INCORPORATED), A FULL AND COMPLETE SET OF»------------------------------
-A. stracts of _A_H x_1a,nds ELnd Town. Lots in tixe County
The only Set of Abstracts in the County
the doctor eudor .
Yes, y«." r«Plled he-----
utrtUl b. did not «uru from bis glowing
go ill, so very ill, doctor, that I fear”-----
Go to tbs devil with your fears! Do you
good woman, that I am busy.”
Busy!” replied the old woman. “How do
iOw what att Trying to discover the
t secret, perhaps, and while you are thus
jy tempting the devil, the poor dear
b dying "
Uni secunda elapsa hora, et aqua incan-
•nte, canidem iterum Injlcies pulverem.”
• doctor threw two handfuls of white
[er in the vane, and went on reading
old parchments.
a old woman drew a long and deep sigh,
doctor was a young man, twenty-eight
i of ag*. i*rhap»*, but it was difficult to
sat it from his pale and emaciated coun
ties. You could only see that hard study,
erh.nps gr-ef, anything but years, had
int**d on his forehead a deep, solitary,
premature furrow, and to look at his
iv chocks, sallow complexion, and long
tangled hair, one could not but feel re-
that the bloom of health did not now
late his regular and beautiful features.
wu bending over the vase; sometimes
idling, with his breath, the dying coals,
Ise interrupting his reading to throw
len and herbs into the water.
he great secret—old goose—better, much
r than that A right of life and death 1”
d suddenly he exclaimed:
hat is it—admirably, admirably done.”
ow, old mother, 1 am at your sorvice,”
i be, an if the old woman was still there
; she had gone.
»doctor poured into a small bottle his
ical preparation, a blue liquid which
iced a sweet tier fume; he threw his dark
le over bis disordered clothes, and left
iboratory, bolding in his hand his pre-
vial, carefully wrapped in the folds of
mtle, to hide it f;-> u the curiosity of
i, or to preserve it hum the accidents
ong and rapid walk.
i twenty minutes’ fast walking from the
de i’Horloge to the Rue des Tournelles;
»nty minutes the doctor had reached his
stion. He stopped before a large and
ome hotel, the walls that surrounded
urtyanl were high and thick, the door
ind bordered with iron—a precaution
l»e forgotten—for all this took place in
iber, 1584, during the reign of King
F the Third.
knocked, and from behind a barred
w a servant recognised and admitted
as! Sir Eudor,” said a man of about 60
of age, "I have but very little hope.”
doctor hardly restrained a smile, but
1 man did not perceive it—his eyes were
vith tears.
i must not give up entirely, M. le
); nature and science have so many re-
” These consoling words were ut-
i a sneering manner, and the count
ed to weep. Eudor shrugged his
rs as if the husband’s grief struck him
d or ridiculous. Without adding a
le drew aside a covering of thick
, and entered a large and somber
«it. The count followed him.
• the patient's room. In the back-
surrounded by curtains, stood the
he doctor a; »proached and motioned
>unt to open the window. The beau-
ceof a female then became visible;
g had scarcely altered her delicate
■feet features. Her sweet face was,
pale, and beneath her long black eye-
'as a small blue circle—but who would
e preferred her appearance, ill as she
¡the most blooming t>eauty?
' gazed fixedly at her. Tbe count
limself on the foot of the bed and
i eyes on the doctor, who, wrapped
own meditations, thought neither of
fing nor discouraging him. After a I
lent« of silence, Eudor gently lifted
rlid and took the arm of the patient
sr pulse.
Ider indicated that the countess was
ioint of waking; tbe doctor looked
y around.
irisis will take place when she awakes,
i emotion may prove fatal. You
Ire, sir.”
* hide behind this curtain,” said the
‘I do so long to see her open her
thinking that in past days your power would
have conquered my reason, then 1 might
have been yours without crime, but now”-
“That Is true,” replied Eudor, abruptly
Ah, it is clear enough we were uot made for
one another; we have uot the same way of lov
ing. Miserable fool that 1 um, 1 was sacri
fleing to you honor und conscience! But
what can Ido! 1 have one of those weak
I minds, over which love reigns like a tyrant,
a crime would lie of no consequence in my
I eyes if it would make you mine. Do you
bear me? a crime-if it but free you!”
An exclamation of horror burst from the
countess.
“You need uot be frightened,” returned
Eudor, hastily; “you do not understand me.”
After a minute of silence, the countess said
bi a sweet and melancholy tone of voice;
“Eudor, why do you thus torment a poor suf
| faring woman? Is this a time to talk thus to
me? Probably you know even better than my-
self that it would be no longer in my power
i to accept of the guilty happiness vou offer me.
I 1 feel so weak, soou, very soon, I trust, all
' will be over—fears and Borrows, and this
broken heart will be at rest ”
“Why these sad thoughts?”
“Sad? oh, nol they are happy ones. How
often have 1 prayed to God to take me from
this earth, where all happiness is lost to me.
God has heard me.”
“Then,” said Eudor, “you would like
to”-----
“Die,” replied the countess calmly
“If I were to tell you that there was no
more hope: that your disease was a fate!
one”-----
Endor’s countenance was lighted up, as he
Bpoke, with an almost infernal expression of
joy; he gazed for an instant on this beautiful
young woman, who seemed to be almost
dying, and then, he continued:
“Well, then, since you are prepared, I will
tell you the truth. When 1 just now spoke
of a future, of joy and love, 1 wished to de
ceive you, and to give you a hope that I my
self have lost”— He stopped; it Beemed
impossible for him to articulate another
word, she fixed on him such a look of love
aud melancholy; and in her beautiful black
eyes, there was such an expression of tender
ness and regret at leaving this world, that
the young man seemed deeply moved.
