. CURFEW SONG
. weary wind: Thnn bast irmwn tired of
roaming . -
O'er the far moorland ai:d the Mittilng sea;
Through the (ray dusk tueangel if the gloam
ing -Comes
with its mwai;e and- lis peace for
thee.
All the long day the children have been stray
ing
In the bright meadows, by the . runjiing
streams: '
Now they return a-wearied from their playing
Home to their mothers and the land wf
dreams.
All the long day the lark was singing praises' .'
Far from the tumult of the smoky town:
-All the long day the lambs were 'mid the
daisies. '
All the long day the sheep were on the dawn.
Boon In the fold the lambkins will 1. sleeping.
Soon in the dnsk the lark will dream of
morn.
Breathing of peace, the rivulet is crping
Through 1 the shut lilies, and the budded
thorn.
I have been wearied also with my lodging
Wearied with hopes for what I could not
tin.
W.
rteil with doubts and cravings that were
thronging
Through the dim gate where faith should
V". enter In.
- Mow in the eventide, while stars arc burning '.
-to the gray chancel of the twillghr sky
While the young lambs and children are re
turning
Home to their resting place way sboaid
not I?
Tired of my solitary, willful roaminf
-O'er the sad moorland, by the sighing sea.
Father. I hasten, through the silver gloaming.
Back, like the prodigal of yore, to thee.
Anbu-L Malmon in Gooit Words.
AN EPISODE OF "(53.
Night had fallen on the banks of the
Chippaloga and the fight was over. It
had been hot and fierce while it 1 anted,
and the battered remnant of southern
troops, though at last they had been
farced to flight, leaving one-third their
force on the neldj had thinned the num
bers of their conquerors. Though the
smallest of the episodes of a war whose
issue settled the future of the American
continent and affected the history of all
mankind, the battle had bronght the
peace of death to many a valiant heart.
its bitterness to many a woman and child,
who, yet unaware, were praying, safe in
distant cities, for the husband and fa
thers whose lips would never more meet
theirs.- Overhead, the stars sparkled
keenly in the frosty sky, but from the
horizon a ridge of inky cloud, spread np-
waril rr flip y.Hnith. rVrp:. renins nnt nnlr
to quench their feeble fire but to deepen
the crisp, powdery snow in which the
landscape was smothered. The river
ran like a long, black snake' l)etween its'
whitened banks.
. To Roland Pearse. monotonously
tramping on sentry duty along the track
worn by his own feet in the snow at a
tantalizing distance from the nearest of
.the small watcufires which gleamed
around the central one. where the offi
cers were sunk in sleep, it. seeoied as if
the dawn would never come. A year's
hard campaigning had toughened him
to all the accidents of war, and the cold
vet nod longest night's watch after the
hardest day's fighting or marching came
to him, as a rule, naturally enough. But
ita had been wounded in the fight,
though not seriously, yet painfully, and
between the consequent loss of blood
and the bitter cold was weary well nigh
to death.
In the dead stillness of the might the
monotonous chant of the rivw near at
hand combined with weakness and
weariness iaj stupeiy uis &eurea , nuu tor
minutes together he shuffled along the
"track he had worn in the snow with a
quite unconscious persistence, awaken
ing at the end of his beat with a nerve
shattering start and falling aslnep again
ere he had well turned to retrace his
steps. At last a deeper doze was ter
minated by his falling at full length in
the snow. He gathered his stiff, cold
limbs together and limped along shiver
ing, swearing at the snow which had
penetrated different loopholen of his
ragged uniform, and. slowly melted by
contact with his scarce warmer skin,
served at last to keep him awake. He
. drew from his pocket a tiask containing
a modicum of whisky. It was little
enough: he could gratefully have drunk
twice the amount, but. with a self de
nial taught by many bitter experiences.
, . i i . , , . .
an tooa omy a moutuiui ana reserved
the rest for future needs.
With a vague idea that a new beat
would somewhat relieve the monotony
of his watch, he struck into another
track, and trudged resolutely at right
' angles with his former course, the two
lines of footsteps making . a gigantic
cross upon the snow. His former lassi
tude was again beginning to conquer
him, when it was suddenly dissipated by
a voice, which rang out on the stillness
with startling suddenness, instinct with
anguish:
"If you have the heart of a inu.ii in
. your breast, for God's sake, help me!"
