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About Corvallis gazette. (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 8, 1901)
(4 1 f THE OTHER MAN. Z E stood ofi the brink of the preci pice and looked over. Three hun- dred feet below bim the sea broke on the somber rocks. The man's muscles tensloned and he drew a deep breath. What an easy way to end it all! Just one little step those rocks below were no bunglers; they would make no mistake over their work, and the sea would tell no tales and then then he would be away from it all, and would never have to bear the agony of hearing that she was married to Everett. Married to Everett married to Ever ett! The words clanged In his ears. He groaned aloud and bent hastily over the edge. A mist came before his eyes and his breath rose in a choking heave to bis throat; the ground rocked sickeningly beneath him, and for one dizzy second be thought he was falling falling down that interminable space. Then the mist passed, the ground topped rocking and he gasped with relief to find himself still standing safe and sound on firm earth. He turned away with a scornful laugh at his own weakness. Home again, he flung himself into an easy-chair and lit his pipe, resolved to give way no longer to morbid imag inings. He picked np a magazine, but bis thoughts flew off at a tangent to the dance which was to take place that very evening, to. which he bad been invited. He had vowed not to see her again till he could settle once for all the dem on of unrest within him, and a crowded ballroom was the last place for impas sioned avowals. He thought how cool and beautiful she would look in her white muslin, with her fluffy golden hair framing her sweet little flower-like face. Perhaps he would go, after all. Then a second figure rose up to spoil the picture handsome;, happy-go-lucky Everett, with a merry word for everyone, dancing untiring attendance on the fas cinating hostess and never leaving her side for a moment. How dared be take possession of her In that way! And bow could she put up with it, unless His pipe mankind's universal baby bottle for once failed utterly In its mission of soothing. He tossed it angrily- across the table and buried his face in his hands, lost in a whirl of mis erable conjectures. His thoughts flew back to that dance j one week ago one week so crowded ' with hopes and fears that it seemed a lifetime. He remembered those two dances, the music, the scent of flowers in the conservatory, and, more distinctly than all, the laughing face of Dolly. Then those few overheard words rushed through his brain. He clinched bis fists and his face flushed at the rec ollection. He had drifted from the ball room to the conservatory. Would she consent? That was the question that throbbed In his brain. Should he say the words that would decide his future life and hers? He had puffed at a ci garette, and stared 'at the thin wisps of blue smoke. Would his hopes fade Into nothingness as that fragrant smoke faded and vanished into air? And then he heard people talking. He recognized the voice of Everett, and then Dolly's. They were seated on the opposite side of the conservatory, and had not seen bim as he sat almost con cealed behind a tangle of palm leaves. "Dolly," Everett was saying, "you must say 'Yes.' My whole life depends upon it. . We have been chums so long. Say you will and make me the happiest man in England not to speak of Scot land, Ireland and Wales. Say 'Yes!' 1 know what you want to say that we ought to be getting back again. And there are all those loathsome people who want dances. Confound 'em. You will? I knew you would " Fraser had sat there, almost unable to move. He did not know how long. The music from the ballroom floated out into the conservatory, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the guests. All hope, all Interest in life was gone snatched from him by those few overheard words. People were asking for bim. What did it matter; nothing mattered now. A voice aroused him. He looked up, and saw Everett before himEvrett, who was bis friend; who was now his rival his eenmy! "Hallo, Fraser, old man, you seem to be ten fathoms deep in the blue dumps! What's the matter now? Come and have a smoke with me. I've been look ing for you half the evening." And that all happened a week ago! A weekthe most miserable in his life. And now he was trying to forget her. What a fool be was! II. The thought of that steep drop down to the sea kept recurring to bis mind again and again with a fatal fascina tion put it away from his as be would. Through all bis broodings Its somber Invitation stood out clear and distinct. He could see even now the Jagged rocks lurking below, dripping with pray, looking for their prey. At last be got up. It was no good staying in. Inaction was torture to him in his present frame of mind. He would try and walk it off. He started off rapidly, without any