“Ahl you are not as much weaned from
this life as you saidl” A smile played on the
pale lips.
“Yes,” said she, “1 own it, I felt, I do not
know why, my heart sink; but my courage is
returning. I am ready now,” added she,
takiug Eudor’s hand and putting it on her
heart; “now repeat those words, and you |
will feel it beat neither faster now slower.” j
“Well, then,” said Eudor, disengaging his
hand; “let the will of heaven he done I” He
retreated a few steps, and concealing himself
behind the curtains, he drew from his bosom
the vial he had placed there onenteringl An
instant more, and he calmly presented to
Emma a cup filled to the very brim with the
blue liquid.
“What for!” said she; “will it prolong my
life?”
“No,” replied Eudor.
“Well, then—why must I take another
bitter potion?”
“This one is not bitter, Emma; and if it
cannot conquer your fever, it will, at least,
save you from all sufferings in your last mo
menta.” The counteaa put the cup to her lipB,
and, while she slowly drank it, Eudor con
tinued: “Y^)U will deep os if after a ball,
quietly rocked with the sounds of sweet
music, your flowers and your dress before
your eyes.”
“Yes," replied the countess, returning to
him the empty cup, “yes, all my happy recol
lections will assist me at this moment, since
you are there, you with whom all the joys
and pleasure of ray past life are connected."
One hour had passed, and ever since she
bad taken Eudor’s prescription the counted
had l>een hopelessly weak. 8he asked for the
consolations of religion.
Priestaand Levites soon arrived carrying the
Bacrwi Host It was a Bad sight, a room full
of kneeling persons, repeating in a low voice
th«» prayers for the dying, which only sobs of
anguish occasionally interrupted; here and
there yellow lights throwing their flickering
rays over the kneeling crowd, and bending
over tbe bed an aged priest ministering to a
youthful female.
Soon the crowd dispersed and again Eudor
was left alone with Emma, but the interview
waa not long. Her last look, ber last prayer,
ber last Bigb were for tbe only one she bad
ever loved, and death seized bis prey.
Did Eudor display grief at her mournful
end?
He gazed at her calmly; but now and then,
as if to quiet some importune thought, he
repeated:
“She wished to die Tho worst can only
be that her wish has been granted.” He
called the count and led him to the bed.
“You are the person to close her eyes.”
The despair of the old man was heart rend
ing. He fell senseless by the body of his wifa
When the count was come from tbe cham
ber Eudor returned to the bedside. He
seemed to feel an exquisite pleasure in wateb^
ing tbe body Tbe clred eyee. the .tiffened
linibe, the features once so beautiful, now
pale and sunken He gawd and murmured
with a smile:
•• Tl» right, no breath, no hf»-cold-rigid
-dead.”
...
The room soon filled with domestic, all
with tears in their eyea and grief at their
hearts end on their lip.; all prayed for th.
nul Of tbe deceased-she will go straight to
paradise, said they, She was so good.
••Without reckoning that she had her pur
gatory in this world," half murmured the
doctor, who alone did not bend bi» knee or
pray for her who bad died. There wa. in
then JO man old relation. Eudor addrewssl
r," said Eudor, with a disdainful and
nile.
“Well, count, enjoy that
and risk your wife's life for such a
1 satisfaction."
unt, after a moment’s hesitation,
the doctor promised to call him as
»Bible.
of joy brightened the features of
; man when he found himself alone
m, and his countenance, animated
I emotion, ap|»eared singularly
He no longer stopped to gaze; but,
by the bedside, he covered with
*cs the hand of the young woman
ly passed his fingers through the
lishevelled curls, and even dared to
•urning aud perched lipa
(claimed be as he gazed at her,
icb courage is uecessary? But 1
t; and in a few hours five years of
id labor will be rewarded.”
it words aw.»ke the countess.
or did not change bis posture, he
,n his knees, and still held tbe pa
rt. she turned her beautiful eyes
m and started with mingled sur-
©nd joy
*• • nv>ment of silence, ’.either
other spoke. I’erhan* ,uey were
B "T1 “u«bt end t ’.eir happiness,
dhksadrmm.
wd Eu.lor, "ws are alone, alone ‘" ■Slie murt be buried a. won a.
.L.1
lbe first time since I «1,1 I,,-, "her disease u. con tag. ora, and if you
it is the first time in fl vs wnit more than two hour», your live, will aU
be , .lunger." Half frightened
coontem prevented her oid .Oman gave her ordere, tbjr
began to toll, tbe crosse. «ere raise.», tn.
light* prepared, th. room, hung «ithmou«^
ing. ami - owly th. funeral procemion cam.
from tlie church.
Tfte Issly had been dreraed In ber bandsom
eat ga me ms-adre» of brocade with apeari
necldace. ' rwl
:, l> lace around th. neck, and her
feet < overwl with stocking» of rilk and gold,
and sii.es of white
••It is her bridal dre»»," »aid win» on. to
E “That i. right, for th. ram. occadoo. ram.
| dr£.effln «» there, but th. c-unt'**
«till on ber bed. The old aunt approached,
ill re tn band. Un. would bar. thought
‘^prreenufv.of
R. R. HAYS, Manager, Tillamook, Oregon.
I
the coffin, and, wot with thia sacred dew tt
w as taken to the tumb
Three hours had elapsed since the last cere-
niomes had been pertvnned. aud the church
presented a striking and imposing scene, cal
culated to Impress on weak mid wavering
minds the terrors of religion. The rays of
the moon striking on the painted window
panes threw strange figures over the white
and lofty walls, while the different effects of
light and shallow gave to the images of the
saints a fantastic and unusual appearance.
