ISSTJKP ggMI-WEEgL^
'- l. m. grists sons, pubiishen. j % 4amilg jfl etrspap er: Jor the promotion of th# political, JSociat, Agricultural and Commercial interests off the people. {
ehtabli8hed i855! YORKVILLE, 8. C., TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 22,19Q4. ' JSTO. 94. fl
f[ LITTLE
I A ROMANCE OF TH
GREAT LORD HAWKE"
\ CYRUS TOWf
Author of "Commodore Paul lonoa,
J of tho !
Copyrn ht, 1901, ty D. A
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PLAT, THE STAKE. AND THE
'* " PLATERS.
MEANWHILE, what of the
Countess Anne and Capt.
Grafton? They had passed
through a week of such
mingled emotions, sucn alternations 01
joy and sorrow, of love and jealousy,
of remembrances and anticipation, as
could scarcely be described.
When the woman he loved left him
alone the night he recognized her, after
that rapturous exchange of kisses,
Grafton felt himself transported to
Heaven. He forgot, In the happiness
consequent upon his discovery of her
identity, the racial antagonism which
x should lie between them; he forgot
the great gulf of war which held them
asunder; he even forgot the engagement
of Anne to de Vitre. But the
next morning, when the first glow of
his passion had left him, he was
enabled to view things in a clearer
light.
He carefully took account of the different
obstacles which separated, or
might tend to separate, him from the
woman he loved. He Intended to win
i her, come what might, and as the
campaign was like to prove a difficult
one, in which the odds were
mainly against him, it behooved him
to take stock of all opposition and
carefully look over the field. He must
^ think, he must plan, he must leave
, no stone unturned, lose no point in the
H game.
First of all he was an American,
and that was different from an EngW
lishman. Anne, although she sbowed
little of it to a casual inspection, was
an American as well. That was a
point gained. The war, he believed,
would presently be over. That was
another point in his favor. If she
loved him?if she loved him! Who
could doubt it after last night? But
did she love him enough to brave the
anger and defy the opposition of her
grandfather? Did she love him enough
to marry him in despite of country,
nationality, public opinion? He
thought so.
She had great pride of race, and
from the French point of view she
would be condescending ineffably in
marrying a mere commoner. For the
matter of that, he thought. In hls ioxaIng
humility, that no man was fit to
possess this priceless jewel of womanhood.
He placed her upon a level so
high that she would have been compelled
to condescend to marry even a
king, much less a simple American
gentleman. Marriage with him meant
for her the renunciation of title, rank,
station nnssessions enuntrv family.
friends, traditions?he piled up the
catalogue of sacrifices involved, in
gloomy, ever-deepening humility.
Still, other women had done such
things; these were not insuperable
obstacles.
k The last difficulty was the greatest.
There was de Vitre?a stumblingblock,
Indeed. No man could have
done more for another than he had
done for the young Frenchman. Hf
had twice saved his life, he had es
tablished his honor, and, by a singu
lasly ironic trick of fate, he feared hf
had been the means of bestowing upon
him the hand of the woman they both
? loved.
His own sense of the obligation hf
had conferred upon that youn?
Frenchman lay heavily upon >>'* soul
He could not demand from him freel;
or even take from him by force whai
he would have wrested cheerfully from
another. A benefit conferred, howevei
It may be considered by the recipient
as a benefit forgot, invariably estaD^
lishes a sense of obligation on him
who confers it Therefore, de Vitre
was an obstacle of the most serious
moment to the future progress of his
happiness. How to contend with him
he knew not Certainly he could not
make the relinquishment of the
Frenchman's desire for Anne the price,
or the reward, of his own past serv
ices. A genuine man, he could not
even bear to have these services mentioned;
and that they so persistently
remained in his thoughts gave him
honorable uneasiness. A very exalted
and chivalric nature had Philip Grafton.
He was particularly nice on the
point of honor.
That was not all either, for connected
with de Vitre was the honor of
the de Rohans. Anne, in the most
public manner and of her own free
will, had betrothed herself to the
young Frenchman. She had voluntarily
entered upon the relattonsnip
and assumed the obligation. Her
sense of honor was not less keen than
his. She was a woman, he remembered,
imbued with all the traditions
of that race whose proud boast it was
that while they had not been born to
the kiagly degree and they would not
condescend to the princely rank, yet
K they were Rohans. Was Anne capable
of sacrificing her word for her love?
It was doubtful.
The last consideration that arose in
his mind was an acute conjecture that
the marquis would not be much better
satisfied with de Vitre for a suitor
for his granddaughter than he would
have been with Grafton. The old
man probably, nay, certainly, had
formed his own plans, and there was
without doubt a third suitor of his
personal choosing awaiting Anne in
France. This meant much. If Grafton
could succeed in matching the
marquis' determination against Anne's
?111 V.l?,. J- Vtl.o on/1 tVio
wiu-yuwer, uriYiccu uc tuic nuu m?v
other, he might the more easily
i achicre success.
lhese things, w?-^?hed
|Wa?^hrefully, considered them ex|f|v
.' 'Vn*Merely, and racked his brain in an
INjijj! . V/ endeavor to solve the problem. His
" resolute determination was unabated.
