I
pa i
Iff II Is is Mr
;WV. aw M IB
A Jala Df tha Early Settlers!
cl Louisiana.
I BY AUSTIN C. BURDICK
CHAPTER XIII.
Several timet had Louise suggested to
Loppa the idea of her looking out about
the town, but she had been informed that
It would Dot be safe. The old negress
was firm and uncompromising, but yet
kind and considerate as far as her care
of her charge's welfare was concerned.
Louise had made some examination of the
house in which Bhe wag confined, and she
was satisfied that ghr"coiiId not escape
from it without much .labor and trouble.
It was on the fifth day of her sojourn
there that she was aroused from a fit of
deep thought by the entrance-of Simon
Lobois. . He came in with a warm smile
upon his face, and after some remarks
upon Louise's Improved looks, he took a
seat by her tide. She did not shrink
from him, ngr did she seem afraid of
him, but with a keen gaze she fixed her
deep blue eyes upon him.
' "Sweet cousin," he said, in a tone of
extreme softness, "why was it ordered
that I should be he oue to save you
from the jaws of death? Why was I
inirlpil nut?"
llwj9'ief4iRf-((k Of
'H..." g7T-.invir "J " '
11 Others, were in duty bound to gave
me," reylied Louise. ...
"Ila! how so?" the cousin asked, with
a slight start, but quickly recovering hiui
gelf. "Why, because to yon my father gave
me in charge. Because you have received
I handsome salary for taking care of
me."
"I should say that you had shown an
early disposition to throw oil the yoke of
my authority.
"Ah, how so?"
"Your own sense will tell you how,
Bimon responded, somewhat bitterly.
"O, I meant no play upon the past, my
cousin. But then you are my near rela
tive, you know and hence you ought to
gave m!." '
"And this is the gratitude you feel for
the service I have done you."
"Sow, Simon, you did not ask me how
I felt. You only asked me why it wag
you were singled out to save me. Most
truly, for all of good you have ever done
me do I feel most duly grateful. Tor all
your acta of kindness to me, you have
my deep acknowledgment."
Lobois seemed for the moment non
plussed by the oft-hand manner in which
he" was thus far met, but his forces were
goon in order again, and he renewed the
attack.
"Louise, you remember the eoaverg '.tion
we once had in the gtudy?"
"Perfectly, Simon. And you remem
ber the answers I gave?" replied the
girl.
"Yea I do remember them; I have re
membered them ever since. And now let
me assure you that I look upon this
gtrange event as an opportunity granted
by heaven itself for me to ask those
questions over again."
"Simon Lobois! Are you In earnest?"
"I am. A love such as mine cannot
be cramped by the result of one inter
view. It has been cherished too long,
and has become too deeply rooted. From
one less loved I might have turned away
under such a rebuff, but not from you.
No, no, Louise; I have come now to ask
that one question again. Uemember now
the debt you owe me; remember the dou
ble claim I now have."
"Double claim. Simon?"
"Ay a double claim. First, the claim
resulting from the care I have held for
you since early childhood; and, second,
this last claim founded in the very av
ing of your life."
"It was curious that you should have
been the one to save me wasn't it?"
gflid Louise, looking iuto her companion'g
face with an expression he could not ana
lyze, though he tried hard to do so.
"It was," he replied.
"And that you Bhould have landed Just
In that place, too?" pursued Louise, with
out removing her close gaze from her
dark cousin's face. "And how strange
that they should have camped dire, tiy
by the boat landing, where the whites
would be sure to come if they crossed
the lake wasn't It? especially when we
consider what a repute they have for
shrewdness and cunning?"
Simon Lobois winced at this, and a
perceptible tremor ran through his
frame. But he recovered himself with
an effort. In a few moments.
"It Is strange," he said, "and I have
'often said go since. But I can see in it
only the opportunity of pressing my
claim to your heart and hand now with
more hopes of success. I must ask you
now if you will accept the heart aud
hand I offer you?"
"Simon Lobois, you know I cannot do
It," uttered Louise, in a firm, frank tone.
"Beware, Louise! I ask you kindly
now. I confess my love and I beg of
yon to accept it.
"A husband's love from you I never
can accept, Simon.
"Think carefully ere yon speak."
