THE SUNDAY OEEGONIAN PORTLAND, MAY 3, 1903.
3& -
CRUISE OP THE LAKERUNNEHS
BY RUPERT HUGHES, AUTHOR OF "THE LAKERUN ATHLETIC
CLUB' ETC
CHAPTER L
HALI
NG answer.
"Oh. Hal!"
No axuwer.
"Hal, my boy. breakfast is-ready."
No answer even to. that.
T say, Hal, my son, your breakfast Is
getting cold."
Bo was the silence.
"Hal you, Henry Perkins, B. J. you'd
better get up before I come and get
you up!"
He couldn't even get up an echo.
"Must I go up there and yank you out
of bed by the ear?"
It seemed as If there -were no other way
to get the boy's ear.
"Well, here I come." Tramp, tramp',
tramp.
But the Imitation of climbing the stairs
'was very bad, and there -"was still no
aAswer.
"B. J.'s" father was used to having to
stand every morning at the foot of the
stairs and call long and loud. He Is not
the only lather on earth that has this
task, for other boys in this same world
have a little way of snoozing their hard
est Just when they are most wanted by
their parents. .But, -while B. J.'s father
expected to sing his serenade every morn
ing, it was not often that he had to climb
the stairs.
The magic word "breakfast." "would
usually follow B. J. wherever his dreams
might have taken him and letch him
back to earth. And if the word "break
fast" didn't bring him, the imitation of
tramping usually did.
Sometimes, It is true, when the Lakerim
Atheletlc Club had taken a long Jaunt or
played a hard game, the boy's father
found that his song about breakfast
brought no answer, and that all bis terri
ble threatening arid pretending to climb
the stairs were vain; and he must march
up the steps for true. But, once up, it
was only necessary to pound hard on the
door to shake the boy out of his snug
slumbers. .
Twice indeed B. J.'s father had had to
go into the room and shake him awake,
but those were the rare times when the
boy's club, the Lakerim Athletic team,
had been beaten in some game which
meant that a particularly hard battle had
been fought, for "the Dozen" did not die
easily. And when they did suffer defeat,
there was sure to be a late confab to de
cide where the fault lay, and emphasize
the fact that it must not be repeated.
"Which usually meant that each one of
these devoted athletes would sleep well,'
""once he had got to bed.
But on this particular morning. Mr.
Perkins knew that none of these things
was to blame, because there had been no
game the day before; that is to say. there
had been no game so far as B. J. had
been concerned. His beloved club had In
deed been having cne of the games of its
life with Greenville, Its arch-enemy, but
B. J.'s father had refused to let him play,
because he had been so ill that the family
doctor had kept him indoors. B. J.,
though, had Insisted that small matters
like health and doctor's bills were not to
be taken into consideration when the
great Lakerim Athletic Club had a game
His father had disputed this point, and
B. J. had argued back as if the world
would come to an end if he did not play
in that game. The debate flad waxed so
hot finally that it ended In B. J.'s being
sent off to bed supperless, a terrible hu
miliation for a boy of his age and prowess
a boy who had won the name of "Bridge
Jumper," or B. J., for being so brave and
so foolish as to Jump off a high bridge
with the result that he was pulled out
unconscious by the nape of the neck. Just
In time to Rave him from drowning. But
that was long ago. And this is another
time a bright, brand-new morning.
Now that the long night was over, Mr.
Perkins had expected to find that the boy
had learned reason, and that the anger
and resentment in his hot young heart
had cooled, when he found that the world
was still all right, even if he had not
taken part in the game, which, as Mr.
Perkins was going to tell him, had been
handily won without B. J.'s help.
Certainly the father's heart was warm
toward the son, and after his long vain
calling, he climbed the stairs patiently,
tapped gently on the door, and murmured:
"Get up, my boy, wo have griddle-cakes
this morning."
If that did not bring him, what could?
But still thero was no answer, and
finally Mr. Perkins opened the door.
Then he fell back amazed.
There was no boy In the bed nor in the
room.
The bed had not been slept in, yet it
had been sadly treated. The sheets were
gone.
The window was open, and out of it
ran, like a great white snake, those same
sheets, which had been torn into strips
and made into a rope, and this had been
fastened to one end of the bed.
The draught caused by the opening of
the window swept a piece of paper off
the table and brought it scurrying to Mr.