The altar was still hung with black, in the
middle of the church yet stood, covered over
with black cloth sprigged with silver, the
stools ou which the coffin had been placed,
and from the pillars around still bung the
escutcheons of the late countess. It was a
solemn spectacle, and occasionally the moon,
bidden by a cloud, left the whole in dark
ness, which was only relieved by the flicker
ing and uncertein flame of the lights around
the altar
Suddenly a slight noise was heard, a foot
step, a man carrying a lantern and long ex
tinguLsher appeared. It was the sexton. He
went his rounds in silence, and as he returned
suddenly dropped bis extinguisher and uttered
a loud exclamation
The cause of bis surprise and affright was a
man leaning against a pillar, immovable, and
so weak, so suffering, that apparently he bad
not strength enough to drag him from the
church when the last l»ell had tolled, bls dry
and sunken eyes were fixed on the face of the
sexton, and his right hand supported his
aching brow.
“Bountiful provideuce, is it a ghostr said
Maitre Arnoux, the sexton; and as he pro
nounced these words he let his lantern shine
full upon the stranger
“ What are you doing here, sir f” said he,
when he found he had to deal, not with a
ghost, but with a young and handsome man.
“ The church is closed. ”
The person to whom these words were ad
dressed, answered only by a half suppressed
groan; his limbs gave way, and he fell on the
pavement.
“ May my good saint, St. Anthony, help
me,” exclaimed Maitre Arnoux, “ what am I
to do with this man I 1 verily believe he is
half dead.”
As he uttered these words, he shook him
violently by the sleeve, and filling his hands
with holy water, bathed his temples. The
young man opened his eyes.
“ I am very weak indeed,” said he, in a low
and faltering voice. “ My sufferings have
overwhelmed me. • • • Have you no cor
dial, good man f"
"1 have but one,” replied the sexton,
"which is excellent for recalling one to sense
—goxl wine.”
“Yes, I think a little wine might restore
me. ”
“Well, then, my friend, you must crawl
up to my cell, for it would be offending the
6aints to drink here.”
Assisted by Arnoux, the young man
reached a little door that opened into the
church, and, having ascended a winding
staircase, found himself in the rooms of the
sexton, who immediately poured out some
wine for him.
“Well, friend, do you feel better now?”
“Much, much better,” replied Eudor, while
bis companion emptied a large glass.
“True Burgundy,” exclaimed Arnoux,
striking the table with the cup be bad just
emptied.
The cups were again filled; but one merely
raised his to his lips, while the other threw
himself back, and scrupulously swallowed
the last drop of the nectar.
“His excellency the urchdeacon does not
drink any to compare to it,” exclaimed the
sexton in his bacchanulian enthusiasm; “I
will tell you the whole story.”
Eudor listened with imperturbable sang
froid to all the stories of his companion,
which became more and more obscure after
every cupful. The enormous face of the sex
ton shone with a color of the brightest red;
his eyes wandered; he smiled stupidly. At
last, after emptying his cup for the thirteenth
tune (fatal nunil»en, the joyous drinker burst
into a loud fit of laughter, threw l»ack his
hea<l and stretched his cramped legs. This
motion was too rapid; his feet slipped on the
floor and he fell flat.
The doctor immediately sprang on him, as
a dog on the wild boar just wounded by the
hunter’s ball, quickly and silently bo drew
from the sexton's belt a bunch of keys, seized
his lantern, cleared with one jump the wind
ing staircase and found himself in the church.
The door opened, Sudor was in the damp
repository of the dead. Amidst all the splen
did monuments there was one place where
the earth bad been newly turned up and a
wreath of flowers thrown over it. That was
it. Eudor pushed aside the wreath aud dug
away at the last resting place. The coffin
appeared; the lid was broken, and once more
he contemplated his victim.
At this instant the clock struck, the doctor
counted the slowly proceeding strokes with
terror—ho counted ten. “Weill ‘Opportunum
p«mt duoflecim boras moiuenitum permane
nt. ’ There is still plenty of time."
Having pronounced these mysterious words
be raised the corpse os carefully as if it had
been a sleeping woman be was afraid of dis
turbing, and laid it on bis cloak. The coffin
was empty, but when the monument would
be finished they would find it lightened of ita
contento, aud what might then be suspected?
A few years before a horrible profanation
bod taken pbce. A young and beautiful girl
having died, was buried, and the next day
ber body disappeared. It was afterward
known that the lover of tlie young girl had
stolen the corpse and embalmed it The
young man was burnt alive on tbe Flace de
Greva
Tlie grave must be filled Tbe coffin must
have ita weight. Eud«»r threw in it tbe statue
of a saint, worm eaten and abandoned, and
carefully nailing it up once more, placed it
under ground.
Eudor then bent over the body of the coun
ted and after an anxious examination raised
it in his arms and left the church yard, ami
through dark and out of tbe way streete, at
length reached bis dwelling
In 10UI, seventeen years after this adven
ture, a duel Ujok place one night on tbe Quai
de I'Horioge, between the Chevalier de Com-
mingea and tbe young Marquis de Ja-piea.