"But what mean you? I have thought
carefully, and have equally as candidly
told you that yours I can never be. Now,
what more can you ask?" .
"I shall ask but little more," returned
Simon, through his set teeth. "I am now
In a position to command."
"Speak plainly, monsieur."
."Then, plainly you must be my wife!"
"But I shall simply apply to the Gov
rnor." "That will help you none, for Perier
Is my friend, and has pledged me his as
sistanee."
"But he will listen to the prayer of a
ielpless Kirl."
"Not when that prayer Is prejudicial
to the Interest of big friend. lie is anx
ious that all the marriageable females
should be married ss soon as possible. In
short, my dear cousin, be hag pledged
me his word as a man, and as an officer,
that you shall be my wife. Now what
ay you?"
"I should certainly say that he was
great scoundrel, returned Louise, re
garding her companion with a fixed look,
"lou are cool, mademoiselle?
"Because I do not believe that you can
be In earnest, monsieur."
"I am in earnest, Louise! and, more
over, yon go not from this place until
you are my wife! Do yon understand
that?"
"If if I thought yoo conld mean it,
Simon. I should begin to be alarmed,"
said the maiden, in tone that would
seem to Indicate that she did not really
credit the statement she had heard.
"I do mean it!" he replied, slowly and
meaningly.
"Simon Lobois, look me in the eye, nd
ssnre me solemnly that yon mean what
you have said." Louise spoke this la an
earnest, eager tone, with her hands clasp
ed and half raised towsrds her dark
cousin, snd her lips firmly compressed.
It was some moments before Lobois
replied. There was something 1 the
Hill
no iiaiiu
deep bine eye that was fixed so earnestly
upon him, and in the calm, earnest fea
tures that met his gjzc, that moved him
more than he had counted upon. But then
he was not the man to break down now.
He was not the man to give up the frui
tion of a hope that he had cherished with
his very life for years. He was playing
for a gulden stake of immense value, and
how that he held the leading hand, he
meant to use it promptly, and without
compromise ol any kind.
"Louise St. Julien," he at length re
plied, "I, mean just what I have said.
You go not from this house nntil you are
my wife! From this purpose I will not
swerve."
A quick flush passed over the girl's
face, and her lip quivered. A momept
the thought of spurning the wretch was
present with her, but the thought, most
probably, of her defenseless position kept
her tongue under guard.
"Simon," she murmured, after a while
of silence, "you Will not be so cruel?" v
"And is it cruel to want a beautiful
girl, whom one loves, for a wife?"
"But what can you want with a wife
who can never love you in return?" ,
"I'll teach you to love me."
"As well might you teach me to love
the great crocodile I saw the soldiers
playing with in the street this morning.'
"Then I'll teach you to fear nie!"
"You've done that already, monsieur."
"So much the better then; you'll mind
me the quicker."
"But why why should you do this
thing V"
"I'll tell you," spoke Simon, turning
with sudden emphasis upon the ' girl.
"There is no need that I should pretend
to deceive you, nor could I, probably, if
I tried. For many years I .have, bad
the charge ot JSur father's books anl
"business. You know he is wealthy more
wealthy than any other ten men in the
colony. When he came here into this joy
forsaken wilderness, I came with hiin to
help him. The thought came to me, as 1
beheld your mind expanding under my
care, that at some future, day I might
possess your peart and band, and tiius
the half of your father's fortune would
be miue. So I strove to make you all I
could, and the property I multiplied as
fust as possible. The wealth has grown
In bulk under my care, and now I am not
ready to give all up. I am not willing to
nee the hopes of a lifetime blasted just
from the mere whim of a capricious girl."
"But do you think my father will allow
his property to fall into your hands when
he knows that I married you from abso
lute compulsion?" asked the fair girl,
earnestly. , .'',.' ; '
"He cannot well help It. He cannot
cut me oft without cutting you off, too."
But be will demaud a dissolution of
the union tietween us."
Ha! he cannot gain it If he does. I
am prepared there, and I know the
ground on which I stand. The king has
empowered the company to frame domes
tic regulations to meet the wants of the
colony, and they have already passed a
resolution that every sane, gound girl, of
geventeen years or upwards, shall marry,
if proposal is made from a respectable
source."
