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^ i * * y^j ISSUED l. m. qrist's sons. Publishers. } % Jamiln Ueutspaper: jfor promotion of the political, Social Agricultural and Commercial .Interests of the people. { TEs?nol^cop1 wvEeLATs!ANei! established 1855. YORKVILLE, 8. P., FRIDAY, MAY 1, 1908. n~q. 35. !mm hi n>iiyiuiyiyiyii.iiim By CLARENCE wwwfwwiwfiifwnifwwuii CHAPTER XXIII. The "Ocean's Own" Sails. The reader may have noticed that every important event in life is much like a hill in the road?up one way and down the other. He may have noticed that difficulty usually belongs to one-half the journey an event demands. and that all the rest is simple ii nH oasv sometimes going to some thing?something hoped or feared, as the case may be?is a journey of rough ways and tedious obstructions, as though Providence hoped to deter wickedness from its purpose, or to test the perseverance of virtue. Sometimes the going Is easy, and the coming is weary work, as though Ood designed the purification of proper power from the perils of pride, or the giving to triumphant evil a hint of the shortness of human glory and the need for repentance. You know how Lurline Bannottie came to Boomviile; shall you be astonished to know that her return was unmarred by accident or delay? She was too wise a woman to take any more chances than were necessary. She was. perhaps, a little more cautious than ordinary, since she had taken so prominent a part in the plans I of Mr. Samuel Lyman and had made It not only reasonable, but right, for the citizens of Boomville to believe wh^t that acute gentleman had intended they should believe. Being prudent, she drove to the town to which she had told the proprietor of the livery stable she was going. With a single man, in all the world of men. certain in his own mind that she went there, it was as well that all the world should have a chance to know that she came back from there when she returned to Blankford again. It was getting toward morning when she drove out of Boomville, though the eastern sky was still dark and gave no promise of a morrow. The wind was rough and raw. The sky was obscured. here and there, with patches of hurrying cloud. The air was cold, very cold. The snow still swept back and forth, to and fro, at the touch of the viewless blast. A sleigh-track, mute and intangible witness to the way crime came and went, did not remain long that night.* The wind, her ready accomplice, filled the furrows in the soft snow almost as fast as her sleigh made them. She drove slowly out of Boomville? and she had deliberately consigned a fellow-being to the most horrible of fates. You, my reader, if you had shut a man into such a crematory as that in which Samuel Lyman was left, by accident. I mean?or in sudden passion? would, perhaps, have driven rapidly. But she?she drove slowly; she was Lurline Bannottie?Lurline Bannottie. with the fierce, hot blood of Italy in her heart, and with triumph's mad words of freedom on her lips. She paused on the top of the hill over which she had so doubtingly come, so short a time ago in hours, so long a time in events and emotions. hopes ana rears. nut- >hp|.j.?-u ..i top of the hill and looked back. There was no glare against the sky yet: there was no alarm yet: Samuel Lyman had planned well, indeed, in- all things but one: he had only forgotten the fury of a woman scorned?that was all. No alarm: no shouts, no glare of flame to light up the night with its horror: no attempts, though unavailing fines, at rescue yet. But a thin veil of smoke, gauzy, impalpable, so delicate and evanescent that it would have eluded eyes less keen and expectant than those of Lurline Bannottie, swung and wavered above the top of Barron's Boomville Bank. She pictured the fierce flames within; she imagined how the walls were growing slowly to a furnace heat: she thought of the inch-thick iron shutters changing from black to red. as the minutes went on. and then from red to white. "He would have put Frier on my track if I had not come." she said, fiercely: "he said It, and I think he would have done it. But?I came!" She smiled. She drove on. She paused again at the snow-covered bridge. She waited! she looked, she listened. The smoke, crawling from tiny crevices through which flame could not penetrate, was growing into a thick dark column, reaching high into the frosty air of the winter night. But still there was only smoke; still no eyes but hers saw It. There was no cry of terror; no appeal for help; no clangor of alarming bells through the awful silence. She stood up in her sleigh. She turned her face toward Boomville. She lightly kissed the tips of her dainty fingers, and tossed the kiss that way. "Au revoir. Samuel Lyman." she said, gayly: then added, in a voice which trembled with long-pent-up passion, "I wish I could have done worse!" When the alarm of fire startled sleeping Boomville to sudden and horrified wakefulness, she was further away than the tumult of their hells could reach. ******* 1 do not know how Samuel Lyman met death. I cannot say whether he was a brave man?or a coward. I cannot tell whether he faced the inevitable with his eyes full of the insane glare of baffled wickedness and an unavailing hope for vengeance?or whether he raised them toward that Heaven he had defied, with genuine repentance shining in them, though at later than the eleventh hour. I may not write that he cursed?or that he prayed. I do not know. Omnipotence gave him power to plan, and permitted him to plan to his own destruction. Omnipresence looked upon him as he went through the fiery furnace of his fearful trial, and listened to the words he spoke in the open doorway between this world and the world which is to come. How he died, how he looked, what he said, i BOUTELLE. what he hoped?or feared, rejoiced at? or regretted, we know not?nor can we. Omniscience knows. A wild cry rang: through the