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' ISSUED SE^tl-WEEKL^ ^ l. m. grist's sons, Publishers. J % rfamilg gjUirspaper: ^or the promotion of the golilita^ Social, g^rirultural, and (Eommerrial Jfnterests o( the Jhojjle. { ter^s1no?e?coApt1!^? * centsANCB' established 1855. YORKYILLE, S. C., Tl|ESDAY, MARCH 1, 1904. INTO. 18. 4* |l IShe Ge * ? 11 From 11 l:i; 2 + ? 4*., Copyright, 1899. by Doubltdaj J*'? Copyright, 190'. t t < * ! ! * ! !' ? !' ? ? ! >> ! CHAPTER IV. &1TFDGE briscoe sailed grim| Iv and leaned on his shotgun , #W3H in the moonlight by the ve. K&ySSI nuida. He and Vliiiam Todd .Imd been kicking down the elder bushes ;and. returning to the house, found Mill nie alone on the porch. "Safe?" he tsaid to his daughter, who turned an anxious face upon him. "They'll be safe enough now. and In our garden." "Maybe I oughtn't to have let them SO." "Pooh! They're all right. That seal swag's half way to Six Crossroads b\ this time, isn't he. William?" "He tuck up the fence like a scam' rabbit," Mr. Todd responded. look in Into his hat to avoid meeting the eyeof the lady, "and I didn't have no cal to foller. He knowed how to run. i reckon. Time Mr. Harkless come on the yard again we see him take ncro? the road to the wedge woods, near ha I a mile up. Somebody else with him then?looked like a kid. Must 'a' across the field to Join him. They're fur enough toward home by this." "Did Miss Helen shake hands with you four or five times?" asked Briscoe, chuckling. "No. Why?" said Minnie. "Because Harkless did. My hand aches, and 1 guess William's does too. i He nearly shook our arms off when we told him he'd been a fool. Seemed to do him good. I told him he ought to hire somebody to take a shot at him * l-a n/vf every morning uuiure uicutviuoi?uvi that It's any joking matter," the old gentleman finished thoughtfully. "I should say not," said William, with a deep frown and a jerk of his head toward the rear of the house. "He jokes about it enough. Wouldn't even promise to carry a gun after this. Said he wouldn't know how to use it? never shot one off since he was a boy, on the Fourth of July. This Is the third time he's be'n shot at this year, but he says the others was at a? what'd he call it?" " 'A merely complimentary range,' " Briscoe supplied. He handed William a cigar and bit the end off another himself. "Minnie, you better go In the house and read, I expect, unless you want to go dgwn to the creek and join those folks." "Me!" she exclaimed. "I know when to stay away, I guess. Do go and put that terrible gun up." "No," i-aid Briscoe lighting his cigar deliberaiciy. "It's all safe; there's no question of that; but maybe William and I better go out and take a smoke In the orchard as long as they stay down at the creek." In the garden shafts of white light pierced the bordering trees and fell where June roses breathed the mild night breeze, and here, through summer spells, the editor of the Herald and the lady who had run to him at the pasture bars strolled down a path trembling with shadows to where the creek tinkled over the pebbles. They walked slowly, with an air of being well accustomed friends and comrades, and for some reason it did not strike either of them as unnatural or extraordinary. They came to a bench on the bank, and he made a great fuss dusting the seat for her with his black slouch hat. Then he regretted the bat ?it was a shabby old hat of a Carlow AAiinhr fnultinn It was a long bench, and he seated himself rather remotely toward the end opposite her, suddenly realizing that he had walked very close to her coming down the narrow garden path. Neither knew that neither had spoken since they left the veranda, and it had taken them a long time to come through the little orchard and the garden. She rested her chin on her hand, leaning forward and looking steadily at the creek. Her laughter had quite gone; her attitude seemed a little wistful and a little sad. He noted that her hair curled over her brow in a way he had not pictured in the lady of his dreams. This was so much prettier. He did not care for tall girls. He had not cared for them for almost half an hour. It was so much more beautiful to be dainty and small and piquant. He had no notion that he was sighing in a way that would have put a furnace to shame, but he turned his eyes from her because he feared that if he looked longer he might blurt out some 6peech about her loveliness. His glance rested on the bank, but its diameter included the edge of her white skirt and the tip of a little white, high ciinnar tlmt rippnoil nut from UCC1VU Oiipyvt ! beneath, and he had to look away from that, too, to keep from telling her that he meant to advocate a law compelling all women to wear crisp white gowns and white kid slippers on moonlight nights. She picked a long spear of grass from the turf before her, twisted it absently In her fingers, then turned to him slowly. Her lips parted as if to speak. Then she turned away again. The action was so odd, somehow, as 6he did it, so adorable, and the preserved silence was such a bond between them, that for his life he could not have helped moving half way up the bench toward her. "What is it?" he asked, and he spoke in a whisper such as he might have used at the bedside of a dying friend. He would not have laughed if he had known he did so. She twisted the spear of grass into a Iittle_ball and threw it 4>?fr 4???! ft <? ! ? * f.}. 4. {. .|. ! ! .|. }? 4. i|. .|i if .|. ? .|. I|I i|. 4. * 4 ntleman jjj idiana iff OOTH TA. UK.IJ*GTOM |*J v /3t McClar* Co. 1|I 2. by MeCtaro. Vhillipj Co. fjf t. * * * .|. .1. * ! * *** 1 11. .1. * .I. !. * * at a stone in the water befo're she answered: "Do you know, Mr. Harkless, you and I have not 'met,' have we? Didn't we fcrget to be presented to each other?"' "I beg your pardon. Miss Sherwood. In the perturbation of comedy I forgot." "It was melodrama, wasn't It?" she ?:i!d. He laughed, but she shook her head. "Pnrest comedy." he said gayly, "ex Neither knew thdt neither hud, spoken cept your part of it. You shouldn't have done It. This evening was not arranged In honor of 'visiting ladies.' But ynu mustn't think me a comedian. Truly, 1 didn't plan it. My friend from Six Crossroads must be^iven the credit of devising the scene, though you divined it" "It was a little too picturesque, I think. I know about Six Crossroads. Please tell me what you mean to do." "Nothing. What should I?" "You mean that you will keep on letting them shoot at you until they?until you"? She struck the bench angrily with her hand. "There's no summer theater in Six Crossroads. There's not even a church. Why shouldn't they?" he asked gravely. "During the long and tedious evenings It cheers the poor Crossroader's soul to drop over here and take a shot at me. It whiles away dull care for him, und he has the additional exercise of running all the way home." "Ah!" she cried indignantly. "They told me you always answered like this." "Well, you see. the Crossroads efforts have proved so thoroughly hygienic for me. As a patriot I have sometimes felt extreme mortification that such bad marksmanship should exist in the county, but I console myself with the thought that their best shots are. unhappily, in the penitentiary." "There are many left. Can't you understand that they will organize again and come in a body, as they did before you broke them up? And then, if they come on a night when they know you are wandering out of town"? "You have not had the advantage of an intimate study of the most exclusive people of the Crossroads. Miss Slier wood. There are about thirty gentlemen who remain in that neighborhood while their relatives sojourn under discipline. If you had the entree over there, you would understand that these thirty could not gather themselves into a company and march the seven miles without physical debate in the ranks. They are not precisely amiable people. even among themselves. They would quarrel and shoot one another to pieces long before they got here." "But they worked in a company once." "Never for seven miles. Four miles was their radius. Five would see them all dead." She struck the bench again. "Oh. you laugh at me! You make a joke of your own life and death and laugh at everything. Have live years of Plattvllle taught you to do that?" "I laugh only at taking the poor Crossroaders too seriously. I don't laugh at your running into fire to help a fellow mortal." "I knew there wasn't any risk. 1 knew he had to stop to load before he shot again." "lie did shoot again. If I had known 3'ou before tonight, I"? His tone changed, and he spoke gravely. "I am at your feet in worship of your divine philanthropy. It's so much liner to risk your life for a stranger than for a friend." "That is a man's point of view, isn't it?" "\ou risked yours for a man you had nev>- smi before." "( b. no. I saw you at tbe lecture. 