piMand
! A Tale of tin Early Settisrs f
: oi Louisiana. 1
BY AUSTIN C. CURDICK
CHAPTER I.
We who turn our eyes westward anil
beholding the "Star of Empire" setting
amid the golden waters of the Pacific,
while the folds of otir nation' banner al
most enwrap the continent, are prone to
look upon the valley of the Mississippi as
a region old in civilization. Yet, long
after the Atlantic shore were gemmed
with "cities and thriving villages, the
great valley of the mid-continent was a
vast solitude unknown to our forefathers.
Long after colleges and schools, govern
ments and courts, societies and churches,
had arisen and flourished in the Atlantic
colonies, the red mun hunted his game
In the forest, and drove his canoe over
the bosom of the great Father of Waters,
unmolested by the pale-faced Invader.
In the middle of the sixteen century, a
bold and hardy band of adventurous
knights and warriors, led by Hernando de
Soto, landed at the hay of Santo Spirltu,
In Florida, and, in all the pride and pomp
of glorious array, startedoff through the
-deep forests in quest of those fabled
cities where untold gold awaited their
coming. On they went, meeting and
overcoming obstacles innumerable, and,
at length, a worn and weary remnant of
the once proud host sat down to rest upon
the bank of the mighty river. A little
further on, they went through the wilds
of Arkansas, but the same stern, dark
forest, with Its avenging hordes of red
men, met them at every step, and they
came back to the Mississippi, where De
Soto laid down and died. His great,
hard heart was broken. The remnant of
his party hastily constructed a few rude
vessels, and sailed down the river fol
lowed by the curses of the Indians.
After this, the great valley remained
untrodden by the white men for a cen
tury and a half, when, in July, 1073, a
small band of Europeans and Canadians,
under Joliet and Marquette, reached the
banks of the great river. They had come
from the St. Lawrence, and had wan
- dered through the vast solitudes of the
Mauniee and the Wabash. They .floated
down as far as the mouth of the Ar
kansas, where, having made themselves
sure that the Mississippi emptied Into the
Gulf of Mexico, they returned to their
people In Canada. Great rejoicings were
held over the reports these adventurers
brought with them; yet Joliet aud Mar
quette both died ere the white man again
' sought the Father of Watfers.
Seven years later, the celebrated La
Salle, at the head of forty soldiers and a
few monks, found the mighty river, and
after recrossing the Atlantic, and return
ing with more aid, and after passing
through adventures almost incredible, he
fairly commenced a colony in Louisiana.
In 1087, he was assassinated by his own
companions, and the few white men left
were little better than a mere handful
of wanderers In the wilderness.
A few years later, came the men whose
names are cherished as among those who
suffered the most and worked the most
faithfully for the noble homes of the
South. Most prominent among thera
were the two brothers, Iberville and
Bienville, the latter of whom was the
founder of the city of New Orleans, and
for many years governor of the colony.
From this time really commenced the
growth of Louisiana.
This territory was inhabited by numer
ous tribes of Indians, more numerous,
perhaps, than in any other section of the
country. Some of them were mere fam
ilies. Insignificant in their capacity as dis
tinctive tribes, but yet speaking an idiom
peculiar to themselves, cherishing their
own exclusive traditions, and exercising
all the rights of independent powers. But
the principal tribes in the southern coun
try were three in number the Natchez,
the Choctaws, and the Chickasaws, and
with these and the Vazoos, did the
French of that period have mostly to
deal.
It was In the summer of 1727 that we
Introduce our readers to a pleasant home
on the banks of the Mississippi. Some
forty miles above where the city of Baton
Rouge now Btands, the Marquis Brioh St.
Julieu had located himself, and erected a
house. He was now past the prime of
life, having been some five years on the
road through the second half century of
his life, and had left France out of pure
disgust for the society he was obliged
to mingle with there. Unlike most of
those who came to the net? home in the
vast wilderness, he ' was wealthy. He
had left his wife in the tomb of her an
cestors, and her death was a severe blow
upon his noble heart.
Money was potent, even in the wilder
ness, and the marquis hud the most
sumptuous residence in the country. Near
his estate, the great river made a sweep
to the westward, aud his house was built
upon a small tributary stream, which ran
nearly south from its source, and at a
distance of nearly two miles from the
Mississippi.
