Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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

ISSUED SEMI-WEEKLY. l. m. grist's sons, Publishers. I % csffamilg Jteujspper: dfor Jromotiott of the ^olitkat, JSorial, g^multural, and (gomroqrial gntyests of the feopte. {term9si"n"glk?coapyy ^te1 c4p^iance* ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, S. C., FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 1903. NO. 71. By WILL N. Copyright, 1902, by Harper Bros. All 1 CHAPTER XXI. HE following morning Pole rose before daylight and rode ejfcgKg to Darley. As he reached the Sgggj place the first rays of the sun were touching the slate covered spire of the largest church in town. He went to a public wagon yard and hitched his horse to one of the long racks. A mountain family be knew | slightly had camped in the yard, sleeping in their canvas covered wagon, and were making coffee over a little Are. Pole wanted a cup of the beverage, but he passed on into a grocery store across the street and bought a dime's worth of cheese and hardtack crackers. This was his breakfast He washed it down with a dipper of water from the street well and sat around the store chatting with the clerk, who was sprinkling the floor and sweeping and dusting the long room. The clerk was a redheaded young man with a short bristling mustache, and a suit of clothes that was too large for him. "Don't Mr. Craig stay around Fincher's warehouse a good deal?" Pole Asked as the clerk rested for a moment on his broom near him. "Mighty nigh all day long," was the reply. "Him an' Fincher's some kin, I think." "On his wife's side," said Pole. "1 want to see Mr. Craig. 1 wonder ef he'll be down thar this mornin'." "Purty apt" said the clerk. "Fincher's his best friend sence his bu'st up, an' they are mighty thick. I reckon he gits the cold shoulder at a lots o' places." "You don't say!" "An' of course be wants somewhar to go besides bome. In passln' I've seed 'im a-flgurln' several times at Pincher's desk. Tbey say be's got some notion o' workin' fer Fincber as bis bookkeeper." "Well, he'll have to make a llvln' some* way," said Pole. The clerk laughed significantly. "Ef It ain't already made," said he with a smile. Pole stood up. "I don't think that's . right," he said coldly. "Me nur you nur nobody hain't got no right to hint at what w.e don't know nothin' about. Mr. Craig may 'a' lost ever* cent he had." "In a pig's valise!" sneered the redheaded man. "I'd bet my hat he's got money?an' plenty of it, huh!" "Well, I don't know uotliin' about it," said Pole, still coldly. "An' what's more, Dunn, I ain't a-goin' about smirchln' any helpless inai's character nuther. Ef I knowed he had madv. by the bu'st, I'd talk different, but I don't know it." "Oh, I see which side you are on, Baker," laughed the clerk. "Folks are about equally divided. Half is fer 'im, an' half agin. But mark my words, Craig will slide out o' this town some day an' be heerd of after awhile a-gittin' started agin some'r's else. That racket has been worked to death all over the country." Pole carried the discussion 110 further. Half an hour passed. Customers were coming in from the wagon yard and examining the wares on the counters aud making slow purchases. The proprietor came in and let the clerk go to breakfast. Pole stood in the doorway looking up the street in the direction of Craig's residence. Presently he saw the ex-banker coming from the postoffice reading his mail. Pole stepped back into the store and let him go by; then he went to the door again and saw Craig go into Fincher's warehouse at the end of the next block of straggling, wooden buildings. Pole sauntered down the sidewalk in that direction, passing the front door of the warehouse without looking in. The door at the side of the house had a long platform before it, aud on it Fincher, the proprietor, was weighing bales of hay which were being unloaded from several wagons by the countrymen who were disposing of it. "Hello, Mr. Fincher!" Pole greeted him familiarly. "Want any help unloading" "Hello, Baker!" said Fincher, looking up from the hlankbook in which he was recording the weights. "No. I reckon they can bundle it all right." Fincher was a short, fat man, very bald and with a round, laughing face. He had known Pole a lung time and considered him a most amusing character. "U""' /!