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ENNUI.
As tli is is a ilny when slothful time
Drafts onward with laggard feet,
I’ll venture upon a hit of rhyme,
And see it 'twill fly more licet.
I’ve rend and worked, embroider!ed and talked,
Engaged in tenuis game;
The length of the lone piazzas walked;
But everything ends Urn same.
It is wearisome gazing thro’ space
At the drifting wreaths of mist,
Bike a euKaln .’er the mountain’s face
Which at worn tlie sunlight kissed.
There’s Belle, of whom all the beaux are fond,
Equipped for a hnckboard ride :
She’s liven invited to X'ehble Pond
By that young prig at her side.
Who never disputes her sovereign will!
Although she's demure and coy,
She governs without genius or skill,
And plays with him like a toy
There was never a chapeau, so sweet
As the one that crowns her head!
The boots that encase her dainty feet
Cost fifteen dollai’S—’tis said:
But bonnets and boots and buckboard rides—
And everything else to-day
From Bernstein’s waltzes to Lander’s glides—
My spirits fail to make gay.
Then since the whole creation seems dull,
It is plain as plain can be.
That the reason that no pleasures I cull,
Is all because of ennui.
- Evelyn Kimball Johnson.
A GOOD STORY.
A Broken-Legged Man Stands Small
Chance Against a Bloodhound.
From the .Veu' York Sun.
In crossing the Strand, London, I dodged
the pole of one vehicle just in time to be
struck by the shafts of another, and, as the
pavement was slippery, I went down, and
the vehicle went over me, breaking my left
leg below the knee. An hour later I was in
my bachelor apartments (the work of the
surgeon finished), and feeling that I ought
to be thankful to have come off with my
life. I was in for a siege of many weeks,
and I had some business which must be at
tended to by an outsider. Therefore, after
a day or two, I sent for Capt. Jack
Williams, an old acquaintance. He an
swered promptly enough, and we soon
made very satisfactory arrangements. He
was a bluff, honest fellow, out of active
service, and having nothing to do, and the
only unpleasant feature about his friendship
was the fact of his owning a monster Rus
sian bloodhound. The brute was his shadow.
Where the dog could not go the Captain
would not go. He refused all parties anil
receptions because of the dog. He refrained
from excursions by land or sea because he
would be temporarily separated from Czar,
as he called the animal. The pair were well
known in London, and the Captain was as
safe at midnight in the slums as any other
man would be in the Strand at noonday.
One glance at the dog was enough to show
that he was as dangerous as a tiger. He
made no friends either among dogs or men,
and had miraculously escaped a dozen well
laid traps to firing about his death.
I hated Czar, and on two or three occa
sions I had reason to believe that the feeling
was returned. When the Captain called
and found me laid up, he had sense enough
to that the presence of the brute
might annoy me, and he therefore shut him
up in the servant's room for a few minutes.
The dog was usually prompt in obedience.
On this occasion he obeyed" in a grudging,
sulky manner, and before lea'ving the room
threatened me so plainly that I became ap
prehensive. The Captain agreed that Czar
should not enter my sick room again, and
.in a couple of weeks I had forgotten all
alxitif the incident.
I had apartments on the second floor,
three rooms in a row, with a hall along the
front of tha last two. The first room was
for my servant, a man who had been with
me for many years. The next was the re
ception room, and the third my sleeping
room. One coming down the hall could
enter at the door of either room. The bed
room and reception room were connected,
but the servant’s room was entirely shut off
It was a hot day in August, with” all doors
and windows open, I was feeling pretty
smart, although the pain was
considerable, and a couple of my
friends had just departed, after
a brief call, when Henry, my servant, came
in to see what he could do for me. I was flat
on my back, as you know, with no chance
to turn over on account of the leg, but I had
him prop me up with two or three pillows.
I then sent him for ice. He had but a few
stops to go, and the doors were left open be
hind him. He had been gone about free
minutes when in walked Capt. Williams’
Russian blood-hound. I shouldn’t have said
walked; on the contrary, he came running
in, head up, tongue out, and his eyes as red
as live coals. I saw him the moment he
entered, and it passed through my brain
like a flash that he was mad.
The door leading into the hall was opened.
Twice as the dog circled around the room
he seemed on the point of going out, but
each time changed his mind, whined in an
uneasy >vay, and then continued his circling.
He did not look for me nor at me. It was a
large room, with the bed against the wall,
ana from the way the bmte bumped against
the chairs I believed he was nearly blind.
He hod been with me two or three minutes
when the hall door was caught by a draught
of wind and slowly pulled to. It did
not quite shut. The dog noticed the
movement, sprang to get out, and
the result was that ho pushed the door shut
and snapped the spring lock. The door lead
ing into the reception room was still open,
but the door from that into the hail was
shut. The animal rushed into this room,
upset a chair and bumped the table, and
then came back whining, his tail down and
liis courage gone, and slunk under my bed.
That the dog was suffering with hydro
phobia there could be no doubt. As he re
turned from the reception room there wus
foam on his jaws, and he was so weak he
staggered.
Had I been a well man and fully armed
my situation would have been bad enough.
There I was, perfectly helpless, locked in
with the brute, and knowing it might be
hours before death came to him. My
servant hail a key to the door, and when he
returned he would open it and walk in.
There was not the slightest question but
that the dog would at once attack him. I
had two or three minutes in which to think,
and it was wonderful how clear-headed I
was. I looked upon my own chances as
hopeless, and therefore determined that
when Henry returned I would call out to
him before he got the door open. I was
also concerned for fear the dog would get
out of the building. It was a crowded
neighborhood, and he might bite a score of
people before ho was destroyed.
It is said that the presence of a great dan
ger sharpens the sense of hearing. I believe
th Is to be true, for I have had several |>er
soiul experiences. As I lay there wuiting
for my servant to return I plainly heard
sounds which could not hav e come to my
euisi under ordinary circumstances. At the
foot of the second flight of stab's, a distance
of fully 70 feet from my bed, Henry was
stopped by a young man who lodged on that
floor. I heard him say:
"I was wuiting here to tell you that Capt.
Williams’ brute of a dog passed up stairs a
short, time ago. Is the Captain there?”
"He was not there when I left."
■‘And he has not come in alter the dog.
The animal bail a scaly look, and you'd
better be careful how you drive him out."
“Thanks, sir: I’ll hurry right up.”