Ay but the payment of a hundred
livres can remove the obligation."
"So it can. But no power can annul
the marriage tie."
"Then mark me, Simon Lobois! I will
bid my father that he let me live in pen
ury and want, for, as your wife, my sor
row will have reached its climax; so you
shafl not thus gain the gold you covet."
"And mark me. Louise St. Julien!
While your father withholds the half of
his fortune from you, I will reduce yon
to such suffering as shall force me to bind
von to prevent you from taking your own
life to end your tortures!"
A few moments of silence ensued, and
then Simon said, in a softer tone:
But let us drop this profitless talk.
You will consider of this, aud I know you
will calmly settle down into a state of
reasonable acquiescence. Now give me
direct answer. Will you become toy
wife without any further act of compul
sion?"
"I should judge you had heard enough
to know my mind.
"But I would know if I must compel
you. Mina, nowi fliy resolution is nxea.
1 have counted the cost, and am resolved
upon the throw. When we return, you
may tell your father, if you please, that
I compelled you to become my wife, but
I shall not care. He cannot take you
from me after the church has bouud you
to me, and If he geeks otherwise to harm
me, he will only heap suffering upon the
head of his own child. Your father gave
nie permission to seek your hand.
"I do not believe it, Simon."
"I care not for your belief. That he
told me so is true, and now I have sought
you. Will you be my wife?"
"Neverl" .
"We shall see."
And with this, the wretch strode from
the apartment.
CHAPTEH XIV.
It was nearly dark when Simon Lobois
left his captive, and the poor girl waited
in vain for the coming of her gupper,
Some time during the night she was
startled from an uneasy, dreamy slumber
by hearing a heavy tread in her room,
Then she looked around and found two
stout, dark-faced men by her side.
"Come," uttered one of them; "we are
in a hurry." ' '
In a gasping voice, Louise asked what
was wanted. t
"Never mind only get ready to follow
us as soon as possible. We'I find bet
ter quarters than this for ye."
"But " v
"O come!"
Louise asked no more questions, but
quickly putting on her scarf and draw-
ing It over her head, she announced her
readiness to accompany them. One of
them took her by the arm, while the oth
er, who held the lantern, went on in ad
vance. They descenJed the stairs to the
street, and having passed the distance of
two squares, they stopped in front of a
gloomy looking building, with one small
door on the street, but no window. This
door was opened, and the girl led In.
Straight on she went through long,
narrow passage, a distance of over a hun
dred feet, and then she was stopped be
fore door not more than two feet wide,
formed of three pieces of solid hewn tira
her bolted together with Iron, This was
opened, and Louise was pushed In, and
the door closed upon her. She listened
until she could hear the soutfd of her con
ductors' footsteps no more, and then she
searched" around for gome place in whih
to lie down, or, at least, upon which he
could sit down. At length she found a
low pallet with gome bedding upon it,
and on this she rested.
She slept some, for she wss as'.onished
when she opened her eyes and found
stream of sunlight struggling into the
place. She looked np and found that
there was small aperture near the top
of the wall, about foot square, but
she could not look out from it. The
room was small, with walls of hewn tim
ber, and evidently built for prison.
Louise knew how easily money could hire
official assistance in the colony, and hence
she wondered not that Lobois had been
able to obtain the use ot this place.
The forenoon passed slowly away, and
noon came. Hunger and thirst began to
afflict the helpless prisoner, and the hands
were oftener clasped in silent supplica
tion. At length, towards the middle ot
the afternoon, the door of the ced was
opened and Simon Lobois entered.
"Simon;"' ottered- the prisoner,, '.'what
means this?"
"Can you not guess?" was his calm
reply. - '
"Do you mean this as t means ot forc
ing me to marriage?" ; ; .
"You've hit it." '
Louise sank down opon the pallet and
clasped her hands.
"I cannot stand this," ahe said.
"Then become my wife."- '
"Is that the only alternative f
"It is."
"And in no other way can I get cleat
of this place?"
"In no other."
"Bring me water."
"Will you be mine?"
. "I will allow the marriage to be sol
emnized.' ' .
"And you will go before the priest and
be legally married to me?"
"I will!" ' 1 ' ,'
Simon Lobois' started with demoniac,
selfish joy. , ' - . .
