The people. (Camden, S.C.) 1904-1911, March 16, 1905, Image 2
Impressions Ma Qe *'/' p*
by the Big Treeur]
By Stewart Edward White.
T
HE public at torse, I Imagine? meaning by that yoa and me. and
oar neighbors ? harbor an Idea that the Big Tree occur* only as a
-remnant, 19 scattered little groves carefully fenced and piously
visited by the tourist. What would we have said to the infor
mation that In the very heart of the Sierras there grows a thriv
ing forest of these great trees; thst it takes over a day to ride
throughout that forest? And that it comprises probe bly over
(,000 specimens?
Yet such is the esse. On the ridges end high plsteeus north of the Kaweah
Hirer Is the forest I describe; snd Of that forest the trees grow from fifteen
to twenty-six feet in diameter. Do you know^what that means? Get up from
your chair and pace off the room you are ia. If it is a very big room* Its
longest dimension would just about contain one of the bigger trunks. Try to
Imagine a tree like that.
It must be columnar tree, straight and true as the supports of a Greek
facade. The least deviation from the perpendicular of such a mass would
cause It to fall. The limbs are sturdy like the arms of Hercules, and grow out
from the main trunk to themselves, as is the case with other trees. The column
rises with a true taper to its full height; then is finished with the conical effect
of the top of a monument. Strangely enough, the frond is exceedingly fine, and
the cones small.
When first you catch sight of a Sequoia, it does not lmoress you partlcu
, larly, except as a very fine tree. Its proportions are so perfect that Its effect
ts rather to belittle its neighbors than to show In it* true magnitude. Then,
gradually, as your experience takes cognizance of surroundings ? the sine of a
sugar-pine, of a boulder, of a stream flowing near ? the giant swells and swells
, before your very vision, until he seems at the last even greater 'than the mere
statistics of his inches had led you to believe.
. Perhaps the most insistent note, besides that of mere size and dignity, is
of absolute stillness. These trees do not sway to the wind; their trunks .are
constructed to stand solid. Their branches do not bend and murmur, for they,
too. are rigid in fiber. Their fine threadlike needles may mstch the breeze's
whisper, may draw together and apart for the exchange of confldences as do
the leaves of other trees, but If so, you and I are too far blow to distinguish it.
All about the other forest growths may be rustling and bowing and singing
with the voices of the air; the Sequoia stands in the hush of an absolute calm.
It is as though he dreamed, too wrapt in still- great thoughts of his youth, when
the earth itself was young, to share the worldlier Joys of his neighbor, to be
aware of them, even himself to breathe deeply. You feel in the presence of
these trees as you would feel in the presence of a kindly end benignant sage, too
occupied with larger things to enter fully Into your little affairs.
This combination of dignity, immobility, and a certain serene detachment
has on me very much the same effect as does a mountain against the sky.
It Is quite unlike the impression made by any other tree, hovever large, and
Is lovable. ? From "The Mountains," in the Outlook.
The Complex,
Not Me Simple Life
By ? F\ R. W."
A
LL this talk about the simple life strikes ecikcs of ** a little
out of time and place at present. "Omnia vanitas" is the de
spairing cry of the old man whose future has faded into disap
pointing reality; of a decadent civilisation that has drained the
cup and has lost all faith in the "worth-whiteness" of life. It is
the cry for rest.
Cynics were in place In the last act of the Roman Empire,
but what use for them has this age? Above all, what use for them has Amer
ica, that looks with eyes of faith toward the future, and girds itself like a vig
orous youth about to enter the race of life?
Let us hear rather the praises of the complex life. Is not all evolution
the proper growth from simplicity to complexity? Should the amoeba or the
nolusk be held up as an improvement on the human frame, or barbaric sim
plicity as a pattern for civilization?
The careworn man, distracted by bulls and bears and margins, by political
mad social aspirations, may be a fool in philosophical eyes; but I should say
rather, glory to this man of ambition who toils ceaselessly for a higher posi
tion, social or political. Glory to the strenuous worker, the martyr who
aacriflces happiness and ease to ambition and hence to the real progress of the
race. Is it to him, or to Diogenes in his barrel that we owe what we have
attained? *
It is easy to give up hope In our civilized complexity, to cry "All Is van
ity/' and to sigh for rest. But to toll on with unshaken faith ? I? there no
nriArit <n
The Secret qf Yankee Success
By T. P. O'Connor.
