have grown the largest two crops in history. Eight million Southern farmers cannot overproduce for ten hundred million beings, the number they now produce j for, if these ten hundred millions arc properly clothed. You create over I half the wealth of the United States, j and yet do not own half the onetwentieth. Add 80 per cent, to the present price of cotton, and it will he ! no higher than a year ago, and yet the ! visible supply is scarcely anymore than then, hand, cotton, grain and cattle have declined in value, the property of the farmer; taxes, railroad rates, rents, professional services, etc., are unchanged. Why ? Because the farmer is forced to sell. I believe yours, unless something is done, three quarters of the lands of the South and West will he owned by capitalists and your , 1 children will he tenants. The former j landowners are going gradually out of j existence; if he has a successful crop j he makes nothing clear, and if an un- j successful one, he makes nothing. | j He now owns his land and has income : 1 1.:,. r.,? ti.nt , unit uin si^ic ui n> iu^ 1.-3 iai uuuvv mav of the peasant of Continental Europe; J but lie cannot continue this 25 years ! longer unless he wakes up, thinks and | acts. What proportion of Southern and Western farmers are in as good I I condition as they were 10 years ago, j considering the present value of land, i i By strict economy and hard labor the I majority have no more than lived. : Many have lost their farms and are j even now tenants. Land owners will j rent to tenants, who being obliged to i ' divide the produce with the landlord, j will always be in a state of poverty. [ j Being blessed with all tiic natural ad- 1 ! vantages, you should be the richest 1 people in the world. No cotton or ! grain man will deny that future options established the price for spots, i For every thousand bales of spot cotton sold in New York there are proba- ' bly 1,000,000 bales of futures traded in. The operations in imaginary cotton are so great that the price of real cot- ! | ton is fixed as being a comparatively j i trifling incident. i The supply and demand for futures > fix your price. There are three kinds i of exchanges in futures on products? , cotton, grain and coffee : the two form- , cr handle the products of the American farmer and these products are exported la rgely ; coffee is imported, j The crop of eoffee is estimated at twelve and a half million bags and the consumption is 10,000,000 bags ; yet a barrel of flour of 200 pounds can be bought for $0, whereas a bag of coffee of the same weight brings five or six times as much. The American farmer is forced to sell ; the coffee producers will not be ; yet there is no more overproduction in cotton and grain than in coffee. Is it strange that our country is in such a condition when our exports arc so depressed and imports as dear as ever ? Why is gold being exported? Simply a scheme to force the government to pay New York bankers 3$ per cent, for money; though for months money has been loaned at 2 per cent, per nnnum, and money on call at 1 per cent per annum. Under existing conditions the government is forced, and under existing conditions you are forced. You have practically no competition in raising cotton, and yet you allow a price to be dictated to you at which you can no more than barely live. Thirty-three years ago you furnished 42 per cent, of the cotton of the world. Now you furninti 78 nf?r cent, of it. Tlrcre has been practically no competition at any time except East India, and the waste working in India is 18 per cent, while American cotton not only makes better goods, but the waste working is only 10 per cent. Egypt is not a competitor, as its staple is altogether ditFerent ami is used for goods thai American cotton cannot be used for to advantage. For 30 years they have made every endeavor in its cultivation and 1,000,000 is its largest crop. Russia is still in an experimental stage. I wish to say that in case any organization is perfected, I do not care for any olFice or position, nor to make any money out of it, as some South Carolina journals have so kindly suggested. I have Southern interests, Southern friends and boyhood companions, and I tell you as a brother, as one Southerner to another, as an honest man to honest men, that you are being systematically wrecked, and that at no very distant day you may be in a condition where you cannot organize. And now, in conclusion, if the farmers can so arrange as to make cotton the means of exchange?exchange a certain number of pounds of cotton for a certain number of pounds of flour, sugar, etc., or so many pairs of standard shoes, or so many pounds of fertilizers, iu short for necessities?and let the balance of their cotton be a surplus which they can dispose of for cash whenever they choose, this surplus will bring 8 to 10 cents, as they cannot be forced to sell it; but if you sell your cotton regardless of price, when you have practically no competition, you can never hope for a belter condition. Respectfully yours, Jn*o. T. Roddey. 