"You shall have food and water now!"
he cried. "And you shall have a faith
ful, loving husband. O, Louise, you
"Rut I am famishing now, Simon.
, Away flew the man, and in a short time
ia returned with some cold milk and
"Vmi take it more calmly that! I had
o-rnncted. Louise." Simon said, as he
ei7.oA Innuiriuelv into her calm, pale face.
"If I am calm, monsieur, It is not be
cause I am happy. I find myself in yoiir
power, and I have assured myself mat
I am powerless to escape you. I have
reflected and pondered deeply upon this,
and now that my mind is made tip, I
am not tue wonmu, ui i"" "
myself uselessly miserable. But, mon
sieur, you do not see my heart; you do.
not see the utter wreck you have made
there. A deep, dark sorrow, sucn as ine
soul utterly crushed, and the heart all
broken, can only know, is mine. If you
can be happy in knowing the work you
have thus wronght, I shall not envy you.
I can look wth hope to tne lire- or tne
emancipated spirit; you - know best
whether you can do the game." - '
There was a deep, touching : pa tnos in
this speech that moved the nara-nennea
man more than he dared acknowledge,
even to himself, and he tried to banish
the emotion.
Pooh! he uttered. "There is no neea
of your speaking bo, fer you shall be as
happy as a princess. I will always love
you always be faithful."
A look of Utter contempt stoie over me
fair girl's face as she 'gaied Into the evil
features of the bad man, for she knew
how hollow ail hir pretensions were; and
she knew now, too, what wicked means
he had used to bring her within his pow
er. ' s "" "
(To be continued.)
BUTTON OR BUTTON HOLE?
A Question' Similar to that of Prece
dence or Hen or r.gg.
Once upon a time a case was brought
before a learned Judge, In which the
question at Issue was as to whether tue
button wag made for the buttonhole or
the buttonhole for the button.
Counsel for the button held that It
was so plain as to render argument su
perfluous that the buttonhole was made
for the use and behoof of the button;
still, for form's sake, be, would give a
few reasons why his contention was
the correct one. It was apparent, tie
said, that without the buttonhole the
button would be unable to perform its
function, and bence It was plain that
the button preceded the ; buttonhole,
and that the latter was Invented In
order that the button might be of ser
vice to mankind. It should be clear to
everybody that had It not been for the
button the buttonhole never would
have been thought of. Its existence
necessarily presupposed the existence
of the button.
The lawyer for the other side was
equally positive In the stand he had
been employed take, ne averred that
the buttonhole preceded the Tmtton;
that, In fact, the button was merely
an afterthought. He said that, as
every one knew, the buttonhole can be
employed without the button, as wit
ness Farmer Jones, who invariably
uses a nail or sliver of wood Instead ot
the conventional button, whereas It
was impossible to make an effective
use of the button without the aid and
assistance of Ithe buttonhole. Hence
It was shown beyond peradventure
that the buttonhole was of greater-rra
portance than the button, aud It was
natural to infer that the buttonhole
was first Invented aud that the button
came later, simply as an ornament, or,
at best, as an improvement upon the
nail, sliver, or other instrumentality
wherewith the buttonhole walmade to
perform Its duty. To show the. rela-
tlve value of the buttonhole and tbe
button, he said," take this simple ex-
ample: When a button comes off the
buttonhole can still be made service-
able, but If the buttonhole Is slit open
the button Is of no use whatever. W Ith
lUlS I Lie IVii i llv. U iuuurli avrovu uio v uoU
although he. claimed that be had' not'
exhausted the subject. t
When the court came In after recess,
the learned judge promptly decided tha
case In favor of the buttonhole clear-
lv a Just decision, although It was
- ...
whispered about the courtnouse that
thB decision mleht have beeu'dlfferent
but for the fact that while changing
his linen between adjournment and-ce-
assembling of the Court his honor had
dropped his collar button and hunted
for It without success for half an hour,
and perhaps might never have found ,
It had he not steppe! upon It But, of j
course, this suggestion came from the
partisans of the button, and may fairly
be Imputed to their disappointment and
chagrin. Boston Transcript.
London Is Improving.