I
M that place called Monte Carlo every time the wheel turns and the
ball rolls Into its place it marks a fresh condition of the game,
an absolutely new chance which has nothing whatever to do
with anything that has gone before or is to appear in the future.
Each spin is the year one of the bank. Therefore the bank xvh'iS.
America has appreciated the year one, and that fact has not
been unconnected with Yankee success. You will And that a
man loses money as n rarmer, a mechanic, a book canvasser, and suddenly
lises to wealth as a builder. The pes has found the hole at last.
An Englishman, unappreciative of the year one. would have been chained
to failure by the precedent of centuries. He would have argued that he had
always been a farmer, that his father wa,s a farmer and his uncle a dairyman.
Therefore it was plainly Impossible that he could ever make njonev as a
builder. In conclusion* ho would have quoted you that falsest of all false
proverbs. "A rolling stone gathers no moss."
I say "false" only In tho English application of the ancient proverb. For
otherwise it is an up-to-date motto enough. The rolling stone of today remains
polished and fit for business. The stationary stone Is liable to accumulate such
a quantity of moss that It Is only fit for a cushion ? to ba sat on by all and
sundry.
There Is in America today an exemplification of the principle of the year
one i.i a newspaper proprietor with somo eighty thousand pounds rt year to his
credit. Until he was over fifty years of age he was a farmer, and not a very
efficient farmer at that. Then he started his paper, and away he went on the
road to success. How many of our farmers could change their trade after
fifty?
Living a Lie.
Those People Who Dress op Live Beyond Their Means
By O. S. Marden.
D
RESS1NQ or living beyond one's means Is nothing less than abso
lute dishonesty. If you are trying to do what you cannot afford
to do, you are living a lie; if you are wearing clothes that you
cannot afford, they are perpetual witnesses against you. They
are labeled all over with falsehood; your Jewelry, your carriages,
I your furs and your costly gowns tell mo that you are rich when
you live in ? poverty-stricken home and whan vonr nmthn? to
obliged to make all sorts of sacrifles to enable you to make this false display,
you lie Just as surely as you would If you should try to deceive me by
your words.
Tho consciousness of being well dressed, and yet owing for It, of riding
In carriages which one cannot afford, or of patronizing expensive hotels and
restaurants which ono cannot by any stretch of imagintlon or sophistry afford,
Is destructive to all rcspect, to truth and honesty and to manhood' and to
womanhood. You cannot afford to wear lies or to eat lies any inorc than you
can afford to tell lies.
There Is only ono possible result upon character of falsehoods whether
acted or told, and that Is porpetual deterioration arid demoralization. No one
can live a lie, or act a lie, without being dishonest. When a man sacfllces
his honesty he loses the mainspring of his character, and he cannot bo per
fectly honest when he Is lying by frequenting costly hotels or restaurants by
Wearing expensive clothing or by extravagant living when he cannot afford it ?
Success.
Fuji Was Out.
There Is In Japan a great ?now
capped mountain called Fuji, which
Shlntolsts worship, and whioh nearly
?11 tourists make It a point to visit.
Dr. Oliver O. J. Schadt, president of
the People's College in Philadelphia,
lately returned from St. Petersburg
and the Bast, relates* that an Ameri
can woman who recently toured Ja
pan was asked if she had visited
Fuji.
"Well, yes; in a way t did." answer
Mondei.
That love l? dead I krfow not who tc
r.nmr
For venture now. I sometime* think, In
hU ml
,Of inv own wlf. you are the one tc
tlame
'I'hut love Is dead.
The ros* for mo will never he n* red.
Now thnt Wl vcpntnte; no more the
*nme
Tlio pomp of Hummer on the hills b?
MprcAd,
Thut love ?* dead.
Ard *r"l of shove enjoyment row wlllelatm
The noon of night, whon dimmer over
head
The silver crescent hides In mlat, foi
shame
Thst love Is d?-ad.
? AJonio Rlo?, In Ln'i llipilM.
/ *
ed the woman. "I called to ate her
one afternoon but ahe happened ta
bo out."
A Tennessee churcfi has taken out
an Injunction to prevent certain of Its
members from Installing an organ in
the church. Nt>w If .It will tune out
an Injunction to prevent the soprano
from Insisting on ringing a aolo every
Sunday all will be well, thinks the At>
lanta Journal.