Perkins' feet. He saw that it was written
on and picked It up. It was in B. J.'s
writing, and was spelled Just a little
worse than usual. It read:
"Dear Mister Perkins your crule treet
munt of me has reche the Hmmut of my
undoorance 1 have gone away forever do
not try to foller me for I have taken a
secrlt trale 1 may go to see or i may go
to the west and fight Injuns if 1 take any
scallups I will send you some to hang
onto the walls for slouveneers but you
will never hear from me in no other way
unless i should desido to get wrich then I
may come back and by the old homested
on a morgidge or something tell mother
goodby she was always good to a feller
and never treated me crule If I get wrich
1 will by her a new bonut or something
goodby fader thow you treeted me crule
1 will forgive you if you will not try to
foller me this is my ultomato I will my
canoe to the Lakerim Athletic Club, yours
truly B. J.
P. B. 1 have broken into my savings
bank and taken the $12. that was there
so tell mother that i wont starv.
When Mr. Perkins had read this about
five times he laughed himself almost Into
tears. Then he showed it to Mrs. Per
kins. She broke Into tears too. but she did
not laugh. She looked scared. Still Mr.
Perkins laughed louder than ever, and
roared:
"Oh. don't you worry! Hunger will
bring that scallawag home before sunset"
But that night there was no B. J. And
now Mr. Perkins laughed not quite so
loud, and said:
"Oh, he's all rlghtl He'll sleep at some
farmhouse and come home tomorrow."
But tomorrow became today and
brought no B. J. And now Mr. Perkins
EtoDoed laus-hlnir. H didn't avm cmt
but he began to telegraph to all the police
of the towns around. He printed notices
In all the papers like this:
"B. J. Come back and all will be for
given. Your mother Is verv lonely with
out you. Dad."
SUI1 no B. J.
Then Mr. Perkins began to offer re
wards, and to go about his business with
a haggard look on his face.
As for the boy's poor mother well,
you'll have to ask somebody else to tell
you how a mother would feel with her
Joung laddie away in unknown places and
unknown dangers.
CHAPTER IL
The news of B. J.'s escapade was the
talk of the whole town of Lakerim, as you
may well believe. Of course it excited
the boys most of all, and most of all the
"most it excited Jhat crowd of B. J.'s par
ticular cronies who were known as the
"Dozen," because, as you'd never guess,
there were Just 1 of them.
Tho town of Lakerim Is not to be found
I A MEETING OP THE TWELVE OF LAKE1UM.
i--...-..... ..
on every map, and probably your school
geography will not show you where it Is.
And I have been requested not to mention
what state It Is in, for fear that it will-
give the town a bad reputation. The
grown-ups In that town already think they
have trouble enough with what boys there
are now to think up mischief, and grow
sleepless over their games, and risk their
skin and bones, and their parents' nerves
by inventing new kinds of trouble to get
themselves into. So I shall not be able to
tell you where it is, further than to say
that it Is neither north of tho north pole
nor south of the south pole.
The latitude grows pretty warm in
Summer and the longitude gets quite cool
in the Winter.
Perhaps it would be betraying the secret
too far to admit that the town of Lakerim
Is in tho United States, and yet not in
the Philippines, Porto Rico, Alaska or
Guam. The town, as you might guess
from Its name, is oh the rim of a lake.
That lake is not one of the Great Lakes,
and yet there are one or two smaller
lakes in the world. The people usually
iTB WILIj now." said the Kangaroo.
9 "tell you the strange and sad story
of my life."
"Don't trouble yourself on my account,"
said Nebuchadnezzar Hiawatha Columbus
Jones hastily.
"It's no trouble at all," replied the Kan
garoo with equal swiftness. "I have been
wanting to get it off my mind for a long
while. It isn't nice to have a thing on
your mind, you know. It makes a dent In
It and then you can never think so well
afterwards."
"Well, go ahead!" said Nebuchadnezzar
with resignation.
"I was not always as I now am," sighed
the Kangaroo. "Once, long before Bungle
Land was conquered by the fat and stupid
elephant family, my pa was the ruler of
the domain. I was the Crown Prince and
everybody said that I was the most beau
tiful baby that ever was.-
"As I grew up, I Increased In looks un
til nobody could compare with me. Ah,
you would not think It now, would you? I
also became strong as I was graceful,
and soon none could compete In any of
tho national games with me, for I over
threw yall who tried. But I was discon
tented. I wished for more, all the time.