streets of Boomville. The bells clanged out on the frosty morning, a madder, wilder, more awful clangor than had ever been heard from them before. There had been no cry heard from the bank. Perhaps the thick walls and strong shutters had held it in when Samuel Lyman cried in agony for that which was beyond hope or the power of prayer. When the one who gave the alarm shouted his discovery and his fear the smoke was a pillar of blackness. with faint gleams of flame light "> O.o hAri'lhlo m 11 rL' i of Its inn base where it rested upon the roof. His discovery, I said. That needs no explanation. No one looking at what this restless early riser saw could have dared doubt for a moment that Barron's Boomville Bank was doomed. But his fear? What of that? It went from man to man, as the streets filled with hurriedly dressed and half clad people, at first in the horrified whisper of incredulity?but later in the agonized accents of unwilling conviction. "There's a man in there: Samuel Lyman is in there: can nothing be done? Something must be done: hurry; why don't they hurry?" This was the burden of the cries of the crowd, as it grew greater and greater?denser and denser. Men took tools and dashed up to the outside door. They stood there and worked?worked as they never had worked before?as they would never work again?as money could not have! hired them to work for any man's | property?as they would not have! worked except in an attempt to save' human life. There were wealthy men among the workers, who would n<?t have spoken to so poor a man as Samuel Lyman yesterday: there were men who had hated him?justly or unjustly as it may be: there were men who distrusted him; there were all sorts and conditions of men there. How they worked! TJ ? 11 t I1UM Ull numcu, Prier was there, and John Kane, and Walter Aldrlch, all with tools in their hands, and all in the very front of daner and endeavor. They worked long:, earnestly, manfully?worked with the; streams from the engine playing upon them to lessen the awful heat?worked until even that could not keep their condition tolerable?and then they shrank back, slowly and regretfully, . one by one, leaving the front door still firmly in its place. They sprang to the work again with renewed ardor and redoubled vigor? careless of danger, thoughtless of discomfort. because the last one to leave, a moment before, had thought he caught the sound of staggering footsteps inside, and was not sure he did not catch the tones of a despairing voice above the roar of the raging dames. They worked like madmen. They crushed down the outside door. They sprang into the outer hall. And then? they were just in season to totter out into the street again as roof and walls piled themselves together in one shapeless mass of blazing timber, blistering brick and white-hot iron. Patiently they poured streams of wat-of intrt nnri avpr the ruins for long. long hours. More patiently still they labored long in lifting charred beams, bent and twisted pillars and girdles, and piles of broken brick, from where they had fallen. With most of patience. and with all of awe, they gathered all that was left of the man who had died there?scarcely more than a handful of calcined bones and white ashes?and bore them tenderly away. Reverently they followed the remains of the dead to the grave. Lovingly they covered them from human sight. With tearful friendship and kindly thoughtfulness they planted flowers and shrubs about this man's resting-place, when winter had melted ind blossomed into spring. And ere. many months had gone by. they placed a marble shaft at Samuel Lyman's grave, on which they recounted his many virtues and the tale of his fidelity to his trust. And no one has ever called their epitaph's record in question, and none ever will: for the crime which Lurline Bannottie took upon her soul on the morning of the Sabbath day, March *>th. 1 ST 1. was never brought home to her?never suspected of her?never suspected as a crime at all?and never will be?not in this world! And the monument stands there, and will stand there, under its shadow Frier has sorrowinglv unsaid some unkind words he was once so unfortunate as to speak of the sort of man he believed Mr. Samuel Lyman to be; by its side Walter Aldrich and John Kane have rivaled each other in kind words of the dead. The monument stands there, as it has . ? j ?..:n ?* fho trifinnmPnt (I 11(1 Will. *uru vuii ii i..x ? ?if Samuel Lyman. I prefer to call it a monument to human wisdom?as broad as its vision?as deep as its aeuteness? as high as its powers. For after all, my friend the reader, is its record of the one who rests beneath it not as true as some you have seen? ??*?#? It was early in the afternoon on Sunday, March 5th. 1S71. that Lurline Bannottie arrived at the town to which she had informed the gentleman from whom she had purchased her team that she was going. The team was beginning to suffer, for they had had neithi er food nor water since they left Blankford. nearly twenty-four hours before. Miss Bannottie would have suffered, too. for she had never endured so much of hardship, had it not been for something in her heart and brain I which kept her almost unconscious of * any mere physical conditions?any. thing so gross as hunger and thirst? anything so commonplace as cold? anything so familiar as fatigue. I will not attempt to analyze this feeling which made Lurline Bannottie's Sunday morning ride almost a dream, so fur as the impressions of the outside world were concerned?however real reflection and memory and hope made it, for the task Is beyond me; I am only sure of one thing about it?it was not remorse?it was not remorse! Lurline Bannottie directed that her team be carefully attended to?that they be prudently watered and thoughtfully fed?that they be kept from injuring themselves by overeat-, ing or drinking after their long task and enforced abstinence. "I shall