definite aim or intention but uncon sciously his steps turned toward the coast, and presently be found himself once more ascending the steep little path Be bad traversed that morning. As he neared the summit be per ceived that there was a man's figure before him, stooping perilously over the dangerous edge, evidently gathering some plant from the cliff below. It was a foolhardy thing to do, and evidently bespoke a strong brain. A little nearer, and he stopped short abruptly. The stooping figure was Everett. All his lore and hate surged up with in him. Everett, the man who had stolen his love from bim the man who bad made bis life a blank and barren waste. A thousand devils seemed let loose within him. How very near that stooping figure was to death so near that one touch Just one little motion of the foot and he would lose his bal ance and go speeding, speeding down those smiling cliffs and be burled to pieces on those cruel rocks beneath! His breath came quickly. Suppose it had happened accidental ly? Even as he thought he knew he was a coward. Even then be was thinking of his own skin. Suppose a sudden noise made the man start? Al most unconsciously he opened his lips, and a harsh "Hallo!" broke from him. Everett's nerves , were steel. He turned his sunny face and. smiled over bis shoulder. "Hallo, old man!" he responded amia bly. Fraser came and stood dumbly beside him, holding his hands tightly together behind him to hide their shaking. He had forgotten Everett was a sailor. He watched him furtively leaning down further and further, till it seemed Impossible he could retain his balance; and the waves below reached up hun gry white arms to catch him, and fell back again with a murmuring thunder of anger at their failure. A little further. Fraser caught his breath. "You'll be over in a minute!" he said gruffly. Everett laughed easily. "Not I!" he said confidently. "But, 1 say, old chap, you might just hang on to my legs for a minute, will you? 1 want to reach that great bit just there, and. it's just beyond me." The waving pink bloom nodded Im pudently up at them just out of reach. Fraser stood motionless, moistening; his dry lips. - Everett looked around. "D'you mind, old man?" he said. And mechanically the other stretched out his hand and obeyed. Now now! one movement of his fin gersjust the opening of his hand He fought the thought back, gasping for breath. Everett leaned still farther. He half glanced back. "They're for Dolly, you know," he said, "to wear this evening." The fingers opened as if by some sud denly pressed spring. There was a sud den cry. and then then something went rolling,- rolling, striking and bounding sickeningly down that steep side. For an instant the white face was up turned. "All right, old chap I know acci dent!" floated up brokenly, and then there was a last hideous thud, and the waves clutched greedily at their unrec-' ognizable prey and drew it under. And the swooping seagulls shrieked wildly and circled upward. Fraser stood as If turned to stone, gazing with distended eyeballs at the gurgling eddies where that that thing had disappeared. Murderer! Murderer! Murderer: The waves lashed it at him, the sea gulls shrieked It, the whole living and inanimate world flung the awful word at him. He stood paralyzed. Had he done it he? . What had he done? He held his hands vaguely and piteously out before him, asking them mutely. Murderer! Murderer! Murderer! Yes, it was true true! His hands told him his hands that he had opened. God! They were blood-red stained with blood! The grass was red the sky the very sea was blood! He flung up bis bands with an awful cry and sprang blindly over that fatal edge. "I say, old fellow, do wake up and stop having the horrors! You don't know how beastly awful you look!" Fraser opened bis eyes slowly and stared in blank terror at the handsome tanned face looking down at him. He wondered vaguely whether he was dreaming now or had just awoke from a red nightmare. The voice went on: "I only looked In to say ta-ta. I've had a telegram calling me back to Ire land Immediately. Old Chris Murdocb has relented and consented to our be ing publicly' engaged. And all through Dolly, too bless her little heart! She's Meg's dearest friend, you know, and she's been moving heaven and earth to soften the old chap's heart." He waived an airy good-by. "Ta-ta!" be said merrily. Fraser gazed speechlessly at him, the tears still standing thick on his White face. Everett turned back, half-laughing. "1 wish 3-ou wouldn't look at me as though I were .a ghost!", be protested "So long!" Archbishop's Apt Retort. The archbishop of Dublin recently performed a marriage in the family of a wealthy Irish distiller. After the breakfast the distiller - thanked the archbishop effusively for his share of the-proceedings and said to bim as he took his leave, "The Lord be with you." "And with thy spirit," la report ed to hare