Here he and his family lived, with such
of his domestics as were needed about
him. The house faced to the west1, being
about ten rods from the river. Next were
two buildings, one upon the north and
the other upon the south of the main
house, and each about twenty feet dis
tatat. These were for the residence of the
black slaves. Then back or all these, and
distant forty feet, were two more build
ings, one of them, twenty feet square,
was for the stable, and the other, fifty
feet sqnare, was for the general store
house of provisions for both man and
beast. In front of the main dwelling(
extended a beautiful garden almost to
the rher. Outside of all, was a stout,
barricade, completely enclosing the
grounds on which stood the buildings and
most of th garden. It was formed of
posts driven firmly Into the ground, at
the distance of a foot apart and twelve
feet high, and then these intervals were
tightly filled with other upright timbers,
firmly fastened in their places by trans
verse girths and stout wooden pins.
There were numerous loop or port-holes
through this barricade, which could be
opened or closed at pleasure.
The whole household of the marquis
consisted of fifty-two persons. There
were himself and two children, and one
nephew; eight male white servants and
five female whites! twenty-five black
males, and ten females of the same dusky
hue. And now, considering that St.
Julien had arms and ammunition In
plenty, we may suppose that he had lit
tle to feur from the red neighbors who
prowled about his premises. And yet h
had one protection that ought to have
been more powerful than all else, and
that was the perfect honor and genuine
kinduess with which he treated all the
In.li.ins with whom he came in coutact.
Late one afternoon, the marquis went
out into one of his fields that lay npon
the rich bottom of the Walnut River.
arquis St. Julico was a tall nan,
with a slight tee Irncy to stoop in his
gait, though this was more the result of
habtt of deep thought which he had J
contracted than of any physical cause. J
ills nair was gray a aara, gruuue-uau
gray, and he woee it long over his shoul
ders, whither it depended in loosely flow
ing curls. His features were very regu
lar and handsome, but pale and thought
ful. His dress was mostly of black vel
vet, and its few ornaments of jet. He
was, In truth, a uohle-looking man, and
Just snch an one as the common class
would love to obey and Instinctively re
spect Hence his servants were fondly
attached to him, and his slaves loved
him.
He had nearly gained the southern
edge of the copse, when he was startled
from hW reverie by hearing a crashing
sound among the dry sticks near him. He
stopped quickly, and on the instant his
pistol was in his hand. He had time to
see a dark object glide from the path In
front of him towards the river, and he
immediately resolved that this was some
thing which wished to escape him. An
other thing, also, occurred to his mind,
nnd that was that no man could escape
by the way the mystic object had taken;
for not over six feet from the path in
that section was a deep, wide ditch,
which he had caused to be dug for the
purpose of draining a piece of wet land
beyond the hickory wood.
The marquis stopped, and as'he did so,
a tall, powerful man stepped back In the
path. It was an Indian, who stood near
ly a head taller than St. Julien, and
whose form was straight aud muscular.
"How?" uttered the marquis, stepping
back and lowering the muzzle of his pis
tol; "what does the Stung Serpent here?"
"He is only in the path which his white
brother has made through the forest,"
returned the red man, atunding proudly
erect. .
"But wherefore art thou in bis path?"
"The Stung Serpent is on his way to
his people.'
"And are there none of thy people with
thee? Does the Stung Serpent he who
stands second among the Suns of Nat
chezwander alone so far from home?"
"Yes, for he is not afraid. He knows
the white chief is bis friend, and where
fore should he fear?"
"But why did you come here?" asked
the marquis, coming more directly to the
point.
"I came to guide some traders on their
way to the town of the great white chief,
and my boat Is left above where the
great river turns toward the setting
sun?' answered tUe Indian.
"Then let my red brother return with
me to my home, and there rest for the
night."
But the Indian would not accept the
invitation. He professed to be in haste,
and in a few moments more, he turned
on his way, and was soon out of sight.
As the marquis turned once more home
ward, he pondered upon this thing. He
knew the Stuug Serpent well. He was.
the only brother of the Great Sun, or
chief, of the Natchez, and was the most
noted warrior of the whole tribe. Thus
far, in all their Intercourse, St. Julien
had found him upright and honorable,
but he well knew how treacherous the
Natchez could be, and how the crime of
one white man against them could be vis
ited upon the heads of all with whom
they might come In contact. That Stung
Serpent should have come fifty miles
from his village to guide a few traders
did not seem probable, and yet the mar
quis was at a loss for any other cause
of the visit. At all events, he resolved
to be prepared for dnager; so when he
reached his dwelling, he called his peo
ple together, and having Informed them
of what he bad seen, he bade them be on
their guard.
After having done this, he was about
to turn towards the house, when one of
his blacks, a huge Gulneaman of Ashante,
named Tony, came up to him and spoke.