1 beard you introduce tbe IIou. Mr. Halloway." "Then I don't understand your wishing to save me." She smiled unwillingly and turned her gray eyes upon him with troubled sunniness. and under the sweetness of her regard he set a watch upon his lips, though he knew it would not avail him long. He had driveled along respectably so far, he thought, but he had the sentimental longings of years, starved of expression, culminating in his heart She continuedjo. look at him wistfully. searchlngly, gently. Then her eyes traveled over his big frame, from his shoes (a patch of moonlight fell on them; they were dusty; he drew tbem under the bench with a shudder) to his broad shoulders (he shook the stoop out of them). She stretched her small white hands toward him and looked at tbem In contrast and broke into the most delicious low laughter in the world. At this he knew the watch on his lips was worthless. It was a question of minutes till he should present himself to her eyes as a sentimental and susceptible Imbecile. He knew It. He was in wild spirits. "Could you realize that one of your dangers might be a shaking?" she cried. "Is your seriousness a lost art?" Her laughter ceased suddenly. "Ah, * -? *---3 DOi 1 UDUerslUilU luicia oaiu mc French laugh always In order not to weep. I haven't lived here five years. I should laugh, too, If I were you." "Look at the moon," he responded. "We Plattvillians own that with the best of metropolitans, and, for my part, I see more of It here. You do not appreciate us. We have large landscapes In the heart of the city, and what other capital has advantages like that? Next winter the railway station Is to have a new stove for the waiting room. Heaven Itself is one of our suburbs?it Is so close that all one has to do is to die. You insist upon my being French, you see, and I know you are fond of nonsense. How did you happen to put 'The Walrus and the Carpenter' at the bottom of a page of Fisbee's notes?" "Was it? How were you sure It was I?" "In Carlow county 1" "He might have written it himself." "Fisbee has never in his life read anything lighter than cuneiform inscriptions." "Miss Briscoe"? "She doesn't read Lewis Carroll, and It was not her hand. What made you write it on Fisbee's manuscript?" "He was here this afternoon. I teased him a little about your heading in the Herald?'Business and the Cra- , die, the Altar and the Grave,' isn't It? ?and he said it had always troubled , him. but your predecessor had used it, and you thought it good. So do I. He asked me if I could think of anything that you might like better and put in place of it and I wrote 'The Time Has Come.' because it was the only thiDg I could think of that was as approprl- I ate and as fetching as your headlines. He was perfectly dear about It He was so serious. He said he feared It wouldn't be acceptable. I didn't notice that the paper he handed roe to write on was part of his notes; nor did be, I think. Afterward he put it back in bis pocket. It wasn't a message." "I'm not so sure he did not notice. He is very wise. Do you know, I have the impression that the old fellow wanted roe to meet you." "How dear and good of him!" She spoke earnestly, and her face was suffused with a warm light. There was no doubt about her meaning what she said. "It was." John answered unsteadily. "He knew how great was my need of a few minutes' companlonableness with?with"? "No." she luterrputed. "I meant dear and good to me. I think he was think lng of me. It was for my sake lie wanted us to meet." It might have been hard to convince a woman If she had overheard tills speech that Miss Sherwood's humility was not the calculated affectation of a coquette. Sometimes a man's unsusplcion is wiser, and Harkless knew that she was not flirting with bim. In addition, he was not a fatuous man; he did not extend the implication of her words nearly so far as she would have had him. "But I had met you." said he. "long ?go." "What!" she cried, and her eyes danced. "You actually remember?" "Yes. Do you?" he answered. "I stood In Jones' field and heard you singing, and I remembered. It was a long tiuie since I had heard you sing: "I was a ruffler of Flanders And fought for a florin's hire. You were the dame of my captain And sang to my heart's desire. "But that Is the balladist's notion. The truth is thai you were a lady at the court of Clovis, and I was a heathen captive. 