Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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4 ? 'X^isDSEMX-WE EM.^ ^ ^ ^ l. m. orist'S SONS, Publishers. } % ^amitg Uercspjer: Jfor the promotion ofl the political, Social, ^grirultural, and (Batmntittial Jntsresta of the feople. { tkbmLo^?coApt! ?rac^tl'c'i" ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKYILLE, S. C., FRIDAY, AUGUST 1903. NO. 67. - . , | ~ By WILL N. H/ Copyright, 1902, by Harper Bros. All i CHAPTER XVI?Continued. Wilson lautrhed again as be fished the desired article from his pocket and gave It and a match to Pole. Then he leaned against the heavy railing of the banisters. "I may as well tell you," he said. "I'm a dealer In lumber myself, and I'd like to know what kind of timber you have out there." Pole pulled at the cigar, thrust It well into the corner of his mouth, with the fire end smoking very near his left eye. and looked thoughtful. "To tell you the truth, my friend," he said, "I railly believe you'd be wastin' time to. go over thar." "Oh, you think so!" It was a vocal start on the part of Wilson. "Yes, sir; the truth Is old man Bishop has simply raked into his dern clutch ever' acre o' fine timber out that away. W AfVAK f'Af K AH iiuw, fi )uu ncui cuot, utu t uuuti side o' the mountains, you mought pick out some good timber; but, as I said, old man Bishop's got it all In a bag out our way. Sawmill?" "No, I don't run a sawmill," said Wilson, with an avaricious sparkle in his eye. "I sometimes buy timbered lands for a speculation; that's all." Pole laughed. "I didn't see how you could be a sawmill man an' smoke cigars like this an' wear them clothes. I never knowed a sawmill man to make any money." "I suppose this Mr. Bishop is buying to sell again," said Wilson tentatively. "People generally have some such idea when they put money into such property." Pole looked wise and thoughtfuL "1 don't know whether he is or not," he said, "but my opinion is that he'll hold on to it till he's in the ground. He evl aenuy tninas a goou ume s a-cowiu : Thar was a feller out thar t'other day with money to throw at cats. He's been tryin' to honeyfuggle the old man Into a trade, but I don't think he made 1 a deal with 'lm." "Where was the man from?" Wilson spoke uneasily. "I don't rallly know, but he ain't a-goin' to give up. He told Nell Filmore at his store that he was goin' home to see his company an' write the old man a proposition that ud fetch Mm ef thar was any trade in Mm." Wilson pulled out his watch. "Do you happen to know where Mr. Rayburn Miller's law office is?" he asked. "Yes; it's right round the corner. 1 know whar all the white men in this town do business, an' he's as white as they make 'em an' as straight as a shingle." an aonnaintaiipe of mine." said Wilson. "I thought I'd run In and see him before I leave." "It's right round the corner an' down the fust side street toward the courthouse. I 'ain't got nothin' to do; I'll p'lnt it out." "Thank you," said Wilson, and they went out of the house and down the street together, Pole puffing vigorously at his cigar in the brisk breeze. "Thar you are," said Pole, pointing to Miller's sign. "Good day, sir; much obleeged fer this smoke," and with his head In the air Pole walked past the office without looking In. * "Good morning," exclaimed Miller as Wilson enterftl. "You are not an early riser like we are here in the country." He Introduced Wilson all round and then gave him a chair near his desk and facing him rather than the others. "This is the gentleman who owns the nrnnprtv I hellpvp " said Wilson suave ly as he indicated Bishop. Miller nodded, and a look of cunning dawned In his clear eye. "Yes. I have just been explaining to Mr. and Mrs. Bishop that the mere signing of a paper such as will be necessary to secure^the loan will not bind them at all In the handling of their property. You know how cautious older people are nowadays in regard to legal matters. Now, Alan here, their on. understands the matter thoroughly, and his mind Is not at all disturbed." Wilson fell into the preliminary trap, "Oh, no; it's not a binding thing at all," he said. "The payment of tlie money buck to us releases you?that la, of course," Wilson recovered himself, "if we make the loan." Several hearts in the room sank, but Miller's face did not alter in the slight est. "Oh. of course, if the loau is made," he said. Wilson put his silk hat ca the top of Miller's desk and flicked the asliet from his cigar into a cuspidor. Then he looked at Mrs. Bishop suddenly? "Does the lady object to smoking?" "Not at all," said the