Tbe latter having received a woufui in tbe
side waa earned by bw attendants b> tbe Dr.
Endor’s, who* dwelling was near and repo-
tetion great Recalled te life by tbe skillful
care that was taken of him. tbe marquis wM
•truck with the reniarkabie bkeneaa, notwith
standing a great difference of age, which ex
ited bet ween lb«
d««’te>r and the
late Counter de la Jaques, bis aunt, wbo bad
die! at the age »f
ami of whom be bad
c-nly
ttw portrait -Tranateted fr<xn tee
Frencit
___ ______________
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to follow
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*»F
THE VILLAIN PURSUED.
I
I
CHICAGO’S PHYSICAL PECULIARITY.
Villages Which Have Beeotue
Cities lu Sise—A Prophecy.
Chicago baa a physical ptvuliarity that
radically affects its social conditiou, and pre
vents its becoming homogeneous. It has one
busine68 center and three List met residence
parts, divided by the branching river Com
munication between tbe residence sections
has to be made through the business city,
and is further hindered by the bridge cross
ings, which cause irritatiug delays the
greater part of the year The result is that
three villages grew up, now Itecome cities in
size, and each w ith a peculiar character.
The north side w as originally the more aris
tocratic, and having fewer rail ways and a lees
occupied with business lake front, was the
most agreeable as a place of residence, always
having the drawitack of the bridge crossings
to the business part. After the great tire
building iota were cheaper there than on the
south side within reasonable distance of the
active city It Las grown amazingly, and is
beautified by stately housesand fine architec
ture, and would probably still be called the
more desirable place of residence. But the
south side has two great advantages—easy
acix«#» to the busim** «'enter and to the great
southern parks and pleasure grounda This
latter would decide many to live there. The
vast west side, with its lumlier yards and
factories, its foreign settlements and its
population outnumbering the two other sec
tions combined, is practically an unknown
region socially to the uorth side and south
side.
The causes which produced three villages
surrounding a common business center will
contiuue to operate. The west side will con
tinue Co expand with cheap houses, or even
elegant residences on the park avenues—it is
the glory of Chicago that such a large pro
portion of its bouses are owned by their oo-
cupanta, and that there are few tenement
rookeriea, and aven few gigantic apartment
houses—over a limitless prairie, the north
side will grow in increasing beauty about
Lincoln park, and the south side will more
and more gravitate with imposing houses
about the attractive south parka Thus the
two fashionable part« of the city, separated
by five, eight un i ten miles, will develop a
social life of their own, about as distinct as
New York and Brooklyn It remains to be
seen which will call the other “Brooklyn.”
At present these divisions account for much
of the disorganisation of social Life, and pre
vent that concentration which seems essen
tial to the highest social development.—
Charles Dudley Warner in Harper's Muga
cine
Three
A
"MASHER"
DISCOMFITED
BY
LADY’S SEi_F POSSESSION.
An Incident Which Took Place on a
Itrouklyn Promenade— A Self ( oocelted
Club Man Brought to Grief—Coinuieuda-
ble Feminine Dignity.
Ordinarily the women of Brooklyn are ex
empt from insult on the stieeL That uni
versal nuisance, the "masher," is uot often
seen in this city An incident that paxsed
under the Ham bier’s observation, however,
showb that there are exceptions to the i*ule,and
that some of our bowling swells occasionally
transceud the proprieties of gentlemanly be
havior in their treatment of the fair sex. The
incident occurred ou a bright Saturday after-
nooiL Fulton street, in the fashionable mer
cantile quarter above the city halt was
crowded. Robust dowagers, blooming ma
trons and radiant maidens brightened the
thoroughfare ou both side« The swish of
6ati*is and silks w as al most audible above the
tinkling car bells. Rich perfumes, exhaled
from dainty handkerchiefs, permeated the
air Wonders in millinery flouted about like
so many immature flower gardeua
The
scene was brilliant, enlivening aud pictur
eequa
Suddenly a womau more beautiful than
any on the promenade appeared in the
throng She sailed along Like the Puritan,
the Mayflower or Volunteer amid a aquudron
of inferior yachts She was a beauty, and
no mistaka Her figure, of about medium
height, was admirably proportioned aud su
perbly developed. Her skin, as smooth as
ivory or alabaster, mingled the hues of
the lily and the rose. Her rich brown hair,
brushed straight back from the temples, re
vealed a perfect forehead From beneath her
pretty bonnet her luminous gray eyes, deli
cately shaded by sweeping lashes, looked
forth in candid confidence upou the surround
iriga From the tip of the plume in the bon
net to thy little feet that pattered ou the
pavement this dainty lady was dressed in ex
quisite taste. Her ooKtume, a dream in old
gold and rich brown, admirably t>eran)e her
charming person. Nothing could have been
more modest than ber demeanor, and yet, by
her superior charms, she attracted general at
tention. Men, and women too. stop;»ed to
look after her in udmiratiou. Quite unaware
of the sensation she created, she continued
quietly on her way But the vidian still pur
sued ber
CRIMSON WITH CHAGRIN
Just os she neared the corner of Bridge
street the "inaKher’’ ap|»eured Those famil
iar with Brooklyn affairs would readily
reeoguize him asa well known club man who
is largely engaged in the wholesale import
ing trade. He is ban<lsomo, wealthy and
well connected. His personal frieuds num
ber a small army His reputation has been
aLxive reproach in the elevated sex11al circles
in which< he moves, and he eujoys the de
lights of a refined home and a large and
interesting family Bounding along at a rol
licking pace, he approached the belle of the
pronienude. In a moment he was walking
rapidly tieside her She looked neither to
the right uor left He bent upon her lace a
gaze of ardent appreciation. Ou ward she
marched without recognizing his proximity.