remain until some time on i Monday or Tuesday." she said, "and give them plenty of time to rest after the hard work they've done." "How far have you driven them?" asked the hotel proprietor. "As far as from Blankford," she replied, which was the truth, as far as it went, much as it lacked of being the whole truth. "When did you start?" She told him. lie did not doubt her In any respect. Why should he? Many a man. had he started from Blankford at the time she did, and taken the direct route, with the roads in the condition in which they were, would not have arrived before late on Sunday morning: some men would have turned back; and she was "only a woman," as he said to himself. So he heard the truth she told?and believed it to be the whole truth. Why should he not? He let "only a woman" cover any surprise or doubt he might have found proper or natural?as though "only a woman" has not. again and again, since the time of the first woman, done the weakest, wickedest, most awful things which stain the pages of the world's history?as well as the strongest, bravest, best, most devoted, most self-sacrificing and most saintlike deeds; proving beyond all controversy or doubt that in the human heart there still lingers a spark kindled by the Divine. "Only a woman." Yes, "only a woman." What do you suppose her woman's heart prompted her weak hands to do, last night, at Boomville. in Barron's Bank? Having first disposed of the matter of the comfort of her team (Holy Writ assures us that "the merciful man is merciful to his beast"?while we learn from Geometry that the converse of a proposition is not necessarily true because the proposition itself is!) she went inside and ordered food and drink and a comfortable room for herself. She ate heartily: she seemed to enjoy her meal. After it was over, she drew a lounge before the fire and lay down to rest. I have no doubt she could easily have lain awake?for though tired, she had not lost her enormous power of will?if she had really desired and tried! But the fact is that she was sound asleep within a minute from the time her head touched the pillow. She looked well asleep. One dainty palm?the one with which she had pushed shut the inner door of the ?snrinni-foH ht>r rnsv cheek. Her long lashes seemed to shut the world out from her sight?as though she had drawn back from something wicked or impure which had offended her there. One hand?the one she had kissed at the bridge when she allowed herself to say Lyman's mocking farewell?hung over the edge of the lounge and showed its graceful shape to the greatest 'advantage. Her smile remained on her face?as much of it as could rest on cheeks and lips when the glory of her eyes was veiled by slumber: perhaps that was because she had left her door unlocked and slightly ajar?because she never let even sleep throw her off her guard, unless she was certain she would not be intruded upon; while, perhaps?it was simply because she was Lurline Bannottie. Left her door unlocked and partly ajar, do you ask? Certainly, why not? What had she to fear? Why should she make a pretense, even to herself, that she did hear? But the diamonds, and the bank bills, and all else in Lyman's valise? Ah! You have not forgotten them. Neither had Lurline Bannottie. She had placed the valise in the closet of her room. She had locked that door? which gave her security; she had left her room door as I have said?which rendered curiosity or suspicion impossible. And she had the key of her closet-door, where it could not be taken without waking her. And she had a revolver handily near to the shapely fingers which looked as though they were made for light touches and tender caresses?and for nothing else. A tender hand may be a strong hand: rest'assured that Miss Bannottie would not have given up that valise that day while she had life enough left to fight for it. But, you protest, how could one sit down and eat?lie down and sleep?so near the scene of so horrible a crime as she had committed? I cannot tell you. I do not know. I do not and I cannot understand it. I have only to tell you the facts, leaving to you the task of explaining them. Many would have fled until the horses fell dead in the road?and then, fami u to no- fin' jmd maddened with w thirst, have despairingly gone on on foot, welcoming night for the security of its darkness, and storm for the perils it placed in the path of pursuit. Many would have rested only when mountains, seas, deserts, were between them and what they had done. Many would have gone away to some place where their names had never been heard nor their faces seen; there they would have taken unto themselves new names?names never befnre heard anywhere; there they would have dwelt in seclusion, trembling at every footfall. and paling at every opening door. Hut Miss Bannottie was not one of many; she was, I hope, like none other than herself. She was going back to Hlankford, to New York, to Liverpool, to London, to Naples. She was going back to Mrs. Klsie Ha iron-Sen n. She was going soon. She was going promptly. But she was not going to hurry. She was not going to lose her needed rest. 1 will tell you what she said before she took her comfortable place before the fire and composed herself to sleep. If she had been more solidly literary in her tastes, she might, perhaps, have embodied it in a book of "Bannottiean Proverbial Philosophy." It may ex plain her actions to you, possibly; it certainly does not to me; I suppose it s did to her. "It is noboby's business that I am here," she said, as she drew the lounge ? in front of the fire. I suppose that was true, though they were pouring a dozen l streams of water into the hottest part t of the ruins of what had once been d Barron's Boomville Bank. r "It isn't any of Mr. Prier*s business," I she said, as she took the pillow from r the bed and placed it on the lounge; ti "nor any of Mrs. Senn's." I suppose a