Twenty feet from where Tlie stood,
Roland beheld the figure of a man raised
feebly on one elbow above . the level of
the. now.' There was only just light
enough to distinguish it. ' He approached
sad .shooting rapid glances from the
prostrate figure to every clump of snow
covered herbage or inequality of ground
which might afford shelter for an am-
' "1 am alone," the man said
He spoke each word upon a separate
aob of pain and weakness. He wore the
wrathern uniform, and Roland saw that
one arm and one leg dragged from his
bodv. heirless and distorted. An old
. saber' cut traversed his. face from the
" cheekbone to the , temple. He looked
the very genius of defeat. -
"I am dyingH he panted at Roland.
The young man pulled his beard as he
looked down at him anal shrugged his
shoulders with a scarce perceptible ges
ture. "
.' know,'"' said the ' southerner; "I
don't growl at that.. I've let daylight in
m few of your fellows in my time, and
would again if 1 got the chance. Now
It's my turn, and I'm going to take it
quiet. . But 1 want to say something to
write something to my wife in Charles
ton. Will yoa do that for me? It isn't
much for a man to ask of another. I ;
don't want to die and . rot- in this cursed, t
wilderness without' saying goodby to
her." ' 'V.. v -
" You must look sharp then," said Ro
land, kneeling beside him, "for 1 shall
be called into camp in a few minutes. V .
He took an old letter from his pocket,
and with numbed fingers began to write,
at the wounded man's dictation, on its
blank side. .
. "My darling Rose, he began.
"Roland started as if stung by a snake,
and bent a sudden look of questioning
anger on his companion's face. The
southerner looked back at him for a
moment with a look of surprise. Then
his face changed.
' "Jim Vickers!" said Roland.
"Roland Pearse I" cried the other, and
for a moment there was silence between
them. . :
" "Last time , your name passed my
lips," said Roland slowly, "1 wore to
put a bullet into you on sight."
" guess you needn't," said Vickers;
"I've got two already. Not that I'm
particular to a bullet or so, only you
might finish the letter ,. first, - anyhow.
For God's sake. Pearse," he continued,
sudden " emotion conquering his dare
devil cynicism, "write the letter 1 It's
for Rose. She won't have a cent in the
world if 1 can't send her the news 1
want you to write, and she and the child
will starve. I got her by a trick . I know,
and a nasty trick, too; but I'd have done
murder to get her.. She wa the one
woman I ever cared a straw for, really.
And she loves me too. Shoot me if you
like, but for God's sake write the let
ter." Roland bent his head over tho scrap of
paper again.
"Go on," he said hoarsely, and Vick
ers went on, panting out the words with
an eagerness which proved the sincerity
of his affection. The letter had regard
to the disposition of certain sums of
money for which the voucher had been
destroyed by fire during the siege of
Philipville two days previously. It
was scarcely ended when a bugle sounded
from the camp.
"That's the sentinel's recall," said Ro
land. "1 must get in. I'll forward the
letter the first chance 1 get."
He rose. Vickers, with a dumb agony
of grateful entreaty in his fare, feebly
held up his left band the right arm was
shattered. After a moment's hesitation
Roland bent and took it.
"Here," he said, "take this."
He dropped his . flask beside him.
"Keep your heart up: perhaps you ain't
as bad as you think. I'll see if 1 can get
help for you."
Tears, started to the wounded wretch's
eyes.
"Rose had better have taken you, 1
guess." he said. Roland turned sharply
away. -
"I'll be back as quickly as. 1 can," he
said, and plowed his way back into
camp without a single backward glance.
Coming to a large tent, the only one in
the camp, roughly run up as a tempo
rary hospital, he passed between two
rows of prostrate figures, sunk in the
sleep of exhaustion or tossing in agony,
to where a man in the uniform of an
army surgeon was bending, pipe in
mouth, over the body of a patient. "I
want to speak to you when you've fin
ished, Ned."
The surgeon nodded without raising
his eyes, completed his task, ran his
blood stained fingers wearily through
his hair and turned to Roland with a
yawn and a shiver.
"That's the last of 'em," he said;
been at it since nightfall, and I'm dead
beat. Cut it short, old man; we start
in an hour, and I mean to get a wink of
sleep. ""
"I'm afraid you'll have to do without
it," said Roland. "Do you remember
Jim Vickersr"
"Jim Vickers?" repeated the surgeon.
"Oh, yes! The msri who married Rose
Bishop." '
Roland winced and nodded.