old lady; "not at all." There was a pause as Wilson relighted his cigar and pulled at it in silence. A step sounded on the sidewalk and Trabue put his head in at the door. Miller could have sworn at him, ^ but he smiled, "(lood morning, squire," he said. "I see you are busy," said the intruder hastily. "Just a little, squire. I'll see you in a few minutes." "Oh. all right." The old lawyer moved on down the sidewalk, his bunds in his pockets. Miller brought up the subject again with easy adroitness. "I mentioned your proposition to ray clients?the proposition that they allow you the refusal of the laud at one hundred thousand, and they have finally come round to it. As I told them, they could not possibly market a thing like that as easily and for as good a price as a company regularly in the business. 1 * iPRT? M Author of lIX.I3Ilrr>l, " Westerfelt." 'ights reserved. "Thar you are," said Pole. [ may have been wrong In giving such advice, but It was the way I felt about It." , Without realizing it, Wilson tripped in auother hole dug by Miller's inven uve mum. "They couldn't do half as well with It," the Boston man said. "In fact, no one could, as I told you, pay as much for the property as we can, considering the railroad we have to move somewhere and our gigantic facilities for handling lumber In America and abroad. Still I think, and our directors j think, a hundred thousand is a big price." Miller laughed as If amused. "That's Ave dollars an acre, you know, but I'm not here to boom Mr. Bishop's timber land. In fact, all this has grown out of my going down to Atlanta to borrow twenty-five thousand dollars ou the property. I think I would have saved time if I hadn't Clin on you down there. Mr. Wilson." Wilson frowned and looked at his cigar. " \> e ure winiuy, saxu ue, lu uiaac the loan at 5 per cent per annum on two conditions." "Well, out with them," laughed Miller. "What are they?" "First," said Wilson slowly and methodically, "we want the refusal of the property at one hundred thousand dollars." Miller's indifference was surprising. "For what length of time do you want the refusal of the property at that figure ?" be asked, almost In a tone of contempt. Wilson hung fire, his brow wrinkled thoughtfully. "Till it is decided positively," he got out finally, "whether we can get a charter and a right of way to the property." "That's entirely too indefinite to suit my clients," said the lawyer. "Do you suppose. Mr. Wilson, that they want to hang their property up on a hook like that? Why, if you didn't attend to pushing your road through?well, they would simply be in your hands, " ?i i_ [ rne L.ora oniy snows uuw lung. "But we Intend to do all we can to shove it through," said Wilson, with a flush. "You know that Is not a businesslike proposition, Mr. Wilson," said Miller, with a bland smile. "Why, it amounts to an option without any limit at all." "Oh, I don't know," said Wilson lamely. "Mr. Bishop will be interested just as we are in getting a right of way through. In fact, it would insure us of his help. We can't buy a right of way; we can't afford it. The citieens through whose property the road runs must be persuaded to contribute the land for the purpose, and Mr. Bishop, of course, has influence up here with his neighbors." "Still he would be very imprudent," said Miller, "to option his property without any limit. Now here's what we are willing to do. As long as yoa hold Mr. Bishop's note for $25,000 unpaid you shall have the refusal of the land at $100,000. Now, take my advice"?Miller was smiling broadly? "let it stand at that." Wilson reflected for a moment, and then he said: "All right. Let that go. The other condition is this?and it need be only a verbal promise?that nothing be said about my company's making this loan nor our securing the refusal of the property." "That will suit us," said >i!ller. "Mr. Bishop doesn't care to lnue the public know his business. Of courap the mortgage will have to be recorded at the courthouse, but that need not attract attention. I don't blame Mr. Bishop," went on Miller in a half confidential tone. "These people are the worst gossips you ever saw. If you meet any of them, they will tell you that Mr. Bishop has bu'sted himself wide open by buying so much timber land, but this loan will make him as solid as the Bank of England. The people don't understand his dealings, and they are trying to take it out on him by blasting his reputation for being one of the solidest men in his county." "Well, that's all, I believe," said Wilson, and Miller drew a blank sheet of legal cap paper to him and began to