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3?HE StTSTDAlT OKEG02vIA2s. POBTINDj JASTTJ-AJRY 6. lS9o.
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THE 1VIXTER KOBIX.
2ow Is that sad time of year
"When no flower or leaf Is here;
When In misty Southern ways
Oriole and jay have flown.
And of all sweet blrde, alone
The robin stays.
To give thanks at Christmas tide;
Hopes of spring time yet abiae!
See. In spite of darksome days.
Wind and rain and bitter chill.
Show and sleet-hur.g branches, still
The robin stays!
Thomas Bailey Aldrich.
flapoleor?'? Oplij Sop
The son of Napoleon I, Francis Charles
Joseph Napoleon Bonaparte, kins f
'.-Rome, Duke of Reichstadt. Prince of
I Parma, was ushered Into the world with a
' pomp, rapturous acclaim and eulogy, that
told of his precious dignity and import
ance. It was nearly at the cost of her
own life that the Empress Marie Louise
presented Napoleon with this eagerly de
sired heir. Never has there been a more
forcible exemplification of the truth that
"man proposes, God disposes," than in the
"destiny of her child.
At the infant's flrbt walling cry, his ex
ultant sire saluted the pink morsel of
Imperial humanity as king of Rome, and
lestowed upon the puling babe the great
eagle of the Legion of Honor, the grand
oross of the Iron Crown, and the order of
The Golden Fleece. When the baby was
"baptized in the Cathedral of Notre Dame
"by Cardinal Fesch, an archduke of Aus
tria and the mother of Napoleon were
liis sponsors. O shades of Schonbrunn
and pining eaglet of France! How dif
ferent the ending from the beginning.
It had been announced that if the child
-were a son, 100 salvos should be flred from
the cannon of the Paris fortifications.
Should it prove only a daughter, 21 were
deemed sufficient to herald the event.
At C o'clock on the morning of the 20th
of March, 1811. the first bellow of the braz
en mouths told the people that Napoleon
liad become a father. Peihaps it was
the French passion for dramatic effects
that made the interval between the 21st
and 22d roar of the cannon longer than
that between any of ttie others. Doubt
less the breathless eagerness of the peo
ple made it seem longer than it was. But
3t came, a louder boom than ever. And
"before the grey dawn had caught its echo
the populace was shouting, rushing wildly
about, thronging to the Tuilleries, and
wearing out their lungs in clamorous
erecting of the king of Rome.
Apartments on the ground floor of the
Tuilleries were set apart for the young
3:ing, and all the force and worth of
Madame de Montesqulen were given un
stintedly to moulding him for his high
The following Incident Is a proof that
she went about It well. One day the king
of Rome got Into a fit of rage as violent
and plebian as if he were the baby of a
sansculotte. The countess quietly had
all the curtains drawn. Struck by the
udden gloom Francis Charles demanded
an explanation of the thing. "One day,"
T&plled the countess gravely, "you mubt
jrovern these people who are outside the
windows. And I did not wish them to see
you in such an unworthy fit of anger."
But it was not long the Tuilleries and the
subordination of all his world to his train
ing for imperial power. Before his prpud
father could complete the palace which he
liad started for his son on the Seine op
poslto the bridge of Jena. Napoleon I was
an Idol overthrown. In 1814 the allies en
tered Paris. A little later the empress
another and her Infant son were In flight
accompanied uy the faithful Countess of
Montesqulen. It was a flight not without
its dangers. It was the beginning of part
second in the life of the king of Rome,
and from then to the wretched end, when
after violent convulsions the wasted Duke
of Reichstadt died with a piteous cry for
Ills mother on his lips, the sadness of it
lias hardly any relief.
The separation of the boy and his father
at this time was a final one. They never
naw each other again In life. Seven years
later the great Napoleon, during the si::
weeks In which he lay on his bed of slck
aiess at Longwood, often turned his dark
vyes, whose luster was so dimmed, on the
portrait of his son. For one of the most
CQfTCD By -
the pleasant lawns of this garden-prison.
It was at least some pleasure for him to
see the butterflies, to watch the saucy
squirrels, to look at the flowers and ride
on his pony under the overarching trees.
But he still lacked much of the joy
ous exuberance In play which seems the
natural due of children of his years.
One day when the little fellow was about
8 or 10 he gravely said to the Em
peror Francis: "Grandpa, Isn't It true that
when I was In Paris, I had pages?" "Yes."