"He's out there, shot in the arm and
leg. Says he's dying. .. He didn't know
me, and asked me to write a word for
him to Rose to his wife. 1 want you
to come and have a look at him."
The surgeon shrugged, -with a half
yawn.
"He's .a Reb, I s'pose? Haven't seen
him in our crowd." .';-'' ' ,
VYes." said Roland, "but one man is
pretty much the same to you as another.
1 reckon, and you know Rose. You'
might save him."
Ned shrugged again, tossed some lint
and Other necessaries into a bag on the
table and they set out together. They
found Vickers . asleep, with the empty
whisky flask lying on the snow beside
him.
There was a ruined shed at a hundred
yards' distance to which they carried the
wounded man, who awoke and - groaned
as he was raised. Arrived under shelter,
Ned silently betook himself to examin
ing Vickers' wounds. Arm and leg were
both shattered, .and three of his ribs
were broken, by a horse's hoof, Roland
watched his . friend's face, but .it wore
the aspect of. even gravity common to
the faces of men of his profession en
gaged at their work, and nothing was to
be learned from it. His task finished,
he patted his patient's shoulder, collected
his tools and left the. shed. Roland fol
lowed him to the door.
"What do you think? Can he pull
through?"
"He would with proper nursing and
good food; not without."
"Can we take him with us?" --
"No, the colonel wouldn't hear of it.
We have' to join Meade at Petersburg
in two days, and we can't afford to be
bothered with lame prisoners. .Leave
him some biscuit and a bottle of whisky
and - let him take his chance. We've
done all we coma.
"I can't leave him," said Roland. -
"You've got mighty fond of him all of
a sudden.", said Ned, with something of
a sneer.
"I'm as fond of him as 1 always was."
answered Roland. , "It's Rose."
- "Well," said the other after a mo-
meaf-s silence, and with the air he might
have worn had he found himself forced
to ply the knife to the flesh of his own
chilJ, "if you want my opinion you
shall have it. You'll do a 'long sight
better business for Rose if you let ' the
fellow die. i And besides you cira't save
him. ' He'd- take .months to heal up in
hospital,-with every care and attention."
: "Somebody, might come . along and
give me a hand to get him to the nearest
'town," said" Roland : vaguely, but tena
ciously. : ' - . . -
'?The nearest town . is thirty miles
away. How would you get him there?
It's impossible. Besides, look at this."
He pointed to the sky, an even blank of
thick, gray cloud. "That'll be falling
in another hour. You'd be snowed up,
And then hang it all, man, I must be
as mad as you are to discuss the thing
at alL You don't suppose that you're
going to get leave of absence to nurse a
Johnny Reb?" .
"I might take it," said Roland.
"And be shot for desertion?"
. "That's as may be. The chances are
I shouldn't be missed till you were too
far away to send back for me. I must
go and answer to my name and then
see if I-can't drop behind." .
- ' Ned held his' head in his hands as if it
would.' else burst with the folly of his
friend's idea. ' - ' ,
"I cant stay here all day talking d d
nonsense," he said angrily. "I'm off
into camp." "
He strode away and Roland kept pace
with him. He did not need his friend's
assurance of the folly of. the act he
meditated. He quite recognized that,
but it was only in the background of his
thoughts, which were -filled with the
memory of a woman's face. How could
he leave the man Rose loved to die
while any possible effort of his might
suffice to save him?
The first flakes of the coming snow
storm fell as the detachment started. It
marched in very loose order, for the
road was rough, the snow deep, most of
the men more or less broken with wounds
and fatigue, and it was known that no
enemy was within sixty miles. Roland
fell little by little to the rear, -where the
clumsy country wagons lumbered along
full of the wounded under Ned's charge.
"You'll take care of the letter," he
whispered, and thrust it into his friend's
hand. "Goodby. 1 shall fall in with
the next detachment if 1 pull through
long enough. If not"
He nodded, and at a sudden turn of
the road, here thickly surrounded by
maple and hemlock, darted among the
trees and listened with his heart in his
ears to the jingle and clatter of arms as
his comrades marched on. It died away
upon the snow laden air, and he retraced
his steps to the shed with an armful of
dry leaves and twigs, ;with which, by
the sacrifice of one of his few remaining
cartridges, he speedily made a blazing
fire. Vickers lay quiet watching him
through half shut lids.
"Say, Roland." he .said . presently,
"what sort of game is this?"