World's Sugar Production.
The total production of sugar
throughout the world Is about 2,000.
000 tons per annum. Of this quantity
nine-tenths aro afforded by the sugar
cane. 2fi, 000.000 tons of which are re
quired to produco the above quantity
of cane suRar. The total value of the
sugnr In the cane, It' It. could l?e ex*
tracted, would bo about $200,000,000.
but one-hnlf Is lost In tho process of
manufacture.
Aomo men are so busy solving ths
labor problem that they have no tims
wQ oarn thslr own living.
W
Jm/
id bugles played;
ear*.
and tears.
? Every day, eTerr^di^Bettinj your back
'And alt your reward forever not quite
A full bit*
Of bread for your babies. Say!
In the beat of the day
You might be a hero to head a brigade, ,
But a hero like her? I'm afraid! I'm afMidf
It might be very feasible to force a great reform.
To saddle public passion and to ride upon tha atorm; . I
It might be somewhat simple to ignor* thft rdkr of wrath.
Because a necond shout broke out to cheer |ovQg vo?r path.
But he who, alone and unknown, is trqa ?
To his view.
Unswenred by the crush of the mutton-browed
Biatting crowd,
Unwon by the flabby-brained, blinking, cast.
Which he sees
Throned and anointed. Say!
At the height of the frar.
You might be the chosen to captain the throng;
But to stand all alone? How long? How long?
? Edmund Vance Cooke, in Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post.
I
A Strange Temptation,
t .1 14
By Sidney J. Murray.
I
T'S all settled. Kit," cried
> a slim, beautiful girl, in a
? hard, despairing voice tliat
1 she ' lierself knew was
strange; "no more poverty,
and no ? more pinching.
We've lind our share mid enough of it,
aud now we'll have 110 more."
The speaker drew off her gloves leis
urely, and held her hands to the ruddy
blaze. ?
She looked wondrously beautiful an
?he bent there, her eyes a thousand
miles a'way through the glowing coal,
and with the firelight playing around
her aquiline nose and perfect iips. And
as she stood, her sister watched her in
the gathering twilight, and thought
she never -saw her look so beautiful,
nor yet so truly strange.
"Oh. Mabel, have you really accepted
the darling old millionaire at last?
How truly delightful!",
Kitty jumped up from the sofa and
clapped her hands, her face express
ing intense delight. Oh, how beauti
ful to have Just as much money as you
want, and everything you can set your
mind on It! Truly, the prospect was
grand, and Kitty laughed with her
seventeen-year-old laugh, and danced
prettily with all the abandon and Jol
lify of seventeen years.
She completed the circuit by halting
at her sister's side, who still gazed
into the firelight, with her face filled
with an odd mingling of love nnd bit
terness. Kitty knew full well what
was passing lu Mabel'* mind, and she,
but yet seventeen, could not feW. or
had not lived long enough to feel,
what It was or what it meant.
And yet she was Just a little somber.
Just a little depressed, as she put one
hand Into her sister's and the other
round her shoulders.
"Poor Mab!" she said; "how sad you
look !" <
"I have reason to bo sad." responded
Mabel, with a short, hollow laugh;
"I've chosen the road that's to be mine
till death!"
A catch in her voice that was
hot natural to Mabel caused Kitty to
draw her closer and comfort her as
best she could; and ns she thought of
nil It meant, and nil It would bring to
them both, she burst Into a reckless
laugh that became seventeen years so
?well.
"You have chosen just what I should
??wenlth. Oil. think of it. Mabel!
Think what our future will be when
you are mistress of Mr. Johnson's
lovely mansions and fortune! Hut 1
knew j ou d do it, Mabel. I knew vou
would. It's Just what I should have
done myself."
"Don't, Kit. don't." pleaded Mabel,
In a voice so strained and sad that
Kitty looked up alarmed: "you don't
know what you're saying, and you
don't know what you mean. You have
never been called upon by stern neces
sity to sacrifice your own true love,
who Is ail the world to you, to marry
an old man's millions."
"No. I haven't," replied Kitty, quick
ly, with all the determination of her
experience, "but If I had to I would.
