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WaKESHN'S WANDERINGS
AMONQ THE FISHERMEN ALONO
THE ENGLI-H COAST.
The Poet Traveler's Masterly Pictures
of British Coastwise Scene and Follr,
Shown Through Crystal Lenses of
Vvlnsomo Words— .'eryld Face and
Character Portraiture of These Pa
tient Toilers of the Pea—Curious and
Fanciful Superstitions.
(CepyrttfM, 1993.)
London, March 20.— Filgriming in many
lands, 1 have been much among their wat r
•ide folk—with the fishermen of Algiers,
who arc a conglomerate race of Greeks,
Italians, Spaniards and Arabs; with the
fishermen of Sicily, gloomy and voiceless as
gypsy di gs: with Cbioggtan and Apulian
fishermen, those most majesties sluggards of
all Italy; with those of Barcelona, the
giants of the south of Spain; with Biscayan,
Breton and Cornish fishermen, superstitious
and sodden above ail others; with the
brave, kind men of Claddagh, at
Galway, and those along the wondrous
Kerry ooast; with the stern yet tender fisher
folk of Manxland; with the lazy fishermen
Of the dreamy Azores, who, transferred
to Amerioan coasts, prova the most valu
ble recruits to our east-shore fishing fleets;
with the cap-and-tasseled Pescadores of
Cuba, brigands all in looks and ways; with
the squatty Esquimaux of the Labrador
coast, satisfied with any fruitage of the deep
which will barely sustain life; with the
crofter-fisher of the n rtb-Scottlsh and
Shetland ooasts; and with our owu brave
Gloucester men who risk their livos on the
Grand Banks, and the ’Quoddy fishermen
Whose chief quarry is the herring, all along
the grand Maine ooast to the mist-wreathed
crags of wild Manan.
In many years of intoroourse with these
lowly folk I have been continually Impressed
with the almost indefinable and wholly in
describable sadness that seems to brood over
end among all this class of people. It is in
their cabins and homely social life. It is in
their voices and looks. In repose, it sets on
their faoes painfully. Housed into some
great activity, in storm, in taking fish, or in
saving lives, they have grand, earnest faces,
these fishermn. But in the quiet hours,
there is something hunted, haunted, wearied,
worried, dreadiDg and dreadful, to be read
in the lines of their faoes, in the tremulous
ness of their voices, and in the light which
shines from their eyes, that all their brave
and hearty ways cauuot hide or disguise.
It is ess If the sea, from whloh they live,
had whispered in secret to each conscious
ness some savage threat of reprisal; as if
over every little oomfort, home joy, or well
earned content, hung the specter-hand of
fate ooming closer to the inner vision every
time the fisherman’s heart grew glad. In
whatever degree this is universal, it seems
to me to be more marked among the fisher
men of England, Ireland and Scotland, than
I have ever found it elsewhere revealed. I
believe Dickens saw and felt this at the old
fishing port of Great Yarmouth when he
created out of bis great and tender heart
the pathetio characters of the Peggottys—
simple, tender, true; sooruing baseness;
resolute in all manly attributes; majestic in
suffering and forgiveness; and through and
over all, the pathetic thread of sadness,
quivering like an endless plaint in a melo
dious though mournful song.
In this experience strange and tender,
weird and sad, pictures of fishing towns and
villages, eea-reaches and ooasts innumera
ble, each one a study for a master’s brush,
are stored within the memory. Here are a
few of their outlines:
The mighty southwest of Ireland Kerry
coast, with weird Bray Head, and majestic
81. Michael’s mount upon Great Skellig
rook, darkening along the eastward land
ward horizon; and at sea, just to the north
of the great ocean liners’ way, the spring
mackerel fleet—from Kerry hamlets, from
Man land and from FraDOe, altogether-from
8,000 to 4,000 craft—frequently so densely
massed that water cauuot be seen from
a fishing-smack s deck; thousands of sea
gulls whistling and flapping their wnite
w.ngs above; and to the west, a sea-horizoa
of rose and orange where the setting sun
still shows a flaming elge; while more than
10,000 lusty men, under a third as many
flashing cruloh-lights set amidships of the
smacks, are silently “shooting ’ the great
brown seines for the night.