been the rejoinder. flUMOK OF THE WEEK STORIES TOLD BY FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. Odd, Curious and Laughable phases of Human Nature Graphically Por trayed by Eminent Word Artist of Our Own Day -A Budget of Fun. Mr. Cripps Can you induce the cook to have one of her friends come and take dinner with her to-night? Mrs. Cripps The Idea! What for? Mr. Cripp3 I expect to bring Jones and Smith home with me, and I'd like to have a nice dinner for tbem. Phila delphia Record. Il Theatric Parlance. AmateurWhat does it mean In theatric circles when they say . the "ghost walks?" Veteran Actor It means that the rest of us don't have to. Detroit ' Free Press. Inherent Talent. mmumtm Deacon Shanghai Dat boy certainly Is full ob music, Mrs. Jackson. Mrs. Jackson Yes, Deacon; hit comes nachel toe dat chile: his nun war run ovah by one o' dem street plan ners. Taking the Stinn tit of It. "Have I got a bright future?" anx iously inquired the sweet young gradu ate, who was chock-full of ambition. "Well, it isn't as bright as it might be," answered the antique clairvoyant, who was taking a long look into it; "but," she added with a girlish titter, "perhaps the gas is turned down." Puck. Proved Hia Point. "Opportunity comes once to every man." "That's right; and any man is bound to become famous if he only lives long enough." "Oh; I don't quite believe that." "You don't? Suppose a man lives to be 150 years old; wouldn't that make him famous?" Philadelphia" Record. Trying to Follow the Injunction. "And now," continued his angry spouse, thoroughly aroused. "I am go ing to give you another piece of my mind what are you doing?" "I am turning the other ear," patient ly . responded Mr. Meeker. Chicago Tribune. The Mystery of Motive. "Why," asked the young wife, naive ly, ''do you always whistle when you get my millinery bills?" "To raise the wind!" replied the man. Detroit Journal. ;. " In 'iaputabl-. M&nirua Oh, Ethel, you never saw me behave like that. Ethel (aged 4) Well, I haven't know ed you so very long. Tit-Bits. Compulsory Proportion. "You're not half so stout as you were Billy." "No; we've moved into a flat, and I Just had to get thin." Indianapolis Journal. She Was Willing to Help. Beggar Plase, yer honor, do heln a poor old body. Irritable Old Chap Don't bother me, woman. Can't you see -that I pnnlrin't possibly get a hand into my pockets? Beggar Ah, but perhaps I could, yer honor. His'Graspina: Disposition. "They say," remarked the mother thoughtfully,; referring to the young man who had called the previous even ing, "that he is of a grasping disposi tion." . " "Well,-1 should say he wast' ex claimed the small boy. "Willie!" cautioned his sister, but it was too late. . "You just ought to have seen the way he grasped Lou when she said she'd marry him," persisted the youngster. Chicago Evening Post - Crowded Out. "Have you called on Penelope since she got back?" "Yes, but I'll have to go again " "Why?" - . "She got started first in telling her summer experiences and I didn't get a word in edgewise about what I'd been doing all summer." Chicago Record. Discouraarlne'. "You are the first girl I ever loved," aid Mr. Simper to Miss Klttlsh. "In that case you may cease loving me. I do not care to be practiced on." Correct. "Johnny," queried the teacher of the new pupil, "do you know your alpha bet?" "Yes'm," answered Johnny. "Well, then," continued the teacher, "what letter comes after A?" ' "AH the rest of them.1" was the" tri umphant reply. For Spoons. "Here's a girl," remarked the Query Editor, "who writes to know 'what 1 the popular spoonholder of this sea son.' " "Evidently," replied the Snake Edi tor, "she's never had any beaux." "Why?" "Because If she had she'd know that the most popular one Is the parlor sofa." Philadelphia Press. Heavy Incidentals. She Is the writing of poetry very lu crative? He Well, it would be If one didn't have to lay out 50 cents or so every week on paper and stamps! Puck. B.eunry. Husband (angrily) Don't forget, madame, that you are my wife. Wife Oh, never fear. There are some things one can't forget. Detroit Free Press. An?r'ed Her Pleasure. He I am afraid you don't like my dancing. She On the contrary, I think it is very amusing. Nominated. "What does Mildred mean when she says that she Is writing her letter of acceptance to Theodore," Denver News. Hiehly Knj yable. Buggins I hear Smitkins is learning golf. Does he enjoy it? - Muggins Says it's great. He has al ready put three caddies In the hospi tal. Philadelphia Record. Terrible. Scene: A railway car. First Artist Children don't seem to me to sell now as they used. Second Artist (in a hoarse whisper) Well, I was at Stodge's yesterday; he had just knocked off three little girls' beads, horrid raw things, when a deal er came in, sir; he bought 'em directly, took 'em away, wet as they were, on a stretcher, and wanted Stodge to let him have some more next