"" ' ISSUED SBBn-VEESL^
l. it.oeist & SONS, Publishers, j % (Jfamitg fRurspijer: 4or the jgrcatotion of (he political, Social, g^ritaHunil, and ^snintti;tial gntgrqals of the feogle- {TERM981No$1^0coprYn^E'cEAOTVsA'<(!E'
~ ESTABLISHED 1855. YQRKVILLE, 8. C., SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1902. 3STO. 90.
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Com/right, 1901, by Charles B. EOwrim
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Synopsis.?Prince Neslerov wants to
marry Frances Gordon, the charming
daughter of an American who is building
the Transsiberian railroad. Frances
is interested in the fortunes of Vladimir
Paulpoflf, a stalwart Russian blacksmith.
She asks Neslerov to use his influence
for Vladimir. Neslerov goes to
Vladimir's hut. The blacksmith has
talent and shows Neslerov a picture he
has painted. It is the portrait of a woman
of rank copied from a miniature.
The prince is excited and asks for the
original. Vladimir's father says it has
ben lost. To Vladimer old Paulpoff
confesses that he lied to Neslerov and
still has the miniature. Neslerov has
the Paulpoffs sent to Siberia as nihilists.
Frances Gordon goes to the forge
with books for Vladimar. At the door
of the lonely hut she encounters Neslerov.
The prince presses his suit violently.
and Frances stuns him with a
pistol shot in the head. Gordon wishes
his daughter to marry Jack Denton, an
American bridge engineer. Frances demands
that her father intercede with
the governor for Vladimir. They start
. for Obi. Neslerov boards the same
train, which breaks in two, and Neslerov
has Frances alone in his power.
Neslerov drags Frances before a priest
and bids him to perform a marriage
ceremony. Jack- Denton comes to the
rescue. Neslerov is beaten off. Denton
nearly kills Neslerov in a duel. Jack
promises Frances to save the blacksmith.
CHAPTER IX.
DENTON TURNS LOCOMOTIVE ENGINEER.
DENTON presented aikunruffled
front.
"Take me to the governor,"
he said.
"The governor Is resting," growled a
fellow whose face was a mass of greasy
hair. "You will kill him."
"Nonsense! Take me to the governor.
If you kill me, he will die." ,
"Why Is that, builder of bridges? Is
there a god who avenges the death of ,
Americans?" ,
"It will need no god to do that now.
The case is simply that Neslerov needs
better care than you can give him. He
is badly injured. It is necessary that
ne suan oe tuKeu 10 xuluss. ul um:e. x
cau start within the hour. There will
not be another train to the Obi In four
days. Do you desire to keep your precious
governor here and have him die
on your bauds?"
"No. Let us see what the governor
has to say."
It was a solemn crowd that marched
in two columns, with Denton between,
to the hut of the village priest, where
Neslerov lay.
"Why do you bring him here?" asked
the priest. "Heard you not what his
excellency said?"
"Hold your peace. Wait till you hear
them speak together," was the reply.
NesleroV looked up at his conqueror,
and an expression of hatred came Into
his eyes. Denton made no show of sen- ,
tlment or compassion.
"I understand you commanded these
villagers to kill me," he said, standing
at the side of the bed and looking coldly
and sternly at his victim. "I just
wanted to say before they kill me?
which they certainly will do if you in !*?*
I*-* tlmt urton mil trnnlH nt'ah.
D1?>L 111UI Hi lilill V HOC JVU ?1 VUIU pivu
^bly die here for lack of proper care."
"You cannot help me ? you would
not," answered Neslerov.
"That is for you to say. 1 am not a
murderer. I had no desire to kill you.
You attacked me, and I defended myself.
1 am going back to Tomsk, provided
your savage villagers don't kill
me. and I merely came to ask If you
would be pleased to go."
"How?" he asked.
"In the same car you came thus far
in."
"But how? There is no train due for
days."
"I will take you to Tomsk if you
promise never again to molest Mr.
Gordon or his daughter."
"I promise," said Neslerov. "I will
order the villagers to permit you to
go."
Denton then went to the car and examined
It. He discovered where a
flaw in the iron had weakened the
couplings.
He was followed at a short distance
by several young men. among whom
was the boy who had run to tell him
that a woman was being roughly
handled by Neslerov, and who had
taken his horse to shelter. He ordered
the boy to bring the horse. Mounting,
he was soon out of sight. He did not
go far, however. He rode along the
track until he reached a siding a short
distance from the bridge, where there
was an old construction engine.