that was true, though Mr. Prier was I at that moment wondering, as he rested for a little from his work in the dead Lyman's behalf and watched the unremitting labors of Rev. John Kane, just when and where the clergyman 1< had mot "that she devil," as he called her under his breath; I suppose that was true, though Elsie Senn, lonely h in her beautiful Neapolitan home, was f weeping a little to think that she had n no word from her old friend and com- s painon, Lurline Bannottie. I suppose h that was true, though I think she would n scarcely have cared to meet Mrs. El- h sie Senn if she had known it, nor Mr. a Prier under any circumstances. s "If Lyman told the truth." she said, j as she laid her head upon the pillow a and stretched herself before the pleas- v - - ** -? - '.IJ V, Hill warmui; " JI lit* lull! HIP ii inn?ii 1 hope he did; if they failed to save s him. beeausw his plans were so well laid, then I am safe, and as safe here ii as anywhere." I suppose that was true, too. t "If they saved Lyman?that is the beginning of the end. They'll not look p here?at first. The snow has covered ? my sleigh tracks?and I'll have time u to rest here. But they'll find me, when;- s ever I go. They'll take me, wherever I s hide. The arm of the law will be II stretched half way round the world if e necessary. The earth is too small for c safety?if he lived to tell his story; a too small for a bed for me to die on: a just large enough for a gallows for me to hang on; too small for me to find a v place upon it?up in the sweet air and a sunshine, among the flowers and the songs of birds?hut just large enough h to give me a grave beneath its surface, ft down with Death's twin slaves, Decay p and Oblivion. And?what is, is; what s will be. will be." All of which, I suppose, is true. And so she slept, her o eyes fulling into darkness under their t snowy lids at. the same moment as s the earnest men in Boomville began to lift, from the borders of the still hot s and smoking ruins the debris which r had shut Samuel Lyman from the light e of this world for ever. c And?I find I've had to write Truth v opposite to all she had said?this ter- o rible woman?this fascinating woman, v But it doesn't explain her actions to ii my satisfaction. Does it to yours? r It was dark when Miss Bannottie a awoke. She arose at once. She bathed l< her face and hands. She arranged her C beautiful hair. She rang the bell. v She ordered supper. She ate heartily. She dismissed the servant, send- u ing Her away with a coin she never I spent and a smile she always remem- ? Derea. r ascinauon was an cm. ?h.?? a Lurline Bannottie, and she never ran a the risk of losing her powers througrh v the rust and decay of inaction and dis- n use. d Miss Bannottie quickly prepared for e bed. She retired as soon as possible, t It was not many minutes ere she slept t again?slept soundly and quietly and a calmly?with no dream of her stormy t home-coming, nor of the stormier scenes t through which she had passed since, h She was. beyond all doubt, a most re markable woman, a woman to whom b the end meant?the end! n Miss Bannottie rose late on Monday n morning. She had a leisurely break- o fast. And then No. she didn't drive back to Blankford then. Would you have done so? She did not forget that she had come here, "from Blankford." on business! 1 She attended to business. She bought one little thing here, another there; she walked into each of the two news- e paper offices and managed to ask a a half-dozen naturally selected questions t in each: she called on one or two law- v yers, and found some excuse for mak- o ing her presence seem quite proper d and appropriate. Risky? Certainly it was risky. Her face was one that few Y would readily forget. She did not wish t to have Mrs. Senn know that her jour- 1 ncy had taken her to America?and she did not mean she ever should; she did t not wish to meet Prier?and she in- a tended to avoid doing so. Hut?she a took these risks. For?the time might come when it would he convenient to s show that she had come here from i Blankford. And?she meant to be able s to prove it. v It was late in the afternoon before she had finished her business. So she d remained in "town Monday night. Hut a on Tuesday she took an early start, r found the roads opened since the storm, and had a pleasant and uneventful ride s to Blankford. g She went at once to the hotel, not far from the station. She had some c hours to wait before the arrival of the 1 train she wished to take. She sent a f polite note to the proprietor of thesta- y ble at which she had purchased her t team. He came over to the hotel at I once. I "I wish you to look at this team, sleigh, harness and so forth, and tell me what they are worth." she said, t pleasantly. I He appeared to enter into the spirit s of her mood at once. Perhaps she had impressed him?much as she had im- > pressed other men. Possibly the mon- \ ey she had so scornfully refused to re- r ceive from him. when he had attempted to make her take back a part of it, still \ an opportunity to say it. "I fear you paid more than they are i really worth." he said. t It seemed to relieve his mind to have r an oportunity to say it. i Miss Bannottie smiled. 