..................... - .. , . ... . .
liAodwwgg odd ll
'
LIVING HOUSES OF THE
TWENTY-FOUR years ago a Russian
explorer returned from the wild Infe
rior of Central Asia and reported that
he had found a strange species of horse
like animate creatures shaped generally
like the horse of civilization, but much
smaller, longer in body and with enor
mous heads. He declared that the crea
ture was a genuine wild horse, and he
tried to get naturalists and zoologists to
make a new classification for the animal.
But they refused, because they did not
believe that the traveler really had found
any horse different from the ordinary
kinds. They held that the Asiatic horse
probably was only a dwarfed horse, and
otherwise like all the other known breeds.
Thus the story of the strange wild
horse was forgotten again. A few years
afterward, the skulls and skins of about
half a dozen were brought to Russia by
another traveler, who had, however, not
seen the horses himself, but had obtained
the hides from Mongolian traders.
Those bones and skins finally reached
the St. Petersburg Museum, but through
speak of it as "The Lake," but it original
ly had an Indian name, which I can't
spell and which you could not pronounce
If L could. So we will let it drop.
In this wonderful town, on this myste
rious lake, on a certain Important occa
sion, 12 boys had sprawled under a tree,
and decided that they would organize
themselves into a club and build a club
house. That tree is not so famous as the
"Charter Oak," or the tree that George
Washington rode under when he took
command of the Old Continentals, or the
sour apple tree they once intended to use
for hanging a certain person on. There
is not even an iron fence around the
tree nor a slab of marble to show what a
wonderful tree it was and its historical
Importance. But that was not the fault
of the tree, or of the club which chose
the name of Lake rim Athletlo Club, and
proceeded to win victories or score goose
eggs in as many games of as many kinds
as they could think of, or as their school
hours would allow them to play.
This club was like a certain peach of
emerald hue it grew, It grew. But as it
"Now, I did not know It, but at my birth
the wicked fairy. Boa Constrictor, held
her head out over me and prophesied that
when I was grown up I should have all
the wishes that I could make In a day.
And on tho very day she had set. it hap
pened that I was more discontented than
ever. And I grumbled to myself. T wish
that I could Jump like the rabbits.' My
legs began to grow suddenly, though so
slowly that I did not notice it at the time.
Before many minutes I said petulantly,
And I wish that I had as flno and big a
tall as the crocodile.' And my tall be
gan to grow immediately. 'Dear me said
L before I knew it, 'If I could only have
nice big ears like a deer.' And that wish
was granted right away, too.
"Well, I went to sleep and when I
awoke It was so late that I started up in
a hurry to run to the castle for dinner.
But to my fright, I fell forward on my
face the Instant I tried to set my fore feet
to the ground. I looked down' and saw
that they had grown short and the next
moment when I tried to scramble up I
saw my hing legs sprawl away beyond me
so that at first I Imagined that they had
been broken off during my sleep; But they
began to kick, and when I Jumped up I
thought I was on stilts. Well, to make'a
long story short, which is more than my
hind legs will ever be again," said the
Kangaroo in a highly melancholy ana
plaintive manner, "I tried to- run home.
an accident It happened that they did
not get to tho eyes of scientists who
would have roalllzed their value. So the
precious material finally was acquired
one day by a private individual and at
last actually was destroyed as being of
no account.
Then there came another period of ob
livion for the wild horse of Asia. But at
last a third traveler actually found - a
great herd of them and, fortunately, he
was a man versed In zoology, so that be
was able to speak with authority when
he returned to Europe.
He announced positively that the Cen
tral Asian horse not only was a horse
entirely different from all other known
types, but that it was without doubt one
of the earliest forms of horse, a survival
of an animal world of many tens of thou
sands of years ago.
Fired by his description, animal collec
tors fitted out expeditions and now there
are 28 of the animals In the Zoological
Gardens In Hamburg.
As a result of this, naturalists have been
ablo to tud tha sew animal carefully
was founded by -12 charter members and
as ihey MA most of the work of keeping It
going, they carae te think that they were
pretty nearly the whole club. And ll Is
of them these 12 who get into the scrapes
and fought out the games of which I am
going to telL
For the benefit of those who have not
had the honor of their acquaintance before
this. I will introduce them not by their
real names, which they themselves hardly J.
ever heard but by the nicknames which
they found much more useful.