1 heard you sing a Christian hymn and asked for baptism." She did not seem overpleased with his fancy, for. the surprise fading from her face, "Oh, that was the wuy you remembered," she said. "Perhaps it was not that way alone. You won't despise me for being mawkish tonight?" he asked. "I haven't had the chance for so long." The night air wrapped them warmly, and the balm of the little breezes that stirred the foliage around them was the smell of damask roses from the garden. The creek splashed over the pebbles at their feet, and a drowsy bird, half wakened by the moon, crooned languorously in the sycamores. The girl looked out at the sparkling water through downcast lashes. "Is It because it is so transient that beauty Is pathetic." she said, "because we can never come back to it in quite the same way? I am a sentimental girl. If you are born so it Is never entirely teased out of you, is It? Besides, tonight is all a dream. It isn't real, you know. You couldn't be mawkish." Her tone was gentle as a caress, and it made him tingle to his finger tips. "How do you know?" he asked. "I just know. Do you think I'm very bold and forward?" she said dreamily. "It was your song I wanted to be sentimental about. I am like one 'who through long days of toil'?only that doesn't quite apply?'and nights devoid of ease,' but I can't claim that one doesn't sleep well here; it is Plattville's specialty?like one who "Still heard In his soul the music Of wonderful melodies." I "Yes," she answered, "to come here and to do what you have done and to I live this isolated village life that must ' be so desperateirairy and dull for a man of your sortfpnd yet to have the kind of heart tnwr makes wonderful melodies sing In^self?oh," she cried. "I say that Is fine!" "You do not understand," he return- g ed sadly, wishing' before her to be unmercifully just to himself. "I came here because I couldn't make a living p anywhere else. And the 'wonderful melodies'?I have only known you one evening?and the melodies"? He rose to his feet and took a few steps toward the garden. "Come," be said, "let me ? take you bock. Let us go before I"? s He finished with a helpless laugh. C11 -1 *1 *Vi A U 1 out? oiuuu uy iuc ueuiu, uue uuuu resting on It. She stood all In the 1 tremulant shadow. She moved one 91 step toward him, and a single long q sliver of light pierced the sycamores ic and fell upon her head. He gasped. w "What was It about the melodies?" u she said. tl "Nothing. I don't know how to thank you for this evening that you have giv- tl en me. I?I suppose you are leaving to- 0, morrow. No one ever stays here. I"? "What about the melodies?" g, He gave it up. "The moon makes peo- w pie insane!" he cried. U "If that Is true, then you need not be e( more afraid than I, because 'people' Is K plural. What were you saying about"? b, "I had heard them?in my heart ^ When I beard your voice tonight I b] lrnnnr +Vi n f If TTQ d rAll Vrhrt flOnff fhom kUC" L""1 " """ """ ? tl there, had been singing them for me al- tc ways." E "So!" she cried gayly. "All that de- dl bate about a pretty speech!" Then, p. sinking before him In a courtesy, "I am h( beholden to you," she said. "Do you h, think no man ever made a little flat- l tery for me before tonight?" sl At the edge of the orchard, where they could keep an unseen watch on the garden and the bank of the creek. Judge tc Briscoe and Mr. Todd were ensconced tc vnder an apple tree, the former still |r aimed with his shotgun. When the rl young people got up from their bench. lr the two men rose hastily, then saunter- T ed slowly toward them. When they q met. Harkless shook each of them cor- ^ dlally by the hand without seeming to know it. j "We were coming to look for you," explained the judge. "William was J afraid to go home alone?thought some one might take him for Mr. Harkless and shoot biin before be got into town. Can you come out with Wllletts in tbe 01 morning. Harkless." be went on, "and c( go with tbe young ladles to see- tbe R parade? And Minnie wants you to stay 8< to dinner and go to tbe sbow with tbeui r< In tbe afternoon." Harkless seized bis band and shook It and then Iaugbed heartily us be accept- 8| ed tbe Invitation. At tlie gate Miss Sherwood extended U| her hand to blfu and said politely, pi while mockery shone from -her eyes: "Good night, Mr. Harkless. I do not leave tomorrow. I am very glad to have 01 met you." 01 "We are going to keep her all sum- 0< mer, if we can," said Minnie, weaving her arm about her friend's waist sl "You'll come In the morning?" "Good night Miss Sherwood," be re- hi turned hilariously. "It has been such a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so 01 much for saving my life. It was very 'e good of you, indeed. Yes; in tbe mornlng. Good night, good night" He w Bbook bands with all of tbem, includ ing Mr. Todd, who was going with him. fe He laughed all the way home, and Wil- e3 11am walked at his side in amazement. The Herald building was a decrepit a frame structure on Main street. It ** had once been a small warehouse and 1 was now sadly in need of paint. Closely adjoining