ISSUED l. M. grist's sons, Publishers. J % nth or two. But I have always been able to run away from him. He has been growing more importunate of late, so I bought a dagger that very daj' and had it not one hour too soon." With this she drew out a gleaming little weapon that flashed in the rays of the candle. This was trouble In earnest for me, and I showed it very plainly. Then Jane timidly put her hand In mine for the first time in her life and murmured: "We will be married, Edwiu, If you wish, before we return from France." She was glad to fly to me to save nerself from Heury. and I was glad even to he the lesser of two evus. As to whether my two friends inet or not that day at Bridewell I cannot say. but I think they did. They had In some way come to an understanding hat lightened both their hearts before Mary left for France, and this had t>een their only possible opportun'ty. Jane and 1 were always taken Into their confidence on other occasions, but as to this meeting. If nuy there was. we have never been told a word. My belief Is that the meeting was contrived by Wolsey upon a solemn promise from Brandon and Mary never to reveal it. and if. so tliey have sacredly kept their word. On the 13th of August, 1514, Mary Tudor, with her goldeu hair falling over lier shoulders, was married at Greenwich to Louis de Vnlois, De Lougueville acting as bis French majesty's proxy. Poor, fair Proserpina! Note.?Maidens only were married with their hair down. It was "the sacred token of maidenhood."?Editor. CHAPTER XX. DOWN INTO FRANCE. O it came to pass that Mary was married unto Louis and ^ went down into France. & -^ [Again the editor takes the liberty of substituting Hall's quaint account of Mary's journey to France.] Then when all things were redy for the conueyaunce of this noble Ladye, the kyng her brotligr In the moneth of Auguste. and the xV daye, with the quene ills wife and his sayde sister and al the court came to Douer and there taryed, for the wynde was troblous and the wether fowle, In so muohe that shippe of the kynges called the I-ibeck of IXC. tonne was dryuen a shore before Sangate and there brase & of VI C. men scantely escaped IliC and yet the most part of them were hurt with the wrecke. When the wether was fayre, then al her wardrobe, stable, end riches was shipped, and such as were appoyncted to geve their attendaunce on her as the duke of Norfolke. the Marques of Dorset, the - Bysshop of Durham, the Earle of Surrey, the lorde Delawar, sir Thomas Bulleyn and many other knights, Squycrs. gentlemen & ladies, al these went to shippe and the sa.vde ladye toke her leaue of the quene in the castell of Douer. and the king brought her to the sea syde, and kissed her, and betoke her to GOD and the fortune of the sea and to the gouernaunce of the French king her husband. Thus at the hower of foure of the clock in the morenynge thys fayre ladye toke her shippe with al her noble compaignic: and when they had sayled a quarter of the see. the wynde rose and seuered some of the shlppes to Cayles, and some In Flaunders and her shippe with great difflcultie to Bulleyn. and with great leopardy at the entrying of the hauen, for the master ran the shippe hard on shore, but the botes were redy and receyucd this noble ladye. and at the landyng Sir Christopher Garnysha stode in the water and toke her in his armes, and so caryed her to land, where the Duke of Vandosme and a Cardynall with many estates receyucd her, and her ladies, and weiconimed all the noble men into the countrey. and so the quene and all her trayne came to Bulleyn and ther rested, and from thence she remoued by dyuerse lodgynges tyll she came all most within it* ?" Kauv.ln tho fnrrpflt rtf Ill llllllV) Ui nuujit wvo.. ...V Arders. and ther kynge Loyes vppon a greate courser met her, (which he so longe desired) but she toke her way rlghte on, not stepping to conurse. Then he returned to Abuyle by a secret waye, & Bhe was with greate triumphe. pJ?cesslon & pagiantes receyued into the toune of Abuyle the VIII day of October by the Dolphin, which receyued her with greate honor. She was appeareilled in cloth of slluer. her horse was trapped in goldsmythes work very rychly. After her followed xxxvl ladies al ther palfreys trapped with crymsyn veluet. embraudered: after the folowed one charyott of cloth of tyssue. the seconde clothe of golde and the third Crymsyn veluet embraudered with the kynges armes & hers, full of roses. After them folowed a great nomber of archers and then wagons laden with their stuf. Greate was the riches In plate, iuels. money, and hangynges that this ladye brought into France. The Moday beyng the daye of Sayncte Denyce, the same kynge Leyes tnaried the lady Mary in the greate church of Abuyle bolhc appareled in goldesmythes woorke. After the masse was done ther was a greate banket and fest and the ladyes of England highly entreteyned. The Tewesdaye beyrig the x daye of October all the Englishmen except a fewe that wer officers with the sayde quene were discharged whlche was a great sorowe for theim, for some had serued her longe In the hope of preferment