I heard my nian oomo upstairs and along
the lin.il. As soon as he saw that my bed
room door was shut he seemed to suspect
/the worst, and he acted like a hero. He
came down the hall on tip-toe, put his face
close to the door, and sang out:
■‘Colonel, I know the big dog is in your
room, and I um going for help. Ir he
conies near you shut your eyes and pretend
to be dead.
The sound of his voice put the dog into a
frenzy. He growled and snarled and
Nnnpjied, and as the man hurried down the
hail the beasl rushed from under the bed
wbtli a dreadful howl aud began rushing
urouud llietvom os bvfoia Alter making
the circle of the bedroom four or five times,
lie dashed into the reception room. There
ho quite overtmjped the centre table, and in
jus fury he wrenched off a leg with Ins
teeta and destroyed the upholstering of the
sofa. [ was terribly excited, and hid 1
given way to ray feelings I should have
screamed out like a woman. I shut my
eyes tightly, braced ray nerves by chiding
myself for a coward, and when the
climax came I was fairly ready for
it. 1 knew that the dog would sooner or
later turn to me, and as he left the reception
room he was on the foot of the bed in two
bounds. There was an open book lying
there, and he seized and worried this for a
moment. Then came walking tip to my
jaee, bearing his full weight on my broken
vl u lld F ;vu me intense pain. My arms
and hands were on the cover, and the foam
from his mouth fell upon my bare flesh. He
put both paws on my chest, and ran bis
nose over my face to snuff at me, and he
was ail the time snarling and whining in
away to take the nerve a wav from the stout
est mail.
I don’t know whether ho would have bit
ten me or not, could I have remained quiet,
but such a thing as holding my nerves
steady for over a minute was utterly impos
sible. I was feeling that I must throw up
Jii y hands and scream out when the beast
leaped off the bed. He had heard people in
the liall. He ran about the room whining
and snapping, and all at once made a spring
for the door of the reception room, which
was being shut to by human hands. A space
j or ieehes wide was left, and when trio
dog attempted to push his head into this,
a couple of bullets were fired into him,
and he backed out to fall dead. Henry
had summoned two policemen, and while
the brute stood over me on the bed the
faithful servant had entered the reception
room and pushed the door as nearly shut as
they wanted it, having believed that the dog
would behave just as he did. That Czar was
suffering with hydrophobia none could
doubt from his looks and conduct. Inside
of twenty days two house dogs which he had
snapped at as he came up went mad, and
then there was no further question that I
had had a close shave from a horriblo death.
DANCING THE HULA HULA.
The Forbidden Pleasure of the Sand
wich Islanders.
From the San Francisco Examiner.
I was invited by a native chief, whose ac
quaintance I had formed, to go with him to
witness a real hula huia, a geuuine dance of
the good old time. I eagerly accepted his
kindness, and at 9 o’clock one beautiful
evening we started for the rendezvous, a na
tive house, grass thatched, and with walls of
slendor canework. Arriving there we en
tered a large room, on the floor of which a
number of native spectators lay stretched
on soft mats. Room was made for us,
and we had hardly taken our seats before
a curtain, which Was stretched at the far
end of the room, was drawn, and the enter
tainment commenced. First, the musicians
entered and sat down on one end of the
stage, which was simply a large thick mat,
on three sides of which "reclined the specta
tors. The music consisted of six drums,
three large and three small. The large ones
were enormous calabashes, the heads of
which wore covered with tightly drawn
skins; the small ones were cpcoaiiut shells
covered in the sime manner.
The leader, a sprightly dame of 70 sum
mers, was a very important personage, as it
was her business to direct the performance
by the expression of her face and tlie action
of her hands. Suddenly a strange chant
was raised, accompanied by a beating of the
drums in perfect time.
This gradually died awav, and two more
musiciaas appeared holding long sticks,
from which they elicited clear notes In
striking them with shorter ones. These took
places behind the rest of the orchestra, and
After them, all dancing in a row,
Tiie comely virgins came with garlands bright,
All fresh as flowers.
Ten girls, fantastically dressed, with scarfs
bound round their waists and crowned with
garlands of flowers and with wreaths of
gardenias around their wrists and ankles,
made their way, with slow and graceful
movements, to the edge of the stage, on
which they sank just as the music ceased.
Some of these girls were beautiful and had
softly molded limbs and figures of extreme
grace. At a tap of the drum they raised
themselves to their knees and commenced a
wild song, to which they at first beat time
with a clapping of their hands. Gradually
this changed into the most expressive pan
tomime. The sticks and drums took up the
measure; arms, hands and even fingers
spoke a torrent of words with a precision
that the best-drilled ballet troupe
could never attain. The body
swayed back and forward, the slightest mo
tion to the right or left by one being re
peated by all. Something snakelike and
repulsive, anon seductive and pleasing, un
til finally a wild tossing of the arms, fol
lowed by a low wail, proclaimed the end of
the story, to the evident discomfiture of the
maiden and the triumph of the lover. Dur
ing the interval required for rest, a very
intricate performance was gone through by
four men and four women, who sat opposite
and close to one another. Each held a bam
boo about two feet long and split at the end
into strips. When stmek together they
made a most peculiar sound, which formed
the accompaniment to the song.
A distinct rhythm was kept up all the time
by the bamboos, and as their sound began
to get somewhat monotonous loud cries were
raised for the “hula.” The dancers now
formed a circle. Each held a small cala
bash ornamented with feathers and with
seeds inside, so that it could be used as a
tambourine or rattle. Slowly the ring be
gins to circle round, hands and feet keeping
time in a majestic, formal fashion. Soon
they quickened their ste| and the sharp
rattle keeps up a running fire, with now
and then a deep boom from the big drum.
The circle widens, aud just as with wild
grace the dancei-s reach the inner row of
spectators the music ceases and thoy throw
themselves down on the ground, leaving
two of their number standing in the centre.
After a puuse the music and singing begin
again, and as they boeomp more passionate
so does the dancing of the pair become more
intoxicating and abandoned. Others join
them, each pair working ontthe old story of
coquetry, jealousy and the final surrender of
the mniilen accoiding to their own taste and
ideas. Soft, swaying movements, and a
gentle turning away, timid glances and
startled gestures gradually give place to
more rapturous passions. The excitement
of the dance inspires them to fi-esh and more
rapid evolutions until exhausted nature can
stand no more, and they drop fainting on
their cushions.
Romantic Story From Army Life.
From the Missouri Republican.