<> van fntmi mi IViIpV "Oh. ubout as common. I jest thought theui fellers looked sorter lightweight." The men on the wagon laughed as they thumped a hale of hay 011 to the platform. "You'd better dry up," one of them said. "We'll git the mayor to put you to work agin." "Well, he'll have to be quicker about It than he was the last time," said Pole dryly. Some one laughed lustily from behind a tall stuck of wheat in bags in the warehouse. It was Lawyer Trabue. He came round and picked up Fincher's daily paper, us be did every morning, and sat down and began to read It. "Now you are talkin'." he said. "Thar was more rest in that job, Pole, thun any you ever undertook. They ... -U.K.'* *.rw.L- ?? ten Uie you U1UII u nam a Fiucher luughed, as he closed his book and struck Baker with it playfully. "Pole was too tired to do that Job." he said. "He was born that way." "Say, Mr. Trahue," retaliated Pole, "did you ever heer how I got the best o" Mr. Fiucher in a chicken trade?" "I don't think I ever did, Pole," laughed the lawyer, expectantly. "How was it?" BANliLj + lRBEN, Au,h?.r^.t.rfcl,." ights reserved. "Oh, come oft, don't go over that again," said Fincher, hushing. "It wis this away," said Pole, with a broac.. wholesome grin. "My cousin, Bart Wilks, was runnin' the restaurant under the car shed about two yeer ago. " i a -x tie was a new uuuu ui iue uusiucso, an' one day he had a awful rush. He got a telegram that a train load o' passengers had missed connection at Chattanooga an' would have to eat with him. He was powerful rattled, runnln' round like a dog after Its tail. He knowed he'd have to have a lot o' fryIn' chickens, an' he couldn't leave the restaurant, so he axed me ef I'd take the money an' go out In town an' buy 'em fer 'lm. I consented, an' struck Mr. Flncher, who was sellin' sech truck then. He 'lowed, you know, that 1 Jest wanted one, or two at the outside, fer my own use, so when I seed a fine coop out In front an' axed the price of 'em he kinder drawed on his beerd till his mouth fell open an' studied how he could make the most out o' me. After awhUe he said, 'Well, Pole, I'll make 'e?n 10 cents apiece ef I pick 'em, an' 15 ef you pick 'em.' I sorter skeerd the chickens around an' seed thar was two or three tiny ones hidin' under the big ones, an' I seed what he was up to, but 1 was ready fer Mm. 'All right,' 6es I, 'you pick 'em.' Thar was two or three loafers standin' round an' n'l In iirrho/1 Q t mo tvhfin Mr lucj ci 11 iauguvu uv u?v > MVM Fincher got down over the coop an* finally ketched one about the size of a robin an' hauled it out. 'Keep on a-pickin',' ses I, an' he made a grab fer one a little bigger an' handed it up to me. Then he stuck his hands down in his pockets, dorn' his best to keep from laughin'. The gang yelled then, but I wasn't done. 'Keep on a-pickin',' ses I. An' he got down agin. An', sir, I got that coop at about 4 cents apiece less'n he'd paid fer 'em. He tried to back, but the gang wouldn't let 'lm, It was the cheupest lot o' chickens I ever seed. I turned the little ones out to fatten and made Wilks pay me the market price all round fer the bunch." "I'll be bound you made some'n' out of it," said Trabue. "Fincher, did you ever heer how that scamp tuck in every merchant on this street about two yeer agoV" "Never heerd anything except his owin' 'em all," said Fincher, with a laugh. "I could put 'im in the penitentiary fer it," affirmed the lawyer. "You know about that time thar was a powerful rivalry goin' on among the storekeeuers. They was movin' heaven an' earth to sell the'r big stocks. Well, one of the spryest in the lot. Joe Gaylord, noticed that Pole was powerful popular with mountain folks, an' he made 'im a proposition, bindin* 'im down to secrecy. He proposed to give Pole 10 per cent commission on all the goods he'd he'p sell by bringin' customers in the store. Pole hesitated beca'se, he paid, they might tind it out, un' Joe finally agreed that all Pole would have to do was to fetch 'em in, give the wink, an' him an' his clerks would do the rest. It worked mighty slick fer awhile, but Pole noticed that very often the folks he'd fetch in wouldn't be pleased with the goods an' prices an' ud go trade sonie'r's else. Then what do you think the scamp didV He went to every store in town an' made a secret contract to git 10 per cent on all sales, an' he had the softest snap you ever liecrd of. He'd simply hang on to a gang from the country, whether he "In that thar little lump gold or notT" kuowed 'em or uot, uu' foller 'em nrouiid till tbey bought: then he'd walk up an' rake ill his part" "I got left once." said Pole, laughing with the others. "One gang that I stuck to all duy went over to Melton an' bought." "Well, the merchants caught on after awhile an' stopped hiiu." said Trabue, "but he made good money while