and some that had honest romes left them to serue her and now they wer out of serulce. which caused the to take thought In so much, some dyed by way returning, and aome fell mad. but ther was no- remedy. AftfL Lhs. English- lordes had done, ther commission tHe French kynge wylled^the to take no lenger payne & so gaue to thelm good rewardcs and they toke ther leaue of the quene and returned. Then the Dolphyn of Fraunce called Frauncys duke of Valoys. or Fraunceya d'Angouleme. caused a solempne lustes to be proclaymed. which shoulde be kept In Parys In the moneth of Noueber next eneuyng. and while al these thlnges were prepearyng, the Ladye Mary, the V. daye of Noueber. then beylng Sondaye was With greate solempnitee crowned Queen of Fraunce In the monasterye of Saynct rjenvee. and the Lorde DolDhyn. who was young, but very toward, al the season held the crowune ouer her hed, because It was of great ^yalght, to her greuaunce. Mme. Mary took her time, since a more deliberate Journey bride never made to waiting bridegroom. She was a study during this whole period, weeping and angry, by turns. She, who had never known a moment's Illness in ail tier days, took to her bed upon two occasions froiu sheer antipathetic nervousness. uinl would rest her head .lane's breast and cry out Jlttle, tut if articulate prayers to God that aba might not !:ill the man who was her husband when they should meet. When we met the king about a league this side of Abbeville, and when Mary beheld bim wltb the shadow of doatb upon his brow, she took hope, for she knew he would be but putty in her hands, so manifestly weak was he, mentally and physically. As he came up she whipped her horse and rode by him at a gallop, sending me back with word that he must not be so ardent; that he frightened her. poor, timid little thing, so afraid of?nothing In the world! This shocked the French courtiers. and one would think would have offended Louis, but be simply grinned from ear to ear. showing his yellow fangs, and said whimperingly: "Oh, the game Is worth the trouble. Tell her majesty I wait at Abbeville." The old king had ridden a horse to meet his bride in order that he might appear more gallant before her, but a litter was waiting to take him back to Abbeville by a shorter route, aud they were married again lu person. Again a quotation from Hall Is substituted: Mondaye the .vl dnye of Noueber, ther the sayde quene was reccyued Into the cytee of Parys after the order thar foloweth. First the garde of the cytee met her with oute Sayncte Denyce al In coates of goldsmythes woorke with shlppes gylt, and after them mett her al the prestes and religious whlche were estemed to be .HIM. The quene was In a chyre coured about (but not ner ouer person; in wane clothe of golde. the horses that drewe it couered in clothe of golde. on her hed a coronal), al of greate perles, her necke and brest full of Iuels, before her wente a garde of Almaynes after ther fasclon, and after them al noblemen, as the Dolphyn, the Duke of Burbon, Carynalles, and a greate nomber of estates. Aboute her person rode the kynge's garde the which wer Scottes. On the morowe bega the lustes, and the quene stode so that al men might see her, and wonder at her beautie. and the kynge was feble and lay on a couche for weakenes. So Mary was twice married to Louis, and, although she was his queen fast and sure enough, she was not his wife. You may say what you will, but I like a fighting woman, one with a touch of the savuge In her when the occasion arises, one who can fight for what she loves as well as against what she hates. She usually loves as she fights?with all her heart So Mary was crowned and was now a queen and hedged about by the tinseled divinity that hedgeth royalty. It seemed thut she was climbing higher aud higher all the time from Brandon, but in her heart every day she was brought nearer to blm. There was one thing that troubled her greatly, and all the time. Henry had given his word that Brandon should he liberated as soon as Mary had left the shores of England, but we had heard nothing of this matter, although we had received several letters from home. A doubt of her brother, In whom she had little faith at best, made an ache at her heart which seemed at times likely to break?so she said. One night she dreamed that she had witnessed Brandon's execution, her brother standing by in excellent humor at the prank he was playing her. and it so worked upon her waking hours that by evening she was 111. At last I received a letter from Brandon, which had been delayed along the road, containing one for Mary. It told of his full pardon and restoration to favor, greater even than before, and her Joy was so sweet and quiet and yet so softly delirious that I tell you plainly It brought tears to my eyes, and I could not hold them back. The marriage, when once determined upon, had not cast her down nearly so deep as I had expected, aud soon she grew to be quite cheerful and happy. This filled me with regret, for I thought of how Brandon must suffer, and felt that her heart was a poor, flimsy thing to take tills trouble so lightly. 