Deuton examined the old hulk. It
was lit only for drawing one or two
cars. Denton carried water from the
river and filled the boiler and built a
fire of wood.
Soon after the villagers were surprised
to see a wheezy, rickety old engine
coming slowly, with a prodigious
noise, into view. Denton's horse had
no difficulty In keeping up with it.
The old engine was coupled to the
car, and then Denton went for
Frances.
"The train is ready," he said.
"The train! What train?"
"The train tliat is to carry you to the
Obi, where you will join your father."
"But there is no train!"
' 'I'lw.ro i? n train and ns the steam
Is up and the track clear 1 suggest
haste. Your father Is probably anxious."
She went with him. At the sight of
the engine she understood.
"You are a wonderful?you are doing
this for me!" she said.
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f Ashley Town? ??
^ * I&&
"Tes, but Neslerov will be a passenger."
"And you?"
"Engineer, conductor, guard?all."
He took her to the car and made her
comfortable.
Neslerov was carried to the car by
the villagers. The backs of two seats
were turned down, a bed was made for
him, and he lay there quiet and seemingly
content.
"Of course, I know that you are seriously
wounded," said Denton to him,
"and the possibility of your doing any
mischief is small, but 1 want to tell
you before we start that if I catch you
at any tricks I will kill you as I would
a dog."
Neslerov nodded, and Denton went
on the engine.
It was an exciting start, though the
audience was small. The villagers
stared, then laughed as the little old
engine puffed and screeched and scraped
as it got under way.
But it bad a man in charge of It who
was accustomed to overcoming difficulties.
And the way he made it groan
and work would have made glad the
heart of the man who had abandoned
It UU tue MU1LI? MA IUUUIU9 UC1V1C.
In the ear was silence. Neslerov
was too weak to talk; Frances would
not talk to him If he wished. She remained
at her end of the car, save to
go in mercy to him and offer him water
at intervals. At such times he
would look up at her with an earnest.
Inscrutable expression on his face. She
would not speak, nor he.
Suddenly at a siding toward which
lie had been aiming Denton turned the
engine to the right and brought the little
traiu to a standstill. They bad been
ou the road sixteen hours and had traveled
210 miles.
Frances and Neslerov both looked up
as the traiu stopped and saw the grimy
engineer enter the car.
"There is a village near here," he
said, "and Just beyond this siding there
is a small signal box. 1 have just vist4sv.rl
t4 ??-?-1 l?Ar.?\ la a troln aaminer thifl
way from Tomsk. Undoubtedly, as
there is 110 regular train due, this Is a
searching party out after Frances Gordon.
Now. I have no wish to start an
international controversy. What story
shall we tell?"
"Tell the truth," said Frances. "It
does not. as a rule, barm any person
who is innocent."
"No," said Neslerov; "not as a rule.
But we are in a part of the world
where customs are different from yourt.
If you tell the truth, you will never
make the world believe you. But you
Ml a .... , f nnnnnf foil TTOtl "
Will 11UI UIIUt*I SI iliJU? 1 v;auuuv wvti j vim
"I know what you mean," Bald Frances
scornfully. "You mean that your
reputation is so bad that if it were
known that you bad that car left behind
to compel me to marry you everybody
will be sure I am your wife. Is
that It?"
"Yes; something like that."
"But. then, there Is my word," said
Denton.
"Your story will be believed by your
people, my story by mine," said Neslerov.
"Let u<? each tell what we please.
I do not care."
Denton nodded and went back to his
engine. But he did not start The
A t the sight of the engine she understood.
whistle of a speeding locomotive was
borne to him by the breeze. It came?
one engine and a car, the same as that
he was on, but a modern locomotive of
American make. Gordou was in the
car with some officials from Tomsk.
"Hey! That you, Denton?" lie gasped
as the grimy bridgebullder stepped
into the car, which was stopped at the
side of the construction engine. "My
girl and the governor of Tomsk got
left behind in a car. Seen"?
"I'm all right," said "Frances as she
emerged from her car and flew to her
father's arms.
"Did Denton save you? What was
it? Where Is Neslerov?" asked Gordon.
"Oh. he is in there," said Frances
coolly. "We've had a lively experience.