"I'm going to see if I can pull you
through," said Roland, with an affecta
tion of cheerfulness,
"You can't." said Vickers; "I heard
what Ned said just now. I m booked
for the journey through, 1 know it.
Don't you be a fool. ' Follow the boys
and leave me here.. I'm beyond any
man's help. You won't? Weil, you al
ways were a nutmeg' headed sort of
creature. I never knew you to have more
than one idea at a time, and that one
wasn't worth much, as a general thing.
"But this is madness sheer, stark
madness! Look at the snow I Another
hour or two and we shall be snowed
up. It's just chucking a good life after
a bad one. 1 know you ain't doing it
for me; it's for Rose. Well, if it was
any use -I -wouldn't say no. But it isn't,
i shall be a dead man in twenty-four
hours at most. Nothing can save me."
"I'm just going to .the wood," said
Roland, taking up his gun and speaking
in a quite casual tone. '-'If there's any
game about, this weather will drive it
under cover. Til. be back presently,
anyhow."
He flung some of the broken timber of
the shed upon the fire and went out.
He had not taken six paces through
the blinding flakes when Vickers' voice
rang oat with startling loudness and
suddenness, "Goodby, Roland!" and a
loud report seemed to' shake the crazy
old hut to its foundation.
Roland ran back. , Vickers was lying
dead, with firelight , playing brightly on
the barrel of a revolver clinched in his
left hand.
Ten minutes later he was lying in a
deep snowdrift, and Roland was tramp
ing through the snow on the track of
his detachment. . Henry Murray - in
Strand. s .
Why They Leave the Door Open
There are two occasions that are usual
ly improved by the leave-the-door-open
man. One is when becomes in with the
intention of going out again: the other
when he goes out intending to come
right back again. It isn't because it is
any particular trouble to close the door;
it is the human instinct of providing the
ready means of escape, of safety. - The
first thing a burglar does when he enters
a house or a bank is to see that every
thing is clear f or sudden exit. . .
- The wise general always plans the
method of retreat and leaves an opening
for getting away in case, the battle goes
against him. The wily savage and even
wild animals have the same instinct.
When a man enters your office and
leaves' the door ajar he is doing just
what any other animal would do pro
viding for the possible contingency of
being kicked out. . This contingency is
a little more remote than the comfort of
society would seem to warrant. iNew
York Herald. .-.
Why' He Lang-bed.
; A lady belonging to a community
called the '"Sisters of St. John the Bap
tist," in New .York city,; was spending a
month in one of our backwoods districts.
Going to the postoffice shortly after her
arrival, she asked if any letter had come
for Sister Bernardine. The rural post
master looked bewildered for a moment.
"Sister who?" he asked. .-"Sister Ber
nardine,"' repeated the lady, "a Sister of
St. John the Baptist." ' "Well, I should
rather think not,' responded the man
with an uproarious laugh; "I guest
he's, been dead ' pretty hear a hundred
years now." Kate Field's Washington.
- --The Pimpernel. -
The common pimpernel, "poor man's
weather glass," has .' the disadvantage '
of being a native plant and has been al
most completely expelled from- - our
flower gardens in favor of exotics, which
are' rarer but lack much of being as
pretty. .7 The pimpernel is a charming
little flower, which opens about 8 in the
morning and closes late .in the afternoon,
but has the remarkable peculiarity of
indicating a coming shower by shutting
up its petals. '-' For this reason, if for no
other, it deserves ' encouragement, and
would appropriately take the place of
some of the ugly tulips, and other im
ported flowers " now so popular. St
Louis Globe-Democrat.
" Invention of the Fire Engine.
.Toward the close of the Seventeenth
century M. Duperrier in France, Herr
iieupold in Germany and Mr. Newsham
in England introduced almost simul
taneously fire engines having an air
chamber; which rendered the stream of
water continuous and uniform. In ad
dition : to this - these engines were
equipped - with flexible leather hose, in
vented by Jan Van der Heide and his
brother, and which was first put into
practical use iu Amsterdam in the year
1673. Detroit Free Preas.
One Way of Putting a. Spell on Knemles.
- It was a custom in the time of Catha
rine de Medici to make figures of wax
and" melt them slowly before the fire or
stab them with needles, in order to bring
suffering to enemies. This operation
was called putting a spell upon them.
L, Popofit in Popular Science Monthly.