80 Broadway, N. Y. Will all Southern newspapers interested in the welfare of the South please copy ? NEW CURE FOR CONSUMPTION. At a recent meeting of the St. Louis Medical society, says The Republic, Dr. Paul Paquin, of that city read a paper descriptive of cures of consumption effected by him and his associates by methods similar to those employed in the cure of diptberia by the blood serum process. The paper was one in which the physicians present at the meeting manifested an absorbing interest, and in view of the immense benefits which will accrue to humanity should the theories advanced in it prove to be correct, the general public will be interested in no less degree. For two or three months Dr. Paquin has conducted a series of experiments, resulting in discoveries which were given to the profession Saturday night. The doctor first began the serious study of tuberculosis in 1888 at the University of Missouri, where excellent opportunities for observation were open to liira. To use his own language, he soon "became convinced that the equine species is, to a certain degree, naturally immune to this disease, the ass being probably less susceptible, possibly, than the horse, though this is by no means certain." Later on he formed the conclusion that the chief and direct basis of immunity was lodged in the blood. Dr. Paquin pursued his investigations step by step until he discovered methods by which the blood of horses could be made to yield the desired MM UIU \\ 1 IIIU11L UIIAIIUC Ull.il vmer elements. This was a work of some difficulty, and the experiments made in the laboratory and in the field will he the subject of a subsequent paper, in which the processes adopted for making the serum will be described in detail. For the present, Dr. Paquin contents himself by saying that about three months ago his investigations reached a point at which it was possible to make tests of the correctness of his theories. Horses had been purchased, care was taken to establish the fact that they were absolutely free from disease, blood was taken and from it the serum was extracted. In making the diptheria and anti-toxin the horse must be specially immunized by inoculation with the poison of the disease. When the poison which is the basis of diptheria is injected into the horse, there develops in the animal a chemical combination of the blood, which counteracts the effects of the poison, and when this chemical combination is formed the horse is said to be "immunized against diptheria." With tuberculosis no such special process is necessary, it appearing that the horse is naturally immune. Dr. Paquin says, however, that when the germs arc injected, the serum becomes stronger and possesses greater curative power. Speaking of the trials made of the new remedy, Dr. Paquin says . "The results obtained in treating consumptives in the first and second stages and in the beginning of the third stage, indicates that serotherapy will eventually master this dreadful plague. Indeed, T dared not hope for such universal improvements as were obtained. While in advanced consumption with cavities, or other serious lesions, I have not yet arrived at a point where I can make reliable deductions, a large percentage of the cases increased in weight from "> to 20 pounds in from six to eight weeks. without the use of tonics and without specially nourishing diet." General Lee's Surrender.?General Horace Porter, of the United States army, recently delivered a lecture in New York, the title of which was "Appomattox." As a witness of the surrender, he was able to give all the details, many of which arc not generally known. On the platform from which General Porter spoke were chairs and tables arranged in the same positions as those were in the McLean House at Appomattox at the time of the surrender. General Lee, he said, was dressed in regular Confederate uniform, and the handle of his sword was studded with jewels. Grant had 011 an old faded blue blouse and private's trousers. He wore no swoard, as he had thrown it in a wagon a few days before. General Porter had a souvenir of the event, which he showed. It was a pencil with which General Lee had written the acceptance of Grant's terms of surrender. He also had a large Hag, with several bullet holes in it, which had floated over General Grant's headquarters during the entire war. In closing, General Porter spoke of Grant's first words after Lee had left them after the surrender. Grant's oflioers were' wondering what would he the first words said by the man who had just gone through "one of the greatest events of his life, and were surprised when he looked up and said to one of his stall': "Do you remeinbeV that old white mule we used to ride in Mexico?" AMERICA S RICHEST MAN. The Dally Round of Dutlex of .John I). Rockefeller. What does the richest man in this country do in a day ? John I). Rockefeller, the Standard Oil King, is the man. His fortune has now reached the gigantic figure of $14"),000,000. Before the end of the year it will have reached the terrific sum of $l.r)0,000,000. People who claim to know say that hi3 wealth is growing at the rate of $1">,000,000 a year. He is not an extravagant man ; his family are even more (KaU 4?