"Look heah, ma'r, I seed dat ar Injun
when he went down, an' he did hab two
white men with 'lm. But he's been a
lookin' all 'bout heah dls long .while. Dis
arternoon I seed him on de hill ober heah
by de cattle, an' he was a lookin' sharp
all round. S'pose he wants some of your
fat oxen, eh, mas'r?"
"When did be go down, Tony?"
"Arly dis mornin'."
"And when did you see him first on his
return?"
"Jus' 'bout an hour arter noon."
"Then see that the dogs are confined
among the cattle. The red scamps may
mean mischief."
And with this, the marquis turned and
went into the house. He did not wish to
lose any of his cattle, though he would
readly have given bountifully of them
to those In absolute need.
Ah, St. Julien, watch thy cattle, but
the red man wants them not His quest
is nearer thy beartl
' CHAPTER II.
We have remarked that the Marquis
St. Julien had two children. They were
twins, and were a boy and a girl. Louis
St. Julien had seen seventeen years of
life, and he had much of his father's look,
save that his frame never promised such
height. Those who knew Louis best,
knew how noble he was at heart, and
how fearless be was of danger. In the
hour of the deepest peril, he carried a
steady hand and a cool head, and if he
was more than usually moved, it was for
some loved friend who might share the
danger with him. His hair, which was
of a dark golden hue, hung loosely over
his shoulders, curling, as did has father's,
and his eyes were large and bright, and
of a deep-blue color.
The aister was called Louise. Not only
was she of the same age, but in every re
spect of feature did she res.mble her
brother. She may have been a little
smaller, but the difference was not read
ily noticed. She had the same regularity
of feature, the same deep golden hair,
the same brilliant blue eye, the same
fair, open brow, and the same nobleness
of expression. She was a beautiful girl,
and as she and her brother wandered
about together, many and many were the
untutored red men who had dwelt with a
sort of religious awe upon the fair pic
ture. We have also said that the marquis
had a nephew living with him. This was
Simon Robots, the son of St. Julien'a
sister. He was near five-and-thirty years
of age, rather below the medium stature
of man, and not very perfect In physical
form. His shoulders were heavy, almost
to humpiness, and his head was thrown
forward instead of standing erect His
arms were very long, and his legs rather
short and crooked. Uls hair was black
and crisp, and his eyes also black and
small; his face was very regular In fea
ture, and might have been called hand
some but for the tendency of the brow to
premature wrinkles, the strange sharp
ness of the small black eyes, aad the un
couth crispiness of the hair. He had
been left an orphan at the age of twenty,
and had soon squandered what little pat
rimony was left him. After this, he had
sought hivuncle, who kindly gave him
home. Simon was an excellent account
ant, so when the marquis resolved to
come to America, be took his nephew
with him, to help superintend the busi
ness, and also to act as tutor for his two
children, for Simon was a good scholar.
It was on the second evening after the
marquis had net the Stnng Serpent In
the wood that the family were sitting In
one of the rooms which looked out upon
the garden. It was towards 8 o'clock,
but there were no lamps lighted, for the
moon was op, bright tnd fall, In the west,
and her soft beams were poured Into the
sitting room In a gentle flood, which suf
ficed for all purposes of conversation.
Thus the family sat, when one of the ser
vants eutered and announced that a
stranger had arrived and asked for shel
ter and food. St Julien's answer waa
quickly spoken:
"Give him food, and then conduct him
hither."
In the meantime, lights were brought,
and when the newcomer entered, the win
dows had been closed aud the room was
now brilliantly lighted. He was a tall,
nobly formed man, not over five-and-twenty,
with a profusion of nut-brown
ringlets clustering about his high, full
brow, and a sweet smile of grutituda
lighting up his handsome face.
"Ha! a white man?" uttered the mar
quis, starting up. "Welcome, sir thilee
welcome! My mind has so run npon
these red dogs, for the past four-and-twenty
hours, that I expected to have
seen one of them now. And a country
man?" "Yes, sir," spoke the stranger, In
voice peculiarly soft and pleasant.
"France is my native land."
"Then welcome again," resumed the
host, shaking the stranger once more by
the hand, and then conducting him to a
seat.
Tho conversation turned upon the nat
ural topics of the times, but Simon Lobois
did not join In It. He had made onu or
two remarks at the commencement; but,
suddenly, he seemed moved by the stran
ger's appearance, nnd now was engaged
in scanning his countenance. At length,
he seemed to have arrived at a solution
of the mystery, and a dark cloud gathered
over his features. .
Meanwhile the conversation went on,
and both Louis and Louise seemed try
ing to recall some memory of the past
"How far up are yon going?" asked
the marquis, at length.