I thought at one time we'd be killed by
some savages. Rut Mr. Denton and the
prince?oh, let's get on; I'm tired out
and hungry."
Denton heard and wondered.
In every new experience he had had
with Frances Gordon he had been made
more and more astonished by the uncertain
moods, the whims, the strange
turns her caprice would take.
"Hitch on to this train and haul her
back to the Obi," said Denton. "If the
road doesn't want this engine, I can
use It at the Obi bridge."
This attachment was soon made, and
Mr. Gordon, after visiting the prince
' and congratulating him upon his escape
from the savages, assisted in
transferring to him some of the comforts
to be found in the other car. The
Russian officials swarmed around him
and praised his courage.
"And that American! He. is a brave
one too!" they said.
"Yes; he Is brave?braver than I,"
said Neslerov weakly.
The train started back toward
Tomsk. It had about ninety miles to
go to reach the Obi. During the Journey
Denton and Frances found themselves
side by side In the rear car,
with no one near enough to near tneir
low spoken tones.
"I cannot understand you," said
Denton. "You first said tell the truth,
then you yourself told the first deliberate
He. Why?"
Frances looked at him coolly.
"Because I thought It over. There
was a good deal In what Neslerov said.
Then, again, you and my father have
work to do, a career to make, money
to earn, and with the enmity of Neslerov
you would be ruined. I studied
It well. It ts better as I said it Let
It pass."
"Here we are at Vashlov," he said.
"For the time being you are home
again."
"Yes," she replied, with the slightest
tremor in her voice. "Thanks to you,
I am home again?In my temporary
home."
TO BE CONTINUED.
pisccUanrous jKfadimj.
WHERE COMFORTS ARE CHEAP.
More Real Wealth Sonth Than Eluewhere.
'
"If there's one place on this continent
where a poor man may feel like
a grandee, it's down south," said the
man who has just brought his family
home from a long stay in the Santee
region of South Carolina. "Bless me,
if the cost of living down there and the
way money can be spun out does not
set one's ideas of value topsy-turvy!
"I went down to nurse up an ailing
axe-handle and wooden-ware factory.
And from the day we set up housekeeping
my wife never ceased to be interested
and delighted at the small cost
of things.
" 'Would you believe it, the regulation
wages for a cook in this town are
$3.50 a month!" she told me over our
first meal. 'Of course, the cook has
quarters furnished her to live in out
over the kitchen. And I understand
that she can be counted on to steal
more or less regularly from the kitchen
supplies. But she knows how to
cook and how to be civil-spoken, and
she's obliging. All for that money!'
" 'I thought to be sure, when she
first said she would work for $3.50, that
she meant that sum by the week and
not the month. One can have a whole
retinue of servants here, cook, laundress,
nurse girl and house boy for leas
than it costs to pay one woman-of-allwork
up north.'
"Another time it would be the cost of
fuel that excited my wife.
" 'A whole wagon load of wood?
good, solid oak wood?for $1.50, Edward,'
she would say. 'And a big, twohorse
wagonful, at that. You should
have seen the old uncle who brought it.
He assured me that he had picked it all
out 'partic'lar.' And the wood sawyer
who goes around from house to house
with his hand saw, will saw and split it
all up in fireplace lengths for 50 cents.
It seems like a fairy tale.'
"The first week of our southern
housekeeping brought out many surprises.
The washing, laundering, was
not to be paid for by the dozen, nor
even the choicest pieces. The smiling,
wide-waisted black auntie who called
to solicit the post of washer had never
heard of taking in washing by the
dozen.
" 'I ain't gwine ter charge no more
than what's right,' she said as preliminary
to business. 'You jist pick up all
de clothes what's soil* for me on a Monday,
honey. All de house tings and
bed things an' body clothes, not scusin'
de shirts. I'se a proud hand wid gentlemen's
tings. An' I'll come git 'em
and fotch 'em back ebery Saturday afternoon,
clean an' clear starch. If you
ain' got no fault to find you kin pay
me $4 a month for your family business.
I'll be saterfy.'
"This wash lady, who balanced her
big wash basket on her head as though
it was an airy headdress, became a
stanch retainer of the family. The
mistress having once or twice given her
a remedy for rheumatism, she vowed
eternal fealty, declaring to me that
Miss Louisa understood her insistence'?she
meant her system?better
than anybody she had ever worked for.