That, his love for her, and her feeling
HR|8pL? for him, were the three things he
counted upon to enable him to have
- his way and win her for his own. He
IMA wa8 no longer a boy; he did not apK3
A proach the problem lightly and care
I ~ \
FRANCE f
E DAYS WHEN "THE
' WAS KING OF THE SEA
JsEND BRADY <
" "Reuben Jamet," "For the Freedom
S-m," etc.
poletoo * Co., New Tor*.
irsbly, but with a deliberate calmness
wbich outwardly belied his passion.
He was a man thoughtful by nature
ind strengthened in character by the
responsibilities of his position as the
captain of a ship, and he deliberately
determined to win the i>erson, as he
already possessed the heart of the
French girl.
It was a sort of game he played,
with her for the stake. The grim old
marquis, with his pride of race, family
and nation, and his ardent patriotism;
the handsome, dashing young Canadian,
the unknown suitor, who was
sure to be a man of parts and condition,
and the stubborn, determined little
Englishman would ull prove famous
players. Which would win?
! w,.ii mmp what mieht. Grafton al
J *eady bad Anne's heart, de Vltre her
i promise, the marquis her duty, and
the unknown as yet, nothing. The
lieart was the strongest card, he decided.
Of her lore he felt no doubt; but
love and marriage were two things
that rarely went together in the mind
of the high nobility of France in those
days. But stay! Anne was different
As a child, when he had known her
best, she had known none of these
disagreeable convenances of the society
of her day. Had hsr sojourn in
Canada, her entrance into the gay little
world "of New France, effected a
(evolution of her character? He did
not believe so.
These were torturing questions all.
Evening found him still thinking of
them and thinking alone. His wants
had been attended to by Josette or
Jean-Renaud, now allowed free access
to him. His anxious inquiries for the
countess had been met by the statement
that she was ill and could not
tome to see him?a declaration which
added alarm to his longing and dlsapiointment.
His progress toward recovery
had been rapid, but on the second
day of her continued absence from
his room he nearly fretted himself into
a fever. He found that be could be
more calm and cool in theory than in
practice. Dr. Arnoux looked very
grave when he paid his af ternoon visit
that day, and, ignorant of the real situation,
spoke some bluat words to
mademoiselle.
"This Englishman," he said, "is pining,
worrying, fretting. "Unless something
can be done to restore his peace
c>f mind I fear the consequences may
be serious; inflammation may set in
in his feverish condition, and then
>?
Hi* ominous eesture frightened her
greatly.
"Can't you, mademoiselle, cheer him
up, distract his mind in some way?"
he asked.
Anne knew only too well what ailed
her patient She had distracted him
too much already, possibly; yet, when
she heard of the threatened danger,
with her usual impetuosity she threw
prudence to the winds, broke her
promise to herself and fled to the
chamber. He heard her fleet step on
the stair, and when she entered he
faced her from the pillow with such a
smile of hope and joy ad complete!*
transformed him.
"Anne! Anne!" he murmured, reproachfully,
"for two w&ole days 1
have lain here alone thlDking, thinking,
thinking, dreaming, loving, until
I wonder I did not go mad! And you
never came!"
"I sent Josette, monsle r."
"Josette! You might have sent
every woman, every mess .nger in the
world, and I would have thought only
of you! How could you be so'cruel?
You love me, yet you left me!"
"How can I love the enemy of
France, monsieur?" she answered, gazing
down upon him with eyes that
gave the lie to the cold words on her
lips.
"I know not how you can, but you
cannot deny that you do. Anne, sweet
Anne, you are half American. This
land is the home of your mother. Let
it be the home of your heart as well!"
"And my grandfather, the marquis?
He would never consent."
"Faith, your own consent is all that
is necessary, sweetheart. If you love
me enough "
"But I am betrothed to Monsieur de
Vitre."
"Why did you do it at the last moment,
after you had recognized me,
when fate?happy fate?threw me at
your feet?"
"You do not love him, Anne, dearest?
Come, the truth! The de Hohans were
ever true, you told me."
"Ah, monsieur, I respect and admire
Monsieur de Vitre. He is a brave and
noble gentleman."
"Yes, but you do not love him?"
"How dare you catechise me in this
manner?" she cried, piteously, shrinking
from his persistent questioning.
"I will withdraw, sir. What warrant
have you "
But she made no motion to leave
the apartment. On the contrary, he
saw her body sway uneasily toward
him She rrmM not control her feel
ings. If he had not beei so ill, so
weak, so pathetically helpless, he
would have appealed less strongly to
her, she might have resisted better.
She was angry at herself for her lack
of control, and bitterly mortified. Was
this man her master in truth? And
he wore another woman's picture!
Shame on her, shame! Could he compel
her to break her word, defy everything,
and marry him against her will?
Ah, but was it against her will? There
was the rub.
" STre stood helptew before Mm. # Thf
whole current of her being flowing toward
him, only her stubborn will and
pride holding her back. But the struggle
could not be maintained for long.
He marked the rise and fall of her
breast. Her fingers moved restlessly,
her knees trembled, her eyes swam,
har color came and went. The constraint
she was under was terrible.
The girl loved him with all her soul.
*
Yet she struggled on; she would not
yield. 'Twas an unequal combat She
fought two: his will and her love. The
end was certain. He felt it was almost
cruel as he watched her and knew It
would come. All she needed In that
moment to bring her to him was time.
He was wise enough not to be hasty.
He put equal constraint upon himself;
Indeed, his love was no less than her
own.
"I have only the warrant of my love
for you to plead my cause," he answered
at last
"Have you loved me all the time?"
she cried, coming a step nearer.