write. Half an hour later the papers were signed, and Miller carelessly handed Wilson's crisp pink check on a New York bank to Mr. Bishop. "There you are, Mr. Bishop," he said, with a smile. "You didn't want any one else to have a finger In that big pie of yours over there, but you needed money, and I'll tell you as a friend that a hundred thousand cash down will be about as well as you can do with that land. It takes money, and intn nf it to make monev. and Mr. Wil son's company can move the thing faster than you can." "That's a fact," said Wilson in a tone that betrayed self gratification. "Now we must all pull together for the railroad." He rose and turned to Miller. "Will you come with me to record the paper?" "Certainly," said Miller, and they both left together. The Bishop family were left alone, and, the strain being lifted, they found themselves almost wholly exhausted. "Is it all over?" gasped the old woman, standing up and grasping her son's arm. "We've got his money," Alan told her, with a glad smile, "and a fair chance for more." The pink check was fluttering in old RiRhnn's hand. Already the old self willed look that brooked no interference with bis personal affairs was returning to bis wrinkled face. "I'll go over to Craig's bank an' deposit it," be said to Alan. "It '11 take a day or two to collect it, but he'd let me check on It right now fer any reasonable amount." "I believe I'd ask him not to mention the deposit," suggested Alan. "Huh! I reckon I've got sense enough to do that" "I thought you Intended to pay off the mortgage on our farm the fust thing," ventured Mrs. Bishop. "We can't do it till the note's due next January," said Bishop shortly. "I agreed to keep the money a yeer, an' Martin Doe '11 make me hold to it But what do you reckon I care as long as I've got some'n' to meet it with?" Mrs. Bishop's face fell. "I'd feel better about it if it was cleer," she faltered. ? - " ? J-- M 1 "But the Lord knows we on to ieei thankful to come out as we have. If It hadn't been fer Alan ? Mr. Miller said that Alan"? "Ef you all hadn't made sech a eternal row," broke in Bishop testily, "I'd 'a' had more timber land than this. Colouel Barclay has as One a strip as any 1 got. an' he's bantered me for a trade time an' agin." Abner Daniel seldom sneered at anybody, no matter what the provocation was, but It seemed Impossible for him to refrain from It now. * < "You've been lookln' fer the last three months like a man that needed more land," he said. "Jest no furder back 'an last night you 'lowed ef you could git enough fer yore folly to raise the debt off'n yore farm you'd die happy, an' now yo're a-frettln' beca'Be you didn't buy up the sides o' the earth an' give nobody else a foothold. Le* me tell you the truth, even ef it does hurt a little. Ef Alan hadn't thought o' this heer railroad Idea, you'd 'a' been the biggest human pancake that ever lay flat in its own grease." "I hain't said nothtn' to the contrary," admitted Bishop, who really took the reproof well. "Alan knows what I think about It." Then Bishop and his wife went to Craig's bank, and a moment later Miller returned, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. "We got through, and he's gone to catch his train," he said. "It worked as smooth as goose grease. I wonder what Pole Baker said to him, or if he saw him. I have an idea he did. from the way Wilson danced to our music." "Heer's Pole now," said Abner from the door. "Come in heer, you triflln' loafer, an' give an account o' yoren m be I. "I seed Mm makln' fer the train," laughed Pole, "an' so I sneaked in to see what you uns done. He walked like he owned the town." "It went through like llghtnln', without a hitch or a bobble," Abner told him. "You did noble," said Miller, while Pole and Alan were silently clasping hands. "Now I told you we wouldn't forget you. Go down to Wimbley's and tell him to give you the best suit of clothes he's got and to charge them to me and Alan." Pole drew himself up to his full height and stared at the lawyer with flashing eyes. "Blast yore soul!" be said. "Don't you say a thing like that to me agin. I'll have you know I've got feelln's as well as you or anybody else. I'd cut off this right arm an' never wince to do Alan Bishop a favor, but HI be danged ef anybody kin look me over after I've done a little one an' pay me for it in store clothes. I don't like that one bit, an' I ain't afeerd to say so." "I didn't mean any offense, Pole," apologi/.ed Miller most humbly. "Well, you wouldn't 'a* said it to some men," growled Pole. "I know that When I want pay fer a thing like