it. In a large, blank looking p< yard, stood a low brick cottage, over which tbe second story of tbe o'.d ware- e' house leaned In an effect of tipsy af- h< feetion that huu reminded Harkless. re when lie first saw it, of uu old Sunday re ce school book woodcut or un lneDnnxeo parent under convoy of a devoted cbild. a? The title to these two buildings and _ the blank yard had been included in the purchase of the Herald, and the cottage was the editor's home. There was a light burning upstairs in the Herald office. From the street a broad, tumbledown stairway ran up ? on the outside of the building to the ' second floor, and at the stairway railing John turned and shook his companion warmly by the hand. "Good night, William," he said. "It was plucky of you to join in that muss tonight. I shan't forget it." It "I Jest happened to come along," replied the other awkwardly. Then, with a portentous yawn, he asked. m "Ain't ye goin' to bed?" th "No; Tarker wouldn't allow it." U! "Well." observed William, with an- q other yawn, which threatened to ex- sc pose the veritable soul of him, "I tti d'know how ye stand it. It's closte on tj, 11 o'clock. Good night." pl John went up the steps, singing A aloud? ot "For tonight we'll merry, merry be, f For tonight we'll merry, merry be," ^ and stopped on tlie sagging platform )a at the top of the stairs and gave the h'( moon good night with a wave of the bj hand and friendly laughter. At this It th suddenly struck him that he was twen- ,u ty-nine years of age and that he had laughed a great deal that evening; ej laughed and laughed over things not h. In the least humorous, like an excited ^ schoolboy making a first formal call; Qj that he had shaken hands with Miss u Briscoe when he left her as If he should never see her again; that he had taken Miss Sherwood's hand twice in one ^ very temporary purting; that he had ( | shaken the judge's hand five times and ' William's four. "Idiot!" he cried. "What has hap- 11' pened to me?" Then he shook his fist ' at the moon and went in to work, he * thought. h< 01 TO BE CONTINUED. It W Cobwigger?Did the Women's club F have a harmonious convention? to Merritt?No. The only time they th ?ot together was when they were h* laving their picture taken. ni iUisccllmuous grading. GENERAL KOUROPATKIN. omething About the Russian Commander In the East. Gen. NIcholavitch Kouropatkln, the Lusslan minister of war, who is dlecting the operations against the Jaanese, is easily Russia's foremost ghter. The best authorities of Europe uncede that no one in the entire world i better equipped in every branch of illitary knowledge. Educated in the theory of arms at le best of the Russian military chools, trained to practice under the reatest of modern Russian warriors, fen. Mikhael Skobele, he made a glor>us record in every important Russian ar since xooo, una nunvcu uo p from sub-lieutenant In that year to ie command of the army in 1897. He has received more decorations tan any one breast could wear at any ne time. He was born on March 17, 348, and obtained a commission as jb-lle''*eoa'' in the Turkestand rifles hen he was only 18. After the brilant Turkestan campaign which add3 to Russia's Asiatic possessions, [ouropatkin returned to St. Petersurg a lieutenant, to continue his lilitary studies. In 1871, as the most rilliant graduate of the academy of le general staff, he was sent abroad > study military conditions in various uropean countries. In France Presient McMahon invited him to take art in the manoeuvers at Metz. IJerg t displayed such strategic ability that e was decorated with the cross of the egion of Honor, being the first Rusan to win that distinction. When war with Turkey broke out in 577, Kouropatkin was summoned back > Russia. Constantinople was to be iken. Between Russia and Constantlople lay three great barriers?the ver jjanuoe, tne xurKisn sirongiiujua i Bulgaria and the Balkan mountains, he first barrier was passed with ease, sman Pasha had been hurrying from Hddln with 60,000 trained soldiers, eallzlng that he was too late to deind the river he threw his entire force ito Plevna, thus menacing the line ie Russians must follow from the anube to the Balkans. It was a rllliant strategic move, for until Osan was dislodged no forward move >uld be made by the main army of the ussians. Twice they hurled them,'lves against Plevna, and were twice (pulsed with great slaughter. Between Plevna and Shipka Pass lay ochva, held by 15,000 Turks. This ronghold must fall before both wings the Russian army could cross in pon Plevna. Skobeleff and Kouroitkin were dispatched