I shouldn't hesitate a single minute
between the young love without a dol
lar. nnd millions? and especially if the
owner of the millions chanced to be
?uch a fine-looking man as Mr. John
son is, and you know," she went on,
coloring a little, "he is really hand
some, Mabel, and he Is only forty. I
wish It was me he was going to marry,
and not you."
A smile overspread Mabel'* features,
and she laughed outright. The Idea of
such a charming slip of loveliness an
Kitty being the wife of a middle-aged
millionaire! It wns too absurd.
"Anyway," continued Kitty, feeling
that something wns expected of her in
extenuation of her conduct, and pout
ing a little, "you should take it more
happily. It isn't light not to."
And then, as Kitty turned to the tea
things on the table, the hunted, pained
?Ok swept back fnto Mabel's pale
face, nnd she sighed heavily.
"IIow thoughtless she Is," she mur
mured. "and cruel. It seems a light
tiling, this, to give up niy love for pelf
for her sake. Yes." she said, half
savagely, "for her sake, not mine. If
it were not for her his money would
have been as dirt to me. 1 know what
poverty is. but the bitterness Is swec!
compared with a life without love,
without him. And he comes here to
night. and, Oo l forgive me. I must tell
him." and a shudder shook her frame.
"Mabel," cried Kitty, ns lightly and
ns happily ns though ill-starred loves
had never come her wny, "tea's all
ready." and then Mabel tried her best
to look pleased nnd happy, and told
Kitty what happened to her In her ca
pacity as daily governess, nnd Kitty
had some new story to tell of dear
delightful Mr. Johnson.
"I>ear. darling Mab." thought Kitty,
as hor eyes rested fondly upon her sis
ter. "I've never had a trouble yet
bless her dear old heart, but what she
hasn't helped me out of It; and now
she's going to lift us right out of tho
worst trouble of all? tbis horrid pror
?rty."
And later, ?when Iliu1olf Turner, Ma
bel's handsome, manly lover, came
upon the scene. Kitty ran off to spend
her evening with Ada Brown, who had
the flat below.
"Poor chap," thought Kitty, commls
eratlngly, as she saw the hopeful love
light in his eyes as he rested his gaze
upou all he loved in the world, "you'll
be sent away to-night, I know; I'm
awfully sorry for you, but, after all. it
can't be helped. What is love, any
way, when It means everlasting prov
erty? She'll forget all about it when
she Is Mrs. Johnson. Why, it'll be just
like fairyland after this!"
And pretty Kitty, worldly because
she had never felt the fire of love, went
off to Ada Brown.
And those two? They remained to
gether. with all they both loved, in that
small room.
She had kept him hoping on for
weeks, trying to decide the bitter
struggle that raged in her breast.
Now that it was all over, she knew
her course, and he was to hear it to
night. ?,
How she told him she knew not; a
dull clutching held her heart, and she
was conscious only of those words
which would keep them apart for ever
more.
As through a curtain that seemed to
hide from her the fearful wrong she
wrought, she saw his face become
deadly pale, and his eyes darken with
u strange despair.
"And this is the end!" he said. In a
low. hoarse voice that sought her heart,
and stilled it; "this is the end I dreaded!
These are the last of those enchanted
dreams that kept me for you, and you
for me ? crushed beneath the feet of
the womaa I worshiped, the woman I
loved with all my heart and soul,
better than life itself? ruined and scat
tered by you M
"Don't, Rudolf, don't reproach me,"
sh<j solilted.
"I don't reproach you, Mabel; why
should I ? According to the world, you
have done wisely. You have chosej)
what is worthy of beauty such as
yours? and what matters it that you
have walked over one man's blooding
heart to gain it?"
II is answer was her sobbing and her
quivering frame; and he rose.
CouUl she lose him like that?
??Rudolf," she said, "it is for Kitty's
sake? not mine? don't, oh, don't judge
me harshly."
"For her sake! What of mine?" he
said, with a hard, cold laugh? uml he
was gone.
The next day the millionaire's be
trothal ring, a magnificent circlet of
diamonds and rubies, glistening on Ma
bel's lovely hand, and, urged by her
fiancee and Kitty, she consented to an
early wedding.
Mr. Johnson was a constant visitor
at the little flat, and Kitty, whom he
treated as a petted sister, was never
tlrvd of expatiating at great lengths on
his charms to Mabel. She thought he
was absolutely tire most delightful
man she had ev<r met, and how stupid
it was of Mabel not to fall in love with
him!