"And isn't it true that I am called king
of Rome?" "Yes." "Bur, grandpa, what
is it to be king of Rome?" "When you
are okler. I can explain it better," re
plied the emperor. "I am emperor of Aus
tria, as you know. But I am also king of
Jerusalem, although I haven't any power
The little chap remembered the children
who had surrounded him at the Tuilleries
and at Rambouillet, and he probably
wanted playmates at Schonbrunn. If he
were king of Rome he didn't see why he
couldn't have them. In 1817, Marie Louise
went to her Duchy of Parma, leaving the
THE KING OF HOME.
in the great cathedral in Vienna and his
entrails were buried in the church of the
The son whom Napoleon so loved, and
on whom he based so many hopes, not
only failed Xo realize .any of them but
even in his physical appearance, instead
of reproducing the dark Italian features
of his father he exhibited the blonde
coloring of his mother. The tall handsome
boy had light hair and soft blue eyes.
So, in his last illness, Napoleon, with, his
eyes fixed on the portrait of his son, ex
claimed shortly before his death: "Mon
fils." The last words of that son were a
weary wail to his mother, "Melne mutter,
melne mutter" What a desperate foil
ing of the great Napoleon's most cher
Death had come to be the chief aspira
tion of the unhappy little duke who would
at time passionately exclaim, "Oh, why
don't they let me die in peace." When the
Countess Camerata, daughter of the Prin
cess Bacciochi, wrote an account of his
father's death to the young Napoleon,
after the revolution of 1SC0, and called on
him to avenge the death of his sire, is It
any wonder that the poor melancholy
young fellow declined the task? And
shortly before his death there was talk
of making him king of Belgium. There
was a howl of protest. Then the great
king, "Death," removed all fear of cabal
that this shadowy Napoleon could arouse
by taking him where his father had gone
before. The father who had written: "Oh,
may I press him to my heart, upon a
Beside the laryngeal phthisis which car
ried off the Duke of Reichstadt, he was
probably affected b a cancerous trouble
in the stomach, an hereditary ailment. In
this connection there is a pathos in recall
ing that Napoleon, dying at Longwood,
had told them to perform an autopsj on
him after his death, and ordered that a
complete diagnosis of the condition of his
stomach should be sant to his son, so that
if this hereditary ailment should seize him,
he might have this assistance toward
combating it. Pathetic, too, was Napo
leon's exhortations to his son to complete
the work he had begun, and his advice to
him, should he be restored to imperial
power, to marry into the family of the
Russian czar, because of the strength such
an alliance conferred. Pathetic, too,
those Jast words of the imperial father
about his son: "But all that you can say
to him or all that he learns will be of lit
tle use to him if he has not in the depth of
his heart that love of good which can
alone affect good things. I will hope,
however, that he will be worthy of his
destiny." Happily Napoleon died without
knowing what that destiny was to be. He
was spared one pang by this.
JOHN J. A. BECKET.
torn and, -within the circle It made the pic
ture of a beautiful girl standing by a. milk
white caw. There were two peculiarities
about the milk-white cow. Her ears were
as black as jet and her horns shone and
glittered as if they were mads of gold.
"The Prince was entranced. He gazed at
the beautiful picture long and lovingly,
and the cow sat on the rim of the basin
and chuckled as proudly as if it had paint
ed the picture. The girl was the loveliest
the Prince had ever seen and the cow was
surely the most beautiful of her kind. The
Prince's attendants uttered exclamations
of delight when they saw the picture, and
his ministers, when they were sent for,
were struck dumb with astonishment.
" 'If this bird could only speak!' cried
"But the crow went chuckling about the
room saying to itself: 'What a fool a
prince must be who cannot understand my
The Prince rased at the picture framed
by the gold ring for a long time. Then
he hastened to take it from the water. As
he did so it shrank to its natural size
and the picture of the beautiful girl and
the cow with- the golden horns disap
peared, and the ring no longer burnt his
fingers. He .dropped it in the basin once
more, but it remained a simple gold ring
and the picture failed to appear again.
"The Prince was disconsolate. He re-'
tried to take the ring from the golden
horn of the cow. Some said they tried It
just for fun, and some said they tried It
just out of curiosity: but all of them
failed. Even Evlen's stepmother tried,
and then she made her daughter try, hut
when the daughter touched the ring it
burnt her so that she screamed. And
then, some of those who had tried and
failed turned up their noses and said it
was a trick.
"Evlen had never thought of tryms
She had seen the Prince and admired
him, yet she had no idea of giving up be
fore all these people. But as soon as her
stepmother started for the palace with
her daughter, there came a knock at the
door. Evlen opened it, and there, stand
ing before her, was the old man who had
carried her to the Thunder's house, and
to the Jumplng-Off Place. She was very
glad to see him. and told him so, and he
was just as glad to see her.