An army officer is quoted as telling a most
romantic story of u brother officer, who
graduated with him from West Point many
years ago. Shortly afterward this friend
married a prettv girl, and for a time things
went smoothly,"but John Barleycorn, who
has killed more soldiers than have ever
fallen in battle, got 'he best of him and he
went to the dogs rapidly. Finally he threw
up his position in the army, deserted las
young wife and for years nothing was heard
of him. At last news came to the ixjor
woman that the worthless wretch was dead,
and after a time she marriod another officer
and they moved out to his station at one
of the far Western posts. In the
meantime it seems that her first hus
band was not dead, but, after years of de
bauchery and wandering, reformed. He
then liecan to moke inquiries for the woman
he had deserted. Nothing was known of
her, and after a long and fruitlem search he
was forced to the conclusion that she had
given Up the struggle. He came to M ash
iiurton, where. through the assistance of
somto Influential friends, lie procured an ap
pointment in the army. Then, believing
himself free, he married again and took his
wife to the frontier post to which he was nr
dcitvi —the same at which his first wife was
living. The meeting, the shock of mutual re
cognition, the deep shame of the tenable sit
uation, is something to which no pen can do
lustier. What were they to do? Ihe ques
tion lms not yet reached a satisfactory sot
tiemeoL.
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, JUNE 19, 1887-TWELVE PAGES.
TAM O’SHANTER.
The Legend of the “Dead Lands” and
Recent Ghostly Manifestations.
A letter to the Louisville Courier-Journal
from Russellville, Ky., says: Loguu county
for several months past seems to have been
the favored field for the operations of su
pernatural agencies. The fii’st manifesta
tion sufficient to cause any alarm was at the
humble dwelling of Mr. J. H. Gildewall,
which nestled among the hills of “Coon
range.” So persistent was the ghost or
spook that the unf< irtunoto inmates of the
little home were forced to leave and seek
other shelter, but even in their now quarters
they were harassed well nigh to distraction,
until finally the seemingly or really spiritual
happenings ceased as suddenly as they had
liegun, his ghostsliip leaving no record of its
race and no history of its country. But
that it had been there aud ite presence made
painfully manifest the best men of that sec
tion will testify, and that its fame extended
far and near aiid that on its account that
whole country-side was aroused to the
highest pitch of excitement the whole
county will bear witness.
Ana now from the southern borders of
the country comes a tale of ghostly visita
tions thrilling and gruesome beyond concep
tion. Not far from where the Clarksville
and Mason’s Mill roads intersect each othor
there lies a strip of low. moldy land ano ut a
mile in width and three miles long, the
greater part of which is covered with water
to the depth of from six inches to two fret. It
is full of dangerous quagmires and is known
by the suggestive name of Dead Lands. On
its eastern side, some two miles from the
road leading to Springfield, Tenn., there
stands ail old, oild-looking stone structure
which has the appearance of having been
built a century. Tne tradition is—and it is
generally accepted as true —that many years
ago when civilization in this section of the
country was in its infancy, the land which
is now mostly under water and several feet
below the surrounding country- was a
beautifully wooded plain covered with
magnificent forest trees. No s]*ot was
more inviting or beautifully situated,
as then it was as much .above the sur
rounding country as it is now below it.
Upon this spot a"party of emigrants from
the busy and burdened East stopped their
train aud pitched their tents, finally con
cluding to remain. Among them was a man
who professed to have had a divine revela
tion ; in winch he was told that to him and
all who should believe in him and accept his
teachings should be given the power to
triumph over death, and that when the
allotted time on earth should end they
would be transported, soul and body, to a
land of immortal youth. He was
tne leader, as he was the father
confessor, of the flock which he had
gathered around them. By his efforts aud
under his directions there was built the rude,
though substantial, stone building before re
ferred to, in which each night and morning
they were wont to worship. The building is
low aud narrow, and in one end are still to
be seen the. crumbling remains of what ap
peal’s to have been a rude altar. Just inside
the doorway in im arch cut out of solid
stone hangs a massive Igazen bell, which of
all the ancient pile seems to have stood best
the ravages of time. After a few years,
passed chiefly in holy duties, there suddenly
descended upon the strange band a calamity
so dire as to leave in its wake a wreck to
stand for all time as a warning to future
generations. While they were engaged one
evening at their accustomed devotional ex
ercises there commenced a low, rambling
sound, the stone building began to quiver
and rock from side to side like a storm
tossed vessel. Seized with terror, the wor
shipers fled panic-stricken from the place.
The shock ceased after a while, only to be
succeeded later on by another, and
then another, throughout the night.
When day dawned a terrible sight met the
gaze. Ail vegetable growth was dead and
parched, as if it had been visited by a severe
drought. The trees which yesterday had
been waving in full pride of summer ver
dure were almost completely stripped of
their foliage and were withered and dying.
The church, though severely shaken, was
still intact, but leaned considerably from its
natural position. The primitive dwellings,
which had been hastily constructed of logs,
were totally demolished, and the stricken
colony, sickened with the sight, departed as
suddenly and silently as they had come,
The surface of the earth had fallen so much
duriDg the shocks that it now formed a
shallow basin instead of a raised plain as
before.
Thus much for the tradition: whether or
not it is all true I do not know, nor does any
other living man, but evidence of the truth
of a part of it at least remains, of which
there can be no doubt. There is the strange
old building and the wide expanse of marsh
and mire, in which the oldest inhabitant
has seen no particle of vegetation grow, and
in which stand the naked, dead tree-trunks,
with gleaming arms outstretches! like an
army of spectres. This much at least is
true, however it may have been brought
about.
The nearest residence to the “Dead Lands”
is that of Mr. Gado Lee Bailpy, than whom
no man stands higher in this county, and
whose word is considered as good as his
bond. About two weeks ago he had been
detained in Adairville rather late at night
anil arrived at home shortly before mid
night. He had been to the bam to put up
his horse, and was walking slowly toward
the house when he was startled by the peal
of a bell, distant, clear, puul following peal
in regular and mournful cadence. Know
ing that the nearest church was seven miles
distant and that the tones were too full und
deep for a farm bell, his curiosity was
aroused, and after listening a few
moments he determined to investigate
the matter. Going to the stable, he
saddled a fresh horse and started off in the
direction whence the sound of the bell pro
ceeded. After riding slowly for some min
utes, he became conscious of the fact that lie
was going in the direction of the “Deal
Lands.” Immediately it occurred to him
that it must be the old bell in the stone
church, though lie had lived there over
thirty years un i had never known it to lie
rung before. Ills approach to the edge of
the swamp lav through a dense wood, and
when he reached the opening that gave a
view of the old church, the scene which
met Lis vision was one well calculated to
chill the bravest heart. Standing near the
edge of the swamp, the church is only about
150 yards distant, the inside of the building
being plainly visible through the open door
way. The church was filled with a fierce
roil light which streamed through the open
windows and out on the black water of the
swamp. Grouped in front of the stone
altar were a dozen, or perhaps more, figures
which Mr. Bailey was wholly unable to
describe intelligently. Front imperfect
description, however, it they
were dressed in long, gar
ments which clung closely to skaflkon forms.