Mabel smiled when she listened to
these extravagant comments, and, ex
cept when alone, contrived to keep her
face so bright and so radiant, that it
was little wonder Kitty only half
gue-^ed what a sacrifice Mabel was
making.
The days rolled on, am" It was Just a
week before the day appointed for the
wedding, that Mabel, while on a shop
pirg tour, came upon an old friend of
he/ schooldays.
"And do you know, Mabel," she snhl
at parting, "that Rudolf Turner is seri
ously 111 with brain fever. They tell
me It Is some love trouble. Poor
fe.'.ow. 1 hope he gets over It."
.Mi that evening and the nert morn-'
In:: Mabel was lost In her own dismal
thoughts. It was late In the afternoon
when she suddenly-' sprang up. and.
white and resolute, flung away her
sewing, the light of passion firing her
eyes.
"Kitty, I can't and won't stand it an
hour longer!" she cried; "Rudolf Tur
ner is perhaps dying, aud he Is mine!
I am going to him."
I "Mabel." said Kitty, "are yoti mad?"
! "I have been, but I'm san > once
' *>iore! My heart is Rudolf's, and he
..lone shall have It!"
She wrenched away her betrothal
ring, and threw It. Into her sjpter's inp.
"There!" she said; "give it back to
Mr. Johnson, if he comes, and tell him
the marriage is not to be."
And. before Kitty could find words,
she was alone.
Long after, when Mabel returned,
her face held such exquisite happiness
that Kitty started up In wonder.
"Oh, Mabel, how happy you look! I
know you r.re now."
"Yes, dear, I an. happy, and so is Ru
dolf: and he will get well, and then "
Hut she bethought herself of what
she left behind and her face (lushed
with pain.
"I>Id he come? Poor boy!"
"Don't be sorry, Mab," returned
Kitty, very demurely, and ;wlth ?
d<*p|y fll
kwt you h]
}fl
Ut jBj&ty flui
uttflv, I ?
toSKPi".* r?piW*ltty. slm* |
ply.
There were two weddings a little
later from the tint, ciul. Immediately
after, Mr. Johnson presented Mabel
with a check for ten thousand pounds.
. "Will you have It?" he asked, "as a
wedding gift from j*our brother and
alster? Kit says it includes both love
and pelf."? New York Werkly.
The proposed bore-hole twelve mifes
deep has brought out the objection that
the great pressure of forty tons per
square inch would cause a viscous
flow of rock material, making the feat
impossible. The IIou. A. C. Parsons
replies that this idea can be tested |
by subjecting a piece of quartz rock
to a pressure of one hundred tons per
square inch in a close-fitting cylinder
having a small hole through its centre. |
This pressure is that expected at a
depth of thirty-eight miles.
The value of evidence has been tested
experimentally by M ile Marie Borst. I
Iler subjects were twelve males and
twelve females, and within a period of
six weeks there were shown five scenes
from daily life, which they were after
ward required to describe in writing,
and about which they were then in
terrogated orally. Statements under
oagt were required. The results show
that accurate evidence is rare, that evi
dence improves by practice, thai the
evidence of women is more faithful
and complete than that of men. but
thnt one-twelfth of the sworn state
ments are incorrect.
The bioscope of De Gasparls, which
constituted a late striking exhibit in
Naples, i? a microscope of very long
focus, the rock-mounted tube contain
ing a system og achromatic objectives
and an eye-piece of wide field. The
magnifying power is somewhat noro
than twelve diameters at a distance of
twenty Inches. The new Instrument
gi\es revelations that are marvelous,
as It shows the actions and emotions'
of such creatures as ants, spiders and
files in their ordinary undisturbed life,
gives wonderfully clear views of the
doings of aquatic auimals, and enables
the medical man to peer into the larynx
and other body cavities as never be
fore. It opens a new era in the study
of nature.
Museums of language will be of grent
Importance to the future historian. The
Idea was suggested in Vienna six years
ago, but has only recently tnken shape,
although it has alreadj' resulted in a
collection of <400 phonograph records
on durable metal. The purpose is to
record the languages of Europe, and
e\ eutually of the world, the music of
the different countries and speeche* Of
notable personages. The co'.lcetlon now
embraces the Slavic, Servian, modern
Greek, Portuguese and Brazilian lan
guages, with songs and dialects of na
tives of India and of Arabians and Be
douins. An expedition under Dr. roeeh
has peuetratert New Guinea to repro
duce the speech of the Papuans.