Yoar by year London .becomes not
only more and more, a city of flowers, I
but also a city of doves. Around every j
building where It Is possible to keep
pigeons one sees constantly increasing '
flocks of these pretty creatures, and .
there could not be a more ornamental
and delightful addition to town popula-'
tion. In the sunlit spaces where they ;
alight and feed the .soft rush of their '
wings and the peaceful sound of their
cooing mnke the most restful contrast
to the harsh noises of the streets.
Vakins th. Point Plain.
"Why do you call your sister 'Mis
ery. Johnny?" asked Mr. Tarrier, the
little boy's big sister's beau.
" 'Cause." said Johnny, "she's your
comp'ny." .1
M.V9 er um t uuui w uai uiai
has to do with It, you know."
"Don't y'?" and the small boy grinned
all over. "What! 'Ain't y never heard
't 'Misery loves comp'ny,' eh ?" Phil
adelphia BuU'ttn.
YtJY.r'
" l- -,"'"
flilfl harvesting of Ice for a city
Mr such as Montreal" Is no mean
proposition, even In the abstract, J
but for a moment we will enter Into
figures and sea Just what It means.
There have been harvested In the
city during the present winter, soma
thing like 100,000 tons of Ice. Multiply
this by 2,000 and we arrive at a total
of 820,000,000 pounds Divide this
into the population of the city and
outlying districts, allow, for the neces
sary waste, and It is found that every
man, woman and child consumes In the
neighborhood of 600 pounds during the
year. However, a great deal of this
consumption is Indirect, as It were, for
In these figures come the restaurants,
butchers and other large consumers of
lee. The calculation is a fair one, how-
even for sooner or later the members
of the community benefit thereby.
The Ice upon which Montreal de
pends is drawn from several sources;
for instance, the Back River furnishes
some, the St.' Lawrence below St.
The saw' and bar in plat.
Mary's currant turnlshes more, while
the river opposite Nun's Island con
tributes by far the larger share. The
Ice In this latter locality Is beautifully
clear and Is now being harvested as
fast as men can cut and teams can
draw.
The process proper of procuring Ice
begins with the removal of the snow,
this being accomplished with horses
hitched to scrapers. Next comes a ma
chine termed a marker, which is a
series of teeth set at given Intervals,
The teeth axe so adjusted that they cut
at Intervals of forty Inches and again
at twenty Indies tlie width and length
of an ordinary cake. A cutter, consist
ing of a series of big teeth, set one In
' ICR HABVE8TEBS AT WORK.
front of the other, is then run over
these marks by means of horses, mak
lng the cuts some five Inches deep.
Next, the saw comes Into play. "In
the old days each cake was sawn, but
experience has proven that Ice, If prop
erly handled, can be broken very read
ily with a sharp Iron bar. thus saving a
great portion of the necessarily slower
method of sawing.
The City Ice Company's men In place
of sawing the Ice Into comparatively
small cakes content themselves with
going through It with the toothed In
strument at Intervals of sixty-four
SHEARING OUT THE STBIPS OF ICE.
feet cutting through only the short
way. This raft sixteen cakes long
and four wldo. Is then broken off the
main body by means of bars and with
sharp Ice books, set In long handles,
the men conduct It down toward the
bb.iu, vug cuu, vi uivu ic iu tuu " " v.
and the other ending In a long plat-
form, set at a convenient height to load
the sleighs without any lifting to spealt
of. -.At the foot of the skid the men
tackle the Ice raft with bars again,
breaking off the cakea which go flying
.. . . H . - i . .
up me saia propeueu vj n wauj ui
horses, hitched to a long rope. The
rest is all easy, for the sleighs stand
' -
H0I8TI5O ICE BT STIAH MWIE.
there waiting for their loads to take
, over 10 tue uuubc-
The work of the Ice harvester la not
unlike that of the lumberman, and ona
shares the dangers as weU aa the fas
cinations of the other. That It has Its
fascinations la ahown by tha fact that
7mwm
m r i w m . . f - . - ii sga. ai ti : i
one hoary old gray-beard told that he
had been cutting lea every winter for
twenty - five years, and as ha worked
the saw up and down through tha
blocka of blue crystal ha really ap-1
peared to enjoy it, ana tnai too in
spue or me iaci u uw wmu w
blowing keen and atrong over tha St :
thing but secure.