The tacos of tlie figures were from
view by black hoo.ls which reuehi‘®L>vni to
tlie shoulders. All of tlie body was
visible were the long floshlosspiger^ex
tended beyond the sleeves of
Lying near the altar on what appeared to tie
a stone table lay a figure dressed a* the
others, except entirely in white, and per
fectly motionless. While he st< >od gazing in
awful fascination upon the strange and un
natural scene, the figures stretched out their
arms over the prostrate form and lagan to
move them slowly back and forth, keeping
time to the mournful tolling of the church
bell, and then commenced to move slowly in
a circle around the table. When they liad
completed the circuit the third time, they
suddenly stopped, and, as if by a precon
certed movement, knelt about the table.
Then the l>ell ceased tolling and simultaneous
ly the light was oxthiguished and the silence
of ■ tenth reigned o-rer the scene. Mr. Bailey
says that up b> this (time hejhad suoowxted
in ”011 trolling his non**, but as the light
went our he wheeled and dashed through the
woods at lireak neck speed. Ho reached
home in safety, however, and related what
hal passed to his wife. At first she refused
to lielieve him and attributed it to a de
rangement of his nerves, but when he
bat-lime so earnest she was compelled, as all
others have been whom lie has told, to accept
what he Said a* tlie solemn truth. They
tbqught beat not to apeak of the
matter at once, however, for fear
of being laughed at, but it
weighed so on their miuds that flnaiiv they
told one or two in confidence, which of
course secured its liberal advertisement, and
now it is the talk of the whole country.
The place which heretofore was hardly ever
thought of is now visited daily hy crowds of l
tiie curious and incredulous, anil the ghoul
disturbed district is all agog with excite
ment. Others heard the tolling of the bell,
but were not sufficiently interested to do as
Mr. Bailey did, or doubtless they would
have had a similar experience.
The question seems to be, was it or not the
work of the supernatural >. with public opin
ion largely favorable to the affirmative
theory. If, on the other hand, it wus the
work of human hands, what was their pur
pose, and how did they get out to the church
through the quagmire? Since the news has
got abroad the roads near the swamp are
shunned as if it wore a pestilence, and the
negroes in the neighborhood cannot be in
duced ty go out at all after dark. Nothing
that ever occurred in the county has
equaled it in point of supernatural mysteri
ousness, and the “Ghosts of the Deal
Lands” are talked of in every household.
GEORGE \V. CABLE.
A Talk With Him After His Address at
Vanderbilt University.
From the Nashville American.
Last night after the close of Mr. Cable's
remarkable lecture, which will give the
poople who heard him an elevated line of
thought for the remainder of their lives,
the quiet, slightly-built man of letters sat
over a lunch of milk and bread at Chancel
lor Garland's residence on the Uni verity
campus. He was talkative and affable and
responded to the queries of a reporter with
readiness and interest. His conversation
and bearing was that of a man of lovable
nature, extraordinary intellect, refinement
of character and mental cultivation.
“The whole burden of my speech to
night,” said he, “was to show that tins idea
of danger to public order and private
society from a supremacy of the masses,
that the negro would use "a full civil liberty
for the destruction of social order, is fal
lacious.”
“How do you explain this prejudice of the
New Orleans people toward you:”
“By the profound feeling, ’’ I say, “that
rublie order is in danger by the sentiments
advocate.”
Said Chancellor Garland, who was listen
ing attentively: “I hope, Mr. Cable, that
you will write out this address to vindicate
yourself from the accusations of the social
equality idea which has erroneously been
accredited to you.”
Continuing, Mr. Cable said: “1 advocate
tilings and changes people are afraid to
make.”
“You believe the negro is not given his
rights?”
| “Why, of course, he is not. Did you ever
see one that said lie liad
“But about that New Orleans prejudice.
The Creole idea in New Orleans is not the
real reason of their feeling. I have not been
unfaithful in my delineation of the Creole
poople, and they all know it—those, at
least, who have read what 1 have written
about them. Rut we are going a long ways
round to account for a tiling. We simply
see that whoever professes to disturb their
status quo comes into conflict with public
sentiment.”
“What is the Southern question you re
ferred to in your lecture ?”
“It is simply the question of the full and
equal ar.d impersonal American civil rights
by blacks and whites alike.”
“What part must literatuq| do?”
“Well, this: that is a question no longer
partisan. Civil rights lias lieen aoroptod by
Democrats and Republicans alike. It is a
suppressed question in politics, and one that
has been relegated to the people. My own
work shall be toward establishing peace
and harmony, which I claim will not
produce confusion of rare. It is not
necessary as a cause, nor will not
result as an effect. All the confusion < f races
in human history has come from oppres
sion from above, hot below. I think I shall
write two or three short papers on these va
rious points. My ‘Silent South’ is a too
sustained work. You might say I cannot
divine how anybody could impute to a sane
mind the advocacy of what is known as so
cial equality. And yet. that is the accusa
tion against ‘The Silent South.’ 1 say there
that it is a fool’s dreiun, and yet they turn
right round and say 1 advocate it.”
“Why do you persist in following up this
subject?”
“I do not. Everybody knows the subject
itself will not down.”
“You shoot high,” it was suggested.
“A man must either be leader of thought
or of men. If the former, he cannot wait
for men to keep up with him. If I propose
to lead thought, I have got nothing to do
with tlie alignment. I don’t- hojje for any
great effect upon any large numbers. I
look to the intelligent lew. It isn’t the
undermass. And there is where the hojie of
the thing comes in.”
“Why did you leave New Orleans!”
“I have a rigid to go without criticism
from one State to another and transfer my
citizenship. But even if I devoted myself
to Louisiana and the Southern States, I
can serve them just as well from New Eng
land as from Louisiana. I thought it well,
having lieen familiar with Southern affairs
during all tlie impressionable years < we
life, to study the aspect from a distiur
also. Also to cotne into close contact wn
other sections and get comparative views. ’
“Did you experience uncongenial per
sonal relations in New Orleans?”