1 "1 presume so. What are they j worth now? What will you Rive me \ for them?" c "Two thousand dollars." He seemed growing happier and .? happier; his relief of mind was more > and more marked. { "In cash?" she asked. * "Yes, in cash." "Good. Let some one take them over j to your stable. Will you come in?" He bowed. They went in. and to the public parlor. He counted out the two f thousand dollars?the very same one hundred double eagles she had paid j him. She unbuckled her belt. She ' put the money in. She put on the belt. ! "Good morning." said she. , "Wait a moment," he replied: "you eem to have forgotten something." "I think not; good morning." "The pay for the use of the team from Saturday to Tuesday." "Oh? Is that it? I am sorry?for I ove to be original?to have to admit hut you are not the first grasping and listrustful man on whose whims a hurylng traveler has had to depend, and not the first victim to prove his natch! But?you will please rememier that I drove my own team while ,bsent from Blankford. Good mornng." "I protest, madam, I " "Good morning." I "Good morning." she said again, and e.ft the room. Mr. Prier went to Now York. He iar] planned to go on the same train or Boomville as that which Miss Banlottle really took at Blankford. Some trangely trivial circumstance delayed ilm at the last moment, and kept him ne train later, just as trivial events ave been shaping the fates of empires nd races, ever since we And even hadowy legends to tell us of them? ust as the issues of earthly peace nd happiness, yes, and the joy or the rreteheduess of another existence, ave hung <>n the slightest happenings Inee "in the beginning." Miss Bannottie readied New York, n due time and without accident. Mr. Prier arrived in New York one rain later. Miss Bannottie had planned to take assage on the first steamer sailing, ihe found that to be the Pond Lilly, inder charge of Captain Dennis. So he waited another day, and took pasage in a vessel belonging to another Ine. Shp took great pleasure, howver. in riding down to the wharf, losely veiled, and in a closed carriage, nd gett ng a sight of the pale face nd nervous manner of Captain Dennis. Mr. Prier came down to meet the essel he had hired, with the assistnce and advice of Mr. Patsy Gullens. There was no delay for Mr. Prier. lis captain and crew were ready: and lr. Gullens. looking perfectly sober, icrfectly happy, and much less aggrosive than formerly, was ready too. Supplies for a Ion# voyage were sent n board. Then they moved down from he city, to take the chances of the ea. The Pond I.ily was almost ready to tart as they passed her. A closed cnrlage was waiting, close at the water's dge. A veiled woman drew aside the urtains at one of the windows. She /as watching the activity on the deck f the Pi nd Lily. And Captain Dennis /as utterly ignorant of the near proxmity of this woman for whom he had isked so much of peace and honor, nd on whose face he would never x)k again. Lurline Bannottie watched Captain Dennis, and smiled at her adantage >ver him. But she looked, with careless and inobservant eyes, at the vessel under Tier's control which passed them by. ihe read the name on the vessel's side, nd said it over to herself In careless dmiration of the name. Perhaps she /ould have felt differently about the latter had she known who was on the eck: sho might have been agitated, or ven ala med, could she have listened o his words: "I have studied navigainn nnc,i hofnre T became a detective. nd I'll f nd Jasper Jahnway if he's on he sea. And I'll make him tell me the ruth, and the whole truth;" she might ave tre libled at his muttered threat, I'll be blamed if I don't hang- someoily," Hut she did not know, she did ot guess. She only repeated, and did iot know she did it. the pretty name f Frier's hope: "The Ocean's Own." To be Continued. SHE WEPT IN EVERY OFFICE. "earful Young Woman's Method of Getting Magazine Subscribers. She was a young woman, well dressd, and had an appearance above the verage. While not of striking beauy, in the common sense, she was rhat is often called good looking. In ither and simpler words, she would lo. She entered the lawyer's office. In ler hand she held a magazine, and in he back portion of her hair was a ead pencil. "I would like to have you subscribe 0 this magazine," she said. "It is $1 1 year and one of the very best magzines published." Then she turned the pages and howed the lawyer the many interestng departments, special articles, aborbing fiction stories and other things vhich the magazine contained. "Xo, miss," said the lawyer. "I lon't care for it. I'll admit the magizine is a good one. but I have enough iow, and I' don't care for it." The lawyer had hardly finisher! his entcnce when the young woman be;an to weep copiously. "Don't mind me," she said. "I just an't help it. I am trying to earn a iving. I am soliciting subscriptions rtt- ?i muimjlnp whieh is worth $1 a 'ear if it is worth a cent. Every one ells me the same thing that you do. am discouraged. I am despondent, don't care what happens to me." And then the miss wept some more. Of course, under the rare condiions even a lawyer's heart will turn, ie produced a silver dollar and subcribed on the spot. "Don't cry, little girl," said the lawyer. "Be brave; work hard; perse:ere; everything will come out all ight in the end." And the little girl loft the office vith a "thank you." This story would have been all right f it were not for the fact that Bones, he doctor, had entered the lawyer's >ffice some minutes later to tell him of i strange case that had transpired in lis office. The case had to do with a oung woman of average good looks vho was soliciting subscriptions for a lollar magazine. "I was never so affected in my life." said Dr. Bones. "I refused to sunscribe, and the girl actually broke lown in tears. I never saw any one :o discouraged." "Did you subscribe?" said the lawyer. "Certainly I did." said Dr. Rones. "So did I," said the lawyer, "and she wept here, too." An investigation proved that the .'oung woman of crying propensities lad taken thirteen subscriptions on hat floor, which would have been a 'air day's work, even if she had gone to further.?Kansas City Star. ^tUscctlanrous ^fading. HAYTI'S STRANGE, AGED RULER. Nord Alexis Unlike Any Ohter Known Potentate. Port Au Prince, Hayti, April 10.? Possibly somewhere in the jungles of Africa or perhaps in the mystic east or on the planet Mars there Is a president, potentate, shah, rajah, sultan or other sort of ruler who is as strange and grotesquely impossible as President Xord Alexis of Hayti, but certainly there is none to compare with him in this hemisphere. Castro of Venezuela, that "monkey of the Andes," comes close, perhaps, but Cas- 1 tro's style differs, and while he defies the great powers of the earth he does i not approach in pure picturesqueness the venerable old man who sits in the presidential palace here and runs this i little black republic to suit himself. 