"I know not," he answered honestly
before her truth-compelling gaze, "but
at least I have loved no one else, and
since the night in the tower there
has not been a day in which I have
not thought of you. But never in my
wildest visions did you appear so beautiful
as you are to-day, Anne, sweet
Aune! Dear Little France! My heart
knew you, even though my false eyes
told no story to my bewildered mind.
Twas God that brought us together
again. We cannot be separated, my
sweet, my own!"
"But Monsieur de Vitre, my engagement
"
"I ask you again why it was you entered
upon it so suddenly?"
"I saw that locket you wear over
your heart, Sir Philip, whose secret
you guard so jealously, from which you
will not be parted. You did not know
me Ynn had fnrcntten me There
was some one else." she murmured.
"I cannot marry the enemy of my
country. I should be an outcast, despised.
You fainted in the hall of the
chateau. Monsieur de Vitre was there.
When I knelt beside you I?I?looked
at you, monsieur. I forgot myself?a
little. I betrayed myself unsought?
unknown even. Monsieur de Vitre
cried out before them all that I loved
you. The thought stung me?my
pride, you know. I could not bear it.
There was but one way. He had besought
me for my hand. I dared not
trust myself before you unpledged.
They looked at me so earnestly. It
was a foretaste of what I should meet
I stopped every gossiping tongue,
stifled every suspicion by saying 'Yes'
to my brave countryman. I?I do not
regret it."
She forced herself to lift her head
and look at him white-faced and trembling.
His bold, burning glances
plunged through her defenses like a
word-blade.
"This from the truthful de Rohan!'"
he murmured coldly, but with a breaking
heart. "If you looked at me dying
then?and perhaps dying now after
that word?if you looked at me then
as you look at me this moment, tnere
were no ground for de Vitre's suspicion.
Is this your fidelity! Go! You
have not?you do not love me."
She burled her face in her hands
beneath his stern -accusing graze?his
reproaches scared her heart. She had
not told the truth to him.
"Go, mademoiselle!" he continued,
pitilessly, ruthlessly turning the
weapon he had thrust Into her heart.
"The other night?does my imagination
mock me, or did I dream of
Heaven, of your kisses? Were the lips
that now betray those that met my
own? Was it that sweet head that lay
upon my breast ? Was it all a vision'
Did I ever live for an hour with you
in that old dark tower by the sea?
Was I indeed the knight of that gen
ne cnnu wuo wrappea nersen urouuu
my heart? You weep, mademolsell*.
Why? Happiness opens before you.
You are the betrothed of de Vltre "
"No more!" she cried, tearing her
hands from her face and springing toward
him. She seized his arm and
unwounded shoulder with a grasp that
was painful in its intensity. "No
more! No more! You torture me beyond
endurance! 'Tis no dream. I
love you, I adore you, my king, my
king! What are country, and grandfather,
and friends, and all the world
to me beside you!"
She bent her glorious head once
more and kissed him as she had kissed
him in the moonlight two nights before.
Had he won? This time he did
not lose control of himself. She was
living that moment in the present, he
could still, while sharing her emotion,
think of the future. He would
strike at once.
"But de Vitre?" he exclaimed.
She drew herself away from him
slowly, rose tremblingly to her feet,
and looked down upon bim again.
"You remind me," she said, brokenly,
"of my word, my duty. I know
not how it is," she continued, "why I
am so weak before you. Is it the
strength of your love or the strength
of mine? But I will be mistress of
myself. I cannot break my word. I
cannot break my old grandfather's
heart. I cannot dishonor the name of
my family. I am a de Rohan though
but a woman. I will not "
"Hear me, Anne!" cried Grafton,
stretching out his hand to Heaven,
"before God I swear you shall! You
shall break your word with de Vitre!
You shall put aside your country!
You shall cross the will of your people!
You are mine by prior right I
will make you do it! You shall be my
wife!"
"How, monsieur, will you bring
about these things?" she cried boldly,
every nerve in her body thrilling and
quivering in passionate response to
the imperious affection in his words.
"What power have you? What is it
that will give you strength?"
"The power of love, Anne!" answered
Philip. "When two love each
other as we love nothing can come
between them."
She looked long and earnestly at
him. He spoke the truth, and she
knew it, yet with the stubbornness of
a man and the devotion 01 a woman
she clung to her negation. Presently,
as he said nothing further, she
turned to leave the room.
"Walt!" he cried from where he lay
exhausted by his own feelingB. "Before
you go, promise me that you will
come again? That each day you will
let me see you at least once?"
"I promise you, Sir Philip," she answered,
"but I must have no more of
this. Indeed, I cannot stand it 'Tis
not right, itoomports not with my
honor. You must promise me, too. I
am pledged still to Monsieur de
Vitre."
She was almost humble in her petition,
as if to say, "You have the
power, you know it, oh, abuse it not,
if you indeed love the woman who has
given you her heart" Her appeal
met with an immediate and generous
response from him.
"God bless you, Anne, for the taring
grace of that word 'still'!" ha cried.
"I promise you. I shall ask no kiss of
you, expect no caress from you, beg no
further word of love, until your engagement
with de Vltre Is broken."
"That will never be, monsieur," she
said sadly, yet taking heart and
cherishing hope from his bold assurance.
"Au revoir."