" "Why don't you go and get your ring?'
" 'It is lost," she answered.
44 It Is found,' he said, 'I have placed It
on the golden horn of the cow that stands
near the palace door. You must so and
" I have nothing to wear, she replied.
"Then the old man tapped on the wall
" 'Sister Jane! Sister Jane! Where are
A. WIXTER. THOUGHT.
Old Winter is a surly soul.
Gaunt, haggard, pirn and gray;
His trumpet blast sweeps frosa the knoll
All that is green and gay
But isn't he a poet still.
Of sweet and gentle art.
Who ieels a kind and gentle thrill
Of sunshine in his heart
When he depicts In dreams wind-tost
The flowers of summer's train
3n arabesque of sparkling frost
Upon the window pane?
R. K. MUNKITTR1CK.
malned in the palace and refused to go I you?
out. He moped and pined until the fam- j " 'I am where I ought to be, was the
little 6-year-old Francis Napoleon in the
care of his grandfather. The emperor
loved the child in his way. In form he
gave him the sort of training the im
perial princes received. As soon as the
boy got old enough he had one distin
guished professor to teach him ancient
languages, another to teach him philology,
another to drive philosophy, natural law.
politeness and economics into his poor
head. Major Weiss instructed this little
recluse in the palace of Schonbrunn, in
fortifications! And he had to pass ex
aminations before the imperial family.
He is said to have passed them fairly
well. When he was 13, Prince Diestrich
steln gravely taught him what his father.
Napoleon, had done in the way of history.
On July 22, JS1S. when he was 7 years old,
his grandfather made him Duke of Beich
stadt. It was on this same date, July
22, that he learned of his father's death,
and also on the same date that lis
breathed his last. The child had some en
thusiasm, but he was passionate and dis
trustful and quick to form estimates of
character. With his poor, starved exist
ence, it Is natural enough that he should
enjoy horseback riding. He loved to ride
his horse in the Prater, a beautiful park
of 2000 acres, in "Vienna. And the boy
alo liked his military practice. His
grandfather made him captain of the Im
But the life of the young Duke or
Reichstadt was not the healthy one of
boys of his age. Many a son of an Aus
trian peasant had far more fun than he.
Some historians say that he was purpose
ly thrown with the gay Duke of Salerno
in order that he might be led into dissi
pations and thereby undermine his con
stitution. The thought is too dreadful
to be easily credited.
In 1831, the year his mother was obliged
to abandon her duchy, he began to show
too clearly that some wearing malady
had possession of him. He had profuse
sweatings and contracted a cough which
often made him spit blood. His mother's
condition in regard to her states fright
ened him and he Interceded for her with
Francis I. But although he was 111 and
sick of life he would avoid taking the
medicine the doctors prescribed, which
he held in horror. They took the young
fellow away from his military exercises
and operations, thus removing the one
great amusement of his life. No wonder
he begged his grandfather to let him
"play soldier" again. In the spring equi
nox of that year he exposed himself to the
THE CHILDREN'S SECOND VISIT.
(Copyright. 1S95, by Joel Chandler Harris.)
"I hope that isn't all of the story If
you call it a story," said Buster John.
"Which?" remarked Mr. Thimblefinger,
with an air of having forgotten the whole
"Why, that about throwing the gold
L 1 I 1
The Points of Breeding- That "Win the
Prizes. By John Gilmer Speed.
UJT BURNS, IT BURNS," SUE CRIED, "TAKE IT OFF.'
'. 1 HlilTf fl A 1 HfilHHf
M MMiTT IffilKL
uH Miff wBSfm
1 1 H i a ' 1 Jjliilf MM a
I I Wilms ? ' ! W i &&m&&w & ummi t
J llS If 1a iTlT VAJtil
IN THE EUPEEOR' LIBRARY.
touching tral'.s in Napoleon was his
strong, pure affection for his exiled boy.
What over may be thought of the poetic
worth there may have been in the verses
lie wrote at St. Helena on the portrait of
that son, there can be no question that his
Iwart spoke when he penned these lines:
"These features dear, so sweet and fair.
Here shall I ne'er see more:
"et may I press him to my heart
Upon a fairer shore!"
As has been sakl, when the allies came
in 1S14. Marie Louise and her infant son of
three years hastily left Paris and arrived
at Schonbrunn early in May of the same
year. This was one of the Imperial pal
aces of the Austrian emperor who made
it the summer residence of his familj.