he was at it. They'd 'a* seut Mm up fer It ef it hadu't been sech a good joke on 'eui" "1 don't know about that," replied Pole thoughtfully. "1 was doin' all I agreed, an' ef they could afford to pay 10 per cent to anybody they mought as well 'a' paid it to me. 1 drawed trade to the whole town. The cigars an' whisky 1 give away amounted to u lot. I've set up many a night tellin' them mossbacks tales to make 'em laugh." "Well, ef you ever git Into any trouble let me know," said Trabue as be rose to go. "I'll defend you at half price. You'd be a sight o' help to a lawyer. I'll be hanged If I ever seed a better case 'an you made out In the mayor's court, an' you hadn't a thing to back It up with nuther." The hay was unloaded and the wagons driven away. Flncher stood eying Pole with admiration. "It's a fact," he said. "You could 'a' made some'n' out o' yore'se'f If you'd 'a' been educated an' had a showin'." Pole Jerked his thumb over bis shoulder at Craig, who was standing in the front door looking out into tne street "Everybody don't git a fair showln' Id this world. Mr. FIncher," he said. "That man Craig hain't been treated right." The jovial expression died out of the merchant's face, and be leimed against the door Jamb. "You are right thar," he said?"dead right He's been mighty unlucky and bad treated." Pole grasped the brim of his massive bat aud drew It from his shaggy bead. "It makes me so all fired mad sometimes. Mr. FIncher, to beer folks a-runnin' that man down that I want to fight I ain't no religious man myse'f, but 1 respect one, an' I've always put him down in my book as a good man." "So've I." said the merchant, and he looked toward the subject of their conversation and called out, "Craig, oh, Craig, come back heer a minute." Only, nut nn hlo hot- onrt atflrerf flt thfl ground. He made a gesture as if of protest, but refrained from speaking. "What's wanted?" Craig came down to them. He was smoking a cigar and wore a comfortable look, as if he had been fighting a bard but successful fight and now heard only random shots from a fleeing enemy. "You ain't a candidate fer office," laughed Fincber, "but nearly all men like to know they've got friends. This chap beer's been standln* up fer you. He says it makes him mad to hear folks talk agin you." "Oh. it's Baker!" exclaimed the exbanker. shaking bands with Pole and beaming on him. "Well, I don't know a man I'd rather have for a friend," he said smoothly. Pole tossed bis bead and looked straight into the speaker's eye. "I'm fer human Justice. Mr. Craig," he said, "an* I don't think folks has treated you right. What man Is tbar that don't uow an' then make mistakes, sir? You've always bad means, an' I never was anything but a pore mountain boy, but I've always looked on you as a good man, a law abldin' man, an' I don't like to beer folks try to blame you fer what another man done. When you had plenty, I never come nigh yon, beca'se I knowed you belonged to one life an' me another, but now you are flat o' yore back, sir, I'm yore friend." Craig's face beamed. jle pulled hla Kla nunc Ho nnoH "I'm glad there are men In the world like you, Baker," he said. "I say I'm glad, and I mean it." Fineher had begun to look over the figures In his book and walked to the front. "Oh, my friendship ain't wuth nothln'," said Pole. "I know that. I never was In the Bhape to he'p nobody, but I know when a man's treated right or wrong." "Well, If you ever need assistance and I can help you, don't fall to call on me." Craig spoke with a tone of sincerity. Pole took a deep breath and lowered his voice, glancing cuutiously into the house, as if fearful of being overheard. "Well, I do need advice, Mr. Craig," he said?"not money nor nothlu' expensive. But I've laid awake night after night wishin' 'at I could run on some man of experience that I could ax fer advice an' that I could trust. Mr. Craig. I'll be blamed of I don't feel like tellln* you some'n' that never has passed my lips." Craig stared in Interested astonishment. "Well, you can trust me, Baker." he snid. "and. If I can advise you. why. I'll do it with pleasure." There was a cotton compress near by, with its vast sheds and platforms, and Pole looked at It steadily. He thrust his hand into his punts pocket and kept It there for a full minute; then he shook his head, drew out his hand and said: "1 reckon I won't bother you today. Mr. Craig. Some daj* ?