With reluctant feet the girl turned
and left the chamber. She sank down
before the prle-dieu In the room which
she had occupied since Grafton came,
and poured out her soul to the mother
of sorrows in appeals for pity and
help. He loved her, O Blessed Virgin,
and she loved him. How masterful he
was! He had sworn she would be his
wife. His wife, yet, pitying Heaven,
that other woman whose face he wore
over his heart! She tore the lace at
her breast in wild and jealous pain at
the thought Was it possible for a girl
to be at the same time so happy and
miserable?
Poor Denis de Vitre!
TO BH CONTINUED.
yy
2U IU Will UU?
HOW FORE8T8 GROW.
There Are Two Groat Typoo, the Pure
and Mixed.
The laws which govern the distribution
of trees produce the two great
types, the pure and the mixed forest
The former is the result of local conditions
which trees of one kind only
can survive.
In the north woods the balsam occupies
the swamps, usually to the exclusion
of all competitors, since no
other of the native trees can thrive
in wet places. In the Black Hills and
other parts of the middle west the
small demands of the bull pine upon
moisture enable it to form pure woods
on a soil too dry to support other native
trees. The Jack pine of the New
Jersey barrens and the long leaf pine |
of the southern states grow in pure
or nearly pure stands sffice they alone
can withstand the peculiar conditions
of these .regions.
Where climate and soil are favorable
to various trees we find the mixed
forests the number of species in mixture
depending upon the suitability of
the locality to forest growth.
Upon the hardwood flats of. the
Adirondacks the hard maple, the yellow
birch and the beech are the only
deciduous trees able to withstand the
severe climate. In the southern Appalachian
forests, where the trees of the
north and south meet under condition*
favorable to both, we And more than
100 different kinds.
The distribution of trees, therefore,
is the Joint result of local ^conditions
and of the individual and varying requirements
of the different species upon
moisture, soil and climate. THfl
laws, however, which govern forest
distribution are not identical with
those which regulate the behavior of
trooa In mixture. Thev do not ex
plain why each species, If undisturbed,
maintains the same proportion in the
mixed forest. Why does not the hard
maple drive out its competitors in
the Adirondacks, the oak gain the
upper hand in the forests of the
southern Appalachians, the red flr exterminate
the western hemlock on the
Pacific slope?
Wherever a mixed forest occurs
there is an unrelenting struggle going
on. Let us see how the combatants
are armed and why the representation
of each species remains unchanged.
The more important of the characteristics
which affect the capacity of
a tree to hold its own in mixture with
trees of other kinds are its demands
upon light, its rate of growth and its
power of reproduction. No two species
require an equal amount of light,
grow at the same rate or are identical
in their capacity to reproduce
themselves. The endowment of each,
with habits differing from those of its
neighbors, but with strength and
weakness so balanced that all which
occur in mixture enter the struggle for
existence upon an equal footing, is one
of the marvelous feats of nature.
The red spruce of the North woods,
through its ability to endure dense
shade, has been given the power to
ligrii ana oy uic bccu ui a neon
fertile soil. The red flr, equaled by
few North American trees in rapidity
of growth and otherwise equipped
to gain the upper hand In Itq region,
is controlled through the u&hal
failure of Its seed to germinate excei\
when accident has removed the leaf 1
litter and exposed the mineral soil.
The study of trees as living, striving
organisms ir$ a world of their own
leads to an almost human Interest In
the forest. Every day spent in the
woods will be pleasanter for some insight
gained into what is going on
within It, and an earnest observer can
gain knowledge of practical value by
an attempt to discover the factors
which control the occurrence of trees
in mixture. Forestry, which deals with
the development of the highest utility
of forests, means a thorough understanding
of the^iabit^^^^^^^^||r
AN OKLAHOMA 80CIETY.
What it Has Dons for ths Territory's
Morals.
In the two Territories, soon to be
united as one state under the name
of Oklahoma,, the Anti-Horse Thief
Association has gTown In numbers
and Importance more than in any other
state In the Union, and today James
8. Klrkwood, of Guthrie, is the head
of an army of 40,000 men, all residents
of Oklahoma and Indian Territory,
each man of whom is subject to immediate
service at any time to take the
trail and aid in the capture, at least,
of the festive horse thief.
With the advance of civilization
across the western prairies the horse
thief and his band have been buffeted
and beaten until they bid fair to take
their place in obscurity with the buffalo,
deer and antelope. Instead of
the vast expanses of prairie which
afforded ample avenue of escape for
I the horse thief and his gang of marauders,
the plains are now dotted
'with towns, in each of which is located
a telegraph instrument, a device
which has done more to eradicate the
horse thief and his methods than any
other agent. By its means the bandit
has no sooner broken the law until he
is hemmed in on all sides by United
States marshals, sheriffs, farmers'
posses and vigilance committees, who
either force his surrender or shoot
him down in battle.
The passing of the horse thief in
Oklahoma can be credited largely to
the efforts of the Anti-Horse Thief
Association, which now has close to
1,000 lodges In Oklahoma and Indian
Territory, with a total membership of
40,000 men. The National Anti-Horse
Thief Association was organized in
northern Missouri forty-three years
ago, and it Ultimately extended its
membership into all of the middle and
western states and territories. During
the past year in Oklahoma alone
there were organized 131 new lodges
with a membership of 14,000. In this
county seventeen new lodges were
organized during the year with over
700 members. Throughout Indian Territory
the increase has been even
greater. In the territorial division
of the National association there is
one lodge to every sixty square miles;
Kansas one to every 216 square miles,
In Oklahoma alone one to every 120
square miles. Pawnee county has a
lodge to every twenty-six square
miles, Lincoln and Pottawatomlne
counties one to every thirty-five
square miles, Logan one to every
thirty-eight and Greer county one to
every 140.