An extraordinary use of the same
sleeping quarters by diurnal and noc
turnal animals is recorded by a natural
ist of Ceylon. Barberyn Lighthouse
Island, thirty-five miles south of Co
lombo, is inhabited by day by fruit
bats or flying foxes, and at night by
crows, and at sunrise and sunset may
be seen the curious spectacle of two
immense (lucks (lying in opposite direc
tions across the strait separating the
Island from the mainland, the flying
foxes at a greater elevation than the
crows. The cross migration lasting
nbout half an hour, is attended by
great chattering of flying foxes anil
cawing of crqws.
.Ambnsrador Af?y?r and King Victor,'
Itoman society has suffered a double
loss lately in the appointment to Paris
of both the British and American Am
bassadors, until now accredited to the
Quirlnal.
Mr. George von Lengcrke Meyer, tho
Transatlantic representative, has won
golden opinions for himself here as a
sportsman and an all-round "good fel
low," being a favorite with the King
and a great friend of the Duke d'Aosta.
Ills motor car is one of the best known
In Itome, and so far has never killed
any one! One day he took the King
out in it, nnd feeling that law as well
as majesty was at bis side, kept well
within the speed limits. His majesty
?aid nothing at first, ami then intl
mated that they were taking some time
in arriving. Mr. Meyer made one effort
to escape responsibility and hinted that
If they outdistanced the royal bicycl
ists the King would be without protec
tion. "Not at all," said King Victor,
, drawing a small revolver from bis
pocket, "with this I can defy any one:"
The bicyclists arrived half an hour
after, draggled, worn and out of breath.
Mrs. M fryer may be said to keep open
house. The Brancncclo Paloce seems
made to show off her charming person
ality and the delicate beauty of her
compatriots. It is an embassy at
which society oxpccts-and Is never dis
appointed? to meet youth and beauty,
seo the lotest thing in gowns, admire
the most gorgeous jewels, eat the sea
son's greatest delicacy nnd dance the
newest dance.A-Itomo Correspondence
In London Pali Mall Gazette.
Canned Milk Preferred.
It was her first vlsif to the country, i
Mie never before had' been out of Chi
cago. Everything she saw was n fresh
dfilight. Eve In the garden could not
have found it more novel. The cows
especially Interested her.
At milking time slie clung so closelv
to tho hired man that to free himself
ho gave her a cup of nefv milk, warm
and frothy from the pail, fche to0k n
deep draught.
Then such consternation was pictured
in tho pretty, piquant face that her
mother cried: "What Is It, Dorothy?"
Oh," she sobbed In disgust and dls
f.TSlST"-. 7. <lon,t ,,kc i
Its horrid. I like mllkmnn't milk."*- I
Chicago Record-Herald,
)
OUR. GIRLS
ANDB013
* " BOT WEATHKJL ? I
It's tsx-timc when it freezes,
it't oojr-timt when it snows;
The Youngster is the one whose lot
is OipLiint when it mows.
It's rough on rheums t ism,
Ant! it seriously annoys
The dignity of grown folks, *? t '
But it's pretty good for boys.
It's iust another instance
When nature makes it plain
That in the mighty seheme of things
There's nothing made in vain.
Bo let's forget our sorrows
In a fellow-being's joys.
The weather's hard on grown folks.
But it's pretty good for boys.
?Washington Star.
A BUCKET RACE.
Tlere Is a now pastime for the days
when it is cold enough to cull your
skates out.
An old broom nnd a bucket are nec
essary for each player. The buckets
should be filled to the brim with water
and set iu front of their respective
owners.
The object Is to push the filled buck
ets of water a Riven distance across
the ice? the player who succeeds In
traversing the distance in the quickest
time wUm, providlrjr '*? retains more
HOW THX XACER8 APPEAR.
water In his buckct than the other*.
But if he spills more than does the boy
who comes in secoud, then the order of
finishing is reversed, and the second
boy in point of speed wins. A rule
can be used to measure the amount of
water remaining in the buckets.