Matchless is that picture, ever tinted by
the near presence of fisher folk and their
storm-whipped homes, you may see from
Shetland's most somber sea wall hight,
might, mournful Fitful Head. It Is the
White mountain of the Norsemen, on ac
count of the luster of its slate formation.
Its highest crag rises fully 1,000 feet above
the sea, but the legendary habitation of
Norna, a bold, almost detaoked, cliff lifting
its sea-front into a point as sharp as a
church spire, is not more than three-fourths
that elevatiOD. It is quite accessible after a
rough scramble, and its sides are the haunts
of myriads of sea fowl. Horrible, indeed,
must be the place in time of storm.
But, away down there below, the
tea is often as oalm as a Highland
loch. From the higher headland the
whole of Shetland can be seen—waste,
moor, hillock, valley, glen; a land without
forests, split aud serrated by the ceaseless
gnawing of the sea. Tremendous preci
pices rise eyery where. Lochs and tarns
t #bow without oorpse or veudure. Shadowy
' “ bellyera” cut the sea walls where the tide
is ever at ebb or flow. Here a fishing sta
tion; there a dreary hamlet. Yonder a
gravely beach, with fish ourers and their
sodden toil; beyond, a weird gio with a
herd of seals turning their shining sales to
low, red sun. Over all, a filmy, dreamy,
tender presence; for in the brief days be
fore the dark, long winter sets in, it is the
fisherman’s “peerie summer" in the Shet
land Isles.
Strange, quiet, God-fearing souls are the
fishermen of the Solway shores, whether
they live on the Scottish side, where every
stream and brae and vale has a reminder
of the immortal poet of the lowly who rests
within the sound of Solway’s tide thunder
ing*, or on the English side in rock-girt
Cumberland, in the brave old houses built
from Homan walls. Giant frames have
these folk, and wondrous hight, wide, fair
brows, great blue or hazel eyes and leonine
heads of flaxen hair. I always remember
them with their apparent alertness of atten
tion, an unconscious habit and attitude of
listening. For it is said that these folk oan
hear the oncoming sweeps of the great tide
bore from the Irish sea—whloh brings the
harvest of fish and often the terror of death
—for twenty miles away.
Long before this, if you are standing on
the oliff-edge above ancient Bow ness, you
will see the fishers, waist deep in water,
hurrying on the tightening of their upright
nets, which for ten miles below seem like
tiny fences of rush; and away seaward with
your glass you can see them scurrying up
from the ebb-slime and sands towards safety
and the shore. Then to your unpracticed
ears come the faiut reverberations of a
hoarse roar; and soon, like a pillar of flame
In the play of the sunlight, the great mist
banner of the advancing waters is flung
from Scotland to England, almost from
Criffel to Silloth, and moves toward you
like a lurid oioud above a running battle.
In a few moments more the brilliancy of
the phenomenon is greatest.
Preceding the advancing cloud along the
•eetbing front of a wall of water five miles
wide glitter, foams and hisses a bank of
spume and spray zoned, rimmed and inter
laced with tiny rainbows. The roaring of
the bellowing water hosts becomes deafen
ing. For an Instant you are enveloped by
the oioud. That passed, while yon thrill
with the mystery and awful grandeur of the
spectacle, the great tide-head is abreast of
you, a true tide-bore, such as breaks
majestically into Minas and other estuaries
of the Bay of Fundy. cylindrical and
straight as an arrow across the firth and
from si* to eight feet, in bight which sweeps
past with a bellow and shriek like that of
an hundred thousand coast fog horns bowl
ing iu unison; while clone in its wake is a
biilocky, tempestuous mass of waves bril-
liantly gorgeous in fitfully-swept prismatio
colors—and the Solway tide is in.
I This is the picture that comes to me from
Ireland’s craggy north. The eastern shore
of wild Ixmgh Swilly is a succession of
ruins, dainty villages, like Bui.era a and
j Fahau, and of piigrim-hajuted shrines.
Over to the west are wider sh res, hu s,
round towers, fisher-’cabins: and here and
there the patched sails of the herring fishers’
smacks lie white against the background cf
the headlands and aids. Here the sweetest
, herring known to man are taken The
brawny herring fishers of the north are here
in greatest numbers. They are sodden,
hopeless, hard. But they are brave and as
strong as iron. They have tremendous
frames; are brown as bronze, ami form
groupings of startling impressiveness. They
are simple and peaceable, i am told. But
were pirates wanted; were fleets to be fitted
out with men for work giving one a shudder
to contemplate; these sea giants would fur
nish inoi.mpara lo human, heartless flint.