1 spoke to Jane about It, but she only laughed. "Mary Is all right," said she. "Do not fear. Matters will turn out better than you think, perhaps. You know she generally manages to have her own way In the end." "If you have any comfort to give, please give It. Jane. I feel most keenly for Brandon, heart tied to such a willful, changeable creature as Mary." "Sir Edwin Caskoden, you need not take the trouble to speak to me at all unless you can use language more respectful concerning my mistress. The queen knows what she is about, but It appears that you cannot see It I see It plainly though, although uo word has ever been spoken to me on the subject As to Brandon being tied to her, it seems to me she is tied to him and that he holds the reins. He could drive her into the mouth of purgatory." "Do you think so?" "I know it." I remained in thought a moment or two and concluded that she was right In truth, the time had come to me when I believed that Jane, with her good sense and acute discernment could not be wrong in anything, and I think so yet. So I took comfort on faith from her and asked, "Do you remember what you said should happen before we return to England?" Jane hung her head. "I remember." "Well?" Bho then pat her band In mine and mnrmured, "I am ready any time yon wish." Great heaven! I thought I should go out of my senses. She should have told me gradually. I bad to do something to express my exultation, so 1 walked over to a bronze statue of Bacchus, about my size?that is, height ?put my hat, which I had been carrying under my arm, on his head, cut a few capers in an entirely new and equally antic step, and then drew back and knocked that Bacchus down. Jane though^ I had gone stark mad, and her eyes grew big with wonder, but I walked proudly back to her uftei my victory over Bacchus and reassured her?with a few of Mary's message* that I bad still left over, If the truth roust be told. Then we made arrangements that resulted in our marriage next morning. Accordingly Queen Mary and one or two others went with us down to a little church, where, as fortune would have it, there was a little priest ready to Join together iri the holy bonds of wedlock little Jane and little me?everything so appropriate, yon see. I suppose in the whole world we couldn't have found another set of conditions so harmonious. Mary laughed and cried and laughed again, and clapped her hands over and over, and said it was "like a play wedding," and, as she kissed Jane, quietly slipped over her head a beautiful diamond necklace that was worth full ?10,000?aside, that is, from the millions of actual value because it came from Mary. "A play wedding" it was, and a play life it has been ever since. We were barely settled at court In Paris when Mary began to put her plans in motion and unsettle things generally. I could not but recall Henry's. sympathy toward Louis, for the young queen soon took It upon herself to make life a burden to "the Father of His People." and In that particular line I suppose she had ho equal in all the length and breadth of Christendom. I heartily detested King Louis, largely, I think, because of prejudice absorbed from Mary, but be was, In fact, a fairly good old man, and at times I could but pity him. He was always soft In heart and softer In head, especially where women were concerned. Take his crazy attempt to seize the Countess of Croy while he was yet Duke of Orleans, and bis Infatuation for the Italian woman, for whom he built the elaborate burial vault?much It must have comforted her! Then his marriage to dictatorial little Anne of Dnlffnnw Prvf nrhAm ho IndllPpd Pope Alexander to divorce him from the poor little crippled owlet Joan. In consideration of this divorce be had put Caesar Borgia, Pope Alexander's son, on his feet, financially and politically. 1 think he must have wanted the owlet back again before he was done with Anne, because Anne was a termagant and ruled blm with the heaviest rod of Iron she could lift. But this last passion, the flickering, sputtering flame of bis dotage, was the worst of all, both subjectively and objectively, both as to his senile fondness for the English princess and her Impish tormenting of him. From the flrst he evinced the most violent delight in Mary, who repaid it by holding him off and evading bim in u manner so cool, audacious and adroit that it stamped her queen of all the arts feminine and demoniac. Pardon me, ladies, if I couple; these two arts, but you must admit they are at times somewhat akin. Soon she eluded him so completely that for days he would not have a glimpse of her, while she was perhaps riding, walking or coquetting with some of the court gallants, who aided and abetted her In every way they could. He became almost frantic In pursuit of his elusive bride, and would expostulate with her, when he could catch her, and smile uneasily, like a man who is the victim of a practical joke of which he does not see or enjoy the point On such occasions she ?l-? Itt hJo fa aa thon trrfttr >V UUIU iUU^U IU Uio ittvv, kuvu 5. V augry?which was so easy