*.? ii? i J iquucsi/ in men uisich man lie is, auu that he does not spend one-twentieth of his annual income is generally believed by his friends. Mr. Rockefeller's income is unquestionably somewhere in the neighborhood of $15,000,000 a year. The Standard Oil company pays immense profits to its owners, and Mr. Rockefeller is the principal owner. Based upon an annual income of $15,000,000 a year, the Oil King has $1,250,000 a month to spend, or $41,666 every day in the week, including Sundays and holidays. It is not without the pale of possibility that Mr. itockefeller will live to see his daily income reach the $100,000 figure. Thirty-five years ago he was worth $2,000. In that time, practically starting on nothing, he has made $145,000,000. He is 55 years old, vigorous and healthy, and in all probability will live 20 years more, in which time it would not be unreasonable to suppose that he could double his enormous wealth. HIS ROUND OF DUTIES. Mr. Rockefeller's day is a plain, matter-of-fact one. He spends it much the same as a man working on a salary and with a family to support. There is no show or ostentation about what he does. Few people in the financial or business world know him even by sight. Not one out of 50 of the employes of the Standard Oil company, in its offices on lower Broadway, have ever spoken a word to him. Many of them would not know him if they saw him. He is methodical in everything. He gets up at 7 in the morning and breakfasts with his wife and two daughters, Alta and Edith, and his sou John D., Jr., at 8 o'clock. At 9 o'clock he starts for his downtown office. The Rockefeller home is on the south side of Fifty-fourth street, just west of "Fifth avenue, and overlooks the park fronting St. Luke's hospital on the opposite side of the street. The house is a big, substantial brown stone affair, of no particular kind of architecture. It is built on the lines of solid comfort, with a wide entrauce in the middle and with large rooms opening on the central hall. It has a minature park around it, a very exceptional thing in that parti of the city, where ground is worth $4,000 a front foot. When he leaves his house at 9 in the morning, if the day is fine, he walks toward Fifth avenue. Very often he starts uptown in the direction of Central Park. Sometimes he is accompanied by one or both of his daughters and sometimes by his son, a young man of 22 years, who is now learning the ropes of the oil company. Mr. Rockefeller is a great believer in the efficacy of walking and all kinds of exercise as health givers, and he has taught all the members of his family to believe the some. After a three or four-mile tramp in the park he turns back to Fifth avenue and often walks dawn to, Tvwpj?ty-Vhird, street, where he takes a Broadway car to his offices. Frequently he walks all the way down to the office, a distance of four and a half miles from his home. On these tramps he is sometimes accompanied by his son or by his brother, William Rockefeller, who is also one of the Standard Oil princes. Arrivingat the building of the Standard Oil comnanv. which overlooks the historic Bowling Green, Mr. Rockefeller goes at once to his suite of private offices. There he is met by his two private secretaries. One of these attends to that part of his business relating to the Standard Oil company, while the other attends to his personal business interests. HIS BUSINESS METHODS. Hundreds of letters addressed to the rich man are received every day ; but he does not see one out of 20 of them. The secretaries, under secretaries, stenographers, typewriters and clerks take care of the others. It is tho same with people who call with the intention of seeing the oil king. Many of these callers have rehearsed in their minds what they would say and how they would act to favorably impress the millionaire, only to be met by the polite, but firm secretary, who, in a very few words, turns the caller homeward, a disappointed man. The chiefs of the various departments make condensed reports for the daily reading of Mr. Rockefeller, and the reading of these occupy nearly the entire morning. There are less than half a dozen of men in the army of people employed by the concern who have access to Mr. Rockefeller's personal sanctum. These men include Henry M. Flagler, the representative of the Charles Pratt interest in the company; William C. Whitney, as the representative of the . ur:ii: t> i.Ar..ilon i uy iit: IUIIIII) , ?<uiiaiii iiuuKcicnci , his brother, nod one or two others. A large percentage of the callers nre men and women, who, hnving read of the philanthropy of the man who endowed a single educational institution iu Chicago with $2,000,000, think it will he nn easy matter to induce him to turn some of the golden stream in their direction. But it is just here that the personal private secretary of Mr. Rockefeller comes in. This gentleman devotes nearly all of His tune to the philanthropic \^gj^?