This strapping lad of muscle and pluck
is "Tug."' And the next one is a fine
broth of a boy called "Punk." This im
mense youth who will be taller than, the
telegraph poles if he doesn't stop' growing. .
very curiously Is named Sawed -Off.
The next boy, his sworn chum and crony.
Is named "Jumbo." because' he Is so tiny.
Come along "Sleepy" Mid open your
eyes long enough to let 'people see you
are alive after all.
Number six and number seven .are the
twlnniest twins that were ever twinned.
Their own father and mother could hardly
tell their red heads apart, and as they
always dress alike their friends have no
end of trouble. One of them te called
"Reddy" and the other Is called "Heady,"
and If they were shuffled together f or a
minute you could never tell which from
t'other. Being twins, and having such
fiery red hair. It Is natural that they
should be rather red-tempered, too, but,
though number six and number seven are
often at "sixes" and "sevens" they are
much fonder of each other than they
realize.
The next one Is Mr. Robert I beg your
parden. Robert, I should say "Bobbles."
Number nine, with curiosity written all
over his face, Is. called "Qulz.tr because
he Is forever asking questions. Even if
you ask him a "question, he answers it
with another.
Number ten "had the misfortune to be
born with such fine features, which he
keeps so well groomed, that they call him
"Pretty." but certain bullies have made
the mistake of thinking that he does not
keep his muscles as well groomed as his
hair and hands.
Number eleven, the wIse-looking mite,
with the spectacles on his nose and his
nose in a book. Is well named "HIst'ry,"
but he Is a good fellow In spite of know
ing so terribly much.
The twelfth and last of ths dozen Is
"B. J." Come up, B. J., and be Intro
duced.
Why, where Is 'he? Oh. I forgot; he has
run away run away from home, and club,
and all.
Now that you have the Dozen and have
heard how B. J. deserted them, you will
realize why they are all looking so solemn
and why they are all wishing that B. J.
had never run away, so that they could
get him Into a corner and punch his head
lor running away.
Most of these lonely and forlorn eleven
had themselves threatened to run away
on various occasions, when their parents
were stubborn and disobedient. But not
one of them had now a good word for B
J., who was the first to make the break.
For, you see, the Dozen had for weeks
and weeks been worrying Its 12 heads al
most into one trying to decide Just how
to amuse Its royal 12 selves during the
Summer vacation. And It had Just de
cidedat B. J.'s own suggestion, mind
you to take a long cruise about the lake
in the club war canoe.
And now B. J. had knocked that canoe
idea Into a cockpit I mean a cocked hat-
by eloping, not with the club canoe, but
with his valued self. He hadn't even
taken his own little canoe. '
(To Be Continued.)
(Copyright. 1003.)
but found after many efforts that the only
way I could proceed was to hop. So I
hopped Into the castle and right Into the
dining-room. There wa3 a fine how d'ye
do when I appeared. My father's crown
fell into his soup, and it splashed all over
the Court Chamberlain and scalded his
legs frightfully.
"This was the cause, by the way, of
the war which drove my pa out of the
kingdom, for the Court Chamberlain be
longed to the Camel family which never
forgives and which hates scalded legs more
than anything else on earth. Being allied
through military service with the Ele
phant family, they got them to declare
war and my pa had to run for his life,
But to get back to that night at the castle.
"Well, they could not recognize me as
the Crown Prince and the more I tried to
explain tho more everybody laughed at
me. At last, when I still insisted that I
was I, my pa ordered a mirror to be held
up to me and there I saw the Kangatuln
you now behold. I could not blame any
one for not recognizing me, and so I
packed my little valise and, sobbing, bade
my ancestral halls farewell."
So saying, the Kangeruln made a low
bow and hopped gloomily but swiftly Into
the blue distance. Nebuchadnezzar Hia
watha Columbus Jones smiled bitterly and
proceeded on his voyage of discovery.
which soon brought him to but no, please
wait till next Sunday.
STONE AGE
and thoroughly and they have agreed that
the little horse is an ancient form, one of
the genuine ancestors of the horse of to
day. One naturalist. Salenky, holds that
these wild horses are the original links
between the ass and the horse. Professor
Noack disputes this and says that the
little wild horse is almost identical with
a very ancient, extinct small horse that
once lived In Europe.
Since the two scientists issued their
statements, the wild horses have been
compared minutely with the- pictures
found engraved In the famous caves in
France, where the men of the Stone Age
engraved the first pictures ever made by
man so far as known. Among these rude
ly scratched pictures are pictures of the
horse of that long past period. And it
has been found that the living wId horse
of Central Asia is completely Identical
with the extinct European horse of the
Stone Age.