1 Imagine a typical Ethiopian between 9ft and lftft years of age. bloodthirsty and apparently only half civilized, a dealer of death to political en emie.s. a believer in voodooism, and you have a faint idea of what he is. For anything more one must come to 1 Hayti and see for himself. For one hundred and five years the country has been under the same sort of rule as now. The natives gained their independence from the French, and since that time the history of the country has been a record of strife and bloodshed. 1 Shut off from all the rest of the ' world, it has gone on a downward path until now it seems that nothing can save it from utter ruin except intervention by the powers. No steps have recently been taken toward saving what Is left and building upon it. The government robs the people, and the people, thoroughly accustomed to this 1 procedure, don't seem to care much. Alexis rules with a hand of iron. Some day a revolution against him will doubtless be successful, if he lives until another may be organized, but for the present his will is law. A personal or political enemy is dealt with summarily and harshly. The shooting of twenty-seven alleged conspirators on March IS by order of Alexis is the most recent example of his way of ruling, yet as time passes and the perspective is larger that slaughter will be but a mere detail in the history of his regime, perhaps one of the worst details. but not so very much worse than many other things which have been done and others which will be done, no doubt, unless foreigners take charge of things. The character of Alexis is easly accounted for. His father was a so-called prince of Cape Haytlen, the northernmost part of the country. Alexis the elder held a high position in the household of Emperor Henry Christophe, a barbarian, who left behind him when he committed suicide in 1820 a 1 horrible trail of blood and deeds which native historians pass over as "many unfortunate acts." The ideas of Chrlstophe were hand- 1 ed down to Alexis, himself a page to 1 the emperor. A mighty and brutal man was Christophe, whose history as told here is scarcely believable. Once Chrlstophe doubted the loyalty of the chief of police of Port au Prince, and thereupon he asked this officer if he was really loyal. The chief naturally enough said he was. whereupon Christophe told him to prove it by bringing the heads of his, the police chief's, wife and daughter, which the chief did, and Christophe was con vinced of his love and support. At another time Christophe became enraged with the French and issued a decree that thereafter the official language would be English, and that if after twenty-four hours any one spoke French in his presence he would be executed. To complete the transformation he changed his own name to Henry and has since been known as Christophe and Henry and sometimes as Henri Christophe. The traditions of Christophe which have been handed down from the last century deal with nothing save bloodshed and the atrocities he committed. His own death was violent and also somewhat on the heroic order. In 1820 he was stricken with paralysis. whereupon his political enemies ? started a revolution. He swore to cure himself of his ailment and attempted to do so with a bath in a solution of herbs and peppers. It gave him mo memary reuci, ciiduku u> pnimi mm to mount his horse and start for the front. The paralysis quickly took hold again and Christophe was carried back to his bed. His soldiers went forth to battle with the rebels, Christophe directing the campaign. Then came the news of desertions from the government ranks and the revolution was thus made successful. When the king received this information he shot himself through the heart. It is doubtful if any one ( mourned the loss. Having been Imbued with this sort of rule, it is perhaps not surprising that Alexis is the man he is. although more than fourscore years have gone by since Alexis used to wait upon the Emperor Christophe. Alexis came into the presidency in 1902 by force, as have all presidents of Hayti. He had made other efforts in previous years, ( but had never been successful. Were it not for the earnestness displayed the whole situation would , seem absurdly impossible. It is useless to call it opera bouffe, for from that point of view it is even more. The most picturesque part of life here' is ( the army with its scores of generals , and all. It is extremely funny to a foreigner but the soldiers themselves , take it most seriously. President Alexis on a Sunday morngranted an interview to the correspondent of The Sun. The audience was given in a reception room of the presidential residence. This executive mansion lies in the southern part of the city. It is built of brick and wood, two stories in height, and strange to say is painted a slate color, with a dark and modest roof. The building itself is surrounded by a compound enclosed in an iron fence, with another surrounding that, giving two lines of protection. On the east and north of the executive reservation lies the vast Champ de Mars, in the centre of which is a huge statue of Dessalines, who exterminated the whites .in 1803. The Champ de Mars is like unto nothing pise than a bit of pasture land, where d a flock of sheep and many goats are t< constantly grazing. There are no b irlves or roadways: the native car- it riages drive anywhere in the reserva- h tion, and thus a network of roads, or trails, has marred impossibly what lc could easily be made an attractive tl <pot, tl On this Sunday morning