But if they are flint, their wives are steel.
Above six feet in hight, broad and strong
as their burly mates, with legs corded like a
man’s and bare to tbe knees; with arms
long, crooked and lleshless as wood: with
flat, hairy breasts often barel from neck to
waist, aud tanned by salt, sun uud wind to
tbe color of the mottled aider bark; with
wide jaws, half tiothle.-s m >u.bs, sunken
cheeks, eyes blue-black and flashing from
deep, yellow sockets and brows bushy ad
ragged with bristling hairs; with narrow,
creased foreheads, and gras’, wide sailron
ooiored ears set straight out from behind
like dirty “ wing-aod-wmg” sails; and their
squareheads crowned by one black hair,
faded into snuff-brown like an liikept
animal’s, which is matted and knotted upon
tbe shoulders, and frequently to the waist —
and you have but the faintest picture of this
half animal who subsists upon keip, dais ’,
black oat cake and half-raw fish that the
buyers, who come to tbe beaches in their
carts from Londonderry, refuse as eve i un
worthy of sale to mendicant and crouching
man-beast of the town.
And the children of these)
They drag out the same horrible livas;
help make the British navy;or turn trait ir
to the brood of half-pirates bebind-fbeoiun
ing the most remorseless of coast-guard, or
mountain poteen-hunting, officers. And
yet how the old blood occasionally blossoms
through this llmitlesi degradation. A
daughter of just such an one as I have
piotured was the most perfect type of wild
and simple human beauty I ever beheld.
Bare-legged and bare- breasted as her
mother; brown as a hazel nut; ignorantly
innocent of fear; for four copper coins she
rowed me across Lough Hwilly to where
her father’s work lay mending the seines,
like an Amazonian man-of-war’-man;
while I sat speechless, contemplating her
marvelous beauty and majestic proporti ms;
hating myself because I was not altogether
an artist, aud wondering, in ail reverence,
why God, or God’s nineteenth century
civilization, could not wait upon the Afri
can missions for a little, aud reach to and
succor such as these.
Standing upon the huge headland above
ancient St. Ives, another r’tuarkabla pict
ure is yours. It is one of the most interest
ing fishing ports in Europe. Tbs bzy itself
faoes the north. At your feet are purplo
heather and waving ferns, parted from the
waters by glistening sands. To the right
and east the green hillocks of the eastern
shore. Then the broad, yellow beach of
Forth-cocking,or the Foreeand. Dominating
"ns is the great headland of Fednolva.
Beyond, gleaming like a field of gold, are
tbe magnificent sands of Forth minster; and
further still, tbe headland aud rocky islet of
Godrevy, with the latter’s white lighthouse
sitting, cameo-like, between the purple of
the sea walls anu the tremulous blue of the
ocean.
Before you, the silent shimmering bay,
with a few white-winged fishing craft
soarceiy moving, it seems, the distance is so
great from the hight where you stand; the
ocean beyond, shining and blue and still;
rhythmio reaches of incoming tide-waves,
mUes in length, advancing and retreating
and breaking softly upon the shelving sands
in tiny ridges of sparkling spume; aud here,
to the west, a great jumbled mass of gray—
old St. Ives crouching iu a little pocket of
the rocks, like a mass of mossy stoue iu
some shadowy glen, sleeping away the oen
turles, unconscious of the thunderous sea.
Aside, from these, and a half hundred
more picturesque spots that cauuot even be
named, there are the sleepy hamlets and
sand shores of orange from Blackpool to
Whitehaven, along the Irish sea; the mites
of villages speoklng the sides of the win
some,sea-oombee of Somerset and Devon; the
quaint soenes among the fleets and homes of
the tishermen of Penzance, Falmouth, Ply
mouth and Torquay; the countless fisher
haunts in the seething ohines of the win
some isle of Wight; the drearier reaches of
the English east shore where the battles
with the storms and tides are ever fierce
and strong; the wild, wailing, woeful ooast
from Yarmouth to Whitby, which has
seemed fated to be the scene of
the oesan’s saddest tragedies; the red
roofs, the breezy shores, the gleaming sands
and the tossing spray of Ooldingham and
North Berwick, around to the south of the
mouth of the Forth; the snug town and
harbor, the quaint oi l streets, the luscious
fish dinners and the screaming fish wives of
Newhaven; the almost somber sileuoe ever
brooding above the piers of Buok Haven;
the rocky wallß, the steely blue of the Ger
man ooean, the awful storms aud the great
dingy, cheerless fishing towns of the east
ooast, from Aberdeen to Thurso; the brown
crags,tbe emerald Bloplngs and tbeshadowy,
moauful fissures of tbe Shetland and Ork
ney shores, with their Dutch and Norse
oolor in faces and ways; and the drear,
gray rocks and putfln-haunted crags of the
misty Hebrides, where the brave, half
starved crofter-tisber battles all his life for
pi ere existence.