for her to do ?and, I grieve to say, would sometimes almost swear at him lu a manner to make the pious though ofttimes lax vlrtued court ladies shudder with horror. She would at other times make sport of his youthful ardor and tell him In all seriousness that It was Indecorous for him to behave so and frighten her, a poor, timid little child, with his Impetuosities. Then she would manage to give him the slip, and be would go off and play a game of cards with himself, llrmly convinced in his own feeble way that woman's nature bad a tincture of the devil In It He was the soul of conciliatory kindness to the young vixen, but at times she would break violently Into tears, accuse him of cruelly mistreating her, a helpless woman and a stranger In his court, and threaten to go home to dear old England and tell her brother, King Henry, all about It and have him put things to right and redress her wrongs generally. In fact Bhe acted the part of Injured Innocence so perfectly that the poor old inai would apologize for the wrongs she Invented and try to coax her into a good humor. Thereupon she would weep more bitterly tban ever, grow hysterical and require to be carried off by ber women, when recovery and composure were usually instantaneous. Of course the court gossips soon carried stories of the quick recoveries to the king, an?l when he spoke to Mary of them aha put on her injured air again and turned the tables by upbraiding him for believing such calumnies about her, w?..j was so good to him and loved him ?-i dearly. TO BE CONTINUED. He Wai Competent Himself. Bobby's father was breaking the news to him. "How would you Jike to have a little brother, Bob?" he asked. "First rate," replied the youngster cheerfully. Then be reflected a minute. "No." he said slowly. "I guess, after all, I'd rather have a sister. I'm a boy myself, you know."< i Jttiscrtliinnnis itcadincj. 1 THE LIFE OF EGYPT. > How it is Preserved By the River Nile. According to recent explorations the Nile, the most remarkable of all rivers, is 4,200 miles long. The MississlpI pi is fifty miles longer. From the sea to Assuan, the first cataract, is 750 miles; from Assuan , to Khartum, the capital of the Sudan, , is 1,130 miles; Lake Victoria, the main^ , source, 18 2,285 miles nearer tne equa- ( I tor, In a region of perpetual rains, with , , a greater rainfall, probably, than oc- ( curs In any other section of the earth , where records are kept. The Albert , Nyanza Is the source of another , branch, and there are two great affluents In Abyssinia called the Blue Nile j and the Black Nile. In addition to these there are numerous lesser . streams and many springs, but the lake sources maintain the life of Egypt throughout the year with a sufficient supply of water to meet the exhaustion by evaporation in the atmosphere and absorption by the soil through the irrigation system. The fall of the Nile from Lake Victoria to tidewater is 3,675 feet. Khartum is 1,270 feet above the sea; the first cataract at Assuan is 330 feet; from that point to Cairo the fall is a trifle under five inches to the mile, and from Cairo to the sea it averages about one inch to the mile. The water has been gauged ever since history began. At Wady Haifa are "Nileometers," fixed by the engineers of the kings of the twelfth dynasty, 2300 B. C., and they show that . the highest water known in those days was twenty-tnree reei aDove me mgn- , est record of modern times. J In high water It takes fifty days for j a float to go from Lake Victoria to < the seu, which shows a current of about eighty-one miles a day, and in low water It takes ninety days for a float to make the Journey. The width of the river varies from . 300 feet to six miles, and averages t about 3,000 feet at mean high water. J The width of the valley of the Nile, , that Is the area between the mountains . that Inclose it. Is from fifteen to thirty miles In Egypt and from four to ten . miles in Nubia. The cultivated area , varies from a few feet on each bank to a width of nine miles on either side. . The delta is ninety miles wide. The area drained by the river is about 3,000,000 square miles. Richneas of the Nile Valley. , The unparalleled richness of the soli j of the Nile valley, which produces two , or three crops a year, Is due to the par- { tides of sediment brought down from the mountains, the hills and the tropi- ( cal jungles and deposited upon the sur- j face of the fields during the annual | inundation. This is far richer than ( any fertilizer that can be found. These . floods or Inundations come regularly, , and the farmers of the valley have ad- , Justed their lives and habits to them. They are as exact and arbitrary as our j seasons, as the sunshine of summer j and the snows of winter upon the Iowa ( farms. To equalize the distribution ( of the water among the farms the , whole country is divided by low cause- j ways of earth, which are also used as | roads, into tracts varying in size from , one to twenty acres, and the water , flows into them by ditches dug In the ] * T/vr.??U days ui muses K % the world. To extend the blessings