So 11 looks as If the world had discov
ered another livisg creature out of the
dim past, to add to the Okapi found by
mr .Henry Johnston,
HINDOO MTVTEHiLIZTVriON'
HOW
BY J.
MATERIALIZING THE" BOY.
Mb a:V
HOW IT
TO MAKE any number and variety of
objects appear merely by placing a
cloth on the ground and then lifting it up
again is one of the most popular and
most practiced tricks known.
It Is well adapted for any sort of au
UNeLE SAM
UNCLE SAM has been studying the
famous big trees and the redwoods
of California. He has found that the
best of the mighty forests are in the
hands of lumbermen and will inevitably be
cut down. The gigantic trees are worth
so much money that it is useless to ex
pect that the owners will let the forests
stand for merely sentimental reasons.
Realizing this. Uncle Sam has tried ex
periments to see what could be done to
reproduce them. Of course he has sev
eral national parks now where the won
derful trees will be preserved as long as
they will live, which may be for thou
sands of years. But that is not enough.
He wants to preserve all the forests if he
can.
Now, as the first result of his study.
Uncle Sam has discovered that the great
redwoods can be grown easily from
sprouts, and that in SO years a sprout will
grow into a tree 0 feet high. So by plant
ing trees now every time one is cut down,
it will be possible to maintain at least a
proportion of the mammoth trees In all
the forests of the Pacific Coast without
interfering with lumbering.
Uncle Sam has found out a lot of Inter
esting and hitherto unknown things about
redwoods and the big trees. He finds that
the genuine big tree is of the same general
family as the redwood, but of a different
FAMILIAR SONGS A7NT) THEI'R AUTHORS
Maryland, My Maryland.
James Ryder Randall, author of the
first battle hymn of the Confederacy, was
born In Baltimore, January 3, 1S30. Be
fore and after the war he was editor of
papers In Southern cities. It was In April,
1S61, when Northern troops passed through
his native city that he wrote his fa
mous song. It was set to a German tune
sung to "O Tannenbaum. O Tannen
baum," Longfellow's translation of which,
"O hemlock tree," etc.. is well known.
The first shot that was fired on Fort
Sumter in 1861 divided the Nation as with
a compass. There was no compromise
the cleavage was clear. On one side it
was a case of outraged liberty; on tho
other, a desire for the preservation of
National integrity with all the glories of
the Nation's past.
The people of the South' were fighting
for what they believed to be personal
and political rights, for the perpetuation
of a system dear to their hearts, a system
so interwoven with their social life that
its destruction meant destruction to all
that was dear in family and society.
"Maryland" epitomized the spirit of tho
South:
Maryland, My Maryland.
Ths despot's heel Is on thy shore,
Maryland!
His torch la at thy teipple door.
Maryland!
Avengft the patriotic sore
That' flecked the streets of Baltimore,
And be tho battle Queen of yore.
Maryland, my. Maryland I
Hark to i exiled son's appeal,
Maryland!
My mother state to thee I kneel,
Maryland!
For life and death, for -woe or weal.
Thy peerless chivalry reveal,
And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel.
Maryland, my Maryland!
Come, for thy shield Is bright and strong.
Maryland!
Come, for thy dalliance does thee wrong.
Maryland!
Come to thine own heroic throng.
Stalking with liberty alone.
And chant thy dauntless slogan son?.
Maryland, my Maryland!
I see the blush upon thy cheek,
Maryland!
For thou was ever bravely meek. '
Maryland!
But lo! there surges forth a shriek.
From bill to hill, from creek to creek,
Potomac calls to Chesapeake,
Maryland, my Maryland!
Thou wilt not yield the Vandal toll.
Maryland!
Thou wilt not bend to his control.
Maryland!
Better the fire upon thee roll.
Better the shot, the blade, the bowl.
Than crucifixion of the soul. '
Maryland,- my Maryland!
1 hear the distant thunder hum,
Maryland!
The old-line bugle, fife and drum,
Maryland! '
She Is not deadV nor deaf, nor dumb.
Hurrah! she spurns the Northern scum!
She breatce, she burns, she'll come. hll
i - AUryland. say MaryU&dl
TO MAKE CHILDREN APPEAR
Q BEARD
IS DONEL
dience, old or young. It, Is very spectacu
lar and very easy to accomplish.