that, I'll jest go to that corner o' the street an' look down at that rock nile whiir AIhii found me one dav an' paid me out jest to keep me from bein' the laughin' stock o' this town." Alan put his arm over his shoulder. "Rayburn didn't mean any harm," he said gently. "You are both my friends, and we've had a big victory today. Let's not have hard feelings." Pole hung his head stubbornly and Miller extended his hand. Abner Danlei was an attentive listener, a half smile on his face. "Say, Pole," he said, with a little laugh, "you run down to Wlmbley's an' tell Mm not to wrop up that suit. I'm a-owin' him a bill, an' he kin jest credit the value of it on my account." Pole laughed heartily and thrust his big hand into Miller's. "Uncle Ab," he said, "you'd make a dog laugh." "I believe yo're right/' said Abner significantly, and then they all roared at Pole's expense.* The next day Alan received the following letter from Dolly Barclay: Dear Alan?Rayburn Miller told me in confidence of your wonderful success yesterday, and I simply cried with Joy. I knew?I felt that you would win, and this is, as he says, a glorious beginning. I am so proud of you, and I am so full of hope today. All our troubles will come out right some day, and now that I know you love me I can wait Rayburn would not have confided so much to me, but he said while he would not let me tell father anything about the prospective railroad, he wanted me to prevent him from selling u'~ ???At nf lonH near vours. You know I1IO uavw my father consults me about all his business. and he will not dispose of that property without my knowing of it Oh, wouldn't It be a line joke on him to have him profit by your good Judgment Alan was at the little postofflce in Filmore's store when he received the letter, and he folded It and restored it to its envelope with a heart filled with love and tenderness. As he walked home through the woods It seemed to him that everything in nature was ministering to his boundless happiness. He felt as light as air as he strode along. "God bless her dear, dear little soul I" he said fervently. TO BE CONTINUED. BOUND A3 WAS ULYSSES. Homecoming Sailor Passed the City Sirens and Bought a Farm. Of the temptations which beset the homecoming Jack; >of his weakness in the face of them, and of the Ulyssean A?a AIH OQ 1 f mndp measures which wnc w.t. ???., ..._? wise by many sad experiences, employed to secure himself against the song of the Sirens, a naval officer of high rank has this story to tell: There was an old boatswain named Sam on board the last ship which this officer commanded before going on shoreduty, Sam had served his country some thirty years when his last cruise took him to the Asiatic station and kept him there for more than three years. At the end of that time he had some $800 to his credit, which would be paid over to him as soon as the ship reached New York. One evening just before the home shore was sighted, the captain was on the quarter-deck when Sam approached him, tugging his old-fashioned forelock and scraping with his foot as he bowed. He was an old favorite, and could get an audience at any time. "We'll soon be home, Cap'n," he be gan. "Right you are, Sammy, and I suppose you'll be happy to get a rest at last." "Maybe I am and maybe I ain't? there's my sister Sally." "Well, won't you be glad to see her?" "Maybe I will and maybe I won't?' there's the $800 coming to me." "The more welcome you should be, Sammy." "Ya-as; and Sally wants me to buy a farm and stay home." "Splendid Idea, Sammy. I'm sure you'll end as a bloated landholder." "Ya-as, but there's New York 'tween Sally and the money." "And what of It?" "Well, you know, New York Is a pretty fine city and?and I've been gone a durned long time, and?If I get through New York with any money left that'll be the first time In my experience." The captain understood. "How far away does Sally live?" he asked. "Thirty-five miles, Cap'n." "Can't you get there without passing New York?" "Can't be done, Cap'n, and that's Just the rub." "It's the worst blankety-blank thing I ever heard of," remarked the captain reproachfully, "that an old, seasoned, sensible chap like you must be so weak." "It's a ship's length beyond all excuses," the old man admitted In a mournful tone. "But I can't help It. Cap'n. I suppose It's In the land air." The captain was thinking hard. "How would It be for me to send an officer with you through the city?" "That's terribly kind of you, Cap'n, but there ain't no man strong enough In the navy to hold me when I feel the smell of the grogshops." ?T crn with vnii mvsplf." the