They moved forward side by side for per
haps a hundred feet.
The "masher” turned crimson with cha
grin The lady was as cool and colJ«*<*ted as
if she bad been within the sacred precincts
of her boudoir Buddeuly the interlo|»er
whispered swiftly in her ear and switched
into a side street in order to note the effect
of his worda What he said elicited not so
much as the respousive elevation of an eye-
bryw The lady proceeded calmly and with
much dignity on her way When she reached
Macouitier Btpiare she gracefully trip;»«!
across the car tracks and entered a mercan
tile palace in the neigiitiorhood Her pursuer,
very much cresltallen. slunk into a conve
nient inn aud pru«*vede<1 to drowu his dis
con>fltlire in copious litmtiona Had ha
learned a leaaon that would prevent a rej»eti-
tion of his misconducts-Bruoklyu Eagle
“ Ram bier. ”
___________
Artist Prior’s Famous Cartoon.
At Tamni, in the Egyptian campaign under
Gen. Graham, Mr Prior came "witbiu au
ace” of losing bis lifa “The gallant Forty-
second” having been ordered to charge,
o[»ened up a gap and advanced in double
column. The brunt of the Soudanese attack
fell at once on the frout of the supporting
Sixty fifth Prior, who had been hard at
work milking sketches, was by this change of
front left fully exposed to the enemy's fire,
and turned towards the Sixty-fifth. They
were already retiring, pressed back by the
momentum of the fanatics' charge. This left
the correspondent in the open, and the brown
warriors made a rush for him. They came
to within fifteen feet, almost overtaking him.
As the foremost Arab launched bis s|»ear, it
whizzed over Prior's shoulder and transfixed
a soldier of the Sixty fifth immediately in
his front
Prior fell Into his proxy’s place in the fly
ing ranks, and when the rally was made the
native assault was easily repulsed. The
column was reformed into a long line and in
their advance 4,01)0 Soudanese were killed
and wounded. The rest fltxl.
After the flurry Prior went to the scene of
the deadliest attack and began sketching this
famo<< iMiltlefleld. The flying enemy were
out «»I range aud the sand was strewn with
•ii vage corp«***—as he thought
Suddenly he heard a voice from the rear
call out
“Come out of that. Prior; we've
just had a man kill«*d there I”
He turned. Within eight feet of him
writhed the bloody yet still supple form of a
wounded Soudanese. There was a gleam of
bloodthirstiness in tlie fallen chiefs eyes and
of triumph al tlie swift vengt'ance be already
L'ftrfiiln«*«* of the Phonograph.
counted sure on one at least of the white In
The improvements In the phonograph have vaders His steM.ing spear, a short, heavy
now been carried to such a degree of perfec weapf»n with a t»nj«d double edged steel bluds
tion that the instrument is practically ready and an Ironclad butt, was raised in his right
for general introduction.
Undoubtedly band, ready for the thrust be would In a mo
means will be hit iijmm » from time to time to ment t»e near enough to make.
eniianoe the value and efficiency of the phono
One look was enough. Prior “«‘erne out of
graph. but It «land« today, in our opinion, that.” And then the British soldiers went
far more practical and complete than was over the battlefield and shot every one of the
the tyjiewnter when Unit brought out and wounded, as a means of self protection. This
plat'll on the market Hark of all Lite tall talk scene furnished for The Illustrated News Mr.
and exaggeration on the subject, for which Prior’s famous cartoon
“Killing the
the daily pre* is chiefly responsible—cer Wounded,” which ex<4ted so much feeling in
tainly not th owe who are introducing lt>— is a London that a parliamentary investigation
machine of admirable performance, wboee waa had into the justification of such “cru
utility is so wide and various that it Is bard elty "—John Paul Bucock iu New York
to determine just which work wL4 give it the World.
__________
largest fields of employment And tbeu, too,
Mbits Natives of Africa.
aside from the practical use. is the wonder—
for wonder It la—that not only can the hu
Most people who have read Rider Hag
man voice be registered, but it can be dupli gard's tale of the great white race in Africa
cated in oountieas electrotypes
consider it the purest fiction, but such Is not
We may be wrong but not greatly, in be the cam Hou th of Timbuctoo and north of
lieving that thia century will be memorable Kong mountains, io the western part of
above others because it io that which And Africa, live the Foolahs, the white tribe of
preserved articulate speech for after tuna the Dark Continent. This tribe has good
AU poetry of every age. is full of the yearn features, a skull modeled like that of a white
ing one of the dee|M*( in human nature, for tnau. and a complexion about as dark as that
the voice whom gentle greeting could be of the Italians They were great slave trad
beard no more, and yet this tender Beatuneot ers tn the eld days, bat they uiade a «[»ertally
will he gmtihed. and ea< b elusive to<ie aud of the finest grades of caplives, aud Itut few
accent now has conferred on it a perpetuity of their own number were ever transported.
that is not an attribute of even the graven Ills ««aid that a shipload of them was once
stone or brant — Electrical W or Id.
buxled on Ute coast of Izmisiaoa, and that
the Creolea. refusing to believe them darkies,
popular Newspaper Literature.