“That wasn't one of my ideas at all—not
at all,” earnestly—“in moving. My wife's
healtli aud my own superior working power
wore tin- inducements. My own search of
the more congenial personal surroundings
didn’t enter into my calculations. I had a
throng of friends in New Orleans and was
deeply interested in all the relations of life
there.”
Tragedy.
/. V. lice* in Macmillan's Magazine.
Around Kazeroon are many beautiful
orange gardens, and in one of those, a short
time before my visit, occurred a tragedy
which will bring home to my readers the
state of the criminal law in Persia. Two
village!'* quarreled and one, in the heat of
the moment, smote the other on the head
with his spack. There was no homicidal in
tention but the injured man died. The
Koran claims an eye for an eye and a tooth
for a tooth, and the Koran is the penal code
as well us the Bible of an orthodox Moslem
State; but blood money may lie, and almost
alwuys is, accepted as satisfaction by the
relations of the deceased. The father of
this villager, however, declined to recoivu
money and insisted on the offender's death.
The Governor in doubt, referred the ease to
his superior at Shiraz, who. after the usual
references to the Mol labs (or high priests),
replied that the law of Hod must lx* carried
into effect. This some what oracular answer
left mutters, as was doubtless its intention,
still in the discretion of the Governor; ana
he, to get out of the diffiulty, gave his oxe
cutioneix a holiday and told the father of
the deceased that In their absence he could
not carry the law into effect. The father
replies! that this was no obstacle, for he
would himself carry out the law. Had he
thrice ret used treble the legal blood money,
and should his son’s murderer go free?
After this there was nothing more to lie
said. The unfortunate homicide, with the
fatalism of a Mussulman, sat down lieneath
an orange tree and smoked his last pip*,
while his ouemy 1/rought two farrasbe* of
the Governor to dig tils grave. On their
arrival the victim put awuy bis pine and wit
still while the father of tbs man be slew in
the heat of paMion judicially out his throat.
A horrible stony that I would not believe
but that I had it from sources that left no
doubt of it* truth. In the territories of the
other great Mussulman power such an oc
currence as this would be impossible. A
more reforming and less fanatical spirit has
largely mollified the criminal law of the
Koran In the Ottoman Empire; while the
civil law, os therein administered, in as com
plex and procrastinating a iy.>tem as civil
lzattewwurtiwvwo.
STARTLING STATISTICS.
The Civil War’s Cost in Human Lives-
Most Destructive Ever Waged.
From a Washington Special.
I heard one of tho young generation say
ing he was a little tired of hearing contin
ually, and especially every year, about
Memorial uuy, of the immense sacrifice of
lives and treasure made by the people in the
great civil war and all that. The tone im
plied that it was not such a terrible thing
after all, and was rather small potatoes as
wars go. It is well enough to freshen up
the minds of the boys as to the facts of that
wn r, and what it cost their fathers. It takes
but few figures to show that it was one of
the greatest and most momentous wars ever
waged among civilized people, and taking
into consideration it. length, the most de
structive, cost ly and murderous ever waged.
Most of the famous wars of ancient his
tory that the young men pore over in Latin
ami Greek were not very great wars after
all, compared with that fought out by their
fathers for the salvation of the American
republic.
Look over these dreadful figures, young
man, and consider the awful significance of
the following facts:
Official returns show that about 3,901,000
soldiers enlisted during the war in response
to the successive calls of Ib’esident Lincoln,
and that of this number 180,098 were colored
troops.
Reiiorts show that the Northern and
Southern armies met in over 3,000 skirm
ishes and battles. In 148 of these conflicts
the lass on the Federal side was over 500
men, and in at least 10 battles over 10.000
men were reiKirtod lost on euch side. The
appended to file shows that the combined
losses of the Federal and Confederate forces
in rilled, wounded and missing, in the fol
lowing engagements were:
Shiloh, 34,000; Antietain, 38,000: Stone
river, 87,000; ChancellorsviUe, 38,000; Get
tysburg, 54,000; Chic! amauga, 83.000; Mc-
Clellan's peninsula campaign, 180,000, and
Grant’s peninsula campaign, 135,000.
Official statistics show that of the 3,000,-
000 men enlisted, there were killed in batUo
44,836; died of wounds, 49,305; died of dis
ease, 186,318; died of unknown causes, 34,-
184; total. 303,848. This includes only those
whose dentil while in the army had heen
actually proven. To this number should be
added, first, 30,000 men who are known to
bave died while in the hands of the enemy
as prisoners of war, and many others in the
some milliner whose death< are unrecorded;
second, a fair percentage of the 805,794 men
who are put on the official reports as desert
ers and Kissing in action, for those win*
participated in tlie war know that men fre
quently disappear who, it was certain, had
not deserted, yet could not be otherwise
officially accounted for; third, thousands
who are buried in private cemeteries all over
the North who died while at homo on fur
lough.
The nation's dead are buried in 73 national
cemeteries, of which only 13 are in the
Northern States. Among tho principal ones
in the North are Cypress Hill, with its 3,786
dead; Finn’s Point, N. J., which contains
the remains of 3,614 unknown dead;'Gettys
burg, Pa., with its 1,967 known and 1,608
unknown dead; Mound City T ANARUS, 111., with 3,505
known and 3,731 unknown graves: Philadel
phia, W’ith 1,969 dead, and YVoodlawn,
Elmira, N. Y., with its 3,900 deed.
In the South, near the scenes of terrible
conflicts, are located the largest depositories
of the nation’s (load;
Total. Unknown.
Arlington, Va 16,36-4 4,319
Beaufort, 8. C 9,341 4,493
Ohalmetta, La 12,511 6,(174
Chattanooga, Tenn 12,062 4,968
Fredericksburg. Va 15.257 12,770
Jefferson Barracks, Mo 11,490 2,900
IJttle Rook. Ark 5.002 2.337
City Point, Va 5,122 1,374
Marietta, (la 10,151 2,968
Memphis, Tenn 18.997 8,617
Nashville. Tenn 16,526 4,700
Poplar Grove, Va 6,190 4,001
Richmond, Va 6,54# 5,7(3)
Salisbury. N. C 12,126 12,082
Stone River, Tenn 5,603 268
Vicksburg, Miss 16,000 12,704
Antietain, Va 4,971 1,818
Winchester, Vo 4,559 2,365
lu all, tho remains of 300,000 men who
fought for the stars and stripes find guarded
graves in our national cemeteries. Two
cemeteries are mainly devoted to the brave
men who perished in the prisons of the same
mime— Andersonvllle, (4a., which contains
13,714 graves, and Salisbury, with its 13,186
dead, of whom 13,033 are unknown.