" 'Just fancy, Ed, what I got that
great front piazza and steps scoured
for today,' my wife asked, to challenge
curiosity. 'You know the piazza goes
around both ends of the house and
there's two sets of steps to clean. Well,
one single quarter was all the woman
asked to scour it. I feel as if I had
been at a bargain counter and brought
off a great prize without having had to
wait interminably to get hold of it.'
"In other than purely domestic matters
a fascinating cheapness ruled. If
you wanted a horse and buggy to go
out into the country, you could have it
for a whole day for $1.50. The hire of a
gun, of a wheel, of a guide for any purpose
was nearly always about onethird
less than you had fancied it would
be. If there was some little painting
or alteration to be done about the
premises, It could be completed for next
to nothing, the painstaking carpenter
acting with the greatest politeness and
as though it was a privilege to get the
job.
"Certainly a coin goes far in Dixie.
Once when accompanying a surveyor
through swamp land he was trying to
locate a disputed boundary line. In
hunting for good ash trees, he dropped I
a paper which it would take him a good
deal of time to duplicate. Failing to 1
find it, he, that evening, told* a Negro
who lived in a cabin without the swamp I
to hunt for the paper and he would be
rewarded. ^
" 'if looking for this paper takes a
couple of days of your time, what will
you charge me?' the surveyor asked
this man.
"The Negro salaamed as if he was
getting the opportunity of his life. J
'Boss, I'll sarch dat swamp from end
to end for you fer 50 cents,' he said. I
'Wid de Lord's help I git that paper c
'fore sun up tomorrow.'
"The swamp was vast and amazingly
thick. It had been hard labor for us 1
to get through it, and I thought $5 rj
would have been scant pay for such a
commission. The Negro found the pa- *
per and was tickled to get his 50 cents.
"One can get neat sewing done in the j
south for a price that takes your
breath away if you are used to north- J
ern prices. The charge for the making
nf a rtrpss In a southern town is from 1
$5 to $7. The same description of dressmaking
in New > York would cost from
$12 to $16. My wife could never get
over the cheapness of the millinery as
contrasted with charges she was accustomed
to.
"The house we lived in was desirably
situated and in good repair, with an
inviting big hall through the middle,
water all through and abundant room
for gardens, stables and a poultry
yard. The rent was $20 a month and
one could have accommodated half a
dozen boarders in the house, and not
have missed the room they took up.
Judged from the outside and before I
knew the run of values I would willingly
have paid $50 a month for it.
"Perhaps the most startling thing to
us was the servants' attitude toward
tips. Gifts of clothing and tit-bits to
eat they were seemingly accustomed to,
but having money handed to them
about which there had been no previous
bargain was rather a poser. Some relatives
from Boston stopped with us for
a few days on their way to a winter resort.
On the morning of their leavetaking,
the man, who was a jolly-hearted
fellow and had found much entertainment
in the Negroes, got a goodsized
bill changed and tipped the
household staff all around.
"I'm sure those nig's haven't got
over the sensation yet. The nurse girl
told my wife that she hadn't had a
1-1- ~ ? + A# tkof
WII1K. Ul Bleep VII 111C 1115111. W1. uux. ?
eventful day, thinking of her fine present
and what she would do with it. ^
The cook was so rattled for a day or
two that she couldn't settle her mind
to anything and the house boy so elated
over the stranaffcJaefalling that he slm- 1
ply had to quit work every now and fj
again, and rush out into the yard to
shout his Joy. ^
"For a thing to be cheap at the south
does not necessarily mean that It is worthless
or Indifferent. The whole
scale of expenditure differs from that j
which obtains in other sections. With
excellent cotton land to be bought for ~
$20 an acre, sometimes for less, It
stands to reason that other expenses ^
must be In accord. And there being
many more Negroes in proportion to
the population than are actually needed
lessens the price of service.