"At present," feturned the stranger, "I
had only thought of seeking the dwelling
of the Marquis Brion St. Julien."
"Ah!" uttered the host, elevating his
eyebrows. "Did you ever know Ime In
France?"
"Very well."
"But-really "
The marquis was here Interrupted by
Louis, who at that moment sprang from
his chair.
"Aha!" the youth cried, "I know-you
now!"
"Do you?" said the visitor, arising and
grasping Louis by the hand.
"Yes yes; Goupart St. Denis!"
"St. Denis?" uttered the old man, start
ing quickly from his chair and hastening
forward.
"Goupart!" cried Louise, also springing
forward. "Goupart Goupart!" she re
peated. "O, it Is It is! Dear, good
Goupart!"
And as these words fell from her Hps,
she bounded forward and caught the
young man by the hand. Ills eye burned
with a strange light as he met her glad,
joyous look, and his voice was marked
by a perceptive tremulousness as he said:
"Yes, Louise It is your old friend
Goupart."
"Goupart St Denis!" muttered the
dark-browed nephew, to himself, as he
cast a look of unmistakable hatred to
wards the newcomer.
(To be continued.)
KNEW PRECISELY WHAT TO DO.
TIcketi Told the Whole Story to Her
la One Glance.
The sharp-nosed man looked dubious
ly, after the retreating figure of the
stenographer. "I am in a quandary
what to do with that girl," he said. "I
don't know whether to fire her or raise
her salary. I don't know what to make
of her. She Is the quintessence of either
innocence or deceit. I can't figure
which." About two months ago some
misguided member of,a certain benevo
lent society sent me two tickets for a
charity ball to be given at a well-known
hnll in Harlem. I was surprised to get
hhese tickets, for I supposed that ev
erybody who knew nie knew my senti
ments in regard to charity.
"I don't believe in it. I don't believe
In giving things away. I have to work
for every cent I have, and I expect
other people to do the same thing. To
my mind, these folks that dance for
charity and sing for charity and cut all
sorts of didoes for benevolent purposes
are only degrading the masses they are
supposed to benefit. I hnd expressed
this opinion so often that I was amazed
thnt anylxKly should ask me to coun
tenance a benevolent scheme by buying
a ticket for a ball. Naturally, I put
them Into an envelope and handed
them to the stenographer.
"Here, Miss Drew,' I said. 'You
know what to do with these.
"'Yes, sir,' she Raid. Thank jon.
"It struck me then that there was no
occasion for her to thank me for re
questing her to perform her regular
routine of duties, but I didn't give the
mntter a second thought until three
weeks later when a representative of
the benevolent society called to collect
$10 for the ball tickets.
" 'But I didn't use the tickets,' I said.
'I don't believe In charity.'
" Tardon me,' he said, 'they were
used. Here are the numbers sent you
aud here are the tickets bearing the
same number which were taken in at
the door. If you didn't want them, you
ought to have returned them to us at
once, as requested in our communica
tion to yon.'
" 'But I did return tiiem,' I argued.
Then I called In the stenographer. 'MIsei
Drew," I said, 'didn't I give yon two
ball tickets some time ago to be re
turned to the benevolent society?'
" 'Why, no,' she said 'You gave me
the tickets, but you didn't say anything
about returning them. You said I knew
what to do with Uiem.
" 'And what did yon do? I asked.
" 'I went to the ball,' said she. 'I
tJiought that was what you meant
"I was furious, but I saw the benevo
lent society had tho drop on me, and I
paid thera the $10. The worst of It Is
the girl seemed so sweet and innocent
and sorry -that I haven't had the cour
age either to discharge her or deduct
the money from her salary. I can't
make up my mind to this day whether
she really thought I meant to make her
a present, or whether she notified the
society to send me tlie tickets and then
deliberately worked me for a long time.
But, whatever her motive, there Is one
charitable organization Is town that la
now growing fat off f 10 of my hard
earned money." New York Herald.
Told of M1m Wlllard.
Frances Wlllard once wrote to her
friend Mrs. Bain, of Kentucky, who
bad just lost a daughter: "Dearest
Sister Anna, how much richer are you
than I! Here I alt alone without
child to die, while you are mother to an
angel."
Candor looks with equal fairness at
both (Ides of a subject-Noah Webster.
OPINIONS OF GREAT PAPERS ON IMPORTANT SUBJECTS
The Snobs of Wsfth'ngton.