It raeaas "Beautiful Fountain." It is a
raMe and & half from Vienna and there is
a menagerie and a botanic garden at
tached t it. This was destined to be the
abiding place for nearly the whole of his
Miert life of the melancholy son of the
great Napoleon. It Is some comfort for
the sympathetic mind to picture the. for
lorn little descendant of emperors run
ning about In the greea alleys and over
rains and got worse. One day he went
out for a morning horseback ride, and in
the afternoon went out again for a drive
in an open carriage in the Prater.
When he came back after this he had a
severe hemorrhage. This was too much.
For the first time, the poor boy admitted
his sufferings. They decided to take him
tn Itslv Tint it va tnn lnt Rrt Vila
mother came to Schonbrunn one June
evening and the sight of her encouraged
him. and he rallied a little. Then his
peins returned. The night of July 21. one
of. his attendants. Baron Moll, stayed up
with him. he was so ilL Reichstadt sud
denly sat up In bed ami with an accent
of despair gave utterance to the touch
ing exclamation: "Iche gene unter. Meine
mutter! Melne mutter!" that is, "I give
it up. Oh. mother, mother." He fell into
convulsions and at Z o'clock the son of
Napoleon had breathed the last of the
many melancholy sighs which had es
caped from him in his short but weary
He died in the room in which his father
had dictated the peace of Austria. They
cave him a raaenificent funeral. His
heart, poor broken heart! was deposited
SUE TOUXD IT ASD TURXED IT UPSIDE
ring from the window," replied Buster
"Well, no," said Mr. Thimblefinger, in
an absent-minded way. "In a book, you
know, you can read right on if you want
to, or you can put the book down and
rest yourself when you get tired. But
when I'm telling a story you must give
me time to rest. I'm so little, you know,
that It doesn't take much to tire me. Of
course. If you don't like the story I can
stop any time. It's no trouble to me to
stop. Just wink your eye at me twice and
"Oh, we don't want you to stop," said
"No, don't stop," remarked Mr. Rabbit,
drowsily, "because then everybody gets to
talking, and I can't doze comfortably.
Your stories are as comforting to me as
"Then I'll add a bolster to the bed." ex
claimed Mr. Thimblefinger. He hesitated
a moment and then went on with the
"Of course Evlen didn't know what to
do when her stepmother threw the gold
ring from the window and pushed her
from the room. She went back to her
bed and lay down, but she couldn't sleep.
After awhile daylight came, and then she
dressed and went down into the garden
to hunt for the ring. She searched every
where, but the ring was not to be found.
"Now, the ring-could have been found
very easily if it had been where It fell
when Evlen's stepmother threw It from
the window. But that night a tame crow,
belonging to the prince of that country,
was rooctlng in one of the trees of the
"Oh, was it a sure-enough prince?"
asked Sweetest Susan.
"Why, certainly," replied Mr. Thimble
finger, with great solemnity. "A make
believe prince could never have reigned In
that country. The people would have
found him out and he would have been
put In the calaboose. Well, this tame
crow that belonged to the prince had wan-
dered off over the fields and had gone so
far away from the palace that It was un
able to get back before dark, and so it
went to bed in one of the trees growing
In the garden behind the house where Ev
"Of course, as soon as morning came,
the crow was wide awake, and ready for
any mischief that might turn up. It
flew to the ground, hoping to find some
thing for breakfast, and hopped about,
searching in the leaves and grass. Sud
denly the crow saw the ring shining on
the ground and picked it up and turned
it over. What could it be? The crow's
curiosity was such that it forgot all about
breakfast. It seized the ring in its beak
and went flopping to the palace. It "was
so early in the morning that the palace
was closed, but the crow flew straight
to the prince's window and beat his wings
against it until some of the attendants
came and opened it. when the crow walked
in with great dignity.
"The prince had been awakened by the
noise, but when he saw the bird stalking
into the room as stiff as a major-general
of milvtia he fell back on his bed laughing
The crow hopped to the foot-board of the
bed and stood there holding the gold ring
In his beak, as much as to say: Don't you
wish you were as rich as I am?'
"The Prince rose from his bed and took
the ring from the crow, but It was so
hot that he made baste to drop it in a
basin of cold water. Then a curious thing
happened. The ring seemed to expand in
the basin until it was as large as the bot-
ily doctor was called in. The doctor
fussed about, and felt the Prince's pulse
and looked at his tongue, and said that
a change of air was necessary, but the
Prince said he didn't want any change of
air and wouldn't have it. In fact, he said
he didn't want any air at all, and he
wouldn't take any pills or powders, and
he wouldn't drink any sage tea, and he
wouldn't have any mustard plaster put
on him. He was In love, and he knew
that the more medicine he took the worse
off he would be."