*11 rt Irt f Aii>n n n' tnll won hnf" 1 II LULUC III IU? LI ULi tVll JVU) UUV Pole looked at the sun. "I reckon I'd better be goin'." "Hold on!" Craig caught Pole's arm. The ex-banker was a natural man. Despite his recent troubles he had his share of curiosity, and Pole's manner and words had aroused It to unwonted activity. "Hold on," he said. "What's your hurry? I've got time to spare if you have." Pole hung his head for a moment in silence; then he looked the old man in the face. "Mr. Craig," he began in even a lower voice, "do you reckon thar's any gold in them mountains?" Pole nodded to the blue wave in the east. Craig was standing near a bale of cotton, and he sat down on it, first parting the tails of his long, black coat. "1 don't know; there might be," he said, deeply interested and yet trying to appear indiffereut. "There is plenty of it in the same range farther down about Dalonega." Pole had his hand in the right pocket of his rough Jean trousers. "Is thar anybody in this town that could tell a piece o' gold ef they seed it?" he asked. "Oh. a good many, I reckon." said Craig, a steely beam of excitement In his unsteady eye. "I can myself. I spent two years in the gold mines of California when I was a young man." "You don't say! I never knowed that." Pole had really heard of that fact, but his face was straight. He had managed to throw into It a most wonderful blending of fear and overeautiousness. "Oh, yes; I've had a good deal of experience in such things." "You don't say!" Pole was looking toward the compress again. Craig laughed out suddenly and put his hand on Pole's shoulder with a friendly, downward stroke. "You can trust me. Baker," he said persuasively, "and it may be that I could be of assistance to you." There was something like an actual tremor of agitation in Pole's rough hand as he drew his little nugget from its resting place at the bottom of bis pocket With a deep, indrawn breath L- * '* r'folfr ??To fhat thnr lit ue uuuueu 11 iw -"& ? ? ? tie lump gold or not?" he asked. Craig started visibly as bis eyes fell on the piece of gold. But be took It Indifferently and examined It closely. "Where did you run across that?' he asked. "I want to know ef It's the puore thing," answered Pole. Craig made another examination, obviously to decide on the method he would apply to a situation that claimed all bis interest "I think it Is," he said?"In fact 1 know It is." Po!e took It.eagerly, thrust it back into his pocket and said: "Mr. Craig, I know whar tbar's a vein o' that stufT twenty yards thick, ruunln' clean through a mountain." "You doV" Craig actually paled under his suppressed excitement. "Yes. sir. an' I kin buy it lock, stock and barrel, fer five hundred dollars. The feller that owns It ud Jump at It like a duck on a June bug. That's my secret. .Mr. Craig. I hain't one dollar to my name, but from this day on I'm goln' to work bard an' save my money till I own that property. I'm a-goln' down to Atlanta next week, whar people don't know me. an' have a lump of It bigger 'n this examined, an1 ef It's gold I'll own the land sooner or later." Craig glanced to the rear. "Come back here," he said. Opening a door at the end of the warehouse, he led Pole into a more retired spot where they would be free from possible inter ruption. Then In a most persuasive voice he continued: "Baker, you need a man of experience with you In this. Besides, if there is as much of?of that stuff as you say there Is. you wouldn't be able to use all you could make out of It. Now. It might take you a long time to get up the money to buy the land, aud there Is no telling what might happen In the meantime. I'm in a close place, but I could raise five hundred dollars or even a thousand. My friends still stick to me. you know. The truth Is, Baker. I'd like the best In the world to be able to make money to pay back what some of my friends have lost through me." Pole bung his bead. He seemed to be speaking half to himself and on the verge of a smile. when be replied. "I'd like to see you pay back some of 'em. loo, Mr. Craig." Craig laid his band gently on Pole's * boulder. "How about lettln' me see the place. Baker?" he said. Pole hesitated, and then be met the ex-banker's look with the expression of a man who has resigned himself to a iranprniio Imnillnp. evv.v? x??? "Well, some day when you are a-passin' my way stop In, an* I'll"? "How far Is it?" broke In Craig, pulling his beard with unsteady fingers. "A good fifteen miles from heer," said Pole. Craig smiled. "Nothln' but an easy ride," he declared. "I've got a horse doin' nothing in the stable. What's to hinder us from going today?this morning?as soon as I can go for my horse?" "I don't keer," said Pole resignedly. "But could you manage to go without anybody knowln' wbar