If you are giving a skating party and
want to introduce some novelties, you
will And the bucket race will make a
lilt as one of them, as well as affording
the slower and more careful skaters a
chance to "even up" on their speedier
ajul more careless friends.? New York
Evening Telegram. ?*;
LITTLE PETT5.
Some time ago a consignment of hom
ing or carrier pigeons left Sau Fran
cisco for Auckland, New Zealand, to
be used in carrying communications
between Auckland and the (.rent Har
rier Island; and among the Utile feath
ered messengers was a bird named
Pete, which belonged to me. Pete was
always known as a wise fellow, his in
telligence at times causing people to
marvel. But Pete was a tramp; that
is, ho could not be depended on if
sent on a long trip, often loitering on
the way to hunt food or to play, per
haps staying out hours when he should
have been absent only minutes. So
l'ete was shipped away to b:? used as a
loft bird? one which stays at the home
loft to attract returning messengers.
Well, he went this time because he
couldn't help it; but his cunning played
a line trick on his new owners. This
bird was taken 2000 miles by land to
San Francisco; 2080 miles by water
to Hawaii; thence 22 lo miles by water
to tlio Samoa n Islands; thence Woo
miles by water to Auckland? in all
nearly 8000 miles, and? now Pete is at
home again!
The homecoming of this bird is little
short of marvelous, and this is how
he accomplished it. Watching care
fully for an opportunity to escape after
landing at Auckland. Pete took to bis
wings, and finding in the harbor the
vessel which bad carried him so far
from home, he radiated from its masts
In every direction, searching for a fa
miliar scene or object, which, of course,
he could not llnd so many thousand
miles away from bis American dove
cote. However, lie stayed near the
ship, perhaps thinking it would return
to America; but when the vessel Anally
steamed out, headed for Australia In
stead of the United States, Pete de
serted his perch and struck out straight
toward his home laud. So It happened
tlint the Lucy Belle, on old-fashioned
sailing vessel laden with lumber from
the Samoan Islands, when three days
from Christmas Island, was boarded by
an almost exhausted stranger, and the
stranger was nobody in the world but
j Mr. Pete.
As the old sailor Is a very superstl
! tlons being, l'ete was welcomed amid
cries of wonder at encountering a hom
ing pigeon In the middle of the Pacific
Ocean and was allowed to ride wher
ever he chose on shipboard. Tho bird
was kindly treated and fed, and one
day, during a storm which frightened
lii tn and drove the little tramp to shel
ter on deck, It was discovered that he
carried a small tag on one leg, bearing
a number ami his name. He was
placed in nf box with slats for bars,
and in this condition arrived in San
Francisco /Bay with the Lucy Hello,
Just as huppy at sight of land as any
member of the crew, who considered
him a mascot,
?The story of the Lucy Hello's mascot
soon spread among the slilprolk along
the wharves, and in a few hours Pole
was identified as having been shipped
some weeks before for Auckland. Then
it was that the people understood that
the crafty fellow was homeward
bound.
All this Is wonderful enough, but the
fact that Pete reached home unaided
over 2000 miles of land route Is, per
haps, only less wonderful, Bu\ he
did.
lov
It was argued on the I. ucy- Relief
a bird possessing a l>rain wise enoi.
to figure out an ocean voyage eol
reach his houie on. land; antl aft
some debate the sailors, seem
fastened a little story to Pete's W
reciting liis adventures s? fat; as knoi
to them, and turned him loose. H<
the dear little wanderer ins wl
home he alone can tell.
It took Pete nine days to lrnrel
'2<KM> miles, in covering which,
course, he must have stopped ofttenj
for. if he could have gone stralgl
home, the distance conhl have be
made in thirty or forty hour*,
who had sent him ott to Australia h<(
not the slightest idea that he was fhid
side of the equator or of the work
when, one morning not lor.g ago. Ml
IVte quietly hopped down from tb<
home loft and, without any fu<< what
ever, joined his males .-it :: J't^akfal
of com, wheat and crumirs!
Now, what ilo you think <>f him?
lie will never be sent away a gall
for there is not sutllciciit money a| tht
disposal of any one man to secure liim
If you know of any girls or hoys wh?.
are discontented at home, show then
this story of IVte. who ?o loved htf.
humble al>ode of rough hoard and bar*
straw that he outwitted cunning roe!
and defied the risks and hardships Ot
an 8000-mile journey over sea and lan<
in the effort to return to his lioiue.^
St. Nicholas.