The customs, folk-lore and superstitions
which have been the natural outgrowth of
their vocation hare beeu practically
changeless for half a thousand years; and
their portents and omens ara countless.
In Skye if a woman crosses the water
where fiihlng is in progress, and among the
Newhaven men if tbe name of "Bouuger”—
that of an old Newhaven reprobate who
was the impersonation of.bad iuok and once
lived among them—be mentioned, fishing
wiil be at ones discontinued. Skye and
Harris fishermen have t eeu known to beat
their wives dreadfully, not from any Ul
leeling but to propitiate and attract tbo
fish.
All British fishermen note carefully the
first person upon whom their eyes alight in
the morning. Their luck for'the day will
depend on whether the person is well or ill
favored. A clergyman, a pig or a oat are
the most dreaded of all objects as fleets are
sailing out of the harbor. The sigut of
either, or the discovery of the footprint of
a flat-footed person in the sand, bodes ali
manner of ill iuok; and to utter the name
of a clergyman or any four-footed boast on
board a fishing boat would render the
offender subject to bodily peril, aud at least
destroy ail hopes of success on that day.
All along the west coasts of Cornwall,
Scotland and Ireland, they make better use
of the dreaded oat. They secure favoring
winds by burying it alive in tho sands of the
seashore with its head opposite tbe desired
course of the wind. Up in the Shetland* and
Orkneys fishermen wear a luokv belt con
taining dried offal of three difforent her
rings; and a perfeot child’s caul, which
wards off evil influences and brings good
fortune, hanging in the cabin of a fishing
boat, is worth from 5 to 8 guineas in any
prosperous fishing village.
Among maDy fanciful superstitions and
ourlous weather omens whioh I have found
to be universal with British fishermen are
the following: They never point with tbe
finger to another smack. If the mistake
occurs, both hands are instantly upraised
and spread in the attitude of blessing. Three
idle strokes of a stick iu tbe sand, making a
figure resembling A ooffia, portend death.
It is unlucky to meet a barking dog in tbe
morning. If porpoises tumble about in uu
usual numbers, or if seagulls leave the open
sea and gather noisily along shore, storms
will surely come. Whistling ot sea is the
worst of all ill portents; aud nothing is so
much dreaded as a whistling woman ashore.
If a mop or water bucket is lost overboard
from a smack, the unfortunate craft in
stantly sets sail for port. Dreaming of
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, APRIL 2, 1893-SI XTEEN PAGES.
anchors is a good omen. A broken looking
glass on board will create a veritable panic.
To count fishermen as they march to and
from the boats puts them in deadly Deril.
If blood be drawn during a quarrel on tbe
I ■each. all fish will leave tbe locality. Noth
ing is more unpropitious than the presence
of women wherever fishing is in progress;
and no fishermen will go to sea when the
dead body of one of their number, or fam
ily, lies unburied.
Edgar L. Wakeman.
THE LITTLE VIOLINIST.
1 A Story of Ole Bull and Hane Christian
Anderse".
Henry Coy'e, in the Doll's Dressmaker.
On the outskirts of a great city in Ger
many there lived a poor widow and her
little son. .Mrs. Aurlich earned a scanty
livelihood with her noadle, and little
Barthold made himself useful by gathering
wood, rim ing errands and working their
small garden during the summer. The
warm weather was a pleasant season, but
in the winter when work was scarce they
we e often hungry.
But lierthold was not unhappy; he lived
in bh ideal world, a heaven of harmony.
For him al! nature was an orchestra; he
heard music in the whispering of the great
pinei in the forest betiind his cottage home,
in the evening zephyrs, iu the tingling
streams, in the chiming of the church toils
in the -illago hear bv, nt night a mighty
chorus of unseen minstrels lulled him to
sleep.