x ntiuu bw ? v captain declared. Sam shifted from one foot to the other and looked indescribably unhappy. "I'm afeared?" he began. "I'll take you in a carriage?a closed one." "God bless you, Cap'n; but I'll be blamed if I don't think I might jump out." "Then I'll be danged if I know what to do for you," the captain concluded in despair. "There might be Just one way what I've been thinking of?but, of course, that's really too much?" "Sing out and don't be afraid." "S'poslng you went with me in a carriage?and that the carriage was closed"?the old man was twisting about as if in pain?"and?and my hands and feet were tied up, and you didn't let me loose till we got outside the town?I don't know, Cap'n, but I guess I might get through with the money." The old man's play was earned out to the letter. He begged and prayed and swore while the carriage was passing through the streets of New York, but, like Ulysses tied to the mast, he was helpless, and the captain remained as deaf to the old fellow's entreaties and outbursts of profanity as if his ears had been filled with wax, like those of the Ulyssean crew. Once beyond the city, Sam calmed down. At Sally's door, but not until the money had passed into her hands, the captain left his charge. That's how the farm came to be bought. But to this day Sam vows that but for the ropes that held him during those moments of sapreme temptation he would still be cruising on the high seas as poor as ever.?Chicago InterOcean. piscdlaticotts Reading. EASY WEALTH FOR FARMERS. Prof. Holden'e New Idea About How to Plant Corn. "Let every farmer In the seven great corn states give a few winter evenings ~ -"A t 1 .|_ 111 Ua ana 48(J,UUU,UUU Dusneis will ue auucu to the -annual crop of the corn belt." In these words Prof. P. G. Holden of the Ames Agricultural college summarizes the results to be expected of the campaign Instituted by himself and the Iowa Corn Growers' association. It isn't increased acreage that Prof. Holden wants; it is better results from the present acreage. It is not by any artificial culture that he would bring about these results. He promises that they shall be realized if the farmer does the simple thing of putting a hundred live kernels of corn in every thirty hills. Entirely new in agriculture is the experimental work of Prof. Holden, and throughout Iowa he has convinced meetings of farmers that for once a professor in an agricultural college has a reform that is thoroughly practical. In a word, his plan requires only the sorting by hand of seed corn and the filing of plates in corn planters in such a way as to drop the required number of grains of corn in each hill. To find how mucn me iarmero ui Iowa are losing each year by not properly planting corn, Prof. Holden last year sent 1,000 letters to all parts of Iowa asking the number of stalks In each hill In corn fields. He found that the stand was but 75 per cent of what he has demonstrated will produce the largest yield, and last year's corn crop was considered a good stand. The other day he himself Inspected twentyfour of the best corn fields he could find. "I found," he reported to a meeting of the Iowa Corn Growers' association in Sioux City, "from 39 to 86.2 pier cent, of a perfect stand. The average loss was 27.7 per cent. "I do not mean by this that the field that has five stalks in each hill Is better than one with four and that hills of six stalks are better than hills of five. I have found that the best results are obtained from an average of about three and a third stalks to a hill. "I have found one stalk in a hill will produce but one-third as much corn as a proper number of stalks, two stalks three-fourths of a yield and five stalks three-fourths of a yield. In making my tables I counted either three or four stalks a 100 per cent stand. "For ten years the average yield of corn in Iowa has been approximately 35 bushels. A yield of thirty-five bushels with a 70 per cent stand, which is the average found in a number of years, would become fifty bushels with a 100 per cent stand." The acreage planted in corn in the seven states growing over 100,000,000 bushels of corn in 1902 was: Illinois, 9,623,680; Iowa, 9,302,688: Nebraska, 7,817,962; Kansas, 7,451,693; Missouri, 6.775.198; Indiana, 4,520,937; Ohio, 3,200.224. The combined acreage was about 48,000,000. A gain of ten bushels an acre, or a 90 per cent stand, which Prof. Holden thinks is easily attainable, would mean an increase in the annual yield of these states of 480,000,000 bushels. On the big Funk farm at Bloomington, 111., Prof. Holden's theory was carried out last