against It Aft three days of hard fighting, Lochi was captured and the third attack i Plevna was begun. It raged furljsly for five days, but ended In an:her repulse of the Russians. Skobeleff and Kouropatkln fought de by side during those bloody days id were frequently precipitated into md-to-hand conflicts with the enemy. Their most terrible experiences were i September 11th and 12th. Skobeff assaulted one of three Turkish rejubts on Green Hill and carried it ithin an hour, but with a loss of 000 men. The redoubt was Imperctly constructed, and left Skobeleff cposed to fire on three sides. The urks saw the opportunity and made sortie. Thereupon Col. Kouropatkin, ie only officer on Skobeleffs staff who id not fallen, rushed to meet them in le open with some 300 men. a aes;rate fight at short range ensued, ouropatkin's little band was almost itirely cut to pieces, but not until it id driven the Turks back into their idoubt. During the day Kouropatkin ,'ceived three wounds, but he never >ased fighting until the victory was >sured. Such is the man against whom the ips will have to contend when the tal land fighting between the bellijrents begins in earnest. A consumate strategist and with a determinaon to meet and overcome every obacle, the Russian minister of war, in le opinion of British military authories, can be counted upon to contest ery inch of Manchuria against the ipanese forces. THE FRIDAY SUPERSTITION. Is Universal and the Reasons Vary Widely. No superstition is commoner or ore widely spread than the belief in le unluckiness of Friday, which is sually attributed to the fact that the rucifixion took place on that day, and tmetimes to the character of Freya, le Scandinavian goddess from whom le day takes its name. A wilder exanation is found in the legend that dam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit l a Friday and died on a Friday. io nnnthor side to the Shield. jwever. When Louis XIII. of France y dying, on Thursday, May 14, 1643, ; summoned his physicians, says his ographer, find asked them if they lought he would live till the next day, id explained that Friday had alays been his lucky day; that all the iterprises he had begun on that day id proved successful: that he had ;en victorious in all battles fought i that day; and that it was his formate day, in short, and on it he ould wish to die. The wish was not anted, for the king died a few hours ?fore the Friday dawned. Another iliever in Friday was Count Jules ndrassy, who, when his daughter was arried to Count Louis Batthyani, in ine, 18S2, Insisted that the wedding lould take place on Friday, because, ? said, all the happy events of his ,vn life had taken place on that day. But these instances of a belief in le personal good fortune attaching to riday are but a very slight set-off i the almost universal feeling against ie day. Although Count Andrassy id found it lucky, his fellow countryen, the Magyars, have as strong a belief as other folk In its 111 fortune. On Friday they will begin no work of any importance, for if they did it ' would be foredoomed to failure; and some Hungarians will not even travel on that day. They also have a saying to the effect that to be meiry on a Friday is certain to mean weeping on the Sunday. Other Magyar ideas in this connection are that to sneeze the first thing in the morning on a Friday, when the stomach is empty, means some great catastrophe, and , that a guest arriving on that daj means a week's distress. There is popular prejudice, too, against undertaking various household tasks, such as washing linen, kneading dough, and lighting fires for the first time, on the unlucky day of the week. This superstitious feeling is shared by most of the European peoples, and it sometimes shows itself in very odd ways. A Portuguese young lady, It Is related, had ordered a harp from England, j but, unfortunately, it arrived on a Fri- , day, so she sent it away till Saturday, though she "was dying to try it!" In t Ireland Friday is one of the "cross days" of the year, and decidedly unlucky for removals. Mr. Edward Clodd ^ has recorded that a Macclesfield lodg- ^ Ing house keeper, who had taken a girl from the workhouse as servant, caught her cutting her finger nails one Friday. The horrified mistress snatched j the scissors from her crying: "Is that what I had you from the workhouse ^ for; to cut your nails on a Friday, and v bring bad luck to this house?" Hair- t cutting on that day or on Sunday is c equally unlucky. A northern folkrhyme says: t Friday's hair and Sunday's horn, n Ve'll meet the Mack Man on Mondav j. morn; . d