A ri*il*<tolptitB Oaltant. f i
There Is nothing that astonishes
woman so much as meeting a man wh C
takes her at her word. A certain ver
Impetuous young woman, living In tl>
suburbs of this city, experienced th
un!?iue sensation when she attend*
a musical*? given by a friend and m'
a specimen of the too literal male. Si
was about to leave the house wb?
her hostess called after her: "Oh. dot;
tlihik of going out on such a stbril
night alone. Mr. G. will be glad to |
with you, won't you, Mr. turnil
to a gentleman at her right. "I>ellgtl ?
ed," said the would-be escort, beamit
on the young woman, and he sljpp^ ?
011 bis overcoat and stood ready wit? '
hat and umbrella in hand. "Oil, pleat
don't bother," sr.id the protesting gl t
"you know I am quite accustomed 1
going out alone; I am not the least b
afraid. I nearly always leave here ur.
escorted." "Oh, well, if that Is th {
case," said the stupid man, "I don
need to go, then. I would not think 4
interfering with your lifelong habits.
And without giving the iudependes.
young woman a chance t<> avail hM
*elf of his escort he threw off ids ovePr.
coat and joined a pretty blonde at th#
end of the hallway.? Philadelphia
llecord. ?
; I?- I
11?? Doc Lull; licit, c I
The proprietor of Third avcmut sto
owns a little black Uitu-n that eul /
vales a habit of squalling on 1
haunches, like a boar or a kangaroo)
ami thc!i sparring with it< foivpawd, at
11 it li.ul taken lessors from a pugilist.
A gentleman took into ; lie store the
other evening an enormous black do&
hall' Newfoundland. half collie, fat,
good-natured ami intelligent. Tile tinjj
black kitten, instead nf no'.tiug at OUCf
for shelter, retreated a !'. \v paces, *a(
erect on its hind less, and "put
lists" in an attitude of d. !i.i nee. Thq
contrast in size betwceji tin- two \fai
immensely amusing. 1' ivinindt'd on?
of Jack the <!iant Kill -r preparing t<j
demolish a giant.
Slowly, and without n sign
citabllily. the huge iiog walked
as his chain would allow him. n
gazed intenily at the kiiicti ami it? o
posture. Then. a* (I;.- comicality of
the situation struck him. h.? turned
head nml shoulders around to the g|
tators. and if animal ever laughed
the world thai dog as ur?dtyi didj
then and there. He neither barked
growled, but indulged in a low chuck]
while eyes and mouth beamed wlt|
merriment.? New York Telegram ^
of r j
as /
A Patriotic "Mutiny.", *'?
"Crow mutinied. Proceeding to
inoutli," was 1 ho signal of the Britl
steamer Kiiwitldcn read by the It
out 111:111 at the Lizard tin1 otlief aft?fl
noon.
On arrival of the voftfcel at Kalm<
tlio whole of the harbor police, as
as tin? town police, had mustered
ileal with tlio mutineers. O11 hoar<
the Kuwiddcn, however, tliey as<|
tallied that the whole ??f the flrei>;
seven in number, and :ili Bridal
had merely refused duty.
The Knwiddeii left Newport on 1
day, bound with coals for La' Pli
When two days out the tireineu
pectcil that the destination of tin
sol wan not La Plata but the Far Ell]
and that the coal was intended for
Baltic tleet. They t hereupon 'reini
further duty, but untlerhiok to coal'
tires if the ship was put back to
nearest British port. There wa?'
violence.
Asked why I10 signalled such
alarming messnne t ?? the Lizard,
captain replied that he thought, b(
New Year's hay. the authorities
not be on the alert to receive
less ho frightened thein.? Lo)
Chronicle.
(itoyf* Not ? Necr-nilty.
"This thing of wearing gloves to',
your bauds warm." said a rony-fi
policeman, "is about the biggest fj
1 know of. There is nothing In i|
have been a cop for twenty years, 1
I have never worn a glove, wlnte.
<M1iiimcr, except when the rule*) of
department compelled me to do bo,
then I did it under protest. Oil
hinder the free circulation of the blj
and that mokes your hind* cold,
face get used to the cold, anil ,
better In frosty weather than at
other time, and so will the handi
you let thein aloue."? New York 81
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