The illustration shows a magician rais
ing his cloth from the ground and discov
ering to the audience a small boy, who
apparently has materialized out of the air.
IS TO GKOW GIANT TREES
species. Eoth are related to the cypress.
The Tedwood grows higher than any other
American tree, but the big tree beats it
in thickness and In age.
On the flat lands imder the best condi
tions, the redwood grows to be as high
as 330 feet, while 225 feet Is its maximum
height on the slopes. Most of the red
wood that is cut Is from 400 to SCO years
old. After a redwood' reaches an age
of 500 years, it begins to die from the
top down. The oldest redwood studied
was 1373 years old.
The big trees aTe even older than this.
Many of them stood, almost as great as
they are today, while Christ walked in
Galilee.
The redwodd resists decay so well that
there are sound trees lying today in the
redwood forests that fell long before Co
lumbus discovered America. Through the
periods of Aztec and Spaniard, through
the American Revolution, through the
Mexican War that led to the acquisition
of California, these mighty trees lay
prone, and they are sound today. Re
cently a tree that had fallen 500 years ago,
as the forestsers could see readily from
certain surroundings and characteristics,
was taken to a saw mill and cut up into
slabs Just as good and beautiful as any
taken from freshly felled trees.
The bark of the redwood offers resist
ance to fire almost like the door of a
steel safe. It will not burn except under
the fiercest heat.
The limits of the sea fogs that drift
over the Pacific Coast mark the limits
My Old KentHcky Home.
Stephens Collins Foster was born in
Pittsburg, Pa., July 4, 1S2S. He was a
musician almost from his cradle. Every
Instrument In turn gave up its sweetness
to his touch. To compose the words and
music of .a song was his delight from
childhood. He wrote the words first and
then hummed them over and over till he
found notes that would express them
properly. He had a wide range of cul
ture, was an eager reader and proficient in
French and German, and was somewhat of
a painter. He spent his last days in New
York, where he became somewhat Improv
ident, although he had received large
sums for some of his songs. He died in a
hospital, to which he had been carried
from a Bowery hotel, January IS, 1854
The following are the words of one of his
famous songs:
The sun shines bright in the old 'Kentucky
home;
'Tis Summer, the darkles are gay;
Tho corn-top's ripe, and th meadow's in the
bloom.
While the birds make music all the day.
The young -folks roll on the little cabin floor,
All merry, all happy and bright;
By-'n-by hard times comes a-knocking at the
my old Kentucky home, good night!
Weep no more, my lady;
Oh, weep no more today;
We will sins one song for the- old Kentucky
home.
For the old Kentucky home, far away.
They hunt no more for tha possum and the
coon.
On the meadow, the hill and the shore;
They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon.
On the bench by the old cabin door.
Tho day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart.
With sorrw, where all was delight:
Tha time has come when ths darkles hava to
part x
Then my old Kentucky home, good nlghtl
Tho head must bow, and the back will have
to oend.
Wherever the darky may go;
A few more days, and the trouble all will end,
la the field where tha sugar canes grow.
A few-more days for to tote the weary load
No matter, 'twill never be light;
A few more days till we totter on the road,
Then my old Kentucky home, good night!
Weep no more,. my lady;
O, weep no more today!
We will sing one song for tfce old Kentucky
home.
For the old Kentucky home, far away.
"My Life Is Like the Saaaker Rose."
Richard Henry Wilde was bonr in Dub
lin, Ireland, September 24, 1789. The fam
ily came to America while ho was still -an
Infant. The father soon after died, and
the widow opened a millinery store In Au
gusta, Ga. Her little son-was her clerk by
day and her pupil by night. He learned
rapidly and became quite a student of lan
guages. In manhood years he took a
prominent part in politics and served two
terms in Congress. He made a protracted
visit to Europe, and returned to practice
law In New Orleans, and later became
professor of common law in the Uaiverslty
of Louisiana. He dkd September 19, 1.
The little poem. My Life Is Like a Sum
elk Jloee," which hu carried bU nam
TRICK
FROM UNDER A CLOTH.
Yet the small boy is real flesh and blood.
Dogs, cats, birds In fact, almost any
thing which the manipulator of the cloth!
chooses, can be made to appear from un
derneath "his wonderful cloth.