During the past year the association
has aided in the capture of 137 horse
thieves and the recovery of $12,000
worth of stolen horses. There were
124 horses stolen and 136 recovered,
some of them being stolen during the
previous year. Out of the 187 thieves
captured 117 have been convicted, an
excellent record for the association.
The annual convention of the association
of the two territories will be
held in Guthrie during the coming
week. There will be at least 3,000
delegates present. The president is
James S. Klrkwood, of Guthrie, wno
is now serving: his sixth term in that
position.- He is commander of this
army of thief catchers and in case of
trouble can call every man into the
field.
A great part of the prominence attained
by Klrkwood as president of
the association and as the great intrepid
leader in the two territories is
due to "Traveller," a black stallion,
which has been in Kirkwood's possession
for many years. He is said to
be able to scent a horse thief for several
miles, and he is more widely
known in Oklahoma than any other
animal in the territory. The horse
has carried Klrkwood all day and
all night without rest except for food
and water. "Traveller" is now J 8
years old, but he is still able to catch
the air of excitement in a man hunt
and on an occasion of that kind he
sprints over country roads and fields
as If he were still a colt.
viovon voarn urn the Oklahoma di
vision of the Anti-Horse Thief Association
was born of necessity. In
those early days the bandits and
desperadoes roamed at will over the
prairies and preyed upon the pioneer
settlers, defying arrest. One of the
most desperate and daring gangs was
that headed by Yeager and Black.
These outlaws came in touch with a
new force when the Oklahoma association
was formed, and were flna'ly
brought into camp "with their boots
on." For this Important capture James
Gibson and J. P. Mouriquand of
Homestead, both members of the association,
deserve the credit. They followed
the trail of the outlaws for
months and finally, with the assistance
of a party of association members.
broke up the gang, captured
some of the followers and killed both
Yeager and Black in the pitched battle
that occurred.
The association at times has provocation
to resort to mob violence,
notably in the murder of Capt. J. S.
Pool, an Indian Territory association
leader, by two horse thieves, Barclay
and Brummltt, during the summer of
1902 in the Osage Indian country.
After a hard fight the two outlaws
were captured and placed in the Federal
Jail here. The feeling against
the two was so bitter that threats of
lynching were made until Hominy
lodge of the Anti-Horse Thief Association
took charge of the prisoners until
the two could be transferred to
Guthrie prison, and sent out a warning
that a mob would be resisted with
Winchesters. Barclay and Brummltt
were tried, convicted of murder and
sentenced to hang, but afterward the
sentence was commuted to life imprisonment
at Fort Leavenworth by
President Roosevelt.
While the association has been successful
in weeding out nearly all of
the outlaws and desperadoes, one remains
who has fought all posses, escaped
arrest and is still at large. He
is Ben Cravens, the only living king
of outlaws left of the old gang, and
for his capture the rewards aggregate
nearly $10,000. He is considered one
of the most desperate men that the
west ever produced and has the reputation
of shooting to kill before taking
any chances on capture.
There is recent report that Cravens
has followed the trump lead of many
others of the later generation of bad
men and sought permanent safety in
odd Mexico.?Guthrie letter to Dallas
Ntys.
JMThe SOOth anniversary of thf Jt>JrU
or Tniue Beard" took placid on October
30. ( "Blue Beard" was a real man, and
the so-called fairy story is true in all
its essential details. "Blue Beard" was
Baron GUles de Rais, an enormously
rjclr Breton nobleman, who fought with
distinction under the banner of Jeanne
d'^Arc and was marshal of France at
tj>e age of twenty-five. After the war
f
hold Its own against faster growing
competitors, some of which exceed It
greatly In their capacity to reproduce
themselves. The young spruces which
spring up here and there throughout
the forest struggle along under the
heavy crowns of the hard woods, where
a tree making more Insistent demands
upon light could not survive.
In the forests of the southern Appalachians
the oak Is in many localities
the characteristic tree. Growing
rapidly and exceedingly hardy, It might
be expected to Increase steadily Its
proportion in the mixture. The equilibrium
is maintained through the fact
that the oak can endure but little
shade and that Its seed is heavy, limiting
Its reproduction to the Immediate
vicinity of the parent tree.
In the same region the yellow poplar
and the chestnut, both trees which
grow rapidly and are capable of enduring
considerable shade, are controlled,
the one because much of Its
seed is barren, the other because many
of the nuts are eaten by animals. And
the red cedar, of slow growth and
sparse representation. Is aided through
the distribution of its seeds by birds,
with their power to germinate unimpaired.
The aspen, short lived and requiring
much light, holds Its own with longer
lived and shade enduring trees because
Its downy seed Is produced In
great quantities and is scattered far
and wide by tne wina. rne asn auu
the basswood, of rapid growth and
bearing an abundance of seed, are
withheld by strong demands upon
* * * * -* 1 A fxaah onH
he plunged into the wildest dissipation.
His great fortune was largely
increased by the dower of his first
wife, Catherine de Thouars. His favorite
diversion was murdering babies
and dabbling in their blood. The
church caused his arrest and trial.
He was condemned and was hanged at
Nantes, but was converted In prison,
and his last words were to implore
the forgiveness of those whose families
he had decimated by murder.
REA80N FOR THANK8.