of this river to a larger number of inhabitants, to Increase the cultivated area of the Nile valley, the great dam at Assouan, of whch you have doubtless read, and pf which I shall give you a fuller description In another letter, has been constructed. There are limits to all things, but the Egyptian desert is laden tvlth the chemical properties which produce cotton, sugar and other staples in a quantity that Is unknown elsewhere. The sandy soil needs only rioisture, and wherever It can be supplied with water the most bountiful crops can be produced. It Is surprisng to see rich fields that yield two and three crops a year side by side with sandy wastes upon which a grasshopper would starve. The desert may be )nly an Inch or two above high water, jut that is enough. Until water can each it, it is condemned to everlasting sterility. The same conditions exist In \rlzona. The same phenomenon can pe seen upon the Santa Fe and the Southern Pacific railways. Passengers jpon the trains pass instantly from a epulslve desert into a glowing garden. Profitableness of Irrigation. The irrigation system of Egypt, with ts certain crops repeated twice and lometlmes three times a year, makes he land It fertilizes very valuable. Lord Cromer's latest report shows that n 1895 the total area of farming land ippearlng on the government books for axation was 4,060,465 acres. Of this 1,692,827, or 56 per cent of the total, vas held by 727,047 proprietors In .'arms of less than fifty acres each. In 1901 the cultivated area had Increased :o 5,097,431 acres, a gain of 136,396 teres In six years, of which 88,722 acres vent to the small proprietors, which Slves them 56.53 per cent of the total, t slight 'ownership by the peasantry class. In 1895 573,819 acres, or 11.48 per cent jf the whole, were held by Europeans, [n 1901 the assessments showed a falling off to 554,409, or 10.9 per cent of :he total. The actual number of European proprietors decreased from 6,529 to 6,126, of whom only 1,484 cultivated nore than fifty acres. It will surprise American farmers to lear that this five million acres of land Is valued at an average of $105 an acre ind pays an average of $4 an acre In taxes. This Is due to the marvellous productive capacity of the soli. Cotton grows at the rate of 500 pounds to the acre year after year, and sugar cane produces equally well. There Is 3eldom a failure of the crops and the product of the 5,000,000 acres under cultivation in Egypt will probably aggregate more than is derived from any ether 5,000,000 acres of land In the world. It Is estimated that the reve nues to the government from the additional land which will be brought under cultivation by the construction of the new dam on the Nile will not be less than $2,000,000 a year from the sale of water and taxation, without considering the proceeds from the sale of the vast tract of desert that will be reclaimed. The Irrigation laws and regulations uf Egypt are such that the smallest farmer can enjoy the same privileges that belong to the richest. The water Is controlled by the government and svery acre that pays its taxes has Its 3hare cf water and is flooded as regularly as the Inundation comes. If the farmers could be induced to use modern agricultural implements and machinery they might pe-haps increase their profits, but there is plenty of labor and most of the farms are so small that machinery would not pay. The regulations and methods of handling the water go back before history begin to be written, perhaps before the alphabet was invented. We have this Information from the hieroglyphics carved on the walls of the :emples and the tombs. The Corvee System. Tr?*" Dt*U(oVi noma (r> t Vl Q flvlrOQ and causeways were kept up and the aanals were kept clear by forced labor, 'the corvee" system, as It was called, and in olden times every man had to serve so many days at work under :ruel taskmasters, an average of forty-five days a year for all citizens between the ages of 18 and 45 who did not pay for exemption. There was a ?reat deal of blackmail and bribery. People could buy exemption from corrupt officials cheaper than by paying the regular fees, and their share of the work had to be done by less fortunate fellow creatures, whose time was extended unlawfully for that reason. Dne of the first things Sir Evelyn Baring, now Lord Cromer, did when he lame into control was to abolish the aorvee, and since 1885 all the labor upon the dykes and irrigating ditches has been performed by hired labor at a cost of $2,200,000 during the year 1902. A certain number of men are called out from every province, varying from 5,000 to 10,000, who spend from a week to a month engaged under Etovernment engineers. They are well fed and well paid, and regard it as a favor rather than a hardship to be so employed. Mehemet All, who was Khedive ear ly in the last century, as I wrote you the other day, introduced cotton and sugar into the valley of the Nile, and both products have proved to be very profitable. The delta is now a great cotton field. Its product has doubled during the last fifty years. There has