"This cheap labor Is often of good 1
quality. No guests could be welcomed
more unctuously than those our Aunt
Ca'line ushered in. And as she saw l,
them out she never failed to tell them v
to 'come again and see Missus.' She p
forsook her work only for attendance i
on the doings of the 'I Will Arise' As- s
sociation, of which she was a member, t
The society had for its chief mission c
the burial of members and the wearing p
of startling badges of mourning at a
funerals. t
"Some of the original, well-trained p
domestics have got beyond work, but n
we learnea 01 several or me new generation
that were a credit to their j
places. A neighbor had a treasure of v
a cook who for 25 years had catered to t<
the family. She had not cooked all of n
the meals in all that time. When she ]<
wanted to rest she employed a sub- f
cook to work under her superintend- v
ence and her white people never knew c
the difference. a
"The Negro servants in their normal v
element become attached to the families
that employ them. I know one a
cook and supervisor earning $3.50 a h
month, who works unremittingly day v
after day and never leaving the prem- v
ises until 10 o'clock each night, kept
constant to her post by her almost fa- v
natical attachment to the little son of c
the household, a boy of 6 years. Peo- t
pie who knew her worth have repeat- c
edly offered her higher wages to go to v
them, but that little white child is the
magnet that holds her firm, no matter h
how much she may be imposed upon, t
A character of this sort is not 'cheap' a
whatever the pay. f.
"Certain of the old-fashioned south-" ti
erners plainly think it queer that a f,
servant should be ambitious and want
to work for money. It is astonishing t.
that such narrow-mindedness should 0
exist. But having for generations seen t,
Negroes work steadily and faithfully, ^
paid only in creature comforts, cloth- e
ing and food probably accounts for it. t(
The rates for railroad travel and the t|
price of daily newspapers were the a
only instances we observed of things
not being cheaper in the south than e
normal. One pays five cents for a p
morning paper that would really be f{
high at two cents a copy. In educa- v
tional as in domestic matters, moder- g(
ate charges ruled. My wife was
charmed to find a music teacher for our 0
1 1 iA P^TltQ fl *.
small 511 I ? Uu KJUI y Wliai 5WU vw..?w ? p
lesson. c
" 'And the teacher is a good one,' she p
announced, 'a graduate fresh from a c
Baltimore convent, where she has made j?
music a specialty and is up on the latest
methods.'
"I advise anybody who wants even 1{
the transitory sensation of having h
struck the horn of plenty to go live s
down south for awhile?not in the hotels,
but under his own vine and fig
tree."?New York Sun. r:
IN FOSSIL TOWN.
t was a group of citizens
Discussed the town's affairs;
^.nd some were young, some not s
young,
And some of hoary hairs;
But all discussed with emphasis
?It was a way of theirs.
V.nd some were rich, and some wer
poor,
And some of high degree;
3ut all concurred upon one point
With perfect harmony,
-It was the very deadest town
That ever they did see.
^.nd also this: "Now, what we need,
As every man doth know,
s some bold soul to take the lead
And to the others show
Some plan or other by the which
xo mane me uia town gruw.
t was a happy day, they said,
That brought all to this mind;
Che trouble heretofore had been
That one could never find
^ helping hand for any scheme
To which he was inclined.
Tor one pulled this way, one pulle
that,
Each with a stubborn will;
Ind all the others did the same
On varying lines, until
The net result was always that
The old town stood stock still.
?Jow this would all be changed, the
said,
And all would pull in line;
t.nd things would move and thing
w'd hum
And croakers cease to whine,
iVhen everybody pulled his best
And all should pull in line.
<Jow what was needed, only, was
Some enterprising man
ro take the lead and show the rest
Some practicable plan
)n which all parties could agree
Before the work began.
rhen up spake one, and he was sure
He knew the very scheme;
t was a new railroad, he said,
The boomer's favorite theme,
["he others all sat down on him;
?"It was an idle dream."
Another spoke of water-works,
With eloquence and power;
tnother of a big hotel
For tourists on the tour;
)ne thought it might be well to try
A mill for milling flour.
L factory, and a bleachery,
Excited some debate;
tn iron works, a paper mill,
Had each its advocate;
A cannery, a pottery
?ah snared tne common rare.
I cotton mill, a trolley line,
A turnpike broad and long,
Vere each proposed and each pooli
poohe<f
In chorus loud and strong,
rhey cost too much; no scheme woul
"go"
If it were started wrong.
I dlrtroad, then? A knitting mill?
A creamery, somewhere?
L grist mill? A brick kiln?
?The meeting didn't care
?o waste its time and money
On any cheap affair.
3ach speaker had his own idea
And argued it with vim;
'he others "couldn't see it"
And thought its promise dim.
is each in turn rose up and spoke
The others went for him.
-The group adjourned; and the
again,
With unanimltee, 4
Lnd eke with scorn, day after day,
All spoke their minds so free,
-"It was the very deadest town
That every they did see!"