|r-hjs employer. How much money the latter gives away in a year can only be conjectured. His charities are conducted on the same retiring, unostentatious plan that characterizes his whole life. Xo one outside of his secretary and himself knows what he gives away. HIS GENEROSITY. The generosity and the desire to escape notoriety of Mr. Rockefeller is a little incident which happened four vears aco at Christmas time well ill us trates. "The Rockefellers are the maiu support of Dr. MacArthur's Baptist church in West Fifty-seventh street. Some years ago Dr. MacArthur had a mission scheme in view which would cost a considerable sum to put in operation on the lines mapped out. He mentioned the matter to Mr. Rockefeller. Mr. Rockefeller had the project investigated, and it seemed feasible as an agency for accomplishing much i good, lie said nothing more about the matter until the arrival of Christmas day. Then he called at the parsonage of the church. After wishing Dr. MacArthur the compliments of the season, he broached the subject of Ihe mission. He said that he was satisj lied as to its utility, and was prepared | to make a subscription if the pastor j would promise not to say one word i about it to any one. The promise ! was given, and Mr. Rockefeller placed I in the hands of Dr. MacArthur a check I for $100,000. Ths promise was kept; | but it became necessary in time for j the officers of the church to know of the donation. Then some of the wives | of the officers heard of it. It was not j a great while before many of the peoI pie in the church knew of the oil i king's gigantic subscription; but it was months before the outside world i got wind of it. Mr. Rockefeller is not | an indiscriminate philanthropist. All j his charities tend in the direction of | religion or education. Inconsequence, I not one out of 50 of the callers at his / t ! office have their wishes gratified. Mr. | ! Rockefeller always lunches in his of- i j lice, and spends his afternoons until ; | 4 o'clock going over reports and dicta> ting instructions. At 4 o'clock he ! starts up-town, usually walking all the I way home. If the weather is stormy ; he goes home in his hroughman, which | invariably meets him on inclement ! days. He dines plainly at G o'clock, i and seldom goes out in the evening ! unless it is to attend some important church meeting. He goes very little i iuto society, and is very rarely seen at the theatre or opera. Mrs. Rockefeller and the two daughters care as little for society and the pleasures of the play as Mr. Rockefeller. Most of their time is spent at home. Thus the | well mural; uiuiviuuui mumy in tue lands leads the quietest and most prosaic of lives.?New York correspondence of The Globe-Democrat. STOWAWAYS. How VentureHome Youths Stent Hides Aboard Sea-Going Crafts. Slipping in below decks where longshoremen, stevedores and expressmen are passing in and out in u continual stream, oilers the only possible chance of stealing a ride aboard an ocean steamer. And this is the method of the stowaway. He mingles in with a crowd of stevedores, perhaps even hires himself. Then about two hours before the vessel starts, he disappears from view. But now comes the difficulty. Where shall he hide? On shipboard everything is done just right. Every square foot of the ship is patrolled by some one previously appointed. He cannot hide in the hole, for, aside from the pangs of hunger and thirst, he would probably be smothered to death. To go above decks is out of the question, , and there is only one place left; the stoke hole. It would probably be impossible to find a more undersirable berth than the stoke hole of an ocean steamer. Down in the depths of the vessel, cut { off' frnm till siurorestion of davlicrht. sur- I "" "" "? on ? / --n ? / rounded by huge, seething boilers, the stoker himself can stand the intense heat only a few minutes at a time. Every object stands out in a relief so weird as to seem almost infernal, making it a hideous retreat even for a few hours. It is, however, the usual rendezvous of the stowaway. Sometimes, on account of the heat or a miscalculation, he comes out before the vessel has left the pilot boat, in which case the stowaway is sent back and the pilot has him arrested. In England a boy can be sent to jail six months for stealing a ride. Usually, however, they manage to hold out until the vessel is well away to sea before they make themselves known. As soon as he emerges, a woeful specimen, his face black with coaldust, the stowaway is handed over to the first mate, who in turn, presents hira to the ship's commander, and only those who have seen a wrothy sea captain, can appreciate the position of a boy court-martialed before him. After being raked fore and aft by this dignitary, the stowaway is put to work. The nature of his employment depends upon the qualifications of the boy. A common job assigned them is that of "spudding"?paring potatoes?for the cooks. Or he may be put to mopping the decks. If he is prepossessing in appearance the stewards will likely let them help at the table, where he can often make a neat sum on "tips." When the ship gets to port, if in sailor parlance, "he has made it all right" with some of the crew, they will represent him as indispensable, and he can either remain on board or go ashore free to do as he likes. Should the captain be rigidly strict, however, he will have the boy locked up aud deliver him to the authorities when the ship returns. The great majority of stowaways are found on the English-American liners. New York, Liverpool and Southampton are their prime shipping stations. Germany also contributes a goodly number; but