year. Several thousand acres were planted with seed sor ted by band, througn planters aajusieu to drop the proper number of kernels. Previously, the best yield was fiftyeight bushels an acre. Last year the average was seventy-two bushels. Of the gain. Prof. Holden estimates 80 per cent, was due to the stand and 20 per cent to the excellent germinating power of the seed. In the experimental fields under Prof. Holden's control the yield has never been less than 60 bushels since 1896. The owner of 4,000 acres of corn ground at Oldebolt, la., this spring bought six corn planters and put them to work hurriedly. He has examined his field and found a stand of 13} stalks to each hill. He estimates his loss at $20,000. He has told that hereafter he will plant according to the Holden method. "Aw, that isn't practical," objected a farmer in one of Prof. Holden's meetings. "The idea of my sorting grains of corn by hand. I have something better to do." "All right," answered Prof. .Holden. "We will say that you have the work done by a man to whom you pay $2 a day. He will sort at least a bushel of shelled corn every day. "That bushel will plant seven acres of ground. The fact that it has been sorted will add at least ten bushels to the acre yield. At an average price of 30 cents a bushel that would mean a return of $21 for the $2 you invested in having the corn sorted. "But you can do It as well on winter evenings when it will have cost you nothing."?Sioux City, Iowa, Letter. A Bank Teller's Tale.?The Bismarck Quarry company had an option on three acres of land belonging to Sam Dunseith, good for one year, the aaa or* oppq " onih tha JVC MCI1I5 <p 1(UVV Mil MV1 W| UM.M ?... bank teller. "Before the expiration of the time the company offered payment, which Dunselth refused. He wanted more. The man could not legally demand It, but the company, wishing to avoid a lawsuit, asked my opinion in the matter. I suggested payment in one-dollar bills. "I obtained a large coin sack, and counted out the 3,000 ones. Sorting them separately and crumpling them all up, I thrust them into the sack, which looked like a bag of feathers. The president of the company,, together with a lawyer and a clerk as wit; ness, proceeded to the house of Dun seith and again proffered payment, which was again refused. Walking over to the large table In the center of the room, the president cut the string and dumped the contents of the sack in a huge pile on the table. " 'Here is your three thousand dollars! Will you take it?' "The farmer was amazed at the pile of money, more than he had ever seen before. He stammered out: " '1 guess I'll take It.' "In less than three minutes his signature was on the deed, witnessed by the lawyer's clerk."?New York Times. PUTNAM AND THE WOLF. Descended Thrice Into Den and Killed Pernicious Beast. * Of the great number of summer residents In Pomfret, Hampton, and others of the beautiful Windham county towns. It Is doubtful If many ever heard the complete story of Gen. Israel Putnam's adventure with a wolf, and his descent Into the "darksome den," In which the monster had taken refuge, his dispatching of the beast, and the curious manner In which both Gen. Putnam and the wolf were brought together from Its terrifying depths. This "den" Is a well-known object of Interest in Pomfret to this day and to those who never heard the story, this account of the exploit, taken from the American Preceptor, a famous old Hartford Imprint of the date of 1810, by Caleb Bingham, author of "The Columbian Orator, Child's Companion," etc., will be found interesting: 1. When Gen. Putnam first moved to Pomfret, in Connecticut, in the year 1739, the country was new, and much Infested with wolves. Great havoc was made among the sheep by a she wolf, which, with her annual whelps, had for. several years continued in that vicinity. The young ones were commonly destroyed by the vigilance of the hunters; but the old one was too sagacious to be ensnared by them. 2. This wolf at length became such an intolerable nuisance that Mr. Putnam entered into a combination with five of his neighbors to hunt alternately until they could destroy her. Two, by rotation, were to be constantly in pursuit. It was known that, having lost the toes from one foot by a steel trap, she made one track' shorter than the other. 3. By this vestige, the pursuers recognized in a light snow the route of this pernicious animal. Having followed her to the Connecticut river, and found that she had turned back in a direct course toward Pomfret, they immediately returned, and by 10 o'clock the next morning the bloodhounds had driven her into a den about three miles distant from the house of Mr. Putnam. 