there was T i review of soldiers within the palace b grounds. This the foreigners did not b *ee. possibly because the soldiers were l< not in good form, or possibly because no one thought about extending them tl an Invitation. tf rrUrt c* ornnn/lc iq I T I lit- CUliaiiCC IU kllV. QIVU.IUW .? through a large gateway, a passage on li each side for pedestrians and a larg- g er one in the centre for horses and vehicles. Half clad soldiers tlllefl the u street outside and thronged the com- ti pound within. li The uniform?perhaps too dignified a a word?of the private, who is a sol- c dler only occasionally and a street la- li borer at all other times, consists of a sort of blouse, trousers tattered and tl torn and a dilapidated hat. The in- e variably wretched condition of the o hats was surprising. Xn one ranking d under the grade of colonel seemed to c have need for shoes. e The officers of higher rank were t uniformed brilliantly, but no two were , alike. It seemed that each officer v must have eoncActed his own dress. 1 Sometimes there were brilliant scar- e let breeches with a purple stripe, b sometimes the order was reversed and 0 another dash of color given by a green '' coat with a vast amount of gold lace. r There was a marvelous variety of hats, the cockades with worn aigrettes ^ resembling nothing more than a moth ^ eaten feather duster. 0 There was a pause in our progress c at the gateway, and a general?he must have been that at least?was r called. He gave the sign, and after r standing aside to permit the exit of 8 half a dozen privates we were per- a mitted to enter by the sentry. 11 This individual sat on a boxllKO ?j chair at one side of the gate. He had In his possession a long rifle, a ehasse- I pot of the type turned out about '70, a with a bayonet. The butt of the gun t rested between his bare-heels as he to sat on the box; the point of the bay- to onet supported the gun against the ' upright part of the gate, this making c the opposite side of a barrier. To a permit passage the energetic sentinel f lazily reached down and lifted the ti gun toward him. then, after the party had passed through, he let it drop c back into place. \ The broad driveway was guarded t by a number of soldiers and a small \ brass cannon, a Xapoleon. The gen- 1 eral smell of the place was neutral- \ ized a bit by sweet perfume from the t rose gardens on either side. Presl- s dent Alexis is a great lover of flowers. 1 we were told. The doors of the palace were three. 1 each with a chesspot leaning dlag- \ onally across, as at the other gate, t with a darkey sentinel to watch it. A f highly colored?both in uniform and t otherwise?officer nodded toward a I sentinel and the party went through. g The first object seen within was a . * rinounllnoo a hnrrihle looking t U list U1 1/cooau.ivw, _ black creature. Behind It was the most t surprising thing in the palace, aside I from the president, a beautiful marble i statue of a boy. evidently French, and v white as could be. The general effort * to have black predominate was every- I where else, and the presence of this < beautiful white boy was something of r, shock. * The second floor was reached by a curving wooden stairway, rather rickety ? and not altogether clean. More sen- s tinels. There were sentinels and sen- I tinels. but the best of all was he who guarded the entrance of the reception ' room. ( In the stateh his uniform would be I called overalls except for the red fac- * ing. He sat on a box at one side of ' the door and never arose. In his hand j he had a long unsheathed sabre?un- ) sheathed, a glance showed, because he ' owned no scabbard. It was his duty . to allow no unauthorized person to ( cass. When one he knew not approached he barred the entrance by jabbing the point of the sabre into the door casing opposite, and he kept It there < until a word from some officer or official. Generals and cabinet ministers pass- s ed by now and then, but this sentinel j gave no sign of recognition. Every few j minutes he dropped to sleep, to be t suddenly awakened by the clatter of i his sabre as it dropped from his relax- \ >d hand, or by some person passing by. He sprawled over his chair in a loose jointed heap, like nothing else than a. Mississippi river darky holding down a. bale of c >tton on the levee of a sunny ifte rn ion. The reception room was marvelous. * faded and much worn green carpet covered the floor. The walls and ceil:ng had a green paper of peculiar design, and from the ceiling hung a chandelier of Belgian crystal evidently long in disuse, for an exposed coll of wire hung from another part of the ceiling1 with an electric bulb. Around the top of the room on threp of its sides hung portraits of about twenty presidents of Hoyti. Every one was black as could be. and there were some most ferocious looking individuals. The pictures of Dessallnes predominated. although those of North Alexis were a close second. Leaning against the south wall was a huge portrait of Dessallnes on a horse. It reached from the floor almost to the ceiling and was certainly* a wonderful work. Yes. the president's nephew said, it was painted by a local artist. It looked It. The horse was a tremendous bav and was as much of,a physical impos- 1 nihility as its rider. One foot of the- j horse was judiciously placed on the ( French tlag, another upon a cat o'- ( nine tails, a third on a broken chain, f while the other was suspended in the j air as if the steed were impatient to . be on its way to the unknown destination off to the southwest toward which . Dessalines was pointing with his , sword, while turning to look back to the southwest over his right shoulder. , If Dessalines himself had ever actual- { ly assumed such a position he would j never have been murdered, as he was . later, for he would have passed away . then and there with a broken neck. At the other end of the room therewas a life