"Well, a little sage tea ain't bad when
you are In love," remarked Mrs. Mead
ows. "It's mighty soothing."
"Maybe," continued Mr. Thimblefinger,
"but the Prince didn't want it, and
wouldn't have it. He wanted the beauti
ful girl he had seen in the picture. He
was In love with her, and he wanted to
marry her. So the ministers consulted to
gether, and finally they sent around a
"Nonsense!" cried Mrs. Meadows.
"Tut tut!" exclaimed Mr. Rabbit.
"Well," said Mr. Thimblefinger, "he
sent a crier around"
"A herald, you mean," suggested Bus
ter John, who had read a good many 1
story books. ' ,
"A bailiff, could do the work just as
well, but you can have it your way.
Well," continued Mr. Thimblefinger, "the
Prince's ministers sent a herald around
to inquire at all the people's homes if
any of them had a cow with golden
horns, but nobody had such a cow and
everybody wondered what the herald
meant. A cow with golden horns! Peo
ple went about asking one another if
they had ever heard of such a thing
before. Some said the throne was totter
ing. Others said the politicians were try
ing to work a scheme to increase taxation.
Still others talked about the peril of the
nation. Everybody had gome explanation,
but nobody had the right one. The poor
young prince was nearly crazy to find
the poor girl whose picture he had seen
in the basin of water.
"For a, few days the people heard no
more of the matter, but at the end of a
week the herald went round the city
again declaring that the Prince would
marry any young lady who would bring
as her marriage portion a cow with golden
horns. She need not have riches of any
kind; all that was necessary was a cow
with golden horns. This word went
around among the people, and from city
to city. Rich men with daughters tried
everywhere to buy a cow with golden
horns, but all to no purpose.
"The prince waited and waited and pined
and grew thinner. But just as matters
were getting to be very serious Indeed,
an old man appeared in the palace park
leading a beautiful cow with jet black
ears and golden horns. The servants set
up such a shout when they saw the beau
tiful cow that everybody in the 'rlaiace
was aroused and all came out to see what
caused the noise. Then the servants and
attendants ran over one another In their
efforts to reach the prince, who was mop
ing in his room. As they ran they cried:
" 'The cow with the golden horns has
come! The cow with the golden homs
"The prince forgot his dignity and hur
ried out to see the cow with the golden
horns. The old man came leading her,
and she was, indeed, a beautiful creature.
Her head and limbs were almost as deli
cate as those of a deer, and her eyes were
large and soft. Her body was as white
as snow; her eyes glistened like black
silk, and her golden horns shone in the
sun. The old man bowed low as he led
the beautiful creature forward.
" T wouldn't make much of a bride my
self, your majesty." he said. 'I have
brought you the cow with the golden
horns. She might find you the bride that
I failed to bring1 you.'
" M fear I shall have no such good for
tune,' replied the prince, 'but I think you
have proved to me that I am not dream
ing. How shall I reward you?'
" 'I ask no reward, your majesty. I only
ask the privilege of taking away my cow
with the golden horns when you have
found your bride.'
"When the prince had given his promise
the old man said: You have a ring, your
majesty, that came to you In a curious
way. Let this Ting be placed on the left
horn of the cow. The girl or woman that
Is able to remove this ring will be the
bride you are wishing for. Every morning
the cow with the golden horns will ap
pear here on the lawn and remain until
night falls. Let it be announced, your
majesty, that whoever takes the ring
from her shall be the princess of
"Huh!" exclaimed Drusilla, suddenly,
"He talk like he been ter college."
"Will you hush?" cried Buster John.
But Mr. Thlmblefinser paid no attention
to the interruption.
" 'But how do you know,' asked the
Prince, 'that the right one will come to
get the ring?'
" 'How do I know that your majesty
has the ring? the old man answered.
"This seemed to satisfy the Prince, who
caused it to be announced all through his
kingdom that he would choose for his
bride the girl or woman who could take
the ring from the golden horn of the cow.
"Of course, there was a great commo
tion among the ladies when this announce
ment was madet and nearly all of them
reply. The wall opened, and out stepped
the old, old woman that Evlen had seen
combing her hald by the well at the end of
" 'Clothe this child in silk and satin, and
comb her hair out fine. Sister Jane.