JLM RS. ROOSEVELT'S effective rebuke to a part Of
I Vl Washington's otiiclal society for snubbing one of
I 1 her guests, who hud been ft saleswoman before be
1 1 coming the wife of nn lutiuentlul government offi
cial, Is disquieting chiefly because It proves that
there are almost as many snobs in the national capital as
there are In New York, Chicago or Boston. It Is generally
conceded that the relation of the snobs to the population
varies directly with the youth and size of the city. Of
Washington we have long thought beiter things. Washing
ton is an old city and a democratic one. ' It Is at Washing
ton that there assemble the mcu who have made themselves,
whose mental superiority over their fellow-men has been
recognized by their fellow-citizens in being sent to the na
tion's capital to represent them and to shape the nation's
destinies. Most of those men have started the destiny
shaping by selling papers or splitting fence-rails. We have
rather plumed ourselves with the Idea that the prime quali
fications of Washington society were mental capacity and
a clean record.-' We have never permitted ourselves to think
that a mnn who has sufficiently won the confidence of his
community or district to be chosen a government servant
would go to Washington to suffer humiliation because his
wife had once been forced to earn an honorable living with
her own hands. To an American it is not a prettj; conceit
It might be embarrassing to those same ladles who have
seen fit to appoint themselves arbiter elegantlum If a gen
eral Investigation of social qualifications were made. The
husbands of a great ninny of these ladles have not always
been so prominent. In fact, many of those marriages were
contracted when the husbands hnd no such lofty ambi
tions, and the idea of securing a helpmate to decorate a
Washington home was not seriously considered. That Is
quite right. It Is the natural safeguard against fallacious
aristocracy. But it Is an essential consideration for those
wives of Congressmen and Senators who feel themselves
qualified to suggest etiquette and social distinctions to Mrs.
Theodore Roosevelt Detroit Journal.
How to Become Rich.
AN analysis of the large 'fortunes which on account
of death have changed hands during the year shows
hat no fewer than 200 of these estates were valued
at over 100,000 each. Among them there figure the
2,900,000 of Earl Fitzwllliam; the 2,800,000 of Mr.
Vagllano, whose great lawsuit with the Bank of England
remains one of the most famous of financial cases; and the
2,000,000 of Mr. Sutton, of the well-known firm of car
riers. A further analysis of these two hundred odd fortunes
discloses this Instructive fact that the great majority -of
thoin have been created during the life of their owners, and
created not by speculation nor by any sudden chance of
fortune, but by deliberate and unremitting hard work. It
Is clear that "Dogged does it" In the small and exclusive
world of money Just as In the ordinary world at large.
But still more Instructive Is this further fact which Is
revealed by our analysis that these men, who have worked
so hard and succeeded so signally, liave also lived a long
life. Of the great fortunes of the year amounting to some
58,000,000 tn all the average age of their owners at death
Is proved to have been seventy-three years, and no -fewer
than 25 per cent of thera had passed the age of four-score.
The moral Is obvious. By dint of sheer Industry, shrewd
ly applied, It Is not only possible fdr a man to amass great
wealth; but the activity and self-contrgl which such an aim
demands of the ablest of us react so favorably on the health
or both body and mind that they also assure the happy gift
of a long life. London Daily Mail. . -
Dd Not Ta!k Too Much.
BLUNTNESS of speech, directness of action, strict In
sistence on one's rights and disdain of diplomatic,
roundabout methods of dealing wltb men mid. af
fairs are meritorious In a way, but the shortest road
Is not always the easiest nnd a little dlplomg.-y'wil
save much trouble In untny cases;' One can be diplomatic,
too, without lying or doin anything that need worry the
strictest conscience.
The first and hardest rule of diplomacy in large affairs
and small, in public and private life, is Do not talk too
much. Some instinct In the majority of people Impels them
to tell all they know, and,' sometimes, a little more. Pit a
talker against a man that can keep his own counsel In any
affair of business or Intrigue, and It Is strause if the talker
does not get the worst of the matter. He puts his oppo
HIS TEST OF THE ARTIST.
Would-He Purchaser Made Bugges
tlons Concerning a l'alntinjr.
There is perhaps a lesson of some
sort for young artists In the story told
by Frederick Kost, the landscape and
marine painter, of the days when he
was just starting. It was at a time
when things were not prospering as
he could have wished whea. In fuct
the artist was pretty hard up that a
man wearing a great fur-lined over
coat knocked at the door of his studio.
The stranger was evidently a West
erner, and a man of wealth. -
"Mr. Kost," he said, "I have seen
pictures of yours at different, exhibi
tions, and I think I would like to own
one."
Then he nodded approvingly at ' a
landscape on the easel, and said:
"That Is exceedingly nice. But," he
added after a pause, "might I make
a suggestion?"