Of the vast number who are interred in
our national Cemeteries 275,000 sleep beneath
the soil of Southern States, and 145,000 rest
in graves marked unknown.
The total number of men furnished to tho
Federal army by the United States during
the war under ail calls was 2,688,533. The
total number of colored troops in the North
ern army was 133.156. The heaviest loss by
disease was suffered by the colored troops;
while, but 3,997 died in action and of
wounds, tlie enormously large number of
36,804 died of disease. Among the white
troops tin- proportion of deaths in action and
from wounds to the deaths from disease was
about as I to 3; among the colored troops as
Ito 8. <)f the colored troops enlisted 1 out
of every 7 died of disease. The projiortion
turning the white troops was I to 15.
Now, that w<-are brushing up these fig
ures, it will t>c well enough to remember
bow many men were furnished by a to
st,ate, ami tfc ’ following list will Orphan*.
I* lu'midnod s, wif.,t iffi you think
of these fatherless and motherless little
ones! No hand at home to take core of their
ipparel, no heart to pity them. Said one
Dg one, when tlie mother died: “Who
y ew )ke care of my clothes now!” Thelit-
New .Pare thrown out in this great, cold
Peimsylvawy are shivering on the brink
Dele ware. the verge of a precipice. Does
Maryland ’ run cold as they go over.it!
m“('olu^. her that come on
0j,!,, jce. They are the chll-
Indiuna.... . (rents. They are worse
Illinois ;*ok at that pale cheek;
Michigan * at that gash across
Wiscdiwin -*r struck it. Hear
siZwuri Vnd we come out
Kentucky ............... . .peeledaud blis-
Konsas you.” “Too
“The path
Total . . n’t stop.
In the number of her sons sacrud we
tin' cause of the Union, Vermont led 11’ is
other States bv a heavy per cent., with'm
exception of Kansas. ”
Vermont’s proportion per 1,000 contrii
utod to the total of deaths in action was
58.82, that of Ohio .‘{6,55, that of New York
33.68, Massnehinotts was 47.16, lowa 45.44.
In the proportion per 1,000 of deaths from
disease, lowa led with a percentage of
114.02, amt Vermont followed with 91.81.
Ohio’s |srcentftge was 46.83. The projsirtioii
of deaths from uii cutise* in the troops of
en<-h State was as follows: Maine, lin 7; New
Hampshire, 1 lu 7; Vermont, 1 in 0; Massa
chusetts, 1 in 9: Rhode Island, 1 in 11; Con
necticut, lin 10’ New York, lin 13; New
Jersey, 1 in 12; Pennsylvania, 1 in 13; Dela
ware, 1 in 30; Maryland, 1 in 36: Ohio, 1 in
9; Indiana, 1 in 8; Illinois, 1 in 7; Michigan,
1 in 6; Wtoxinsin. 1 in 7; Minnesota, 1 in 8;
lowa. lin 5 (nearly 6); Kansas, lin 5; Cal
ifornia, 1 in 20; West Virginia, 1 in 9; Ken
tucky, 1 in 19; Missouri, 1 in 9,
Again, the young men mast not forget, as
they read of the great buttles of history,
tliat few of them can compare in magni
tude with the greutost tmttlcs of the civil
war, and that the buttles of tliat war were
the bloodiest in all the history of wars in
the nriqKjrtion of killisl to those engaged.
YVuterlrs! win one of the most drefls-rato and
bloody field* chronicled in European his
tory, and yet Wellington's casualties wore
less thm \v Per cent.. Ids loaves being 2.432
killcM n.pi 9*B wiamdod old of over 100,000
u;0, while at Shiloh one side lost in Id Ik'd
end wminded 9,740 cut of 34,000, while their
Opponents report tie *r killed and wounded
,u 9,616, making the casualties about 30 per
cent. At the srrut battle of Wagrum
Napolron lost but about 5 per cent, At
Wurzburg the French 1 <ytt, hut. per cent.,
and yet tn" army gave up the field and n
ti e.it and to the Rfiiue.
At Rnpour Manhnl Saxe loat but %}( per
cd|l. At Zurich Mitsvim lost but S j* r
c*in. At Lagi i/. Frederick lost but per
per cunt.- At Malploquct Marlborough lust
but 10 per rent., and at Ramillies the same
intrepid commander lost Lint 0 jior cent.
At Contras, Henry of Navarre was re
ported os cat to pira-s, yet his low wan less
tuan 10 per i. .it. At Lodi Napoleon lust 1 ,
ix r cent. At Valmy Frederica IV iiliaai loot
but b pci cent., and at the great lurttlcs of
Marengo and At terlitz, sanguinary a;* they
"tie, Napoleon lost an average of less than
is cent. At Mogeut. and Solfcrino,
tu 185(1, the average loss of both armies was
hsss than 9 jwr cent. At Konigrath, in Isc ill,
it. was I! per cent. At Worth, Specheran,
1* Tour, Gravelotte ana Sedan, in
18,0, the average loss was 12 per cent., while
at Linden Gen, Moreau lost out 4 [x-r cent.,
and the Archduke John lost but 7 per cent,
in killed tuid wounded. Americans would
scarcely call this a lively skirmish.
At Perry ville, Murfreesboro, Chicnmauga,
Atlanta, Gettysburg, Mission Ridge, the
n ildernc ss and Spottsylvania, the loss fre
quently reached, and sometimes exceeded,
40 per cent., and the average of killed and
wounded on one side or the other was over
30 per cent.
Of the gentlemen w ho were at West Point
during one period of a cadetship, 56 were
killed in battle, and estimating the rate of
killed and wounded at 1 to 5, 280 were
wounded.
From the discovery of America to 1801,
ill all wars with other nations, the record
gives the deaths in battle of button Ameri
can Generals, while from 1861 to 1805, both
sides being opposed by Americans, more
than 100 general oitloers fell while leading
their triumphant columns. From 1402 to
18111 the killed and wounded upon American
soil in all battles, combats and skirmishes,
added together, as shown Icy reports, hardly
exceeded the casurlties of single buttles of
the great American conflict.
In addition to the vast list of dead from
the war must lie added those who died from
wounds received during the war. The kill
ing is still going on rapidly as ever, and
men are dropping daily from “wounds re
ceived in action” who ought, to live for long
years yet. The figures I have given really
?ivc but a glimpse into the real truth of the
rightful mortality of the war that, saved
the Union. I hope the .young men who read
this will feel no more impatience because
the saenfiree of the great war are talked
about, and that they will cut otit the figures
tliat t have coHncted for thorn and save
them for referoiM-o whenever they feel tliat
way.