Some of the Blessings for Whioh the
Average Man 8hould be Grateful.
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. v
In this article I wish to set forth as
briefly as possible some of the things
for which the average man should be
grateful. There are the extremes of
poverty and riches, sickness and health
and between these extremes lies the
great mass of men, any of whom might
be taken for the average man.
Ingratitude id one of the commonest
sins of man. The Master healed ten
lepers, and only one returned to give
him thanks. The Psalmist said: "Oh,
that men would praise the Lord for
His goodness, and for His wonderful
works to the children of men!" Indicating
clearly that men do not praise
the Lord for His goodness. One reason
among 'many for this Is the fact
that men do not realize how many
blessings they enjoy. In view of this
fact It may not be without profit to
set forth some of the blessings enjoyed
by men.
The average man should be thankful
for his existence. An able editor once
in enumerating the blessings for which
men should be grateful named "existence,"
and added, "if Indeed this is a
blessing." It is true that in the case
of some men it would have been better
If they had never been born. But not
so with the man who makes the right
use of his life. It enables him to think,
to feel, to thrill with sensation, to do a
man's work in the world, to make the
world brighter and happier for having i
lived In'lt, and to prepare for the world 1
to come.
His life has been spared and he has 1
been kept In reasonable health. There i
may have been brief periods of sickness,
but on the whole his health has
been good. He has been able to en- '
Joy life, to do his work, and Is a bur- 1
len upon no one.
His reason, too, has been spared. No 1
more awful calamity can befall an in- <
nocent man than the loss of his mind.
The very awfulness of the loss emphasizes
the value of t.ie possession. I
While asylums are crowded with poor
unfortunates he has been spared.
He has his family about him. Death
has come into some homes; there are 1
vacant chairs and aching hearts; but
he has been spared; home circle Is I
unbroken. If broken," he still has
many to comfort him.
His wantp are an supplied, ne may
not have luxuries, but he has un 1
abundance of food to eat and raiment
to wear, and there is no lack of fuel.
His harvest the past year has been 1
unusually abundant. His barns are filled
with plenty, and his heart wtlh 1
gladness.
He has a comfortable home. It Is hot
a palace, but It Is substantial, and In 1
every way suitable to his needs, and is {
being made more and more attractive '
every year. Under its roof he finds '
privacy, love, repose and rest.
Beyond the circle of his own family 1
he has many tried and true friends. If 1
he has not it Is his own fault. If one '
will only show, himself friendly he will
attract others to himself who will
gladden his life with pleasant social '
Intercourse, and help him in every time 1
of need. 1
If the average man Is a farmer, and 1
In this section he is more likely to be j
that than anything else, he has most
excellent lands to till. They may not
have as much natural fertility as
some, but they are capable of being
made as fertile as any lands on the
face of the earth. He can produce as
great a variety of crops as can be produced
on any soil In the world.
If his lands should be considered in
any way lacking, this Is more than
counterbalanced by the climate. He Is
saved the extremes 01 coia una m-u>.
He knows nothing of the depression
and languor of a sickly and debilitating
climate. He is exhllerated and
Invigorated by the pure air he breathes.
His children have good schools - far
better than he or his fathers had, ar 1
his mall is delivered at his door. In
almost any community he can co >munlcate
by means of a wonderful instrument
recently brought Into general
use with the doctor In case of sickness,
and can ascertain the price of farm
products without riding to town, and in
a short time he will likely have an ?nstrument
of his own. He lives bet it-r '
than any noble In Europe did n few '
centuries ago, and he can travel faster 1
and with more comfort than anv kl).< i
could a hundred years ago. Hio father
never heard of the battle of Nev
( rleans until three weeks had pas rd. 1
yet his little boy will be able to dt - i
scribe the fall of Port Arcnur the i ext |
day after It is captured.
He lives under the best government
it- the world. His government Is net I
without Its faults, but there Is no bet- <
ter. In no other country in there so
lunch liberty, and nowhere :lse have
all so nearly an equal chance in life.
He is living in a truly wonderful age. 1
This world, now grown hoary with \
years, has never seen a more wonderful
age than the one In which he Is
living. It Is an age of high average '
intelligence, of ceaseless activity, of
large thoughts and enterprises, ana or
unparalleled discoveries. It is truly a
privilege to feel the thrill and throb
of this age, and to form a part of it.
But still greater than these are some i
blessings still to be named. He was
reared in a godly home. He is the
child of many prayers. His parents
were not rich in this world's goods,
but they left him a heritage of stainless
life and character. Their exam- ,
pie, counsels and prayers are blessing
him still, keeping him from dishonorable
deedB, and stimulating him
to nobler actions. Though dead they
yet speak in his life.
His church is accessible, and In it
the gospel is faithfully and earnestly
preached. He knows that he is not
the sport of fate or chance. A higher
power is guiding and guarding him.
The everlasting arms are about hiip.
He can look up to God as a child
looks up to its father. He has a hope
of eternal life. His assurance may
o< the Apostle Paul, but
These are only some of the blessings
of the average man. If he will
take the trouble he can enumerate
many more. I hope, however, that in
calling his attention to some of his
blessings, he may be led to reflect on
all his blessings, and be filled with a
gratitude to the Giver of all blessings.
J. K. Hall.
GEN. BOOTH'8 RECRUIT8.
All 8orts of Mon Who Join tho Salvation
Army.