"Certainly," said Mr. Kost "Go
ahead." N
"Well," said the would-be purchaser,
"I think the sky might be changed
with advantage," and he started In to
explain the alteration which be
thought would Improve the painting.
Mr. Kost did not agree with hlra,
but as he wished to sell the picture
he said he would consider the matter.
And the stranger went away,,, prom
ising to call In a few days.! - .
Mr. Kost 'went .to work to change
the sky, against his own Judgment, to
suit the stranger. He ended by chang
ing the tntlre picture to'shlt the sky.
In fact, from a landscape. It" grew
into a marine. The stranger never
turned up, and the artist cursed his
folly in having acted contrary to com
mon sense to please an Ignorant- per
son, and so spoiled one of his best
efforts, the result of several months of
work.
About a year later a knock took Mr.
Kost to his door again, and there stood
the stranger In the fur-lined overcoat
Being asked In, he took a seat before
the easel and nodded approvingly at
a picture that happened to be there.
"I like that-like It very much," he
said thoughtfully. Then, after a pause;
"but may I make a suggestion?"
Mr. Kost was not so angry with the
man as annoyed at the recollection of
his own foolishness. He looked square
ly at his visitor.
Go to the devil with your sugges
tion," he replied.
"What's thatr exclaimed the stran
ger. ' "
Mr. Kost repeated his Invitation.
For a wouient the other colored. Then
The Span of Life.
IT seems that we were all wrong about the hurtful and
life-shortening effect of American "hustle." Our na
tional motto may be said to have been "A short life, but
a strenuous one." We were willing, as a people, to have
the span shortened a little If only we could have some
thing worth while, something active and effective, going on
all the tline. But It seems, according to the latest bulletin
of the Census Bureau, that the fast life Is also the long
one. Our "median age" that Is, the age which is such that
half the population Is under It and half over it is more
than seven years greater than It was a century ago, and
Increases from decade to decade. We are surpassing easy
going foreigncountrles In this respect; we are surpassing
even the loose-jointed, indolent, beautifully relaxed, never
worrying African In our midst; for whereas the median age
of our American whites is 23.4 years, that of the devil-may-care
colored person Is but 18.3. Lately much confu
sion has arisen In the minds of many Americans over the
statement that by certain eminent neurologists that It Is
next to Impossible for a man to "overwork," provided his
bodily functions are kept in good order by temperate and
wholesome living. Other physicians, to be sure, tell us
that hurry and worry spell death. We had accepted the
latter judgment, with the qualifying reflection that no mat
ter what science tells us, It always seems to have "an
other think coming.". This census bulletin which links the
long life with the fast one appears to be the other "think."
Harper's Weekly.
High Prices.
IT is significant that In some quarters there are begin
ning to be arguments made to show that high prices,
being a sign of public prosperity, are good for the peo
ple. If this remark were so amended as to read that
high prices are good for some of the people. It would be
correct. They are undoubtedly good for a considerable por
tion of the people. Included in those are the people In
active business who find themselves selling goods on a ris
ing market, a rising market generally Implying abundant
sales and orders for goods to be made. Rich people who
own property also find it Increased In value. There are
others, however, who are less fortunate.' They are the men
and women of fixed Incomes, who are compelled to pay
Increased prices for what they purchase without addition
to their money resources for purchasing. There is a much
.larger class in those whose fixed Income comes from their
labor. These are worse off, as they find the cost of what
they eat and consume in the other necessaries of life as
beef and coal and milk and butter, for instance Increased
without a corresponding addition to their wages. There
can be no equable Increase in prices unless the prices paid
for labor are a part of it Boston Herald.
he smiled quietly. "Well, Mr. Kost,"
he replied, "I may take that trip some
day; but not just yet. In the mean
time, I think I will buy that picture
of yours."
After a pause he continued. "1
would have bought the painting you
showed me last year, Mr. Kost, but
when. I buy a picture I want It to be
one with which the artist Is perfectly
satisfied, which he considers a sample
of his best work. When you consent
ed to change the other picture, I con
eluded that you were not sure of It
yourself. But I guess If you think
enough of this- one, to ask a man to
go to the devil because he wished tc
make a suggestion concerning It, It Is
the stnff I want." ,
And. the picture was sold according
ly. New York Tribune.
WALKING THROUGH FIRE,
Lava Streams' la the Crater of Kilanea
in Hawaii.
Compared with the volcanoes In the
Hawaiian Islands, those lu the West
Indies are larger, and exhibit the phe
nomena of nature on a grander' scale.