NEKVK AND GOLD.
Reminiscences of Draw Poker on Pio
neer Steamboats.
From the Nashville American.
The late Capt. Jack Dashiell in his long
service on the Cumberland witnessed many
stirring scenes, of which he never tired talk
ing to his friends. Spiking of card play
ing' on the pioneer steamboats he once said:
“Yes, it was a real pleasure to witness
one of those old-fashioned games. Why,
I’ve wen wives and swi'ctb(>artH sit behiud
the chairs of their husbands and lovers and
watch with eager interest the exciting play.
Rich brandies and wines and fine cigars
were convenient, and the game flowed on
with seldom a rough word. The stakes did
grow to rather exorbitant proportions some
times, it must tie confessed; but men need
excitement, you know, ami those men had
the nerve to see bullion circulated without
manifesting much trepidation at the re
sult.”
“What was the biggest game yon ever
saw?"
“That question is rather hard to answer.
Let us see. I think it was one played on
the ’Tonka in the thirties. Oh, yes, 1 recol
lect distinctly, and the man who won it was
a rare go's! one. 1 had left New Orleans on
the return trip to Nashville, and among t.be
passengers were a gixxlly number of plant
ers whose pockets jingled heavily with the
com brought by the sale of their
produce. There was one young fel
low, 1 renienilier, who hoarded ns at New
Orleans saying he was on a pleasure jaunt to
Nashville. Ho was a tall, slender youth,
upon whose lips the faint traces of a mous
tache betokened a manhood which other
wise might have Ixxmi doubted. He was
singularly handsome, a tine specimen of
the aristocratic Creole. His garments were
fashionably cut and of rich texture. He
wore no jewelry save a delicately molded
watch chain, wfilch passed around liis neck,
and a solitaire diamond, which flashed lus
trously upon bis dark-skinned hand. He
was apparently wealthy, but made no dis
play ornis money; that w, for several days.
YVe hail lieen out some time and things
were moving quite merrily, when someone
proposed poker. That was nothing unusual,
and I ixiicl no attention to the preparation
for the gunie. Dinner had just lieeii served,
the wines jiassed around and everybody
mellow for fun. A table was cleared, anew
deck of cards brought out by the clerk, and
the party squared themselves for play. It
was composed of three planters, old ac
quaintances of mine from this section, and
the young Creole. I passed t lie quartette as
the lirst hand was Ixdng dealt and with a
wish that they might enjoy themselves,
went to the hurricane deck. I did not
comedown until supper time The iJaye*
still sat at their place j oM not know her
hung over th- •.▼* called her “Mary
the Sis. nad lieen picked up out of
„l, street. But she grew on, and after
awhile the Holy Bpirit came to her heart,
and she became a Christian child, and sho
changed her name; mid when anybody
asked her what her name was, she said: “It
used to be Mary Lost: but now, since I have
income a Christian, it is Mary Found."
For this vast multitude, are wo willing to
go forth from this morning's service and
see what we can do, employing all the agen
cies I have spoken of for tin l rectification of
the poisoned fountains! We live in it beau
tiful The lines have fallen to us in
pleasant placos, and we have a goodly heri
tage; atm any man who does not like a resi
dence in Brooklyn, must be a most uncoin
fortahle and unreasonable man. But, my
friends, the material prosperity of a city
is not its chief glory. There may be line
bouses, and beautiful streets, and tliat all be
the garniture of a sepulchre. Some of the
most prosperous cities of the world have
gone down, not one stone left upon another.
But a city may lie in ruins long before
a tower has fa 1 ten, or a column has
crumbled, or a tomb has been
defaced When in a “My the Churches of
God are full of cold formalities and inani
mate religion, when the houses of com
merce are the abode of fraud and uriholv
traffic; when the streets are filled wftli
rjrne unarrested, and sin unenlightened, and
'-ysuess unpitied—that city is in ruins,
of L every church were a fit. Peter's,
namwfy moneyed institution were a Bank
chair llr *> and “very library were a Brit
awaited' 111 !, and every house had a porch
opener <! f Rheims, and a roof like that of
planter t' “ t° w ® r like that of Antwerp,
his mind** 1 windows like those of Frei
pfaved his to, our pulses beat rapidly the
gold had IT I soon we shall le gone; and
hihle The fo 'l° f° r the city in which we
the next in o riKlit speedily, or never do
silent for a futf *vt>en those who have
with a muttered ‘ n luxuries and despised
to the deck; the ot|t° shame and everldst-
The Creole gently . *MV be said of you
pouch. Am he coaclbread to the hungry
he gently tipiied I*cor of the orphan, and
they were so hla<-k tl>o "treet we opened
leariy rarted upon hls 1 ®^ 0 ® °* a
a mild inquiry, ‘*irough our instru
to see the hand that bea,known on earth
he spreail the raids upoo*t became Mary
farce upward, We all bti _
spect them. 1 thought he
straight certainly. What Canada,
a single pair Mid nothing be-James Alex
other pin rer* realised how nodpbia forger,
been liluffed. a look of disg ;ht. He has
their faces which I can never l and family
neat; wasn't ili The game stop,he |>a*t two
and there, and I did not see exported to
partv formed on that trip. i
winner he came on to Nash villi -
tired his gains like wheat to the te use of
fashionable pro. I learned aftei ter niay
lie was of one of the oldest and BVbhloride
erotic families in Louisiana. Yes, armless
t!lose were the highest, t.'ikre I saw ounce
know the winner was the coolest pdrmk-
Vr laid eyes on.”
A LONG TIME RETURNING.
A Boy Sent on an Errand Returns
Nine Years After With the Goods.
From the Paducah News.
Just nine years ago on a May-day morn
ing from a .arm house on the bonk of tha
Ohio, a few mites alx>ve the city of Padu
cah, a boy of 16 was sent by his mother to
town for some household supplies—a dollar’s
worth of sugar and coffee. The incident of
itself |s nothing; it occurs scores of times in
the life of every farmer boy; but thereby
hangs a tale, of which Defoe could have
written a volume, and which, woven
into a novel, would be of intense interest
to the youthful readers of the half-dime
libraries.
If the family to which this hero belonged
had waited the evening meal for his, return,
the Coroner would have found a “deafch-by
starvation case,” and if no other messenger
was sent for the articles the hum of the cof
fee mill and the singing of the kettle would
have not boen heard in that house all these
many days.