you was bound fer?" "Easy enough." Craig laughed. He was really pleased with Pole's extreme cautiousness. "Then you mought meet me out thar some'r's." "A good idea, a good Idea, Baker." "Do you know whar the Duektown road crosses Holly creek at the foot o' Old Pine mountain?" "As well as I know where my house Is." Pole looked at the sun. shading his eyes with his hand. "Could you be thar by 11 o'clock?" "Easy enough, Baker." "Well, I'll meet you. I'm a-goin' to trust you, Mr. Craig, an' when you see the vein ef you think thar's enough money In it fer two?but we can see about that later." "All right, Baker. I'll be there. But say," as Pole was moving away, "you are a drinking man and get a little off sometimes. You haven't said anything Ibout this where anybody"? Pole laughed reassuringly. "I never L- <1wint annntrli tn fin Hint ua > e uccn ui u?? vi?vUD.. w v.v Mr. Craig, an', what's more, I never will be." to be continued. The Horse Didn't Look Well.? From the mountains of Camden, Me., comes a story of a Philadelphia merchant who has a summer cottage In that village and who wished to exchange a lively horse which he owned with a French Canadian, who had a more gentle animal, which women and children could drive. The Frenchman was willing to trade, but for some reason insisted upon repeating to the visitor that the local horse did not "look" so well as the one belonging to the Philadelphia man. An exchange satisfactory to both parties was eventually made, and the first time this visitor's wife took the new horse out for a drive she discovered that the beast was as blind as a mole. A few days later, when the rustleator met the Frenchman, he said: "See here, you rascal! that horse you swapped with me for mine was stone blind. Why didn't you tell me of It al the time?" "Ah'm bin try tell you all Ah'm blr know how fer to tell. Ah'm bin sdy my horse was no look lak your horse? say so seex, nine tains. Ah'm no bir blam' eef you no hear me."?Philadelphia Public Ledger. Pisttllaneou# Reading. IN THE NAME OF THE LAW! Strange Happenings In Ebenezer and Catawba Townships. A mere mention was sent this paper ' thin morning of a trouble which occurred yesterday afternoon between State Constable Thomasson and the family of Gabe Bowden, colored. On account of the charges and counter charges it is yet Impossible to give a very clear account of the details, but so near as possible the story, as related by the principals on both sides, Is as follows: The Negro says that Constable Thomasson, accompanied by W. H. Cowan, came to the house in search of a missine doe. and that he entered the house, got Into a wordy row with Bowden's wife, cursed her and was cursed back, and that he slapped the old woman down; that when this happened the girl grabbed up the first thing she could lay hands upon and struck him a blow on the head; that the constable turned on the girl and, with his heavy stick, struck her several times, and that Mr. Cowan then ran in the house and got Thomasson to quit; that Thomasson then arrested her and took her In his buggy to the magistrate's house, and that on the road he struck her repeatedly: that a Negro man named Avery saw this and asked Thomasson what he was doing it for, whereupon the constable drew his pistol and shot at Avery five times. Constable Thomasson did not wish to talk about the matter, but stated that he had intended searching Bowden's house Saturday night, but for a good reason did not do so, and that he had a warrant to do so. The matter of the dog was simply a blind used to find out where Bowden lived. He said he was resisted from the first and that the girl struck him a murderous blow with a large stick, which had a heavy metal band on it. He has a bad looking cut about two Inches long over his temple. He admitted that when the girl struck him and he was sick and stunned from tne blow he struck her or struck at her with his stick. He arrested her and locked her up in Magistrate Anderson's crib. He said that on the way a Negro named Avery ran out with a rock in one hand and a pistol in the other and halted the buggy and that he at once drew and began firing and made him run. Today Mr. W. M. Dunlap, acting for the Bowdens secured a change of venue to this township, and brought the girl before Magistrate B.eckhutp to nn.'wer to the charge for which she was arrested by Thomas son. No om appeared against her and that case was dismissed. Immediately lh?