set them free and bung Itos slaves
What sort of literaturs is our popular
Thaw P<M»iabs settlwi down Io the marshes
nx.lern ue««reref
10
*» of Houthem Izxilsiaaa, and after a while tee
would b. unfa'/ to iguore the fart that aoma earns civilised, and in that part of the »tate
of our n.w»(ia(*r. do exert tb. tret literary today yon will find tell, dark, rather good
influence on tbeir r<-a>leni and corwrtaotioualy l<F/klng white men who have all ti»e lnd«>iao«w
aubonlinata outer feet urn. of tbelr work m of It* black Afrkwn. wbo are sometimes as
their duties a. educator»
But th. typical fierce as the Arab, aad always hospitable and
modem oew.|«per. to meet th. la«e which rnusual 1tews pei»ple are the dmnendanto
Il tiaa erretrd. mu»l .urn-txler »hoi. <x»lumna of the Foolahs. and tbelr Mayfl«»wer was •
to writer, wbo aim only al I—mg amuaiog, Slavsr There are strange people la thia
and Often wx-cewJ only in 1*10» |wrL «Unity great country of ours. - ILanaaa City Star.
or wanda lou. and it mwt find or In rant
“uaw." item, «hkb ■»»•about a. lofty an
influence 00 tb. mnxi. of
aa th.
woreler. of th. fair twd 00 Uw mind of M'rea
Frimmaa A continual flr*»l of «uch mattre
1, O.X U) 1« offkel M a.rm-ttrl by an anew-
kxmal brilliant whtotiaf or a tuuf column
«jrei-b by a public man. or a -.ybdiunlw-
story by a good writer
A nd the effw-ts srs curnulati »* H« m T j new»-
Mpw»ar»«redily trainia»a large oumtre
of rredcr. to falw WnnUnl. in Uw only liter*-
tun ot wlurt» u»y «*»•
anddally re
parwore and th. n.wei«l»r. urewreiraaare
— »Mdily treng fonwd to aa wl'<pt>oo of
■
arendanU la brMf tb. uawp»
par at U» ire»- bf rkreoo of it. lac« «f oje
port unity waa cuo.fwiire to rewrtrt iu
rm<lan to matter of pwmanaot wliwwtlooa»
ratu. to. a.w«pe<"« “«
orreml tnrough
Ita repreatoodarre of CM"«“11! “ “»
ofteu uaiaina tt. raadre. out (X all enowt
vtg, at « rare tor adwrauoanl Mandan»*-
TbaLretary
THE IIUXGER STRIKE.
GRIM DETERMINATION OF POLITICAL
PRISONERS IN RUSSIA.
They Wanted Permission to Work, to Re
ceive Food from the Outside, to Read
and to Go to Church—Victory Secured
at Last.
The following morning—it was July 3—all
the prisoners of the "right solitary” refused
to eat their food. When the warders, at the
order of the director, o[»eiied the cells at 3
o’clock ill the afternoon they found the food,
placed th« re in the morning, untouched. Au
excellent sup|ier, consisting of fragrant
bouillon, delicious roast beef ami filming tea
and cakes—food the prisoners had already for
gotten the taste of—was placed in the cells in
the evening, but they wore not to be tempted
and took no notice of it. The same night
they were joined by the "lefts,” or the occu
pants of the “left solitary,” who had by some
means learned of their action and of the
causes w hich prompted it. Seeing that the
prisoners were iu earnest, the director, at
midnight, ordered all food and water to lie
removed from the «ells. “1'11 make them
beg for food," he thought He did not sleep
that night. He stole on tiptoe from one
wicket hole to another, watching what the
prisoners were doing. They lay on their
pallets, gazing at the ceiling, or talking to
r ich other by knocks, and in the twilight of
the cells their bodies reminded the director
of hobgoblins. Grim silence prevailed hi the
corridor.
Early in the forenoon a delicious breakfast
was brought into the cells, but the prisoners
exhibited no desire to eat it, and it was taken
back to the kitchen. At noon a luxurious
dinner was served, ami although it remained
uutouche«', it occurred to the director to
leave it all day in the cells. The voluntary
sutTeivi’s thre.v th«» food into the “parashkas."
In the evening the same story was refloated,
with the same result. The director ordered
Mishkin, Alexandroff and Cicianoff to lie
brought from the "karrer” back to their cells,
hoping to reconcile the prisoners, and that
the three men, touched by their |>ardon,
would try and [lersuade the others to give up
their dangerous undertaking, but he found
be had made a mistake—Mishkin, as well as
Cicianoff and zViexandroff, joined their fel
low prisoners.
At a late hour of the second night the di
rector, aec<>mpHiii«‘d by the prison physician,
went fr »in cell to cell, begging ami suppli
cating the prisoners to «»at, reminding them
of their homes, fathers, mothers, relatives
and friends, to whom they might soon re
turn, apologising for the rudeness he had dis
played whuii overzeal« > uh in the |»erformun<'e
of his duties, mid explaining that he was
merely a subonlinate official who had to
oliey the orders from those almve him. At
all the cells the director received the same
laconic reply, “Grant what we are asking.”