A cubic foot of Ice weighs flfty-ser-en
and one-half pounds. Cut that Into
quarters and the result Is four very
small pieces, hardly sufficient to fill
an ordinary Derby hat four times over,
and still each will weigh upward of
fourteen pounds. Montreal Star.
JEFFERSON DAVIS' OLD HOME.
Beanvolr Mansion to Become Retreat
for Confederate Soldiers.
In all the fair southland there la not
a place dearer to tne nearts or tna
Southern people than Beauvolr, tha
late home of Jefferson Davis, -President
of the Confederate States. This home
was recently purchased by the sons of
Confederate veterans and will soon be
come a home for Impoverished Confed
erate veteran soldiers. , "
Beauvolr Is the most beautiful and
Imposing place on tha Gulf coast It
was settled and Improved by James
Brown, a wealthy planter, who was lav
ish In the expenditure of his abundant J
means In building and beautifying his
home. Oaks, cedars and magnolias via
with each other In adding charm, ana
the long, gray moss fills In any little
details that are lacking. The mansion,
as It was termed, Is as good as It was
the day It was built, over 00 years ago.
A gallery 80 feet long and 14tf feet :
wmo uuiueiB me UUIlUlUg IU IIUUI uu
1,1 l. A . V. 1 II .1 1 1.. mnA
on the sides, and ends In wings that
' v ',' will f I 1 ' " t V t'" '
-3 V I
i it ! I. J mt-it
i f 6 , i I
HOME or JEFFERSON DAVIS.
are entered through tall Venetian doors.
The hall Is 16 feet wide and opens at
tha rear on a wide gallery, on which
the wings also open. The room to the
right as the hall Is entered from the
front was Miss Winnie's room. What
a Mecca this room will be for the veter
ans, and how they will cherish every
thing that belonged to the "Daughter
of the Confederacy."
Equally distant from the mansion,
east and west, are quaint little cot
tages. Originally there was only ona
room In each, surrounded on tha four
Idea by wide galleries. Later one and
two sides have been Inclosed, giving
two additional rooms. It Is about the
east cottage that the principal Interest
centers, for It was In this that Mr. Da
vis studied and wrot, and where Mlsa
Winnie did much of her early literary
work. The main room of this cottage
was Mr. Davis' private library. The
walls are lined with book shelves, and
a little gallery runs along the upper
Bhelves. This was reached by a small
ladder. Near the fireplace Is where Mr.
Davis' desk stood, and tha door beside
It Is spattered with Ink thrown from
bis pen when he was writing his book.
"The Rise and Fall of the Confederate
Government." The east room has been
enclosed, and In this room the chieftain
was wont to recline and rest on a sofa.
Back of this was a tiny room where
Miss Winnie wrote. It Is a real girl's
den, and Is yet quite characteristic of
the former fair occupant.
The west cottage was occupied by
Mrs. Hayes, the older daughter, and
her children when visiting her parents.
The Beauvolr home was bequeathed
by will to Jefferson Davis by Mrs.
Sarah Anna Dorsey, of Louisiana.
Origin of the Military Salnte.
Of military salutes, raising the right
hand to the head It generally believed
to have originated from the days of
the tournament, when the knights filed
t tne tnrone 0 tne queen of beauty
aud, by ' way of compliment, raised
their hands to their brows to Imply
that her beauty was too dazzling for
unshaded eyes to gaxe on. The offi
cer's salute with the sword has a dou
ble meaning. Tha first position with
the hilt opposite the lips. Is a repeti
tion of the crusader's action In kissing
the cross hilt of bis sword In token of
faith and fealty, while lowering the
point afterward Impllea either submis
sion or friendship, meaning In either
case that It la no longer necessary to
stand on guard.
Things that Make England.
The recent elevation of a certain En
glish nobleman to tha peerage was
made the occasion of a presentation of
silver plate from his tenantry, with an
address of congratulation. The oldest
tenant on the estates got np and said
that he bad himself attended seventy
rent audits, and that his house had been
lived In by people bearing his name for
200 years. It U little things like this
that make England so sturdy, substan-
tlal and permanent, In comparison with
the nervous, volatile, nnstabla Ufa of
this country.