\v swore out a warrant for assault and battery of a high and aggravated nature against Thomasson, who appeared before Magistrate Beckham and was released under a $200 bond. Then Thomasson swore out a counter warrant against the girl, charging her with assault with Intent to kill, and the girl made her bond of $300 also. Now here appears a disagreeable state of affairs, which came out somewhat in connection with the whole affair. When Magistrate R. M. Anderson, of Ebenezer township came to town this morning, In the matter of the aDOVe cnunge 01 veiiuc, iic niio UJ . ed by the city police and taken before the mayor on two charges, that of open drunkenness and disorderly conduct. He was fined >5 on the first and $12.50 on the second charge. The casqp, which are exciting a great deal of interest, will come up before Magistrate Beckham of this city, in a day or two. ?Rock Hill letter of August 31, to the News and Courier. BESIEGED BY MOUNTAIN _I0NS. Terrible Experience of a Man In the San Gabriel Section, Cal. J. B. Camp, who resides at Brown's Flat, in southern California, has Just passed through the terrible experience of being besieged for four days and nights in a cabin in the Upper San Gabriel country by four starving mountain lions. Camp's only companion was a burro, and his only means of defence a small revolver and a limited quantity of ammunition. Camp had gone to the mountain cabin to prepare it for the reception of several hunters, and during his stay alone had heard the cry of wildcats and the long blood-chilling screech of panthers. He had not caught sight of any of the animals until one day when he wus cutting away some brush on the trail near his cabin he heard a twig snap in front of him. Looking up he beheld a huge lion right in the centre of the trail, switching its tail menacingly. Camp was struck dumb with terror, but Instinctively his hand sought his hip pocket, in which reposed a pistol. As he drew it another lion walked out of the brush, and behind it were two smaller, possibly cubs. Blazing blindly away with the popgun in his i hands, Camp created a momentary diversion that allowed him to reach his cabin door. Rushing inside, he barred the door and reloaded his pistol, determined to frighten away the brutes if possible. As he looked out he saw i his burro, A1 Borak, snorting and tug. ging at his tether, one of the tawny Viat'incr aironfiv hpeun to sneak up on him. With a wild plunge the burro broke loose, and rushed for shelter, one . of the lions after him. Camp opened the door just In time to admit the teri rorized little fellow, who shot in as if > launched from a catapult. Throwing his weight against the door. Camp barred it again. He had i plenty of provisions and decided to re main quiet for a time, hoping the lions . would go away. Knowing they are usi ually cowardly brutes, Camp was at a loss to account for their daring action except on the theory that it might be a pair with their cubs. He made the burro comfortable and was glad of his , company and then took a look to see if the brutes were still there. They were i watching. They refused to vacate i they knew their game was snared in a trap of his own making and right In the brush outside of Camp's enclosure the ] quartette of cats camped. All day Sun- i day at least one was in sight and Camp I decided to lie low. That night was a i night of horrors. i On the fourth morning Camp cau- 1 tiously peered out. The lions were not i in sight and he hurriedly saddled up A1 Borak, mounted him and turned the ] honest little beast toward civilization, i He needed no urging. Camp was congratulating himself on his escape when 1 a piercing screech was heard from the ] troll HohlnH tho hriitaa hail dlflpnvpr. i ed his departure and were in hot pur- ] suit. Realizing his peril and that safety lay only in beating the lions to civilization, Camp accepted the hard terms. Terrified beyond control, the little burro for once in his life galloped like a race horse. Never before and probably never again will the descent from Brown's Flats to Lordsburg be made in such time as Camp made it. When he reached Lordsburg he was exhausted from fright and the hard ride.?San Francisco Examiner. UNCLE SAM IS PARTICULAR. Navy Is no Longer Reformatory For Incorrigibles. Uncle Sam's navy is no longer a home for incorrigible boys. Time was when the troubled parent with a boy on his hands over whom he nad no control was always advised "to send him to the navy, they'll take the starch out of him," but that mistaken idea is slowly vanishing now, for Uncle Sam, after years of silence, is showing by the fruits of a system which he Inaugurated long ago that that Is not the kind of boy he is looking for. The father with such a boy who goes to a navy recruiting