"Billy" McLeod, once champion
light-weight of England, hero of half
a hundred fights for ?20 to ?60 a
aide, who conducted the services at
the Salvation Army Temple, Blackfriars
road, Sunday, Is one of the
many picturesque characters in the
"army."
There is surely no other preaching
organisation with such a variety of
men and women in its ranks. Gen.
Booth has spread his net wide and
caught fish of many kinds. One of
the colonels at headquarters is a refined
and aristocratic lady, near relative
of the only duke who married an English
princess.
Some years ago. Prebendary WebbPeploe
had a promising young curate
named Ollphant. Over in Germany
you will find him now, wearing the
scarlet cap of a Salvation Army commissioner.
One of the directors of the old East
India company had a grandson, Frits
de Latour Tucker, who after being
educated at Cheltenham college, went
out to the East, and ultimately became
a judge in the Indian civil service.
He resigned his Judgeship to become a
Salvation Army officer. Having "graduated"
in Whltechapel, he took the flag
to India, married a daughter of the
general and is now Commander BoothTucker,
chief of the Salvation Army In
the United States. It Is probable that
he will soon be appointed to an Important
post in the army in Ehgland, for
he is one of the ablest officers.
All are flsh that come into the net
of the old fisherman of Queen Victoria
street. He catches an Australian "lar?1kln"
with a hundred police convictions
against his name, turns him inside
out, puts a red Jersey on him and
sends him into the "back blocks" to
preach to the sheep farmers and gold
prospectors with all the zeal of a convert.
After twenty years' preaching,
all over Australasia, the ex-larrlkin
came over and "testified" at the Congresses
in Strand. He was as cleareyed
and ardent un Australian as you
as you would And between Sydney and
Perth.
A mathematician of Upsala University,
in Sweden, la Joint commander of
the forces in Switzerland; an Irishman
from Llgoniel is managing director of
the Army Assurance Society In the
city; the daughter of a Chelsea solicitor
Is lieutenant colonel of the PunJuab,
and the army in the West Indies
is commanded by a Cape Dutchman.
Next week a special mission will be
undertaken in Ireland by a valiant little
man who years ago "ran" a boxing
saloon at Rugby, in the intervals of
carrying on the'trade of a chimneysweep.
Now he is one of the most
respected of the old brigade of Salvation
officers, for Commissioner Elijah
Cadman dodged, sometimes unsuccessfully,
a large share of the brickbats
which twenty years ago used to be
thrown at the heads of the Salvation
IBIS.
Before he was six years of a ere Commissioner
Cad man began earning his
living in his native town of Coventry.
He was a little boy. Just of the else
useful to a chimney-sweep in those
[Jays, and at 3 o'clock in the morning
the barefooted, six-year-old urchin,
clad only in calico shirt and trousers,
used to trot around Coventry with his
master, and climb up the inside of
sooty chimneys with his brush. Once
a. week he was washed in salt and
water.
As he grew and became a sweep on
his own account, he fought and drank,
and was a dare-devil fellow. He went
to Rugby and started his boxing and
gymnastic saloon, "sweeping" by day
and boxing by night Then one day
he and his "pals" made up a party for
the last public execution at Warwick,
when two men were hanged. "That's
what you'll come to," his "pals" Jocularly
told the little sweep.
But the sight of the execution turned
the sweep into a preacher. He smashed
up his single-sticks, dismantled his
boxing saloon, and, uneducated as he
was, took to preaching in the streets.
Being unable to read, he engaged a
boy to read the New Testament to
* * M 1J u 1 ? U?l#_?Annw #Af?
mm, ana paiu inm tx nau-|A;iuv *v.
every verse he learned by heart. In
that way he learned the greater part
of the New Testament.
One day after he had been "reading"
the Gospel to a meeting, an acquaintance
told him that he had been
holding the book upside down!
He Joined the Wesleyan church and
was told off to take a children's class.
On the first 8unday he learned the alphabet
from his pupils. It was not
until he was married that his wife
found he could not write. She taught
him. One day, nearly forty years ago,
he was going through Whltechapel and
heard the "Rev. William Booth," of the
Christian Mission, preaching at a
street corner.
He Joined the mission and became
the first captain In the army. In the
men's social work Commissioner Cadman
has played a great part. For nine
and a half years he had charge of It,
including Hadley Farm colony, and one
of his "cases" was the present AdJL
McGregory, whose story was told a
few days ago In the Express. In the
last few years the ere-while sweep has
traveled all over the world on army
missions. In the early days of the
army he was nearly blinded with pepper
In the streets, and more than once
was reported killed. He Is said to
have been knocked down and Jumped
upon oftener than any other Salvationist.?London
Express.
A Cur* For Hiocoughs.
A young man, pale and weak, entered
a physician's office.
"Doctor," he said, "I have had?hie
?I have had the hiccoughs tot atx
hours. They are exhausting me."
"Let me see your tongue," said the
physician. "Out with it. Oh, farther
out. Out as far as you can put it
That is it. Now hold it out there till
I go to the back office and get a depressor."
The physician disappeared. The
young man, his long, pink tp?*ue
spread like a drapc^n*
"By Jove, he's 1<Jhg?" the young man
thought. "I wonder-what can be keeping
him."
"Just a minute," the physician called
from the next room. "Keep your
tongue out. I'll be there in a minute."
But it must have been live minutes
before he returned. He wu smiling. W "8k
"Did you keep your tongue out ell. I
the time?" he eeld.
"Yes," the young man answered.