4. The people soon collected with dogs, guns, straw, fire, and sulphur to attack the common enemy. With this apparatus, several unsuccessful efforts were made to force her from the den. The hounds came back badly wounded and refused to return. The smoke of blazing straw had no effect. Nor did the fumes of burned brimstone/ with which the cavern was filled, compel her to quit the retirement. 5. Wearied with such fruitless attempts, (which had brought the time to 10 o'clock at night), Mr. Putnam tried once more to make his dog enter, but in vain; he proposed to his Negro man to go down into the cavern and shoot the wolf. The Negro declined the hazardous service. 6. Then it was that their master, angry at the disappointment and declaring that he was ashamed of having a coward in his family, resolved himself to destroy the ferocious beast, lest she should escape through some unknown fissure of the rock. 7. His neighbors strongly remonstrated against the perilous enterprise; but he, knowing that wild animals were intimidated by fire, and having provided several strips of birch bark, the only combustible material which he could obtain which would afford light In this deep and darksome cave, prepared for his descent. 8. Having accordingly divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, and having a long rope fastened around his legs, by which he might be pulled back at a concerted signal, he entered, head foremost, with the blazing torch in his hand. 9. Having groped his passage till he came to a horizontal part of the den, the most terrifying darkness appeared in front of the dim circle of light afforded by his torch. It was silent as the house of death. None but monsters of the desert had ever before explored this solitary mansion of horror. 10. He cautiously proceeded onward, came to an ascent, which he slowly mounted on his hands and knees until he discovered the glaring eyeballs of the wolf, who was sitting at the extremity of the cavern. Startled at the sight of tire she gnashed her teeth and gave a sudden growl. 11. As soon as he had made the necessary discovery he kicked the rope as a signal for pulling mm out. xne i people at the mouth of the den, who had listened with painful anxiety, i hearing the growling of the wolf and i supposing their friend to be in the most imminent danger, drew him forth with such celerity that he was strip- i ped of his clothes and severely bruised, j 12. After he had adjusted his clothes and loaded his gun with nine buckshot, i holding a torch in one hand and the musket in the other, he descended a i second time. When he drew nearer than before, the wolf assuming a still more fierce and terrible appearance, howling, rolling her eyes, snaplng her teeth, and dropping her head between her legs, was evidently in the attitude i and on the point of springing at him. 13. At this critical instant he leveled and fired at her head. Stunned with the shock and suffocated with the smoke he immediately found himself drawn out of the cave. But having refreshed hihiself and permitted the smoke to dissipate, he was down the third time. 14. Once more he came within sight of the wolf, who, appearing very pas- i slve, he applied the torch to her nose, and perceiving her head, he took hold ' of her ears and then kicking the rope (still tied around his legs) the people above, with no small exultation, drag- ' ged them both out together.?Hartford i Conn., Courant. DOCTORS' BLUNDER8. What Legal Method* Applied to Medical Practice Would Uncover. "Now that I am through with medicine I can speak of the profession In a fashion that I would not If I was still In the practice," said a gentleman who has been known as a successful physician In New York for years as he sat at luncheon In the Lawyers' club. "Of course I don't care to have my name mentioned, for I have lots of good friends In the profession, but the fact is that the profession of medicine would be nearly ruined If it had to be conducted as you gentlemen of the bar practice your calling. "We have a great advantage over you. for you in your cases are subjected tn the extremest Dublicity, while we In our eases have the utmost concealment. Just suppose that in our cases we had a judge who knew as much as or more than we did presiding: over our actions and, worse than that, had another physician, whose interests were not ours, watching and criticising us at every step and blazoning every error that we mude. Dear me, such a prospect as that would frighten the best physician who ever lived the moment he entered a sick room, and yet that condition is just what you men of the law have to face in every case that you try. "What sort of a figure would a lawyer cut floundering around in court without any knowledge* of his case? But a physician can flounder mentally in a sick room without a second person being the wiser, though the patient may suffer; but, then, "dead men tell no tales.' "Under such circumstances of doubt, ?