France few. A great many of the English and German boys are from the working classes, and penniless. They want to come to America to make their fortune, and resort to this as the only way to get here. On the other hand, there are a great number who, seeing the big ships coming in from foreign lands every day, are caught with a desire to try conclusions with the world. The American boys are, as a rule, simply restless. They want to see the world, and they generally manage to do it. Regular seamen on the foreign lines are all recruited from the royal naval reserves ot their respective countries, and are trained men; and notwithstanding the fact that stowaways sometimes make the most proficient sailors, they command very little respect from these automatons. A fellow so utter/lAoiihi^a r\f oil slicninlinn otul rlinrni. ly ucaututo w. h... ty as to hide himself in a stoke hole, in their opinion, is hardly worth talking about. Yet they are sometimes forced to acknowledge that stowaways have grit, a quality which seldom fails to stir admiration. "Not long ago," said an old tar on one of the British liners, "we had as likely a pair of Yankee stowaways as ever I see. Sartainly they had good stuff iu them. 'Twasn't mor'n two hours after we had cut loose from the pilot when all hands were mustered on deck, the passengers peerin' 'round like landlubbers always does, when up comes the chief stoke wid two boys. You couldn't no more tell what they looked like than you could chew a raarlinspike, for their faces were as black as that stack amidships, but the one was tall and the other short, and they was "-fcoth clean limbed, sartinly. ".As soon as the old man see them, by'gets mad and asks them to tell ^fabout themselves. But they wa'n't a particle scared. Tall one says they had intended taking a little trip for sometime, and thought this was as good as any.' The captain was bilin,' and ordered 'em to be locked up. The passengers collected quite a bit to pay their passage over, but the captain wouldn't have it. Said he'd set an example and have 'em arrested. "They didn't mind bein' locked up at all. Leastwise they 'peered to be havin' a jolly good time all day. The tall one would be playing a mouth organ and the short one singing along. We hove in sight of Liverpool docks at 5 o'clock in the morning, and the first officer went down to bring 'em up. But they wasn't there, and the lock was filed through clean as a whistle. Just as the ofliccrgot on deck there was two splashes on the starboard side. Everybody crowded over and it was the stowaways, pullin' for the docks as fast a stroke, certainly, as ever I see. The first oflicer wanted to man a boat, but the captain said for 'to let them go; he wasn't carin' whether they sunk or not.' But they didn't sink. Leastwise when me and the bo'sn was strollin' on the strand next day, we see them sellin' papers same as if they'd growed there. j THE NEW TESTAMENT MANUSCRIPTS. The New Testament, as we now know it, comes down to us after having been kept for hundreds of years in manuscript form by the priests, "fathers of the church," and others. The writings have been copied and recopicd probably scores of times?at least as often as occasion required, being alj ways renewed before becoming unintel! ligible by use and wear. The two old| est of these manuscripts now known '' are the Codex Seniaticus and the Codex Xaticanus, each of which date j from the Fourth Century, A. 1). The languages originally used in this work were Hebrew and Greek, but after the year 300 A. I)., the manuscripts were all, or nearly all, written in Latin. The last mentioned language was that adopted by the Roman church in their translations, and was known as the "Vulgate," because commonly used in the churches. As far back its the Seventh century, portions of the Vulgate were translated into old English, and it was also the version used by Wicklifle (Wyclife,) Purvey and their predecessors, and was the first book printed from movable type, 1454-55. Tyndale's version was from a German translation of the original Greek, made by Martin Luther. "The "authorized version" of King James' translation, was made by 47 of the most eminent British scholars, and was finished in the year 1611. The Latin Vulgate was the main version used by them ; but, so far as they they were accessible, other manu scripts; uotn mine ureeK una Jieorew, were consulted and compared. The manuscripts of the Old Testament have had similar experiences, having been written and rewritten thousands of times siuce the first collection was put in writing by the priests and leaders of the Israelites, about the year 1500 B. C. All of the older copies having, of course, been worn out or lost ever since long before the birth of Christ, the oldest copies in manuscript form now in existence, so far as is known, dating from the year 500 A. D. AN ARAPAHOE'S MEAL. Tlie Indian'* Appetite Held out rift Long as the .Went Lasted. For feats of dowright big eating I'll back the North American Indian against the world, said a Colorado man. I recall in particular an Arapahoe Indian who visited our camp by the Fontaine qui Bouille river one night. We had killed a buffalo calf on that day?a good sized, fat