week. Old Lady (putting her head out of window and shrieking) Conductor, stop the train and let me out, or I'll be murdered! Intervals in Kxcitetnent. "Ma, when I get big I'm goln' 'way off to be a pirate." "Are you, Bobby?" "Yes, but don't you be scared; I'll come home at night to sleep." Chicago Record. Plain Evi lence of Art. I ,m She I came to study art. Artist I knew you could paint the moment I looked into your face. They All Came Back. "Half a dozen of us fellows," said the struggling young author, "held a com petition in short story writing. My story won the prize." "Conceded to be the best, eh?" . "Well, we sent them all to the samt magazine, and the editor kept mint longer than any of the others." Phila delphia Press. Most Unfashion-tble. "My gracious!" suddenly exclaimed little Mabel Blugore, who had been day-dreaming, "I suppose there's no help for It." "What are you thinking of, dear?" asked her mamma. "Why, I was just thinking when we die we'll have to wear ready-made heavenly robes for a few days till we can be fitted." Philadelphia Press. The Only I'owibility. He Nothing could ever come between us, could It, dear? She I can't think of a single thing, unless I should happen to become en gaged to some other man. Harper's Bazar. Used to It. Mr. Lurker Excuse me, Miss Snap per, but I have long sought this oppor tunity Miss Snapper Never mind the pre amble, Mr. Lurker. Run along In and ask pa. He's been expecting this would come for the last two years. Tit-Bits. A Courteous Offer. "Couldn't I be squeezed In there some how?" asked the pretty girl, as she vainly sought entrance to the crowded car. "If you can get in, I have one arm free," exclaimed a young man in the center of the carBaltimore American. No Birds. "I am told that Miss Frocks is a vege tarian," said Mrs. Fosdick. "She is," replied Mrs. Keedick, "even In her millinery." Pepper tn Olden Times. Dr. Adolpb Miller, of Philadelphia, President of the Pennsylvania My cological Club, In a dissertation on the pepper plant, says that during the Middle Ages in Europe pepper was the most esteemed and most important of all the spices. Genoa, Venice and oth er commercial cities of central Europe were indebted to their traffic In pepper for a large part of their wealth. Its Importance as a means of promoting commercial activity and civilization during the Middle Ages can hardly be overrated. Tribute was levied in pepper, and donations were made in this spice, which was frequently also used as a medium of exchange In place of money. When the imperial city of Rome was besieged by , Alaric, the King of the Goths, in 408 A. D., the ransom demanded Included 5,000 pounds of gold, 30,000 pounds of silver and 3,000 pounds of pepper, illustrating the Importance of this spice at that time. . V Fifty miles from the town where a man dies, the papers. If they mention his death at all, tell the truth about him. . . .. . HANDLESS BUT HANDY ARMLESS PEOPLE HAVE ACCOM PLISHED DIFFICULT FEATS. Individuals Minus Upper Limbs Have Become Famous Artists, Dextrous Penmen, Expert Musicians and Ar tisans. That success in art is not the monop oly of such as are dowered with the normal number of limbs Is conclusive ly proved by the skill of Mile. Rapln, a Swiss artist, who, though without arms, has made a name for herself with her portraits and bas-reliefs, and of the Belgian painter, recently deceas ed, whom many of us have doubtless seen at -work in the Antwerp picture gallery copying the wo-ts of the old masters there on view. Other armless artists, too, have ac quired fame, among whom may be mentioned the celebrated Miss Biffen, who earned a living as a miniature painter. Originally on exhibition at Bartholomew fair, she was seen by the Earl of Morton, who took her under his patronage and paid for her artistic ed ucation. She was a favorite of George IV. and William IV., the latter of whom allowed her a small pension. Turning to earlier armless celebrities, mention must be made of John Vale rius, born in Germany In 1007, who was capable of performing many sur prising feats. He could shave himself, play on the drum, fence with much skill, and, in short, use his toes with as much adroitness as most men can their hands. He possessed, however, a modern rival in the person of Herr Unthan, whom many will remember as exhibiting himself a few years ago in London, where he surprised large audi ences with his marvelous feats. Matthew Buckinger, who was born at Nuremberg seven years later than Valerius, was but a mere trunk, pos sessing neither arms nor legs. Despite his natural disadvantages, however, he Is said to have been ah excellent per former on the flute, bagpipe and trum pet, while his sketches landscape, fig ures and coats of arms which were executed with a pen, were equal to the most finished engravings. His cali graphy, of which examples are still ex tant, would have done credit to the most expert writing