Or, as another version has it: j, Friday cut and Sunday shorn, f Better never have been born. ], But the belief in the ill fortune as- .1 "ociated with the sixth day of the week is probably best known in con- 0 nection with seafaring men. Every b one has heard of the bold owner who I braved the terrors of the day by hav- - ing a ship laid down and launched on v a Friday. Its captain's name was Frl- !i day. It sailed on a Friday, and?of b course?was never heard of afterward! s Nowadays the superstition is contin- 1! ually braved and many ships sail on e Fridays, but formerly the feeling against the day was very strong. It C has been noticed as a curious colnci- v dence that both the Amazon, which d was destroyed by fire about a hundred s miles to the west of the Sclllies, and ii the still more famous troopship, the a Birkenhead, which went down off the 1< East African coast, sailed from South- t ampton and Liverpool respectively on s the same day, Jam 2, 1852, and that v day was a Friday. f In 1891, when Lieutenant Peary v started on his expedition to Greenland, li the Kite sailed from Sydney, Cape a Breton, at midnight on Friday, June c 12. A Boston paper of the next day t had a dispatch from Cape Breton, dat- f ed Friday, in which it was stated that the original Intention had been to sail earlier, "but there are several old 'shell backs' in the ship's company, and the / idea of sailing on such a trip on Friday was too much for their nerves. They saw the captain this morning and called his attention to the fact that It 8 would be a willful flying in the face s of Providence to start today. True t old salt as he is, he agreed with them, and on his representations to Lieu- j tenant Peary the start was deferred." The ballad of "The Mermaid" tells ? with sad particularity the melancholy fate of a ship which sailed on a Fri- 11 , c day morn: On Friday morn when we set sail t And our shiD not far from land, We there did espy a fair pretty maid, 1 With a comb and a glass in her hand. \ This, of course, was the beginning h of the end, which was on this wise: f Then three times round went our gal- v iant ship, t And three times round went she: t For want of a lifeboat we all went e down, And sank to the bottom of the sea. The Immense development of steam " traffic on all the oceans of the world has done much to knock old sea su- ^ perstitions on the head. The great lin- u ers which keep to their scheduled times almost as closely as the rail- f way fliers start from and arrive at .( their various ports and destinations j with a mechanical disregard of partieular days and seasons which was naturally unknown in the older days ^ of sea travel. The sailors who man 'he steamers believe in luck, good and ^ bad, as firmly, probably, as their prelecessors of sailing days, but their su- ^ perstitions take new forms and fresh .. directions. The old belief In the ill fortune attaching to Friday dies hard, however. It is still firmly held by many an old "shellback," and yet j flourishes among the fishermen of the t coast, not least among the canny folk of our northern shores.?London Globe. Different Climates.?An Irishman returning home from America got into a conversation with an Englishman, p who asked him what part of America a he hailed from. ^ "California," said Pat. v I oeneve, saia me niiigiisuuiau, q "there are different climates near each other there." ^ "Well, to give you an idea." said Pat. "I was shooting one day, and my dog. a well trained one, set himself ^ across a ditch. I was surprised to find on my giving him the usual token to start he remained motionless. Going t( toward him to ascertain the reason, I h found that his tail was frostbitten at p one side of the ditch and his head sunstruck on the other."?London Tit- J Bits. * ft#' "What has become of your baby sister Johnny?" asked a mother of her i' four-year-old son. "I haven't seen her C; for an hour or more." e "Oh, don't worry 'bout her, mamma," replied Johnny. "You'll find her when w you sweep the house."