*-'-u Iffnnronnd tVlp nhVfU WUlt'U 10 UOUCUI/ letlViui.Wf ?... r w cian can look wise, put something into the patient's stomach, go to his office, decide what line of experiment he will follow, return the next day, hoping to find that nature is working the cure that he doesn't know how to effect, and being ready and willing to take all of the credit that comes his way. "Why, the very first thing that nurses are taught is to observe the utmost secrecy about doctor's blunders. If they told what they know there wouldn't be much confidence in physicians where they are heard. Ask a nurse of experience about this when you have the opportunity. "Yes, sir, I repeat-that the publicity and chance for criticism in your profession, if applied to medicine, would result in the discovery of a small amount of science as compared with the large amount of empiricism."? New York Herald. SULTAN OF 3ULU A 8PORT. He Likes to Race His Ponies Against Those of Our Officers. After three years of service as a surgeon of the United States army In the Philippines, Dr. E. R. Tenney of Kansas City, has returned to his home in that city. The sultan of Sulu, as described .by Dr. Tenney, is hardly the sort of potentate pictured in comic opera. He is a very ordinary individual, who lives in a very ordinary way and does about as all the rest of the Sulus do. "The sultan of Sulu assumes control over all the Moros." Dr. Tenney said, "but in reality he has no control over any but those who choose to follow. I met the sultan on several occasions and was treated very cordially by htm. He is not a man of great strength of character or intelligence, but possesses craft and cunning. The greatest man in the sultan's domain is Haji Butu, the prime minister. "I visited the sultan* in his home at Maibon, directly across the island of Sulu from the town of Jolo. It is a very ordinary house?nothing like a great palace?and only a little better than the average native home. He has four legal wives and a fine string of ponies. "His chief sport is to bring down his ponies and race them against the army officers' ponies, with such side attractions as spear dances, accompanied by gongs, tomtoms and native drums. These are the musical Instruments of the Sulus, for the Sulus are not a musical people like the Filipinos. "The sultan sometimes wears European clothes, and while he entertains his guests very nicely after his own fashion, he seldom gives a feast. The datos, or feudal lords, however, sometimes prepare feasts for their guests of sugars, fried banannas, rice cakes fried In cocoanut oil, with native chocolate as a beverage. The Sulus are Mohammedans, and they have no intoxicating beverages. They chew the betel nut, which blackens the teeth and takes the place of tobacco, and an Important part of a Sulu's outnt is a betel nut box, borne by a slave. The women are permitted to chew the betel nut after they are married, and they marry at from 14 to 18 years of age." ?Kansas City Star. The Elixer of Love.?It was one of the hottest days In July. Luncheon had been announced and the little mother took her seat at the table to attend to the wants of her two stalwart sons. Her head ached and the heat made appetite a thing out of the question, and so, possibly, she had not taken particular pains to make herself as attractive as she migfit. Both boys fell to with a keen enjoyment of their noonday meal. This the mother noted with gratification. "Does your luncheon taste good, Bobby?" she asked of the younger. "It couldn't help tasting good, when I can look into the face of such a fair and lovelv mamma." eailantly replied Bobby. ~ ? "Say, rather, such a wilted mamma, for she certainly isn't very fair today," laughed the little mother, though none the less pleased at her boy's compliment. "A little wilted, perhaps," chimed in the elder son, "but nevertheless a fair and lovely mamma.." "Gentlemen, I thank you for your gracious complements," responded the happy little Jgortian. "They* are more delightful than ocean breezes." "The "wilted" look had died aw?y. Roses bloomed in the pale cheek of the happy mother and she forgot lliat the day was hot and depressing.? Brooklyn Eagle.