master, and, in deed, he was able to make no incon siderable Income by the sale of these specimens of his skill. He figured likewise In the not very Invidious role of wife beater, for on one occasion when one of his wives he was married four times insulted him, he sprang upon her, got her down, and buffeted her so severely with bis stumps that she was glad to escape further chastisement by promising amendment in the future a promise that she faithfully kept. Equally marvelous were the feats of William Kingston, who at the com mencement of the present century re sided at Ditcheat, near Bristol, where he cultivated a small farm. He could, without other aid than that of his toes, saddle and bridle his horse, milk his own cows, cut his own hay, bind it up In bundles, and carry it about the field for bis cattle. He was an excellent carpenter, too, and had acquired no little renown as a hammer thrower, being able with his feet to cast a heavy sledge hammer as far as most men could with their hands. Very expert, too, is Caleb Orton, an American, though in his case his skill has brought him within the clutches of the law, for though without hands he contrived to forge a postal money order. For that nefarious purpose he employed his mouth, and although the authorities were at first incredulous and" doubted the truth of his confes sion, he soon put the matter beyond doubt by ocular demonstration. Gripping the pen between his teeth, he, by means of a series of rapid move ments of his head, executed one of those elaborate designs of birds, beasts and scroll work In which writing ex perts delight, and proved to the satis faction of everybody present his un doubted culpability. AT THE END OF 2000 A D. What One Writer Predicts VIII Hap pen a Centnry Hence. The twentieth century Is to be the century of change; science, which is going at the trot, will then go at the gallop, says a writer in London Truth. We think we know much; those who will live 100 years hence will wonder we knew so little. The folowing is prematurely quoted from the Daily Cinematograph of Dec. 31, 2000: "On the eve of the twenty-first cen tury it will be in the minds of many to contrast the present with the past. Ail are aware that gigantic strides have been made recently in the direction of progress, but few realize that only a hundred years ago men traveled , in trains over the land and in ships over the water; that they communicated with each other by telegraph; that their streets and houses were lit with gas or with an early adaptation of electricity; that coal was used In almost every household; that hundred of . millions were spent in taking Instead of In sav ing life; that the soldier was more honored than the surgeon; that well dressed women wore furs in the day while the sun was shining and half stripped themselves in the evening and that it was not generally acknowledged that one of the most Important of du ties is to enjoy the legitimate pleasures of this exquisitely designed world! "Only a century ago selfishness and superstition still bound our predeces sors, but science has removed these bonds from us. As we walk in the silent streets and look upon the smoke less sky, where thousands of aerial carts, cabs and carriages hurry hither and thithet, we wonder bow man can have lived without flying. - Even yet we are surroundedby a decaying past Underground London Is said to be honeycombed witb tunnels in which trains ran up to fifty years ago! In many parts of the country telegraph and telephone poles still stand with dangling wires, though "wireless tele phony has long since superseded those older methods of - communication. Builders occasionally come upon leaden piping through which gas was conduct ed when gai was an illumlnant At Plymouth the government retains from a sentimental motive a fleet of Iron clads, though electricity long ago made warfareon the water Impossible. "Perhaps the most striking feature of modern civilization la that there are no ugly women. The improved condi tions of life, the place which legitimate enjoyment has in the modern scheme of existence, the extirpation of many forms of disease, and the rational atti tude of mind of the average woman have worked wonders. No modern playwrlter would think of elaborating a plot In which married life was pre sented as having a dark side, for the woman of to-day is a Joy in ber own bouse, and not only in the houses of others, as there Is reason to believe was the case a hundred years ago. Ev erywhere we see peace, prosperity, progress, and It is therefore with feel ings of the utmost gratitude that we watch the departing hours of the twen tieth century." Dr. Stubbs, the Bishop of Oxford, was once importuned by a woman who, knowing his experience of the Holy Land, kept on asking him what places she ought to visit, as she was starting on a trip to Palestine. After answer ing topographical questions without number, he was again asked: "But. really, what place would you advise me to go to?" "To Jericho, madam," said the bishop, sweetly. A London newsboy, who is accus tomed to shout- "Extras" every even ing, recently had a very bad cold and became hoarse. Feeling himself atxa disadvantage, he carried a large card in front of him, on which he had roughly written: "Hush! Noise Is a nuisance! 