AVhen this trick is performed on the
stage an assistant always places a rug
where the magician Is to stand, in order
to prove to the audience that no trapdoor
is used. After each miraculous act which
the magician accomplishes, he retires
from the stage and the assistant re
arranges the nig and removes the small
boy or tho dog or the cookstove, or what
ever it was which the magician manufac
tured out of thin air.
To the uninitiated lCuppears as if the
magician left the stage In order to allow
his assistant to rearrange the parapher
nalia, but, as a matter of fact, the as
sistant rearranges the stage in order to
fill up the time while the magician Is
away getting the thing, whatever it may
be, which he wishes to make appear next.
The Hindoo magician does not perform
on a stage, and, consequently, he does noC
use a rug. There Is no need to prove to
the audience that he does not use a trap
door, for the exhibition takes place out of
doors, and the audience can see that tho
magician is' standing on the solid ground.
There are no wings at the side of an
outdoor stage for a magician to retire
into. Therefore, as It is absolutely essen
tial that he shall get out of sight of the
audience occasionally, he has. a small tent
Into which he retires.
Any boy who wishes, for the amusement
of himself and his friends, to play the
part of a Hindoo magician, can make a
small tent such as the Hindoo magicians
use by following the plan shown in the
diagram.
Three light sticks bound together at the
top are erected as one erects the tripod
of a camera. This framework can be cov
ered with any sort of opaque cloth which
happens to be at hand.
A glance- at the other figure In the dia
gram will explain how this famous trick
is accomplished. Whatever the magician
wishes to make appear Is hidden under
the loose robes which he wears. It Is a
very easy matter to manipulate the large
flowing cloth so that it completely hides
tho lower part of the magician's body
from the audience, and then to transfer
the object from his robe to the cloth.
Two-thirds of the success of" a, trick
depend upon the performer's- ability to act
as if he were doing a very wonderful
thing, to make many passes and to mut
ter strange words. This never falls to
Impress an audience, no matter how well
educated it may be, or how much the spec
tators may scoff at the Idea of any power
with which they are unfamiliar.
of the redwood forests. Where the foga
do not reach, the redwood forests cease.
No man can tell what kind of wood will
come from any redwood tree until he cuts
Into It. The centuries of growth produce
so many varying conditions, and each tree
meets so many vicissitudes, that the grain
of its wood runs extremely uneven. Some
times the fibers formed under different
rates of growth exert so great a tension
among themselves that when the log is
sawed the wood suddenly gives way and
splits with a report like a shot.
The redwood, is what foresters call an
"Intolerant tree," that Is, it will not tol-.
erate too much shade, and, consequently.
It cannot get along with other trees that
would rob It of its sunlight. The seeds
of redwoods cannot germinate at all in
shady places.
Yet the sprouts that spring up from
"suckers," that is, sprouts that rise from
the full-grown roots and stems of old
trees, will thrive under the most remark
able conditions. The roots are so strong
that they support them, and, unlike the
seedlings, which would die without sun,
the sprouts have been known to grow into
saplings eight and ten feet high In places
so dark that no ray of sunlight ever en
ters. In some particularly somber and
damp forests, sprouts have been found
growing lustily, although the darkness
was so great that it had robbed them of
all color, and they were as white as the
fcprouts from potatoes, while they had only
a few Inches of pale, almost yellow, leaves
at the very top.
along in literature, was written In 1815, and
is given below. The music by which it is
sung was composed by Charles Thibault.
My life Is like a Summer rose.
That opens to the mornlng.sky.
But ere the shades of evening close.
Is scattered on the ground to die;
Tet on the rose's bumble bed
The sweetest dews of night arc shed.
As If she wept the waste to see, .
But none shall weep a. teas for ma!
My life Is like the Autumn leaf.
That trembles In the moon's pale rays;
Its hold is frail its date Is brief.
Restless and soon to pass away!
Tet ere that leaf shall fall and fade,
The parent tree will mourn its shade,
The winds bewail the leafless tree. -
But none shall breathe a. sigh for me!
My life ia like the prints which feet
Have left on mpa's desert strand
Soon as the rising tide shall beat.
His track will vanish from the sand. '
Yet, as it grieving to efface
All vestige of the human race.
On that Jone shore loud moans the sea,
But none shall e'er lament for me!
I somelimes viah
5 Aid little 1 lommy-
Jo hirn-oh! My-'
Would look' thi
l1Tlpice of "pit!
I v