From the earliest times camphor has
been a piactical necessity to man. Its
pleasant perfume, its destructiveness to
insect life and its many remarkable the
rapeutic virtues have more than earned
its great popularity. '
Just
24.
In just 24 hours J. V. 8. relieves constipation
and sick headaches. After it gets the system
under control an occasional dose prevents return.
We refer by permission to W. II. M arshall, Brans
wick House, & F.; Geo. A. Werner, 531 California
Bt, a F.; Mrs. C. Melvin, 1S6 Kearny 6t., 8. F.,
and many others who have found relief from
constipation and sick headaches. G.W. Vincent,
of 6 Terrence Court, 8. F. writes: "lam 60 years
of age and have been troubled with constipation
for 25 years. I was recently induced to try Joy's
Vegetable Sarsaparilla. I recognized in it at
once an herb that the Mexicans used to give us
in the early 50's for bowel troubles. (I came to
California in 1839,) and I kuew it would help me
and it has. For the first time in years I can sleep
well and my system is regular and in splendid
condition. The old Mexican herbs in this remedy
are a certain cure In - constipation and bowel
troubles." .Ask for '
Inn'o 'VwteW0
OUy O Sarsaparilla
For Sale by SNIPES & KINERSLY
' THE DALLES. OREGON.
,
L-H GRIPPE
Bv uslm S. 8. HendHRhe and Urprrnm anil A
B. Cough Cure as directed for colds. They were
snoosssFTrxjXj-s'
used two years ago during the La Grippe epi
demic, and very nattering testimonials of their
power over that disease are at hand. Manufact
ured by the 8. B. Medicine Mfg. Co., at Dufur,
vrejjtm. ror saie Dy ail uruggisui.
A Severe Law.
The English pee-'
pie look more closely .
to the genuineness
of these staples than
we do. In fact, they
have a law under
which- they' make
seizures and de
stroy - adulterated
-.- products' that are
. not whet they are represented to be. Under
this tatnte thousands of pounds of tea have .
been burned because of their wholesale adul- .
teration. . -
Tea, by the way, is one of the most notori
o;if y adulterated aitieles of commerce. . Not
aioue jtfe the bright, shiny green- teas artifi
cially; colored, but thousands of pounds of
substitute for tea leu von ere used to swell -
the bulk of chi-ap tea.; ash, oloe, and willow
k-aves lein? those most commonly used.
Again,, sweeping? frym tea warehouses are
. colored and sold as tea.. Even exhausted tea
leaves gathered from t he tea-houses are kept,
dried, and made over i.nd nd tUeir way into"
the cheap teas.
, The Euglink government atveropts to blimp
this ou: by confist-ari- u; but jto tea is too '
..poor fur u. and the result i, that probably
the poorest teas used by any nation are those.
Co rui timed in America. ,
. Beech's Tea is presented with the guar
anty that it is vneoiorcd and. unadulterated;
la fact, the sun-curea tea leal para and sim
ple. Its purity insures superior strength,
: about oh third-lets rf it being required tot
an infusion than of lUoatificlal teas, and its
fragrance and exquisite flavor is at. onoe ap
parent. It will' baa revelation, to yoo. 1st
- order that its pmitf and qaality may kegsar.
' . aateed. it is sold only la pomnd psexsgs
bearing this trade-mark : .
BEECI
;7ftireA5NdKbod:
HtNo par powid. - Jot sale at
The Dalles
THE
Of the Leading City of Eastern Oregon.
During the . little over a year of its existence it
has earnestly tried to fulfill the objects for -which it
was founded, namely, to assist in developing our
industries, to advertise the resources of the city and
adjacent country and to work for an open river to
the sea. Its record is before the people and the
phenomenal support it has received is accepted as the
expression of their approval. Independent in every
thing, neutral in nothing, it will live only to fight
for what it believes to be just and ris ht.
Commencing with the
vclume the weekly has been enlarged to eight pages
while the price ($1.60 a year) remains the same.
Thus both the weekly
more reading matter for
published in the county.
GET YOUH
DONE AT
THE CHILE 1
BooK apd Job priptir;
Done on
LIGHT BINDING
Address all Mail .Orders to
Chronicle
THE DALLES,
enionicie
first number of the second
and daily editions contain
less money than any paper
WTIflG
Short Notice.
NEATLY DONE.
-. :..-, i - -
Pub. Co.,
- - OREGON.
BOOH!