?Carl McKinley in The News an
Courier.
NEGRO COCAINE FIENDS.
i'he Use of the Draft Han Now Sprem
to the Cotton Plantations.
It has been learned, says a New Or
eans letter, that cocaine as well a
whisky was peddled by the whisk
ilrate ship Hazel, whose skipper, Capl
lull, was recently arrested on the Mis
Isslppl river, charged with shootin
he sheriff and other citizens of Chlco
ounty, Ark. In his defence, Hull ex
ilains that he did not introduce cocain
mong the Negroes of the Yazoo Delts
iut merely did what a great man
ilanters are doing?supplied the de
nand for it.
The cocaine habit began among th
iegro roustabouts of New Orleans
^ho found that the drug enabled ther
o perform more easily the extraordi
larily severe work of loading and un
3ading steamboats at which, perhap
or 70 hours at a stretch, they have t
rork, without sleep or rest, in rain, ii
old and in h^at. The pay is high, $15
. month, but the work is imposslbl
without a stimulant.
Whisky, while protecting the Negr
gainst the rain and cold, did not giv
ilm endurance against fatigue tha
ras needed. Cocaine proved to l>e th
ery stimulant needed.
Under its Influence the strength am
igor of the laborer is temporarily in
reased, and he becomes impervious t
he extremes of heat and cold. Bu
ocaine is filling the insane asylum
:ith wrecks.
From the roustabouts the cocaln
abit spread to the levee camps aloni
he Mississippi, where the work is hard
nd the conditions of life and work un
avorable. Finally it reached the plan
ation hand and here it got the sam
oothold.
While the work on the cotton plan
ation is not so hard as levee bulldini
r loading steamboats, still at the cot
on picking season it calls for extraor
inarily long hours. As there is neve
nough labor to pick all the cotton it i
o the interest of the planters to hav
he Negroes work as much extra tlm
s possible. ^
The planters therefore hold out ever;
ncouragement to the Negro hands t
ut in a big day's work. The Negroe
rmnH thnt tho rime pnnhlpd them t<
,-ork longer and make more money, an<
0 they took to It.
Its use has grown steadily. On man;
f the Yazoo plantations this year th>
Tegroes refused to work unless the:
ould be assured that there was somi
lace in the neighborhood where the;
ould get cocaine, and one big plante
1 reported to keep the drug in stocl
mong the plantation supplies and t<
ssue regular rations of cocaine Just a;
e was accustomed in the past to is
ue rations of whisky.
Cocaine has not been in use on thi
Iver plantations long enough to do th<
harm it has done in New Orleans, but
the problem is looming up as an important
one. In the meanwhile the efforts
0 to prevent the spread of the cocaine
habit in New Orleans and other southern
cities have been quite successful.
It has been found impossible to cure the
e cocaine fiends who are fast drifting to
the insane asylums, killing themselves
or being killed, but It has been found
possible to stop the future sale of cocaine
in the drugstores and to keep the
young Negroes from taking up the
habit.
The Negroes themselves have been
very active in this movement, and the
police have shown so much energy that
the public sale of the drug has almost
ceased in New Orleans.
A crusade against the use of the
drug has begun in most of the towns,
but as yet no effort has been made to
prevent its sale in the country districts.
(\ HAVE AIDED JUSTICE.
Picture* That Have Helped In the
Detection of Criminal*.
For their success in securing their
auarrv the Dolice at times 6we not a
little to the enterprise of the press.
Percy Lefroy, the murderer of Mr.
Gold, was captured through the publi>8
cation of his portrait in The Daily Telegraph,
which, coming to the notice of
the landlady of the house in which he
was hiding, was recognized by her as
that of the self-styled engraver, Park,
who for a few weeks past had been her
lodger. She gave notice to the police,
who promptly arrested the wretched
man.
Mr. W. P. Frith, R. A., tells in his
reminiscenses of a friend of his named
. O'Neil who was attacked one night by
a footpad and robbed of his watch. The
assault chanced to take place beneath
a gas lamp, by the light of which the
victim saw sufficient of the thief's face
to jot down a rough sketch. This he
carried to the police, who by its aid
soon afterward arrested his assailant.