office and tries to force his son Into the service against the latter"s own wishes finds only disappointment awaiting him there. The recruiting officer has his eye on the boy from the time he enters the office until he leaves and It is largely the observation of this scrutiny that determines whether or not the applicant is to be accepted. If it is the parent who is most anx ious to have the enlistment and the son who shows by his manner that he does not favor the parental enthusiasm. if the boy shows signs of vulgarity and ill-breeding, which it is evident the parent hopes the service will eradicate, there is trouble ahead for the applicant. Uncle Sam wants boys for his ships who want to go Into the navy of their own accord. If the boy shows the slightest signs of unwillingness, whether by word or action, the officer makes a note of it. Almost the first question asked the applicant Is, "Do you want to enlist?" In most cases the question is only one of form, but sometimes, when parental pressure has been brought to bear on an unwilling boy, he explodes all prearranged plans by answering "No" at the crucial moment. At other times, even when an affirmative answer is given, it is evident to the officer that it is an unwilling one. Only refusal meets such cases. The officer does not always give the true reason, but generally finds objection in the boy's physical condition. The reason. however, is that Uncle Sam has gone out of the reformatory business. True, he does not discourage the taking of boys who have been averse to school and books, boys who have given their parents some concern about their future, but who are not really bad boys, for such boys often make the best sailors. But real lncorrlgibles he has no use for. He is looking for boys who are ambitious to be admirals some day, and he offers them every Inducement and advantage to attain that rank. The recent enlistments at the Masonic Temple recruiting station'shows that he Is having no trouble in finding the boys he is looking for. Detachments of lads from good homes In Chicago and the surrounding country were sent east every two weeks and when recruiting begins again In the fall the local office ( has names of many boys who will be sent with the first details. I Boys between the ages of fifteen and s seventeen years can enlist until they become of age. When the apprentice Is first received on board ship he Is furnished free of cost with an outfit of r clothing not exceeding In value the s sum of $45. His first pay Is $9 per t month. After making his first cruise, i If qualified, he Is advanced to a class g and then his pay Is $15 per month. His j next advancement Is to that of first- j class apprentice, with pay of $21 per t month. ( Ex-apprentices are given prefenence ( in the selection of petty officers with i pay ranging from $30 to $70 per month i and ration. Those having a good rec- o ord and showing marked ability are t eligible to appointment as warrant of- s fleers, a position carrying the pay of j from $1,200 to $1,800 per annum, with t retirement at the age of sixty-two a years on three-quarters pay for life, j This Is a much better outlook than c some of our large business houses offer to clerks and other employees. ( Warrant officers not over thirty-five v years of age are eligible to appoint- j ment to the rank of commissioned of- ? fleers, after having served six years as | warrant officers. Commissioned officers s are in line of appointment to all the { higher grades of the naval service, and j thus it Is that some apprentice boy j now may be our first admiral some i day. Boys who join the navy with the ^ Intention of rising to the top are al- . ways advised to go to the naval school or take instruction In other institutions that will enable them to advance. But It is perfectly possible for a boy to s start at the very bottom and rise to 1< the topmost notch on his owr efforts and abilities. Many amusing: stories are tol 1 by the officers who handle the raw -ecruits, among whom are always some boys who know so little about thing's naval that they cannot even swim. The most ' Interesting tales, perhaps, are told by the officers in charge of the recruiting stations. One instance thai, is tra ditional at the Chicago office (ecurred about two years ago. A boy on a farm, way up in Wisconsin, whs had never seen the sea, became so enthused with a sailor's life that he left his peaceful country home on the back of a donkey. The Journey was long and t.resome, but he did not turn back, nor swerve from his purpose to come to Chicago and enlist. It took him five