been a similar Increase In the production of sugar. An average crop of cotton Is now about 1,200,000 bales of 500 pounds each, which, having a fibre nearly an inch and" a half long, is more valuable than ordinary cotton and sells for about two cents a pound more than our staple. It is used for the manufacture of balbrlggan8, stockings and other fine articles ,and has become a ne ceaslty not only In Europe, but In the United States. We consume In the mills of New England alone a hundred thousand bales of Egyptian cotton, and a line of ships has been established to carry it from Alexandria to Boston.? Wm. E. Curtis in Chicago RecordHerald. * SURVIVING GENERAL8. All But Four of the Confederacy's High Chieftains Are Gone. The passing away of General Longstreet, followed so abruptly by the death of General Gordon, has aroused considerable discussion as to the number of remaining officers of high rank who served in the troublous days of the '60s. Though the number of those who Illustrated southern valor on sanguinary fields during this greatest of modern dramas is gradually and irrecoverably dwindling and the ranks of the heroic survivors growing pathetically thinner as the grizzled veterans drop out, leaving gaps that can . never be closed in obedience to any earthly command, there still remain many who lumlnousiy exemplified the patriotism of those regrettable times that witnessed such sweeping carnage and fell destruction. Of the lieutenant generals of the fmir romaln Qtonhon . D. Lee of Mississippi, who Is now seventy years of age; Simon Boliver Buckner of Kentucky, now in his eightieth year; A. P. Stewart of Chattanooga, who is eighty-two; and Joe Wheeler, who is sixty-seven. There are a number of living major generals, ranging between the venerable ages of General Hoke, who is sixty-six, to General French, now in his eighty-fifth year. The list compiled in 1900 showed the following to be then living who held the rank of major general at the close of the war: William B. Bate, Tennessee; M. C. Butler, South Carolina; John H. Forney, Alabama; 8. G. French, Florida; Thomas J, Churchill, Arkansas; Robert F. Hoke, North Carolina; E. M. Law, Florida; G. W. Gustus Lee, Virginia; L. L. Lomax, Washington, D. C.; Fitzhugh Lee, Virginia; Matt W. Ransom, North Carolina, and F. T. Rosser of Virginia. Since then this list has been reduced. The appointments of both General Wheeler and General Gordon to the position of lieutenant general were made during the last few weeks of the war, General Gordon being the last Confederate officer to receive this distinction. The formal confirmation of these appointments by the Confederate senate was never accomplished. Both men, however, have since the war been universally accorded the dignity of the rank to which they had been raised and their occupancy of this position has always been as secure and generally recognized as though they had received the Inevitable indorsement of the senate, bound in red tape and adorned with impressive sealing wax. So far as can be ascertained, there are eighty-three Confederate brigadiers still able to answer the roll call at reunions. Generals Maney, Jack3on and Speed having surrendered to the grim reaper during the past four von . Lieutenant General Wade Hampton, of knightly memory, Is also among the distinguished heroes of the "Lost Cause" who have recently gone . to the bivouac on the other side. Though forty years of change and progress roll between this happy day and the grim surrender at Appomattox, and though the south has accepted long since that historic verdict, she yet cherishes In fondest memory the brave deeds of her sons who then defended her Integrity and mariy .of whom have since shed dazzling luster upon the arms of the republic. Though the peace has come for which Lee prayed and Grant so earnestly desired, the south can and does, with perfect loyalty and noble patriotism, do honor to the soldiers of America who then argued with grape shot and canister the proper Interpretation of a na tional instrument. All honor to the surviving Confederate soldiers. The nation has no more devoted and self-sacrificing defenders than they.?Atlanta Constitution. The First Gold Rush.?The voyage of the argonauts, the date of which Is uncertain, was professedly a rush for gold, to be collected in fleeces placed in the torrents flowing down the flanks of Mount Caucasus. But older much was the westward movement, which Chaldean records of 3800 B. C. chronicle, to the gold bearing land of Melukkha, afterward known as Midian. Later on, but still at a very early period, there was a rush from Egypt to a spot inland from the present Suakin. Long afterward this was described by Dlodorus Slculus, who left a map, still extant, showing the wells provided for the gold seekers between the Red sea and the mines. About 1000 B. C. there seems to have been another rush of miners in search of gold Into South Africa. Its numbers can only be guessed at from the extensive remains that still exist, but It has been calculated that at least $350,AAA AAA ?" ~ Ktf iViaoa DQrlv UUUtUUV >\ cW actuicu uj v