In the possession of the writer is a
watercolor drawing by the late William
Hunt, which was the means of trapping
a dishonest valet who had robbed
his master. The fellow had eluded the
vigilance of the police, and the gentleman
had given up all hopes of bringing
him to Justice, when, happening to
visit a friend's house, he saw on the
~ walls of the dining room a speaking
likeness of his rascally servant in the
d gnise of an Italian shepherd. The following
day he called upon the artist,
who, on hearing the facts of the case,
supplied him with the address of the
original, who was duly arrested and received
his Just deserts.
Even more curious is the history of
the sketch of a spaniel made by Sir
Edwin Landseer. in which a detective
who chanced to see the picture! recognized
the property of a man of whom
he was In search. The address of the
then owner of the dog was ascertained
and the animal, being surreptiously
11 taken from his custody unconsciously
betrayed his master by guiding the
officers of the law to the very house
where he was hiding.
Horace Vernet, the celebrated French
painter, was amazed to notice the effect
that the picture of a brigand had upon
a lady who had called at his studio.
On his inquiring the cause of his visitor's
perturbation the latter replied
that a week previous her house had
been broken into by a masked man,
whose eyes?so malign and ruthless
were they?had stricken her with a
s sickening terror?a terror which had
y been strangely revived by the eyes of
t. the portrait before her. This story so
i- interested the artist that he communiS
cated it to the police, who, acting on his
>t suggestion, searched his model's lodg
! %/?? nrUK rQmiU tVto f o fffaat norl
uigo, twin uiu icouii mat a gicui i/au
e of the stolen property was found on the
i, premises.
y Many years ago the late George
- Crulkshank told the writer that a gentleman
who was glancing through one
e of his sketch books was so struck by a
man's head that he, with visible trepn
idation, inquired the name of the orig
inal. Crulkshank, surprised at his
- emotion, answered that the portrait,
s the result of pure imagination aided by
o abstract observation", was intended to
n represent a typical criminal, and de0
manded the cause of the other's so
e anxious inquiry.
"Only that it bears a striking resem0
blance to my butler," was the reply.
? "In that case your butler's assuredly
t a thief," said Crulkshank. "Keep a
e sharp eye on him."
Which the gentleman did, with the
3 result that the artist's statement was
soon justified..?London Tit-Bits.
0 , t ,
1 Too Much For the Minister.?A
s clerical correspondent of the London
Express tells of a wedding ceremony
e in which he officiated, and in his zeal
? for rubrical observances laid himself
'> open to a comical and crushing retort.
"I was then curate of a small coun"
try parish in Somersetshire and one day
e a couple presented themselves, after
due preliminaries, for marriage in the
" village church.
? "All went well until the moment
" came when it is directed by the rubric
" that the man shall place the ring upon
I* tVio fniirtVi fl n crur* nf thp wnmn fl'S l^ft
3 hand, but then trouble began. The
e yokel, apparently from nervousness or
e Ignorance, laid hold of the right hand
of his expectant bride and placed the 1
v ring there resolutely.
0 " 'No,' I said, with quiet firmness, i
3 'you must put the ring onto her left
0 hand.' To this his only reply was a
* stolid stare. Thinking he had not understood
me, I repeated my words, but
Y with no better effect.
e "With as much warmth and insist^
ence as was justified by the occasion, i
e I now took firmer ground and said, 'If <
^ you do not put the ring onto her left
r hand I must stop the service.'
? "And then the climax came. With a i
complacent smile, that seemed to show :
his satisfaction at having for the mo- 1
ment 'bested' the parson, the bride- 1
groom settled the point for all time with
B the words, 'Please, sir, she ain't got
e none!' " <
EMILY GEIGER.
Interentlnir Story of a Famonn Revolntlonary
Heroine.
Mrs. R. C. Bacon, of Edgefield read
before the recent meeting of the
Daughters of the Revolution the following
Interesting and Instructive address
on "The Revolutionary Heroines
of South Carolina:
Madame Regent and Daughters of
the American Revolution: I have the
honor by appointment of our state regent
to address you on "The Revolutionary
Heroines of South Carolina"?a
truly grand and Inspiring theme. But
our limited time is too short to do justice
to the long roll of noble women
who devotedly stood by to uphold their
lords and heroes in the momentous
struggle as they fought and triumphed
in our cause for liberty. Their lives
and records are too well-known to you
and to the world for words of mine to
add one iota to their lustre and glory.