da} s to get here and when he arrived he sold bis lonkey, so he would have no means of setting home, and then asked e policeman the location of the .Mason .c Temple. He was eagerly accepted and made up a bunch of thirty recruits that started for the east the next lay. A more pitiful case Is that (fa boy who came here from Germany with his father to earn enough to bring the rest >f the family to America. Th?y were tiere but a few months, when tie father took sick and died, leaving the son penniless and dependent on Ills own resources In a strange country. He tnocked around the city for nearly a /ear, getting barely enough to live on, md finally Joined the navy in despera:ion. A mother and five brothers and sisters await his return In Ihe old country. One Chicago mother made a visit to he training station at New] art recently before her son should lsave on ifs first foreign cruise. The boy happens to be very proud of his little nother, and she, in her earnestness to spend every minute in tne company 01 ler son while she had a chaice, sat A-lth him In the dining hall. The folowing Is an extract from the llrst let:er she received from him after her re;urn home: "The boys came up to me tie evenng you left here and said: 'Hully gee, )ut you got a fine little mother; and say. wasn't it great?her eati lg with is?gee whiz. I wish I had a mother ike that.' Maybe I don't feel proud of ny little mother."?Chicago Chronicle. EVANS TALK8 POLITICS. Thinks Cleveland Is the Only Man Who Can Beat Rooseveh. Ex-Oovernor John Gary E\ans re;urned home yesterday from a four veeks vacation spent with friends in iVaterbury, Conn. The governor was seen this morning where he was enraged with his business of a month's iccumulatlon. He spoke pleas antly of lis trip and affairs in general, between >xlt8 from one room to another, and in he moments between wrlti ig and -eading letters. "How is New England?" the reporter nqulred. "The finest place in the world," the rovernor replied suavely, "tie best ilace I ever saw for a man to ive, ex:eptlng of course, our southlaid. "It is cold ap there though," he went >n, "We were wearing overccats and " a*. a ?T k?f lining uy me ure nueii x uu.i?u u; he Journal, that the thermometer was ipplng the 90's down here. Th'jre were i few warm days, of course, b it nothing like the coolest you have ht.d here." "Run across any politics u? there, fovernor?" "Oh well, I haven't much tim i to talk politics; but I tell you this; il Grover Cleveland is nominated by the Demo:rats, he will carry all of New England ?every state?and New Yoik also. They've got It in for Rooserelt up here, and Cleveland stands high." "How is It that Roosevelt is disiked?" "They can't place him; no one can ell where he is, he's too uncertain, t is different with Cleveland.' "Will Grover be the nominee?" "Hasn't the ghost of chan<e," was he prompt reply; the south and west von't stand him. I'm no Cleveland )artlsan, but he is the only man who an beat Roosevelt" "Who will be nominated?" "I think rudge Parker will." "How does he stand?" "He is falry popular up there, but nothing like Cleveland." "How about the Tillman free pass n"?But the governor had locl ed him leir in nis pnvwe unite wuu a vucuv. -Spartanburg Herald. Unofficial Diplomatist.?The only nan who, single-handed and without my official standing or evert legislate position, has persuadc-d tie Britsh government to the taKlrg of a meat step of European importance Is dr. Frederick Greenwood, the great ournalist. This was the purchase of he Suez canal shares. In 1176. Mr. Jreenwood was editor of the I all-Mall lazette, a post he held from :he first >sue in 1867 of the paper till 1880 and n that capacity learnt that the Khedive f Egypt was allowing his shares in he Suez canal to be sold to a French yndlcate. Instead of publishing the mportant news, he patriotically took it o the secretary of state for foreign iffairs, the Earl of Derby, and advised dm to purchase the shares oi behalf if the government. Lord Derby doubtd the news, as the British consul at ?airo knew nothing of It. Mr. Greenvood insisted It was true, r.one the ess. Eventually a telegram was sent o the British consul; the prime minster. then Mr. Disraeli, was seen, and loon negotiations were opened and the jurchase completed. Roughly Britain )ald something over four millions sterlng for the shares which now bring n upwards of ?800,000 a year, besides riving her enormous power, politically. ?Pearson's Weekly. Mf The crying need of the early norning hour is a latchkey with an dectrlc light on one end of It and a ceyhole with a magnet attachod.