"The old woman grumbled a little, but
gave Evlen a touch here and there, and in
a moment she was dressed as fine as the
finest lady In the land.
" 'Now she is ready, brother, said the
old, old woman, and then she disappeared
in the wall, combing her long gray hair
" 'Must I walk?' asked Evlen, looking
at her satin slippers.
" 'Nonsense!' exclaimed the old man. Then
he tapped in another part of the wall.
'Nephew! Nephew! Where are you?'
" 'Wherever you wish me to be,' a
voice replied, and then the wall opened,
and out stepped the handsome stranger
who had given Evlen the gold ring. What
do you want?'
" 'A carriage and horses, said the old
" 'They are at the door, was the reply,
'and I'll drive them myself.'
"Sure enough, there stood at the door a
coach and four, and Evlen was carried lo
the palace in grand style. Liveried ser
vants appeared and spread a strip of
carpet before her, and the cow with the
golden horns came running to meet her,
and in a moment she had the ring. Then
the people set up a loud shout, crying:
" 'The Princess! The Princess!'
"And then ths prince came out and went
to her. She would have knelt, but he
lifted her up, and knelt himself before
her, and kissed her hand, and smiled on
The dogs of fashion in America have
pretty nearly all of them come to the
United States by way of Great Britain.
There are to be sure in this country some
distinctive breeds that originated on this
side of the Atlantic, and the dogs of the
Indian villages are probably Indigenous,
aboriginal. Among the dogs that are
American, in the sense of first having
been produced here by a crossing of strains
till there was a distinctive type, are the
Newfoundland, the Chesapeake Bay dog,
the American foxhound, the American
bloodhound and oue or two others. The
coon dogs are distinctively American, but
I am afraid that they cannot be said to
form a separate type; yet I do not insist
on this opinion. A reference of this ques
tion to the members of congress repre
senting districts south of Mason and Dix
on's line would probably secure some valu
able and authoritative information on a
subject of which the world at large is now
in entire ignorance. But the dog of fash
ion, the dog that attracts great atention
at the bench shows, the dog that com
mands high prices, comes to us by way of
Great Britain, and in most instances is
practically of British origin. Two of the
dogs now bringing the highest prices, and
therefore occupying the positions of ultra
fashion In the canine world, are not Brit
ish, but they are vary fashionable in
England, and had this not been so,
there is little chance that they would have
found such great favor in this country. I
allude to the St. Bernard and the Russian
Both of these are distinctly show dogs,
though under proper conditions, each
makes a good and trustworthy compan
ion. But at present they are bred ard
Imported mainly for exhibition purposes,
and at the bench shows they never fall
to attract a very large measure of atten
tion. The romantic history of the St.
Bernard surrounds him, even in thisage,
when his occupation Is gone, with an in
terest that will not fall so long as we re
member the good monks of the hospices
in the Alps and their human efforts to
rescue the cruel snow-belated and be
wildered travelers who had lost their way.
As assistants in this kindly work of succor
the St. Bernard dogs performed feats of
sagacity and strength almost too wonder
ful for belief. But the accounts arc so
well authenticated that intelligent doubt
is impossible. The railway tunnels and
improved facilities for travel through the
Alps have taken the occupation away
from the St. Bernard, and had not fashion
come to his rescue the breed would prob
ably have become extinct. As it Is, there
are many more St. Bernards in the world
than when he and his kind were trained
to perform and did perform the noblest
work ever given to a dog to do.
In contemplating the history of the St.
Bernard dog, it is easy to agree with
Cuvier that the domestic dog is "the com
pletest, the most singular and most useful
conquest ever made by man." What has
been the effect of lack of occupation and
training upon the St. Bernard, I am not
prepared to say, though upon general
principles and judging from the effects of
like conditions upon other dogs with which
I have a more intimate acquaintance, I
fancy the St. Bernard of the bench shows,
the blue-ribbon winner, is more sym
metrical, of finer coat, of more delicate
constitution and of more uncertain tem
per. If these assumptions be correct the
dog cannot have improved during the gen
erations of idleness. But he Is a great
favorite and specimens have been bought
the form, in Massachusetts of a. legislative
enactment declaring it a misdemeanor to
keep a bloodhound within the state. As
a matter of fact, the English bloodhound
Is one of the gentlest members of the
canine race, and even the American blood
hound hunter of runaway slaves and es
caped convicts is not In the least Blood
thirsty, all the sensational tales, to the
contrary notwithstanding. These blood-
hounds, both English and American, fol
low man's trail to find their game, but
not to prey on it. A bloodhound would no
sooner jump on a man he had found than
a pointer or setter would jump upon the
quail or partridge that had been traced
by scent. The bloodhound Is trained to
find, not to destroy, and is therefore as
useful in hunting lost children as desper
Up at Fairhaven, In Vermont, where Mr.