Mrs. Aurlieh’s health began to fall and
she was finally obliged to give up the little
work she already had. One dav when
Berthold was absent in the forest gathering
wool, he was detained until quite late. He
hurried home, and as he a opr ached the
cottage he saw that t ore was no light shin
ing from tbe window.
W ith an anxious heart he hurried into
the house and calied his mother, but re
ceived no answer. He groped bis way
across the room through the darkness, and
stumbled over her where aheluyunom
soious on the cold floor.
Very much alarmed, the lad knelt down
and chafed her hands and sprinklori some
water on her fate. After a while Mrs.
Auriich opened her eyes and assisted by
Berthold, mo aged to reach her bod, and
for several days the lad was her only nurse.
The poor woman did no: seem to im
prove. She needed some nourishing food
and medicine, but these cannot be obtained
without money. Berthold begged her 10
allow lum to go into the village and bor
row some money from u relative residing
there, but this she would not consent to; she
was very proud, and the relations oetween
herself aud her relatives had not been vary
cordial since she had become poor.
The widow did not realize that she was
very ill, and sue thought that a few days’
rest would restore her again; she felt no se
vere paio, but was very languid and weary;
bre abing was difficult, and her head and
hands were hot and feverish, while her feet
were like •‘blocks of ice.”
It wbs a very cold day; the sky was
dark and threatening, and Berthold heaped
the little fireplaco with wood, but the heat
all went up the ohimney and the house was
very cold.
He bad only a crust of blaok bread for
bis breakfast; the last of tbe loaf was
nearly gone and he had put the last grain
of chi orv coffee into the pot to make a
cup for h's mother. Thera was no milk or
sugar for it, and when the mixture was
hot he went oyer to the bed.
“Dear mother!” he whispered, softlv.
She lay very etlii, her eyes closed, her
hands crossed over her breast. She looked
looked like the picture of a dead saint he
had seen in the art gallery of the city which
he had once visited with hie faiher. The
sick woman opened her eyes, aud, smiling,
began to caress his band.
“Will you have some coffee, mother)”
To please him she assented, but when he
brought it to her she could not driuk it; her
stomach was too weak to retain it.
“Let it rest on the table,” she whispered,
4 ’it is too hot. I will drink it by and by.”
The tears came to tbe boy’s eyes, for be
knew that the mixture wm too strong for
hor and that she needed some light and
nourishing food. He tucked the clothes
about her and smoothed tbe pillow. His
mother thanked him with a smile and kissed
him tenderly.
“You are a good*boy,” she whispered.
The lad went to replenish the fire, and
when this was done be saw that his mother
was asleep. There was a deep flush on her
face and her fingers were working nerv
ously.
Berthold sat on a low atool before the fire
in deep thought for some time; suddenly be
arose and went over to a little cupboard.
He took from it something covered with an
old coat; this be unrolled and disolosed a
violin, small, and yellow with age.
Ho examined the strings carefully, and
then placed it at his shoulder and drew the
back of the bo w noiselessly across tbe strings.
Suddenly be heard a low tap at the door,
and without waiting to lay aside tbe instru
ment he went and opened the door.
“Good morning, Gretchen I” he exolaimed;
“Come in and shut the door softly. My
mother is aleep.”
Gretchen, the daughter of their nearest
neighbor, entered the cottage. She was
about the ss me age as Berthold; her eyes were
blue as the sties, and her hair yellow as
gold. In her hand she oarried something
wrapped up in a towel.
“ What have you there?”
“Mother sont over abowlof rabbitaoup,”
replied the girl, “and she said I might B‘ay
over here all day and clean up the house.”
“She is very good,” said Berthold; “I
am afraid my mother is going to dial”
Now the lad was a manly little fellow,
but he loved his mother very much, and he
felt so miserable that he sat down on the
stool and began to sob.
“Dear Berthold,” cried Gret hen, “do
not cry. The good God will spare your
mother, lam sure. Do not let her see you
grieving, for that will only distress her.”
“You are right,” said the lad, rising from
tbe stool and brushing away the tears from
hie face.” “Now, Gretchen, lam going to
ask a favor of you.”
“Of me?”
“Yes,” said the lad,“it is this: lam going
away for a few hours, ana I want you to
stay with my mother until 1 return.”