In the forenoon of the tliir<l day the pris
oners were all led into th«» yard, where the
common prisoners and soldiers sat around
large tables eating and drinking. The direc
tor thought that the sight of |»ersons eating
would induce the hungry to take fisxl, but
they di<l nothing of the kind, and were taken
buck to their cells. Outside the prison walls
nothing was known of all th«*«« horrors. The
direct« r gave strict orders to all soldiers and
warders to keep their mouths shut, and, fear
ing his wrath, they carried out his orders to
the letter. The serious character of the airair
so frightened the director that in the morn
ing of the fourth day he dismissed all the
warders whose insolence hud displeased the
prisoners, and gave orders to their successors
to lx» us [>olite mid gentle ux [tosiiible. Again
mid again be visited the cells, humiliating
himself before those whom he formerly
truuUsl as IxAasts, and conjuring them to oat
and to live for the sake of their relatives and
friends, but hh> efforts were of no avail.
In the e» Tiling of the fourth day the prison
priest, a low lived hy[»orrite, went with a
large crois in his arms from cell to cell, sup
plicating the prisoners to eat, in the name of
G<si, but his prayers and entreaties received
no attention from the half d«*ad sufferers.
Their condition that night was of a most de
priving nature. Most of them could no
longer stand on their feet; some fainted,
others raved i*onstantly, an I sjieeial warders
had to watch at their beds all night in order
to prevent their sudden expiration. The
director did not sleep all night. Tbe physi
cian and bis asNistants had never had such a
busy time Isffore. Fifty-eight men were
ap|»arently dying slowly from voluntary
starvation. Tiiey touched nothing but water,
and some also atNtained even from this.
The «aine night a conference, preside« 1 over
by tbe director, and attended by the [»hysi-
rian, tbe pri<»Mt, the officers of the garrison
mid the bead warders, was held at ths prison
office. The director deliver«*! a mournful
B|*eeeh, saying that he was tired of the duties
of his office, that his ofli« e would kill biin la
a few years, ami that he was ready to resign
if bis resignation would be acfwjjted. “But
what Is U> l«e done now/” he axclaimed, dm-
matically. “1 cannot grant their demand«,
it’s la’.vond my ¡xiwer to «io it. Up b» ths
prevent time ! still hof»ed tlie fellows would
change their minds or br«-nk down an«i lx*gin
to eat. For this reason I intended not to let
the governor know of this h«»rribie affair
But now I ace they are in earn«*Mt They ara
determined to die. 1 don’t want b» be solely
rexponsibie for their deaths, and 1 think it’s
time to report everything b» the governor
ami let him act a* he thinks best.**
All agreed tltat no other course was ¡«oasi
ble aader tlie circumstances, ami a nqxjrt
was got up and forwarded immediately to
the governor of KharkolT. On the sixth day
of the famine July b Conm-ilor Homntxeff,
a<tfMHnpahied by tlie chief doKor of tlie
province, arrived at the “centralka.** They,
too, began by exh«/rting the [rrisonera bjtake
««»me mairiBhment. Acnompanied by tlie
difWtor ami the prison physn lan, they went
from cell bi cell, arguing, liegghig end
threatening, lait their efforU w.-re as useless
a« tha»e of tlie dirwtor and his amistants.
On the seventh «lay tl»e priwai was visitai
by a niimler of genemls and tlie pr«M*ursur,
or attfwney general, of the province. Tliey
received the same calejpwtell reply; “Grant
tmr «Wt.vaml*. ' He. ing that mXhing could
shaka Ute raw.lut km of the prisoners, and
fearing to wait any longer, the governor
ord* rwi U m «lire. b»r to capitulate that is,
to ¡«omise to fulfill ail their demanda As
tie* prisoners ba.1 no faith in pr »misee of
RussiaJ* g</verume»it «»ftiHab, I.Mith the gov
ernor ami the director bad b> sign a paper
obliging themselves to permit tba ¡»ohUcal
pneiners to w>»rk,
rwelve f«xjd from the
««Hauls, Vf road all tie* books permitted by
the state censor, to visit the prison church on
a Humlay uainsd by them. etc. Thus, ou the
eighth day <^f the famine-July 10 -Che prie-
ouers usee again took food.*-*111« bacl Malkoff
hi Chicago howa
Wk««t th.
a..*.. I. Kleh-
—Mtr. ? alway« alm to Ull th. truth," re-
(narkwi a pobtk-ian wU> waa la a Brtnul
yrwt *!■<« UM night, and wbuaa «aracity
0*1 Iren tni|iuxoed.
n»« n»y U> IriHi," waa th. qub h rUiwt.
'Irat )u»*ica «wup^a the Urerraibia that
A DIPLOMAT’S DINNER,
A 1*1»in and Cheap Uanquet Where Every-
b'Mly Was Extremely Well I* I eased.
Some yearn ago an acoompliithed diplo
mat© at Washington, the representative
of a power not of the first importance,
expressed his regi«‘t to a fri«*nd that he
could not give dinners, “because,” he
said, “mv government is poor, and I
cannot afford it.” The conversation oc
curred at the profuse and splendid table
of a rich and courteous host, whose feasts
were of great fame, and whose invita
tions w«‘i e credentials of admission to the
best society. A young diplomatic cctn-
rade who sat by heard the remark, and
smiled as he said: "My government is
poorer than yours, and 1 um but lately
arrived. But what is diplomacy without
dinners? and I am going to give one. It
will not be like this, but the splendor is
not an essential [»art of the feast. 1 shall
give a plain and ( heap dinner, to which
I invite you ix>th.’’
His manner was gay, and bis in vita
tion was gayly and gladly accepted b«u
cans«» he was one >f the delightful ui» n
in Washington. 11 is colleague, however,
who had spoken first, shrugged tus
shoulders, and said that, fot his ¡»art. be
couhln’t doit; he couldn’t ask |>eople to
come to his house and eat a poor dinner.