A Cerebral Sandow.
Kharpe A Baltimore man Is busy or
ganizing all the joke writers Into a
union; I wonder what kind of an em
blem they will use,
Whealton Why, a chestnut, of
course.
(And Immediately tha Ice-pack was
replaced about his fevered brow.)
Philadelphia Record.
Death Kale of St. Peterahnrg.
Et Petersburg has the highest death
rate of any European capital.
When a toper stops drinking It may
be either to his credit or to his lack
of credit.
APRIL .8 A LUCKY MONTH.
., f
Important Events In American History
Occurred Darin Its Thirty Pays.
"Did you know that the month of
April has played a more conspicuous
part In American history than any
other month of the year?" asked a
man who Is fond of things historical.
"From the "way I look at' the events
Involved. April is the most Important
of all the months and I hava often
wondered why the American people
show so much Indifference to the fact
Why. when you come to think of It,
the Fourth of July, while, of course,
mportant enough, la yet not quite so
momentous In the annals of American
nIgtory as iome other days one might
menti0n. April baa been the one
month of the yeftr whicn has really
KtneA tne great problems with which
the American people have had to deal,
Bnpp0M we giance at the record for a
moment
The war of the revolution began
April 19. 1775, and ended April 11,
1783. Coming on down we find the
Sabine disturbance, Involving the
southwestern frontier, Louisiana, Ar
kansas, and Texas, and which began
In April, 1836, running through to
June of the next year. The Mexican
war began April 24, 1846. The Yuma
expedition Into California ended In
April, 1852, having begun In Decem
ber the year previous. The Gila ex
pedition Into New Mexico was launch
ed April 16, 1857. The Colorado River
expedition In California ended April
28, 1859. The Pecos expedition into
I Texas was launched April 16, 1859.
There was the war of the Rebellion,
which started April 19, 1801. Hostili
ties actually began when Fort Sump
ter was fired upon April 12, 1861.
The Uta expedition In Colorado be
gan April 3, 1878. It Is a rather curi
ous coincidence that the late war with
Spam began April 21. In the same
montn ttn(j but two days later, with
gpect to the day of the month, than
the War of the Rebellion, which be-.
,. inrll 19. The Spanish-American
war began April 21, 1808, and ended
April 11, 1899. These are ome of the
more Important things which hava
taken nlace in the month of Aurll.
an(1 many of the event8 have been of
deep Import from the viewpoint of
Americans. What reason can you as
sign for the conspicuous part April
has played In the history of America?
Do men feel more like fighting In April
than in the other months of the year?
Is the spirit of war and revolution In
fluenced by the rising of the sap? I
, do not know, but there must be some
' good reason for the happening of these
great things, wars, explorations, ad
ventures and events of this sort in the
month of April. At any rate they
have happened In April, and It would
be unreasonable and altogether absurd
to assume that these things are due to
haphazard, that they are mere coinci
dences. - April cannot be explained out
of Its rightful Inheritance among the
more Important months In' American
history.
AGED ARE NOT DOOMED.
Diaeaeea May Ke Cured br Coaxing:
and Oentle Cafe.
In the past, and even yet all too fre
quently, the old man or the old woman
who had the misfortune to fall serious
ly 111 was believed to be doomed. The
disease was allowed to run its course
with little or no opposition from the
doctor, for so little hope was there that
It was commonly regarded as a useless
cruelty to annoy the dying sufferer
by pressing him to take the necessary
medicine and food. '..
Now we know that this Is wrong.
Old persons, very old ones, can and do
recover from the gravest diseases, and
they have as much right to claim the
thoughtful care and Intelligent treat
ment of the doctor and the nurse as
have their children and grandchildren.
But, of course, their treatment must
be of a different kind, both because
the frail system will not endure the
sometimes severe measures that are
life saving for the more robust, and
because disease In the' old assumes a
different character from that which it
assumes In the young.
The arteries In the aged are lesa
elastic, all the tissues are stlffer and
less plastic, and the reaction of the sys
tem is slower and less pronounced.
Fever, which accompanies every little
Indisposition In the child, Is Incon
spicuous In the maladies of old age,
and a disease like pneumonia may run
Its course, even to a fatal termination,
without any appreciable elevation of
tha body temperature, and, Indeed,
without any sign of Its presence be
yond more rapid breathing and pro
gressiva weakness.