1 can't shout my extras, but I have them all the same!" It idid not take the boy long to sell out his stock of pa pers to the grateful passers-by. In her book on "Some Players," Amy Leslie says that Edwin Booth's detesta tion of "Richard III." was frank and Incurable. One night, when in the most magnificent instant of Richard, a super fell in a writhing, squirming at tack, which set the country audience laughing, Booth said, quietly, after the fall of the curtain, amid shouts of mis guided laughs, "What was the matter, captain?" The ' trembling captain owned reluctantly that one of his twenty-five-cent men had been seized in a fit. "Please pay thirty cents next time, and employ one whose fits may not in terfere with Richard. Richard Is un endurable enough without the addition of rented fits." The desire of the inhabitants of Sing Sing to change the name of the town recalls a somewhat similar desire on the part of the inhabitants of the town of Rugeley, England, to a correspon dent of the New York Times. A man named Palmer had made Rugeley no torious by an atrocious murder, and a deputation of the inhabitants waited on the hime secretary -with a petition for leave to change the name. The min ister hesitated, and asked what name they proposed to substitute. They re plied that they had not decided. "What do you say," said he, "to taking my name?" They expressed their unquali fied delight, and obtained the home sec retary's consent to this method of ob literating the memory of the obnoxious Palmer. The home secretary in ques tion was Lord Palmerston. The town is still known as Rugeley. When George Sand, the famous French novelist, was living at Nahant, near the close of her life, she was fairly caught on her own grounds by a de termined British journalist, of her own sex, who opened a formidable note book and demanded: "At what hour do you work, madame?" "I never work," replied George Sand, gayly. "Ho! But your books? When do you make them?" "They make themselves, morning, evening, and night." This was baffling, but the British lady, al though Tleflcient in grace, did not lack grit, and said: "What is your own fa vorite, may I ask, among your novels?" " 'Olympia,' " returned George Sand, with a beaming smile. " 'Olympia? I do not know that one." Perhaps I have not yet written it!" and the vic timized author beat a hasty retreat, much amused as she looked back and saw that her nonsense was being duly jotted down in the formidable note book. Dr. Johnson's Regard, for Truth It was said of Dr. Johnson that he always talked as though he were tak ing an bath. He detested the habit of lying or prevaricating in the slightest degree, and would not allow bis ser vants to say he was not at home if he was. "A servant's strict regard for the truth," said he, "must be weakened by such a practice. If I accustomed my servant to tell a lie for me have I not reason to apprehend that he will tell them for himself?" A strict adher- j ence to the truth the doctor considered j as a sacred obligation, and in relating j the smallest anecdote be would not al- j low himself the minutest addition to embellish his story. . Mistaken Identity. Attorney You say you had called to see Miss Billings and was at the bouse ; at the time the burglary, was commit-i ted? Witness Yes, sir. ' f "Then how did It happen that when ' the prisoner dashed into the room and assaulted you you leaped through the window and went home, making no . attempt to defend the lady or give the alarm?" . "I thought it was her father." Hart-1 ford Times. ; Bootblacks in Berlin. Bootblacks are seldom seen on the streets of Berlin, owing to the fact that it is one of the duties of German servant girls to sblne shoes In the household, and of porters to attend to it in hotels. There are bootblacks at tbe principal railway depots, but they find more patrons among women than among men. What a failure most of u make of life. : - . , DEVIL DANCERS OF CEYLON. Earn a Good Living; by Exorcising Da mods from the r'ialc -3Bij real Singhalese devil dancers in Ceylon axe most ferocious and savage fellows. Their dances are revolting and horrible. BuP-tbeir -profession is popular and affords a royal living for the men who go into it. There Is a superstition among the Singhalese that when a man falls aick he is supposed to be afflicted with a deylL In order to rid him of the disease the devil dancers are called in to propitiate the demon. Two or more of them go by night to the sick man's house. In front of which a small, square lnclosure, about six feet high, has