Winch ell has a kennel of bloodhounds and
mastiffs, a bloodhound bitch was one day
quietly sleeping before his sitting-room
fire. His son, then 5 or 6 years old, took
it into his head that the bloodhound's eara
were long, and, finding a pair of scissors.
determined to trim them to mastiff size
and shape. He put his sturdy little legs
over the sleeping bloodhound and sat
down on her. Then he began on her ears
with the scissors. The bloodhound awak
ened, and appeared to realize that if she
got up she would throw the boy Into the
fire, so she howled with all her strength of
lungs till some one came to the rescue.
It never occurred to her to bite the boy.
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3IODJESKA, THE PRIZE RUSSIAN WOLF HOUND.
her, for she was the lovely girl he had
seen in the picture."
"What is the moral of that?" inquired
Mr. Rabbit, waking from his nap.
"Why, you didn't even hear the storj,"
said Mr. Thimblefinger.
"That is the reason I want to hear the
moral of it," remarked Mr. Rabbit.
"There is no moral at all," said Mr.
"Then I'm mighty glad I was asleep,"
grumbled Mr. Rabbltt.
(To be continued.) .
The Future of Gettysbnrj?.
Gettysburg Star and Sentinel.
The Gettysburg battlefield development
contained in General Sickles' bill will,
when completed, secure for Gettysburg a
by American breeders at immense prlces
55000 and $10,000.
The newest favorite, and one likely in a
year or so to be even more fashionable
than the St. Bernard, Is the Russian wolf
hound. This dog was also introduced
here from England, though within a year
or so enterprising breeders have made im
portations directly from Russia, where
the wolfhound Is a great favorite, both as
a companion and as a sporting dog. In
this country It Is not likely that he will be
useful other than as a show-dog and as
a companion. He is without doubt the
handsomest of the greyhound family, and
is at once both larger and stronger. In
deed, many specimens are larger than the
deerhound. He is more graceful in move
ment than either of these, and in general
CHAMPION BEAUFORTS BLACK PRINCE,
THE GREATEST OF MASTIFFS.
Now. It Is a libel to call a. dog with suclt
sense and good temper savage and dan
gerous. Those who know the English
bloodhound best are enthusiastic in his
praise for both intelligence and amiabil
ity, and the American bloodhound Is
nothing more than a beagle, with a little
admixture, perhaps, of the blood of either
the Cuban or English bloodhound, the
characteristic of the beagle predominat
ing. When London was tn a panic of appre
hension on account of the horrible and
mysterious crimes in Whitechapel of
"Jack the Ripper," Sir Charles Warren,
then at the head of the London police,
determined to see what bloodhounds could
do, so he invited Colonel Edward Brough,
the most successful bloodhound breeder
In England to come to London with his
dogs and make some experiments. The
dogs were tried in Hyde Park, and wero
never ba filed in their pursuit as long as
the trail remained in the park, but out
side, on the city pavements, where thou
sands of tracks crossed each other they
went wrong. This experiment was made
with dogs whose ancestors, maybe, for
a hundred years, has been suffered to go
entirely untrained, and the instinct hal
quite naturally deteriorated through this
neglect. If a family of these dogs were
carefully trained for several generations
to hunt the clean boot on hard roads and
pavements, I fancy they would soon be
so sure in their tracking as to be a valu
able adjunct of every police force.
Another such maligned dog is the
mastiff. Every now and again we .read
In our newspapers that a child or a woman
has been attacked and badly bitten by
a fierce mastiff. We read such things so
frequently that the uninformed public
has, naturally, perhaps, come to the con
clusion that the mastiff is savage and un
safe. As a matter of fact, the mastiff
is the gentlest of all dogs, its instinct be
ing to protect life and property. How,
then, did it gain this disrepute? Not
fairly, It may be depended on. By some
curious fact of nature, when the types
of dogs are crossed, the progeny Is very
apt to have an exaggered form of the bad
qualities of both types, and when neither
type has bad characteristics, then the
progeny is very likely to show qualities
of original "cussedness" of an alarming
kind. New the instinct of the mastiff, and
also of the Newfoundland, is to save life
and protect property, yet If you cross
these dogs the result will be a mongrel
of ferocity and treachery. And so the
mongrels showing the mastirx conforma
tion to some extent have bitten children
and frightened women, and therefore the
mastiff type suffers in public esteem. It
is wrong that this should be so, for the
mastiff is the best dog of all to keep in
the country, guard the house and keep
watch over the children of a family.