The boy was of n roving disposition: was
a Bohemian by nature, and, nred with the
highly-colored store* of life in tliefur West,
his errand for sugar and coffee ended in a
nine years’ search for fame and fortune be
yond the Rwkies. Coming to town that
day, he dixap|>eared as utterly as though
the earth had opened and swallowed him up.
Not a trace of him could lie found, not a
word ould bo heard, and after days of
anxiety had lengthened into months of sor
row, and months had measured years, with
out 1 idings. the grief and pain grew into the
apathy ol' despair, and the mother let long
ing die, and thought of him as having
crossed the dark river to join the countless
crowd on the father shore.
The boy went West. Sometimes fortune
smiled ui>on him and left him happy and
hopeful; sometimes luck went by on the
other side, and lie sighed for the rest of
home. Sometimes ho dined on plenty; some
times the dinner-table was a stranger. Some
times Ids raiment was of line linen and fair
to look ujxm; at other times, through the
rents iu the rags that covered his lines, not
a sign of a shirt could be seen, and the cold,
cutting w inds of the middle of December
played a gleeful game ith the spots where
the shirt ought to have been. The world
was a great deal larger, a great deal colder,
and a great deal less inclined t<i encourage
youthful aspirations than he had ever
Imagined. Years of experience robbed him
of t,Ue arrogance of youth, and taught him
the truth that the four-leafed shair.nx'k of
future grows just as luxuriantly at home,
and the glitter of gold is just as bright,
when s n by one's own hearth-stone.
Wearying at last of the struggle In- deter
mined to return. He leached Paducah nine
years from the day he left home. The
steamer Rl.oa was in port, and he tarried in
the city only long enough to purchase the
sugar and coffee for which he had lioen sent
so long Ix-fore and took jwssage. When
the Ixmt rounded in at his landing he was in
the pilot-house and saw Ills mother stand
ing at the gute looking at tilt- boat and
wondering no doubt who could lx- coming.
He went ashore und walked up to the gate.
Hhe did not seem to know him, and, as ho
advanced, retreated toward the house. He
ciuno nearer, nearer until she could seeevory
line and lineament of Ills face. Then diet
she recognize him I Ask any mother who,
has had a son go out from her sight into the
world and in ufter years come linck to her
with the stamp of age upon him; ask
any mother if that one. whom sho
has nursed and nurtured through the tot
tering days of babyhood and watched grow
tall and strong and proud could be forgotten;
ask any mother who, as she reads this, looks
up and smiles on some fair boyish form and
knows iu her heart no time could alter those
features so that she could not see in them
somethingot her own. Ask these. What
passed lietween the mother and son we do
not know, and if we did It would not ilnd
place in these columns; for what tongue can
tell or pen ixirtray the feeling each must
have had when they stood face to face; he,
bearded and brawny, sun-tannedaiid tawny;
she, old and wrinkled, but his mother. We
know not what words they said, what tears
they shed; but we venture this, that if on
the farm there was one yearling just a little
fatter than all the rest, tliat calf never saw
daylight again, and when the feast was
spread the first line on the bill of fare wa*
“sugur and coffee.”
WHISKY TASTING.
Some Surprising Averments Made by
An Expert.
From the Chicago Herald.
“When you hear people talk about this
whisky or that being good,” said an agent
of a Cliicago wholesale liquor house who
was just returning from a trip to Kentucky,
“you can say to yolirseu that the whisky
may be either good or bad, and that the
man who drinks and smacks his lips knows
nothing at all about it. Telling good whisky
front bad is anjut Ji out o fwpeople acquire
I buy thojflf time and manner ’b( l ' h )fy<iring
..leh'i.' It is an unfortune e custom in the
United Btates for women to wear jewels at
all times; at breakfast, ingoing to market,
for visiting, for every possible occasion, in
fact. I know one laay, the happy jiossessor
of an exquisite pair of solitaire diamond
earrings, who never takes them out of her
oars. Tliis is not only foolish but in execrable
taste. In Europe—that is, on the Continent
—ladies wear jewels all day long. But then,
these fair foreign dames ore not housekeep
ers. They never go to market, the kitchen
in a fine establishment is an unknown
quantity, milady does not tramp about the
streets looking for bargains and arrayed in
an ugly tailor mails costume, or a still uglier
thing called an ulster. The ways of living
abroad differ essentially from our own. I
do not say that they are better but that
they are different. In America women
walk a great deal, and to the promenaders
especially, I would say leave your jewels, if
you have any, at home. Nothing is morn
ridiculous than to see a woman in a roars*
serge gown, iven made by the best tailor,
stout walking boot*, perhans covered by
muddy overshoes, and with diamonds bla*
mg in her ears. For piying visits in the
afternoon, if one go in a carriage, a few
jewels may appropriately be worn with a
silk or velvet costume. In any event, never
put on such abominations as imitation
precious stones. No woman of real refine
ment is ever seen in them. They are only
ftt for the rabble who seek to ape their
I sitters. If you cannot afford to purchM*
the “real thing’’ go without.
Ct.ARA IiARZA.
A FUNNY MISTAKE.
A Man Who Took Out a Dog Moons*
to Got Married.
From the Chicago .Veirs.
“Is this the place to get a licenser*
asked a timid young man, nervously, of
Officer Spencer in the collector's office yes
terday.
“Yes; right at the window. You'll hav*
to wait your turn. ”
The youth got into line and in the coum
of haif an hour reached the window.
“What's your name and residence!' asked
the busy clerk.
“E. Walters, 958 Clybourn avenue.”
“ Well, here you are— s3, please.”
The young man paid the money, seized the
paper, ami hastened out of the room. Officer
Spencer, noticing the glad light in his eyee
as he passed, remarked to himself:
“That young feller must be a valuable ani
mal. I'll net it 'ud break his heart if it ata
some pizened meat.’'
As soon as he hail reached the corridor
Walters pulled out his license to look at it.
“Holy smoke! What’s tbisf Dog!
Marry a dog! By George! What will
Annie say!’
He was paralyzed. He stood as if dazed
for some moments, uncertain what to do.
Finally he sheepishly went bars to Officer
Spencer, who, when he heard the young
man's explanation, intereeiied for him, got
his 4U hack, and directed him tp the
hymeneal window in the county clerk'*
oifle*, where he succeeded in getting the
proper license. As he walked away be could
not help smiling to hi mmilf.
10