"And you didn't hiccough, did you?" <1
"Then," said the physician, "you
are cured."
The young man, as a matter of fact,
was cured. The protrusion of his tongue
had cured him. The physician
said that this treatment rarely, if ever,
failed to drive away the moet obstinate
attacks of hiccoughs.
THE GREAT DESTROYER. HI
8ome Startling Faets About the Vise jgL
of Intemperanoe.
In the front store window of a dealer . bjM'J
in wines and other Intoxicating (hthks |
A OC?C??l M'UVO UVUVCU UUi U UIU r
winter placard! displayed, upon which ,
were lettered the words which form
the caption of this article: "Come in
and look! Tou will not be expected
to buy!" How like in sentiment and
accordant In rhyme, I thought, to the
familiar dity of my childhood: "Will
you walk into my parlor, said the
spider to toe fly?"
With no Inclination whatever to accept
the invitation to enter this death
trap, I could nevertheless, in imagination,
look around upon its breve array
of bottles of wlnp and demijohns
of whisky, its flasks of gin and casks
of brewed lquori, and readily picture
some scenes, which, although inseparably
linked to this traffic, I am sure
that the dealer would have been altogether
unwilling to have enacted right
there in hLi presence.
Thus, I could bring before him the
young washerwoman, who, with a
babe at her breast, and with a second
one just able to walk, beside her, was
at work at my house only yesterday.
It might have been well had this
greatly wronged woman stood in his
presence, > here he, too, could have
seen her woep bitter tears whilst she
told how Iter husband had broken
again his good resolve?had spent all
his week's wages for the hateful
liquor?had lost an excellent place,
and finally, overcome with remorse at
his folly, hsd utterly deserted her and
the children.
Had the tears and woeful tale of
this woman made no impression upon
the respect! ble dealer in ram cordials,
ckat>a hav? ti??n hrnnirht
him?were fit not that she had lately
)>een silenced by drink?another one
of whom 1 tiad knowledge, who earned
a livelihood by washing. Moat faithful
and hardworking waa aha la her
sober moments, but constant waa hor
craving for alcohol, and dreadful to
hear were her Jeerings and Imprecations
when it mastered her. Overcome
by the habit, she had at lost
died miserably In the forlorn room of
the tenement where she lodged. The
writer, being called to the spot he- ^
held a loithaome object, auch as h*
hoped never again to see, yet, had he
accepted the Invitation of the rumseller
to j "come in and look" upon
those demijohns of whisky in the
ware-house referred to, visions of des- ?,
olatlon very much like this must have
risen to view.
Again: I might have brought?I
could bring now?into the presence of
this dealer a terribly besotted and
bloated creature, made so by the same
maddening poison as la drawn from
those casks. If there should come
with him, af the same time, the two
elder sons r -ho are following hard in
their fatbei's steps to ruin, and the
nine other children?which would include
the jabbering Idiot boy and the >
baby?and finally, the mother herself, i
to tell of her husband's nearly con- J ,JI
tinuous drunken or half-drunken condition,
hie frequent ravings andfoamlngs
when he dashes the scanty furniture
about end no one la safe In bis
presence, hin threatening to kill her
with the knife which he usee in his
shoemaker's craft, and of her being
driven screaming into the street even
at midnight In the depths of winter
and with a single garment upon her,
I think, perriaps, the owner of the
casks and demijohns might be con?
?"? oiitv Buffering.
? (UVCU V*
though he might still make denial of
the iniquity of the traffic by which
he thrives.
I have here simply spoken of three
caaes of the drink evil, happening,
within a stone's throw of each other,
in what is rpoken of aa one of "the
poorer l*:all lies" of Philadelphia's inviting
suburb of 0
Almost everyone who reads these
lines caa cite somewhat similar instances;
whilst the cases which daily
come before our Quarterly Sessions
court will lurnish many others, of
the harrowing details of which the
swiftest pen could- not take full account.
Tet we are assured that none
of these things are unrecorded in
"the boqk of remembrance," none forgotten
by Him who heareth the cry of
all His creat jres. Would that all who
accede to the alluring Invitation to
"Come in and look," who look acquiesclngly
"upon the wine when It is
red," would consider the deadly peril
of that add.r's sting("at the last It
stlngetb like an adder"), which is
likely to assail them, remembering
that drunkards have no Inheritance
with those who "may enter in through
the gates into the city." Still, to the
tempted, the weary, and the heavy
ladei, Is ever extended the invitation,
with Its promise of eternal rest: "Let
him that is a thirst come. And whosoever
will, let him take the water of
life freely." No deception nor double
dealing here. The word Is come and
freels take, for assuredly you will not
be expected to buy.?Joslah W. Leeds,
in t)|e National Advocate.
' . .
XT It la reported that the Russian
military transport authorities estimate
the through carrying capacity of the
Siberian railway for the next six
months at a)x>ut 36,000 men and the
necessary stores every four weeks.
The? estimate given by them in the
earlv summer varied from 23,000 to
27,Wq, and the former rate seemed to
have been maintained. Thanks to va(efous
Improvements and to the completion
Circum Baikal line, an
be by AprtSJ^^S^Lo^S^Uln 1; IHHBBKMMI
Manchuria the las t ^n tTnJenTbrTfO - 6 $1'
men "theatre .JOQ.OOQ
piles could be tempora
Alaskan district for th. -i.Imy-ir rt7
estimated at $26,000,000,T*nF^^^^^^^^^^^^H