?Exchange. g VLADIVOSTOK AND HAKODATE. What Old Sailors Say of Theso Two Northern Towns. There has been considerable specuatlon as to the ability of any war ,'essel getting near enough to Hakolate to damage the town at this seajon of the year, because of Its high atltude. This Is the port where New 3edford whalers touch before entering he Okhotsk Sea, and with a view of )etter Informing Standard readers as o the possibilities, Capt. Joshua G. 3aker of Padanaram was seen yester lay afternoon. From him may be gainid a clearer idea of the situation, so ar as relates to that port, so well mown by reputation by peopic here, vho are or who have been concerned In vhaling. "Hakodate lies in latitude 42 north," laid Capt. Baker, "and is on the southirn edge of the island of Yezo, which s separated from the larger island outh by the Tsuga strait. , 'I have been there a great many imes. Hakodate has a fine land-lockid harbor, and in all my experience I lever heard of the harbor freezing, rhe current is very strong in Tsuga trait, so strong in fact that ice could lot possibly make, and although snow torms are frequent I can't say as I ver heard of ice making, either in iakodate harbor or in the strait "The harbor is a bold one at the lead of quite a large bay, and there vould be no difficulty for an enemy enering the waters and bombarding the ity." Vladivostok is about 400 miles west rom the Japanese port, and is on the nainland. It is in about the same lat cuae as naKoaaie, aunoujfn me cimlltlons axe the opposite and the haxbor s a closed one all winter long. Once rozen In there when winter sets in, the ce does not break up until wanner eather. Capt. Edmund F. Bolles, In speaking f Vladivostok, says It is a close harior with a narrow entrance like that of Jew Bedford. The city is on the east hore of a basin, and once in there in winter it means stay there until reeased by warm weather, when the ice ireaks up, unless other means are reorted to for breaking out a vessel, for t is possible to blow out a passage or ven saw out a channel. A few years ago the late Charles Jotter, while on a United States war essel, spent the whole winter at Vlaiivostok, and not until late in the pring was the ship released. In cruisng the warship put in at that harbor nd was caught there by remaining too ong. On his return home Mr. Cotter old of the desolate appearance of his urroundings. One of the incidents fhlch he related was that the refuse rom the cabin table and other food fas thrown on the solid ice surroundng the ship, and so numerous were the nimals seeking food that it never acumulated, but was cleaned up daily by hese animals from shore.?New Bedord Standard. COULDN'T HAVE THE HORSES. k Message That Gen. Washington K?* ceived From His Mother. Much of George Washington's firm trength of character was due to his plendld ancestry, as the following lltle anecdote will testify: While reconnolterlng In Westmoreand county, Va., one of Gen. Washlngon's officers chanced upon a fine team if horses driven before a plough by a urly slave. Finer animals he had lever seen. When his eyes had feasted m their beauty he cried to the driver: "Hello, good fellow! I must have hose horses. They are Just such affinals as I have been looking for." The black man grinned, rolled up the ' rhites of his eyes, put the lash to the iorses' flanks and turned up another urrow In the rich soil. The officer i-alted until he had finished the row; hen, throwing back his cavalier cloak, he ensign of rank dazzled the slave's yes: "Better see missis! Better see nlss's!" he cried, waving his hand to he south, where, above the cedar xowth, rose the towers of a fine old Virginia mansion. The officer turned ip the carriage road and soon was raping the great brass knocker at the ront door. Quick the door swung upon ts ponderous hinges and a grave, maestic looking woman confronted the isitor with an air inquiry. "Madame," said the officer, doffing is cap and overcome by her dignity. I have ccme to claim your horses In he name of the government!" "My horses?" said she, bending upon im a pair of eyes born to command. Sir, you cannot have tnem. xay crops re out and I-need my horses In the eld." "I am sorry," said the officer, "but must have them, madame. Such are he orders of my chief." ' 'Your chief? Who Is your chief ray?" she demanded with restrained armth. "The commander of the American rmy, Gen. George Washington," relied the other, squaring his shoulders nd swelling with pride. A smile of riumph softened the sternness of the Oman's handsome features. "Tell (eorge Washington," said she, "that his lother says he cannot have her orses." With an humble apology, the officer urned away, convinced that he had ound the source of his chiefs decision nd self-command. And did Washington order his officer 0 return and make his mother give up er horses? No; he listened to the reort in silence; then, with one of his are smiles, he bowed his head.?St. Nicholas. itif The kind of courtesy that counts 1 business is thicker than a mere andy coating. It is simply the honst application of the old golden rule 'hich always works both ways, as all ood rules should.?Jeb Scarboro.