The cone of Kllauea, In Hawaii, holds
a- lake of me!ted rock, the outlets of
which" are rivers of lava which gleam
like molten silver. In "Fire Mountains"
Miss C. F. Gordon-Cummlng describes
her descent into the outer crater.
'.We took a circuitous route to avoid
the fiery breath of the sulphur cracks.
Some of the cones are dome-shaped;
others are more open, like witches' cal
drons, and curiosity compelled me to
snatch a glimpse of the fiery broth
wlthm' although I knew that such
stolen peeps were dangerous, as at any
moment the wrathful spirits tight
drive away the Intruder with a shower
of molten rock.
So numerous were the streams which
Intersected the bed of the crater on
this side that it was necessary for the
guide to keep ceaseless watch to guard
against the possibility of our retreat
being cut off.
We took our stand on an elevated
hummock of lava, aad were thus raised
to the level of the lake, which had very
capriciously selected the highest por
tion of the crater, so that all the rivers
flowed down over the steep bank.
Dr. Coan told me he had seen lava
flowing at the rate of forty miles an
hour, rushing downhill through forests
on Its seaward way. . I confess I watch
ed this small, comparatively safe river
with some trepidation.
So rapidly does lava cool that when
we bad gained sufficient confidence to
follo"w our experienced guide, wt were
nent In possession of all he knows and gets nothing In ex
change. The talker proceeds In the dark while the silent
man finds his way made clear. The talker Is forever mak
ing trouble for himself and others. He cannot keep a secret
and he seldom can tell the exact truth.
But the habit of keeping one's counsel la sometimes
carried to ridiculous extremes. There are men so reticent
that they will not tell anything at all and will give an
evasive reply if one asks them the time of day. Men of
this class think themselves sly, whereas In reality they aire
mere fools. There Is a time to speak as well as a time to
hold one's peace. San Francisco Bulletin.
' Courtesy in Business.
COURTESY In business baa been called the "oil on
the wheels of worldly progress" and "an air cushion
with apparently nothing In It, that yet eases the
heavy jolts of trade." But It Is more than these. It
Is a positive virtue the most democratic of all vir
tuesIn that It recognizes all individualities and pays all
just claims. By 'Its consummate conslderateness It In
fringes upon no one's rights and lessens no one's advan
tage. '
It Is often a form of self-suppression In action as well as
an expression of universal and Individual sympathy. It
loosens the burdens of life, soothes anger, and often coun
teracts and does away with misunderstandings. Courtesy
Is the outward expression of the most essential sentiments
of the Inner, truer man. When these outward expressions
cease the Inner sentiments themselves are weakened and
lose their delicacy and energy, and so we may say that the'
foundations of courtesy are based upon the universal needs
of humanity Itself. New York Dally News.
ible to walk across many of the
streams which only a few hours before
iiad been liquid fire. We were walking
an a cool crust. As the streams of red
duld rock met the air they seemed to
become coated over with a thin, gleam
ng. silvery film, like that which forms
n molten metal. It was gruesome to
hlnk what would befall us if the thin
rust gave way beneath us. But I re
flected that for love of wife and child
ur guide doubtless counted his own
life precious, and so would not lead us
into real danger.
It Is strange how quickly one gets
accustomed to new circumstances.
When luncheon time came It seemed
must natural to sit on the brink of a
(Ire river, on a hummock of lava, and
enjoy our sandwiches while we watch
ed the heaving, rushing lava roll and
break Into half-cooled cakes, to be swal
lowed and melted afresh In the fire
stream which flowed within ten feet
of us.
Just OirL
Many a throne has had to fall
For a girl,
Just a gtrl;
Many a king has had to crawl
For a girl.
Just a girl.
When the hero goes to war '
He may battle for the right.
But 'tis likelier by far
That he sallies forthlo fight
For a girl,
Just a gtrl.
When the doctor turns to sayi
"It's a girl,
Just a girl," 1
Taps murmurs with dismay:
"What! A girl.
Just a girl?"
Ah, bnt why the sadness there?
Why the bitterness displayed?
Some day some strong man will swear
That the great round world waa mad
For that girl.
Just that girt
Why did Adam tak the bit?
For a girl,
' Just a girl-.
Why was Troy swept out of slghtl
For a girl.
Just a girL
O would heaven still be bright.
And would any good man ear
To achieve It. if he might
Never claim forever there.
Just a girl.
Glorious rlrll
Chicago Record-Herald.
We beard a long time ago that the
devil Invented the fiddle, but we beard
to-day that be also Invented the pump.
Ton can Interest any man by saying
to him, "You work too hard. .