size painting of a woman with a bale of grass under one arm and a sickle in the other hand. She- * represented labor, and as the women 0 most o? the work In Haytl It was ;chnlcally correct. On the centre tale was a bottle with a full rigged ship iside. Of course every one wondered ow It got there. The state department rested on a >ng wicker settee In the shape of iree or four large journals. Across tie room was a satin covered sofa, 'he arms were broken off and could e seen underneath, where they had een thrown as a matter of conven?nce. Presently there filed Into the room tie members of the president's mllliry staff and those of the cabinet, he soldiers were gaudily uniformed 1 green, red and purple, with gobs of old lace. One man wore a French tropical nlform of white, the simplest cosiime In the room. The others were i direct contrast, being In costumes s loud and brilliant as those of any omlc opera ever produced anywhere i the states. President N'ord Alexis came In on he arm of the cleverest man in the ountry, Mr. Mnrcelin. the minister f commerce und finance. He was ressed In a dark green uniform. The oat was like a regular frock and overed with four rows of brass butons, two on each side. The coat was open, showing a ralsteoat which reached clear up to he white linen color, which wasrathr out of shape. An old ready made lack tie hung negligently to the colr button. But the uniform has no nterest when one's eyes rest upon the nan. When In his prime. Alexis must have ?een over six feet tall and very strong, til that Is left now Is the framework f what was formerly a splendid speImen of physical manhood. His legs and body seem a mass of nere bone, shrunken until almost lothlng Is left. His hands are long .nd bony and themselves show great ge. On one finger of his right hand le wore two tremendous diamonds In me setting. He had no other Jewelry. The face was as black as dould be. t was far more Ethiopian than the average negro In the north. The prolle was almost triangular, one side teginning with the low. sloping forelead and ending at the mouth, with ts full lips concealing a Jungle of dlsolored teeth. The chin dropped itralght off and was large, receding In olds of loose, hanging skin to the ierk. A twisted mass of sparse hair dec>rated the huge and long upper Hp, vhile a small goatee appeared from he lower. He wore gold spectacles vhlch partially concealed his eyes, rhe orbs were sunken and that part vhlch should be white was discolored o a sort of brown, making It Imposilble to distinguish where the pupil onH fho nfhor nart hPCin. The president speaks splendid French, and the entire conversation vas in that language. Marcelin stood >y and was very attentive. He head>d off embarrassing questions and was svidently there to extricate the presdent from any conversational entanglement as well as to act as a witness. The others stood in a semicircle off 0 the right of the corner in which he president had his chair placed, llexis showed no hesitancy in answerng all questions. He understood what vas wanted, and being anxious to lave the northern papers say the iroper thing he tried to put his side )f the situation forward. When the interview was at an end 1 round of champagne was served. The president himself merely tasted i concoction of cola, which he had lome difficulty Iti getting to his lips, lis hand trembled so. Alexis is in touch with everything n the government. Nothing can be lone without his consent. A newspajer man recently took a trip on a iaytien gunboat. He was assigned ;o a certain room and asked to have mother. The request was refused and t was explained that the president lad directed that he take that partlcllar cabin. This is but one Instance of his mas:ery of the details of running this ountry. POPULAR PHRASES. Some Familiar Lines That Are Con* ' stantly Misquoted. Critics who assert that we gejt more ilovenly and careless every day in speech, manners and customs have iroof of part of their assertion at any ate in the manner in which the writngs of famous authors are continually >eing misquoted and distorted. In Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner" are hese words: "Water, water everyvhere, nor any drop to drink." Nlney-nlne people In a hundred say, "and lot a drop to drink" for the last line. Again, how often we hear people ling, "Rule, Britannia, Britannia rules instead of rule) the waves," and luote Macbeth as saying, "Screw your tourage to the sticking point," instead >f "sticking place." Those two familar lines of Samuel Butler's, "He that compiles against his will Is of his own ipinion still." are usually misquoted is, "Convince a man against his will, le's of the same opinion still." Shakespeare never wrote "It's an ill vind that blows nobody good," alhough this is the version generally riven of the correct words from Heny VI.," which run. "Ill blows the wind hat profits nobody." Nathaniel Lee is ilmilarly treated In regard to his ihrase, "When Greeks joined Greeks hen was the tug of war," which more >ften than not is misquoted as "When ?reek meets Greek then comes the tug >f war." "Money Is the root of all evil" is a raveaty of the line from the first epistle of St. Paul to Timothy, "The ove of money is the root of all evil." \nother Scriptural passage which is '' ^*1 minted Is the sent ?nce from Proverbs, "Pride goeth be'ore destruction and an haughty spirit jefore a fall. The popular version is, "Pride goes before a fall." The fine phrase from Wolfe's poem, 'The Burial of Sir John Moore," which uns, "But we left him alone with his rlory," is very badly treated by people ,vho say, "Alone in his glory," while he correct words, as written by Long'ellow, of the phrase so often used. 'All things come to him who waits." ire. "All things come around to him vho will but wait."?London Tit-Bits. tr For short distances Germany has ipplied wireless telegraphy to railroad ruins.