calf, fnnr nr Pivp mnnths nld?nnd havinc skinned and dressed the carcass, had hung it up on a wagon pole. We had carved enough off one shoulder to go along with mountain trout, bacon, bread and coffee for our party of four at supper; the rest of the meat was all there. The Indian came riding up after we had eaten and he looked pretty tired and empty. He had evidently traveled a long way with little to eat, for he wus dusty, haggard and thin as a shoestring, and there was no doubt when he asked by signs for food that he wanted it badly. We pointed to the buffalo calf, and with his knife he cut ofT some slices of meat, laid them on the embers, and as soon as they were a little scorched, ate them ravenously and began again with the calf. He was still cutting and cooking meat and eating when we went ofT to sleep, and so fur as we could tell, he spent the entire night in that occupation, for whenever one or auother of us woke up enough to look around, the Indian was either cutting at the calf or eating by the lire. When we turned out in the morning we found that all that was left of that buffalo calf was its skeleton hanging from the pole. The Indian had not carved away its joints and ribs as a white mau would have done, but hacked the meat off in small pieces till all was gone. The Indian looked like another person. His all-night feed had fattened him up so that he looked well filled out, and he moved about with a different air. He greeted our rising with a "How," and sat stolidly hy the lire until one of us gave him a tiu cup of coffee, which he took with another "How." While we were at breakfast he mounted his horse and slipped away so silently that we scarcely noticed his going. MET A BAD MAN. Au Army OftlcerV Experience in the StAte of Texas. "Only on one occasion in my life have I felt the need of a weapou," said an army oflicer of the United States army to a Washington Star writer. "I have never carried a gun ; but it has sometimes occurred to me that no man ought ever be without one. One cannot be sure but that sometime the weapon would save one's life. For instance, I will recite to you a little experience of my own. It was in a wild mountain region of Texas. I was riding along a lonely path, mounted on a government mule. Not a tiling did 1 nave on my person wmcu could have been regarded by the most impoverished citizen as of value. Whistling as I went, I approached a large rock about which the path ran to avoid a sharp asceut. Just as I reached it a iierce-looking man rose out of the bushes and cried : 'Halt!' "What could I do? Perhaps you will say that I ought to have charged upon him with my government mule, overpowered him, taken away his arms, and demanded why he should thus obstruct what was the best substitute available for a public highway. I did nothing of the kind. The only reason I can allege is that I was afraid. Such a method of dealing with highwaymen does well enough in storybooks; but in real life it is dangerous. Accordingly, I obeyed the suggestion of the bold bandit and halted. For a moment my heart jumped into my throat as I saw him thrust a hand into his hip pocket. He drew something and pointed it at me point blank. I perceived that the something was not a pistol; it was a bottle?a large, black bottle. Said the highwayman : " 'Drink ! "I held out my hand and grasped the bottle with more than ordinary eagerness. I drank. It was the worst whisky I have ever tasted; and that is saying a good deal, for I have lived in the West for a number of years. But to me at that moment it was a grateful draught. I handed the bottle back to the highwaymen, and, as he went his way with a benevolent smile upon his countenance, I resumed, with a thankful heart, my journey upon my government mule. I had meant to oiler him that mule, but would hardly have had the nerve, perhaps, for he might have regarded the proffer of such an obviously valueless gift as an insult." OS" The latest electrical girl to be - v ^ c - heard from Jives near .^euana, iuu. One of her many alleged wonderful powers is that of illuminating a room by her presence. This she can do? or not do, just as she chooses. The most marvellous thing, however, about the feat is that human eyes have not yet been able to see where the light comes from. On entering a dark room, it is at once as light as day, if she wills, but when she goes out the light is extinguished. When produciug the phenomena nobody dares touch her, on penalty of death. She seems to be charged with all the electrical bolts of a live wire, The personal atmosphere that surrounds hor at such times repeals, and thus has saved many from injury. So, at least the stories run in local papers. SSF Living in a log cabin close to White Hall, the home of (Jeneral Cassias Mnrcellus Clay, is the oldest woman in Kentucky, who is known all over Fayette and Madison counties as "Old Aunt tlannah White." She is a Negro woman and in the best of j health, doing her own house work, at I the advanced age of 118 years. Aunt Hannah is the mother of 14 children, and has 124 grand and great-grandchildren. She was one of the lirst slaves in Kentucky, having been sold at auction four times. Her youngest son, now an old man, resides with her.