••N«»t so fast. ’ replied his friend; “I
didn't sav a [M«>r dinner, but a [»lain and
cheap dinner. 1 ho[>e it will be go«»d,
nevertheless, although there may lie no
baked carp or stewed nightingalea*
ton gut's. But come and see. ”
The young minister of the small and
poor kingdom was one of tho most ac
complished men in Washington He waa
known to have connected a justice of the
Biipremo court in regard to a decision of
u United Stub's court in a western state,
and to have made tho correction in Eng
lish, which was a foreign tongue to him,
hut in English ho exquisitely chosen and
urbanely expressed that tho justice was
probably unconscious of th«* mortification
of tho correction. The young minister
had no foolish, fond reserves. “My gov
ernment is [Mxir, I am [xxir, we uro all
poor m my country.” he said, “und I
and my w'eretary work like duy laborers
here in Washington to ne<pure and to re-
port n«vess;iry information to my gov
ernment.’’ I’ut nobody was m<»re sought;
there was nolxaly whose coming more
surely brought pleasure to any circle
than that of tho young minister.
Tho duy of the dinner came, and a
plainer ami pleasanter dinm-r was never
known in Washington. Every guest,
from tho seen tary of state ami die Eng
lish envoy to ail their neighljors ut table,
gave every week, intk'ed, repasts much
more magnificent. But the simple din
ner, admirably cooked and served, with
out display of tab!«* w*rvicc, without the
carp and nightingales' tongues, but with
the enlivening und inspiring charm of
the ho*t and tho welcome variety of
plainness, Utter th«» luxurious extrava
gance and ostentation of the usual din
ner. was ho fn*sh and delightful that the
HutiNfaclion and pleasure were universal,
and the skeptical colleague who had
thought great coat es«entim to u succe«-
ful dinner owned hiinflelf converted, and
the next month ventured u ] m > ii a similar
feast, uni with the same success.—
George William Curtis in Haqier's Muga
zine.
Lifting h Thousand round«.
To lift 1.000 pound* on the health lift
Is no very remarkable feat for u jtereon
<>f average strength, giving sufficient
thm daily for a few month* to practice.
Mr lllaikie learned in this way at the
ag < f 17. to lift I 000 [»ounde after only
hix months' practice. Tliono who pref r
to lift an actually mcaauied weight will
find it necetwary to adopt Nome such plan
a* wan employed by Topham. preparing
a framework to Iwur the weight and
standing in iln midst, ho aa to lift the
weight by mean* of Hymnit tricaJly at*
tachvd BtrajiH. F< r the body cannot.
wh<*u at all aslant, I»*ar tiuch a weight ua
1,000 | h mnd*.
Whether such exercize in good for the
body uh a whol • depend© a good deal on
the oppurtunitiee which a num has for
correcting an abnormal development of
th- lifting m uncles by meana of other ex
ert ¡nos, increasing the development of
other iuimc I m and giving activity an well
qh strength to the frame.—Richard A.
Proctor.
Georgia'» and < Irrassian.
Th© Georgian lias a beauty quit© differ
ent from that of the Cifcaarian. TheCir«
caaMian is dazzling, queen lik< an«I stately.
She I ihh a fuir skin. Hho is elegant in
form She 1« kindly an<l gentle in voice,
but lazy in movi»rnent an«l without spirit.
Onp of her own sex ban an id : ‘‘There is
no »u»uI in a CuTHtehin beauty; und as
she pillow s lier pur«*, jmle dieek uixin her
small dimphxi hand, you fw»l no inclina
tion to arouwe her into exertion; you are
contented to look upon her and to con-
template her 1«>veiln«*«*».” The Georgian
i* • creature with ovea like meteors and
teeth almout ax dazzling ns her eyes. Her
mouth d««vi not w« ar tlie sweet and un
ceasing Hinde of her teas vivacious rival.
But the prom I expremion that sits U|»on
finely arched lips areorda so well with
her stately form and lofty brow that you
do not seek to change ila character.—
Ilorno Journal.
Origin »»i < olor Ullndnrss.
Ths'it the origin of color blindncMi lie©
in the brain, and not in th© eye. has beM
MggcNted by Pr<»fí*^or Ramsay. Whil©
engxgtd in teaching in Brooklyn some
years ago. tlie prm«*i[sd of a school in-
Misted hi tr'iiting ev» ry case of the sort
as dependent on tlu* will of th© pupil.
His remedy waa tl>© rod. This certainly
leemel a tyrannical and unwarranted
treatment, but the result WHH favor a bio
to his tlMXjry. Is it MMaihl© that a thor
ough examination will ultimately demon
strate that tlie fault lies very largely in
the hhiftD-Ms methorls of obaervatfaMl
which liave grown up under tlie old
classical sysU’in of education, and which
have U>a large extent tacuoi© hereditary?
—Science.
IhK r.mteet l«»iM»ry of Vodla.
AU kiivhof
oremivl.
of brown Migar, many of 1| m M inoldwl
into varuxt.
of I4r*l< and l^aatn.
Tul«-, al-' ar» iiuab-, filled with honey,
and tainted into iiui 'Ux fortn*. Then
there ara bull, of augar and < luriUed but-
Ur. Tlu-w oonfectioo. riea are writ and
. i
. »
re»«
• *• - •«•