Therefore, I have selected one choice
spirit among them to claim your attention
on this occasion whose deed of
daring illumines the dark pages of history
and show what a brave woman
can do for love of country. Though the
tale be oft told it can never grow stale
or unprofitable to the present audience,
assembled in the capltol of our state
art noqt? fun. uavma
uu iivui nit ironic auu giavc Ul Dlllli;
Geiger and In site of the beautiful
mural tablet the Daughters of the ?
American Revolution have so appropriately
erected within these historic
walls, commemorating her heroic act.
About two miles from Columbia, S.
C., in a secluded spot on the banks of .
the Congaree under the shade of farspreading
oaks, within hearing of the
low-murmuring stream, with no beaten
path to point the way is a lonely grave
unhonored by monumental shaft or
stone. "No storied urn or animated
bust" marks the spot. Under this neglected
mound rest the mortal remains
of a heroine of the American Revolution
whose heart, long since stilled in
death, once throbbed with fond love of
country and warmed to perform a daring
deed not surpassed even in those
stirring times "that tried men's souls."
History and tradition have preserved
to us the story of Emily Geiger and her
brave act substantiated by relatives
and old persons who lived in the neighborhood.
,
In 1781, when the cloud of defeat was
darkest over the south, when Charleston
and the low country were in possession
of the British and Gen. Greene
had raised the siege of Ninety-Six, the
stronghold of the Tories in the upcountry,
and was retreating before the
approach of Lord Rawdon, strongly reinforced
from England, a striking
event took place.
Gen. Greene had halted on the banks
of the Enoree, after having had the
good fortune to intercept dispatches
sent by Balfour to Lord Rawdon announcing
a change of plans. This Important
news he was exceedingly anxious
to communicate to Gen. Sumter,
the partisan leader who was many
miles below him on the Wateree. But
the country was teaming with bloodthirsty
Tories, ready to seize everyone
suspected of sympathy for the Whigs
and none of the men were Inclined to
risk certain death should they fall into
Ua a# ? J"
me uauuo vjl mc cu^iiiy. jlii uius uucillma,
unexpectedly, a young and pretty
girl appeared before Gen. Greene to
offer her services In the hazardous undertaking.
The general was delighted
by the spirit and boldness of the young
girl, not more than 18 years old.
Perceiving her to be bright and Intelligent
beyond her years he carefully
communicated the contents of the letter
he entrusted to her for fear of Its
being lost on the way.
The heroic maiden mounted a fleet
steed, crossed the Wateree and pressed
on to Sumter's camp. The second day
or ner journey wmie passing tnrougn a
dense wood she encountered a party of
Tory scouts who seized her as an object
of suspicion and locked her up as a
prisoner in a house nearby. Her ready
wit and innocent replies protected her
until a woman was sent for to examine
and search her. No sooner had the
men left her in solitary confinement
than she, with great presence of mind,
disposed of the dispatch most effectually
by eating it piece by piece, and
nothing contraband was found when
the matron arrived to make the search.
Her apparent simplicity and innocence
so imposed upon the British officer that
she was soon released and allowed to
proceed on her journey to visit a
"friend," she said, and thus she was
soon flying across the country towards
Sumter's headquarters at Orangeburg,
where she delivered her message from
Greene, which brought Sumter and his
forces to his aid, and enabled him to
carry out an important move against
the enemy.
Pretty Emily Geiger survived those
harrowing days of war and its consequent
trials and lived to rejoice with
her country over the splendid victory
that crowned her struggle for liberty.
Forty years after we hear of her
dancing with Gen. LaFayette at the
ball given to him when he passed
though Columbia on his triumphal tour
through the United States in 1825.
She married a Mr. Threewits, a respectable
planter of Fairfield and unfortunately
left no lineal descendant to
represent her in the patriotic societies
of today.
But history and tradition have preserved
to us the story of her heroism
and her memory is encircled with the
halo of a dauntless deed. As we look
upon the beautiful tablet erected by
patrotic women of South Carolina.
May the spirit of Emily Geiger and of
the many noble heroines of Revolutionary
fame awake echoes in the bosoms
of untold generations and insprie us,
nniichters of the American Revolution.
with the determination to keep alive
the flres of patriotism and guard that
holy love of country which next to religion
is the highest emotion of the
30ul.?Columbia State.
tS" The man who goes to the bad selilom
has a long journey.
A