Excretion Is less free In the old, and
the depressing signs of systematic poi
soning by waste products are much
more evident This poisoning is mani
fested, not in the wild delirium and
high fever of the young, but in stu
por, low-muttering delirium and vital
depression. The aim, therefore, must
be to rouse the flagging heart, .and to
assist elimination ot the toxic matters
from the system, at the same time us
ing only the gentlest measures.
The brittle organs of the aged will
not stand blows that are often needed
to get any response at all from those
of the young. They would break un
der such rough usage. They must be
coaxed and gently pushed, but never
driven. And herein lies the difficult
task of the physician. He must keep
a steady hand on the helm and a
watchful eye on the breake.rs. and
must know well just how much strain
tha weakened timber of the bark will
stand If he would guide It between the
Scylla of Inaction and the Charybdls
of excessive aeaL Youth'a Compan
ion. Klaaed Her Thwinb.
Because she kissed ber thumb In
stead of the testament when being
sworn at a Sunderland, England, po
lice court, a witness has been severely
admonished.
' A Helpful Bust ation.
"I sea that the New York Herald
wants to know If capital punishim-nt
la a failure."
"Why doesn't the Herald ask some
body who haa tried It V Cleveland
Plalndealer.
When a mother complains that wh.n
her daughter gets a bo- k lu her bands
she Is lost to the world. It Is a com
plaint that la half a boast
GEO. P. CROWELL,
Surrettor to K. L. Smith,
Oldest Established House in the t allsy.J
DEALER IN
Dry Goods, Groceries,
Boots and Shoes,
Hardware,
Flour and Feed, etc.
This old-established house will con
tinue to pay cash for all its goods; it
pays no rent; it employs a clerk, but
does not have to divide with a partner.
All dividends are made with customers
in tha way of reasonable pricea,
Lumber
Wood,
Posts, Etc.
Davenport Bros.
Lumber Co.
Have opened an office in Hood River.
Call and get prices and leave orders,
which will be promptly filled.
THE GLACIER
Published Every Friday
$1.50 A YEAR.
Advertising, 50 cents per inch, single
column, per month; one-half inch or
less, 25 cents. Reading notices, 6 cents
a line each insertion.
THE GLACIER prints all the local
news fit to print.
When you see it in THE GLACIER
you may know that others see it.
Oregon
Showtime
and union Pacific
i .jf-yo i ! a o
,. TIWE SCHEDULES
remind. Of.
Chicago Butt Iake, Denver, 4:80 p.m.
Portland Ft. Worth.Omaha,
Special Kaniu City, St.
f.'ioi. m. Louli,CbicagoaDd
via tL
Huntington.
At'antle Bt. Paul Fast Mall. 10:Ma.n.
Express
1:15 p.m.
via
Huntington.
St. Panl atlantlo Expreu. 1:Ma,m.
Fust Mall
(:0U p. m.
via
Spokane ,
. 70 HOURS
PORTLAND TO CHICAGO
No Change of Cars.
Loweat Bates. Qulckeit Time.
OCEAN AND RIVER SCHEDULE
rtOM PORTLAND. '
1:00 p.m. All ulllnf datu C:U0 p. m,
ubjeet to eliana
For San Franclnco
fcalleverr daya
Dally Celunkla River 1 00 p. m.
Ex. Sunday itmmre. Ix. Suudiy
OH p.m.
fiturday To aitnrla and Way
U:WI p. n. Landing.
.45a.m. Willamette II n. I SO p. m.
Hon., Wed. Tuea.Tbu.,
and Fri. Balem, Indrnen- bat.
deuce, I'orvallli
and way laudiuga.
f :00 a.m. Taaklll liter. 4:p.ra.
Ton., Tbur. Mob., Wed,
and Sat, Oregon City. Dayton aa! Fn.
and way lending.
Lv. Rl.ria Snake Iher. I.v.Lewtttoa
m. t:0la.m.
taiy eiwpl Rlparia to Lewlatoa DUj except
A. L, CRAIO,
enteral Peaeengcr Agent, Fortltad, Or
A. X. BOAR, tnU M4 Klver.