At Mr. Winchell's kennels there was a
mastiff bitch with a new litter of puppies.
A bitch of whatever breed with puppies
is always jealous and dangerous to
strangers. There was a little child visit
ing Mr. Winchell's place and this young
ster, being unnoticed by the nurse for a
moment, pushed its way into the kennel
where the young puppies' were housed.
Had a strange man done this the bitch
would In all probability have bitten him
severely. But the mother left her puppies
and taking the child by the sleeve of Its
dress pushed open the kennel door and
led the child to the house to its careless
nurse. Here was an exhibition of instinct
In its highest and truest form, and every
one who knows the purely bred mastiff
will say that almost any good mastiff
would Tiave done the same thing. And
yet many ignorant persons believe the
mastiff to be dangerous and unsafe. This
prejudice is probably only temporary, and
in the meantime the breeders are making
further improvements in their strains,
and at this time in Beaufort's Black
Prince we probably have in 'America the
finest mastiff in the world.
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SIR BEDIYERE, THE GREATEST OF ST. BERNARDS.
safe pre-eminence among the world's bat- appearance the most aristocratic of dogs.
At Chickamauga, the United States has
already expended about $600,000. The work
has gone on very rapidly, as the United
States has sole possession of that field and
is not under the disadvantage, as at Get
tysburg, of fighting a hostile and selfish
corporation Intrenched upon it and re
sisting for money-making purposes the
carrying out of the plans of the govern
ment. Until this difficulty can be over
come here work will progress more slowly
than it has elsewhere. But it may be
hoped that the heedlessness of our people
in permitting this heartless invasion of
our field may not result In Indefinitely pro
longing the Improvements which are of
so immense value to our commuity.
Keep the blood pure by taking Hood's
SareaparUla. Take Hood's and only Hood's.
What is probably more to the purpose, he
Is likely to thrive in the American climate.
v. hlch is fatally hard on many branches of
the greyhound family.
Tho bloodhound is not a popular favor
ite in this country, and his disrepute Is in
a large measure due to the strolling com
panies that played Mrs. Stowe's "Uncle
Tom's Cabin" all over the country for more
than a generation past. Though Mrs.
Stowe only mentioned bloodhounds once
in her narrative, and did not bring them
on the scene at all, they are a prominent
feature in the drama of "Uncle Tom's
Cabin" as put on the stage. Ambitious
companies have a pack of dogs, and even
the little companies that perform under
tents always have at least two. And most
ferocious and forbidding - looking brutes
these are. But they are not bloodhounds.
They are generally some mixed breed
say a cross between a Cuban or Siberian
bloodhound and a mastiff.
The-prejudlce by misrepresentation took
TWELFTH NIGHT GAMES.
The holidays are the times par excel
lence for children's parties. A few sug
gestions regarding games may therefore
be of some value.
There Is an old-time game called Draw
ing King and Queen which from time im
memorial has been dedicated to Twelfth
night, or January C.
Two cakes are made, in which among
the plums a bean and a pea are thrown.
Each cake is cut, one for the girls and
one for the boys; whoever of the former
gets the bean is elected queen of the
evening; and the boy who draws the pea
is king of the evening, the rest of the
company acting as courtiers.
The Knight of the Whistle is a lively
game in which several of the party are led
out of the room and conducted back one
by one. Each on entering is greeted with
clapping of hands and is with much state
invested with the insignia of the Order of
the Whistle. A ring is put on his finger.
and a cloak, scarlet for preference, is put
on his shoulders. He then kneels down and
receives the orthodox blow on the shoul
der, being bidden to arise with the name
of Sir Basil, Sir Blunderbuss, or anything
else which may occur to one. He next
takes his stand in the center of the room,
while the party sit on the floor in a circle
around him. To the band of his cloak has
been attached a whistle by a long cord;
each of the party blows thl3 In turn, chal
lenging him to find out who sounded the
note, he turning each minute, never
dreaming that he bears the instrument
In the game called Jacob, one of the
party" is blindfolded and placed In the
center of the room, the others circling
around him. The blindfolded one then
calls out the name of the one he would
pursue; she enters the circle with him,
then darts away; he then summons her
to betray her presence by calling out
"Jacob," and she is obliged to at once
answer "Here, sir," while he follows,
guided by her voice, till he catches her.