been made of grasses and palm leaves. This answers the purpose of the green room at a thea ter. The men appear at first without masks and with long yellow grass streamers hanging from their heads and waists. The only light cast on the scene Is by torches made of sticks, around which pieces of cloth are wrap ped, dipped In oil. To the music of a tom-tom, kept up on one note, the dancers sing a peculiar, wild, funeral dirge, in which the spectators often Join. The dancers begin by slowly moving about, stretching the right foot and bringing the left up to it, and appear as if they were searching for some thing, during which the singing sounds like crying. They are then asking the devil to appear. There are twenty-four ; different sorts of devils, and, after the j first part, the dancers are constantly j changing their clothes to represent the entire species; some wear masks, some jdon jaws and terrible teeth reaching ! to the ears; the jaws open and close in a very realistic manner. A dance lasts over two nights, as the wholetwenty-four devils have all to be personated before the particular de mon who is afflicting the sick man is pitched on. When he gives signs of bis presence the dancers go into a sort at frenzy,-which increases as he takes possession of them; the tom-tom beats faster and faster, the chanting grows into yells, the men whirl and stamp, the bells fastenedby bracelets on to their ankles jingle and clash. At this stage the dancers appear to be looking for some object to give the devil in sacrifice, and into which be may pass. A chicken is usually offered by the friend of the sick man, and this unfortunate bird is seized upon, twist- -ed and tormented and bitten between the false teeth, until the dancers, worn out, move slower and slower, and the chicken sinks into a sort of trance, Which Is a sign that the devil has ac cepted the sacrifice, and Is willing to pass from the man into the bird. Now and then the bird is revived by some charmed water being thrown on its head, and then the torture of it begins again. After this the men don sheep skin petticoats and capes, and in the torchlight look more and more diabol ical and frenzied in-their thanks to the devil for consenting to leave the lick man. " When the bird dies it is a sign that the devil has left the man, and he will be cured. The bird is then throwtf into the river, to be carried to the sea. It is never killed, and never eaten after dy ing. About an hour of this sort of thing Is quite enough; it Is really hor rible and revolting, and one is thank ful when the men leave off to go to drink the toddy prepared for them, and make a night of it. New York Journal. "April's Sowing" Is Miss Gertrude Hall's first long story. The title Is taken from Browning's "Pippa Passes." Two weeks after Its publication, 40. 000 copies of "Alice in Old Vincennes" were sold. It is a story of American life by Maurice Thompson. Wm. Dean Howells, the foremost fig ure In American letters to-day, is to be one of the literary advisers to the reorganized bouse of Harper & Bros. Annie Russell Marble has written a book with a suggestive title. '"Books That Nourish Us," published by T. J. Crowell & Co. It is certain that year ly come from the press books that give us neither temporary nor lasting nour ishment, and the necessity arises for a wise choice. Here Is a story told In "Notes and Queries": A lady asked the novelist what Jjer duty was in certain difficult circumstances, and; received a clear re ply. "But," she objected, "if I did that I should die." "Surely that has noth ing to do with you doing your duty," answered George Eliot. The' Biography of a Baby" is the title of an unusual volume by Miss Millicent W. Sbinn. Miss Shinn is a Callfornian and still lives there. She has always been interested in babies. and has made a careful study of them both as teacher and friend. Published by the Century Company. Apropos of prefaces something that few care to praise Mr. Kipling gives ' the following good advice, given when he was asked to write a preface: "Some rather interesting experiences have taught me that the best way of making a man bate me for life is to meddle in any way with his work. If the book is good, it will go, and If not nothing will make it stir. All the men who want to stick a knife into me would stick it into you as soon as they saw my name pre facing your book. Bitter experience has taught that that kind of thing doesn't pay. If a book stands by Itself, it will stand by Itself; but if you use an other chap's name to help it to a start, yon will get all tbe wbackg that the other chap would have got if he bad written the book, in addition to a few whacks on your own merits." It is folly to attempt to please every body. It matters not in which direc tion a man faces he must of necessity turn his back on half the world. Women either love or hate; there Is. bo happy medium In their affections.