GEO. P. CROVELL,
iiiepenr to K. L. Smith,
,l,tlillilid House in lit llrl
DEALER I.N
Dry Goods, Groceries,
Boots and Shoes,
Hardware,
Flour and Feed, etc.
This old-established honse wi'.l con
tinue to pay cash for all its goods; it
peys no rent; it employs a clerk, but
does not have to divide with a partner.
All dividends are made with customers
In the way of reasonable prices.
Lumber
Wood,
Posts, Etc.
Davenport Bros.
Lumber Co.
Have opened an office in Hood River.
Cull and get prices and leave orders,
which will be promptly filled.
Regulator Line
STEAMERS
Regulator and Dalles City
Between The Dalles and Portland
. Daily Except Sunday.
Leave Dalles 7 A. M.
Arrive Portland 4 P. M.
Leave Portland 7 A. M.
Arrive Dalles 6 P. M.
Leave Hood River (down) at 8 :30 A. M.
Arrive Hood River (up) at 8:30 P.M.
A. T. ZIMMERMAN,
General Agent.
7liite Collar Line
Portland -Astoria Route
Str. "BAILEY GATZERT."
Daily round trips except Sunday.
TIUK CARD.
Leaves Portland ..7:00 A. M
Learn Astoria .. .7:00 P. M
Through Portland connection with Steamer
Nahcotta from llwaco and Long Beach points.
White Collar Line tickets interchangeable
'With o. K. di N. Co. and V. T. Co. tickets.
The Dalles-Portland Route
STEAMERS
"TAHOMA" and- "METLAKO"
Daily trips except Sunday.
Str. "TAHOMA."
Leaves Portland, Mon., Wed., Fri 7:00 A. H
Leaves The Dalles, Tuea., Thurs. 8L,7:U0 A. M
Str. "METLAKO.'
Leaves Portland, Tues., Thu., Sat 7:00 A. M.
Leaven The Dalles Man., Wed., Fri 7:UU A. M.
Landing and oHIce: Foot Alder Street. Both
phones Main S6L Portland, Oregou.
AGENTS.
J. W. CRICT1TON Ths Dalles, Ore.
A. K. K1!LLKK Hood Klver, Ore.
WOLFOKD 4 WJr'ERU. ...White Salmon, Wash.
1IKSRY OLMSTEAU Carson, Wash.
JOHN T. TOTTKN Stevenson, W ash.
1, C. WYATT Vancouver, Wash.
A. J, TAYLOR Astoria, Ore.
E. W. CRICHTON,
Portland, Oregon
Oregon
SnorT Line
and union Pacific
IIP
n.P.T TIME WHEDULH ...,.
PlPA" Peruana, Or. AaaiTS
Chicago Salt Lake, Denver, 4 :80 p.m.
Portland Ft. Worth, Omaha,
Special Kansas City, St.
(:20 a. m. Louis.Chlcagoand
via LaL
Huntington.
At'antio Walla Walla UwT. 10:30 a.m.
Kiprqs ton, Spokane. Mln
;15 p.m. iieapnllt.St. Paul,
via Diiluth. Milwau-
Huntington. kee,Chicago,fciast
St. Paul 'salt Lake, Denver, 7:S5a. m.
Fan Mail Ft. Worth. Omaha,
;90 p. m. Kansas city, St.
via Lonis,Caii'agoand
Gpokan. fcaal.
OCEAN AND RIVER SCHEDULE
KOaf rOKTLANU.
1:00 p.m. All sailing dates 6:00 p. as,
subject to change
For San Francisco
bail .very . days
Dnllr C.lvmkla Rlr S op. m.
Ex.NiiiuUjr itsaaisrs. Ex. Suudar
S.uio.m.
taturdar To Astoria and W ar
Ui.W p. u. Landings.
t:6a.Bi WHIaaMH. Mr. About
Mon., Wed. W ater ppnnitting. S uupm.
aud FrL Oregon Clijr, Stw Tues, Thu,
berg. Salem, Imte- bat.
feiidence, Corval
lisand Hag laud-
logs-
7:00 a.m. Wlltoiaette sS Taav ISO p.m.
Toes-, Tbur. kill Sims. Mon., Wed,
and Sat. Water permuting. aad Frb
Or en on cnj, ,,.
Ion , A W ay Laud
tugs. Lv. Rtparta Saake Slew. LT.Le(.toj
:". m. I 8;ua.m.
Daily eaeept P. I par la to Lesrlitoo Dallr eipl
fcaturday j fu.
A. L. CRAIO,
General Pajswnger Agent, Portland, Of
A. M. HOIR,nst, Hood Blt.r.