“But where are you going?”
“Do notusk me. please. Will you stay
here until 1 return?”
“Why, of course, but ”
“Thank you, dear Gretchen,” and Berthold
wrapped the violiu up in the old oloth and
then put on his thick jacket and fur cap.
4 'When mv mother wakes up tell her that
I am out in the forest and that you expect
me home very soon. It may be late before
I get home, and I will stop at your house
now end tell them that you will remain
with us until to-morrow.”
The lad went over to hU mother, but he
was afraid to kiss ber, ns it might waken
her. He barely touched his lips to her hair,
and then, after giving Gretchen a few direc
tions about the lire, he hurried out, softly
closing the door after him.
He looked back once or twice, aud he
oould see the girl’s fair face in the window
watching him. He waved his hand to her
and hurried on. He stopped ac the farm
house where Gretohen lived and begged her
parents to permit her to stay with his
mother until moraine. They wore kind
hearted people and consented; they insisted
on bis drinking a bowl of milk, which was
very aooeptable. After thanking them ho
set out on his journey
A wind storm raged violently, so that the
lad could scarcely see bis way, aud the
drifts of snow were often far above his
waist. On either haud tbe fields stretched,
white with snow; the pine and fir trees
which skirted tbe road presented curious
and fantastic forms, aud the bushes were
like goblius with white sheets around them.
It was already quite dark when he
reached the great oity, although the hour
was early. At first the lad was fairly be
wildered with the unaccustomed noiss and
bustle, the crowds of people, and tbe
thousands of brilliant lights which he had
never seen before.
But, in order to carry out bis plans suc
cessfully aiul reach borne that night,
Berthold knew he had no time to spare.
He selected a place near a publio square
and took the cloth from the violin; with
trembling fingers he tightened and tuned
the strings and then !>egan to play.
In a very short time a crowd gathered
around him, but be did not mind them in
the least, and played on. Two men, tall
and distinguished, attracted by the sight,
stoptwd to listen.
“What have we here, Hans?” said one.
“A wandering mir.strel, Ole. Let us go
nearer and have a peep.”
They crossed over the street and pushed
their way through the crowd. The stra ger
! called Ole went over to the lad, and smiling
down upon him asked him where he lived
and why he was out so late.
In a few words tbe lad told the gentle
| men bis simple but touching story. The
i tel! gentleman stooped and took the lad up
in hit arms and kissed him.
i “Y’ou must come with me.” be said, aud
I bis face and voice were so kind that Ber
thold was not at all alarmed.
Tbo two men st>o*e rapidly in a strange
| language, and halted before a magnificent
; palace, brlliiant with many lights. They
entered, the tallest stiil bearing Berthold in
'■ hi* arms.
They passed through an element corridor
i with wonderful | Dtures and ta usatids of
j lights, until they cane to the door of e
i ' bomber at the end. The stranger put the
! lad down and brushed his hair a little.
“Fear nothing,” ho whispered; “remem
ber we ara your friends.”
They entered a magnificat!t apartment,
which was crowded with elegantly dressed
ladies and gentlemen. One of the company,
an old, white-haired man, came forward to
wcloome them; the tail stranger whispered
something, and Berth dd could see by their
looks a 4 and gestures that he was tbe subject of
iheir conversation, a.id that the old gentle
man seemed to be very much amused.
He came over ta the lad and pinched bis
chee:;. The lad noticed that bis breast was
covered with ribbons and stars ami be knew
he must boeo i.e great prince. After a low
rniii:lies’ couverga*. on be turned to the as
sembled company aud in a slrango language
began to .iddress them.
At this every on ■ beoim ) silent and the
lad saw t at all eyesore pen him. When
the prince had ceased, tha tail stranger,
Berthold’* friend, s.o.ipad a .and wnisper-d io
him.
‘Now, my lad, do n it I • afraid,” he raid
kindly, “niay vour tied.”
Bertnold raised his violin to his t enk and
began to play a lutio song ihat ho bad com
posed hnnseif. It was very simple, but
sweet and touching, uud thrill-d every
heart. When he had finished the whole
company applauded and the prince bade
hitn play again.
Alter t!io applause had s lbsided, the tall
strange stcoped ami kissed tha lad, and
then took liio viuli, into his own hand;,
and, wonderful to iviute, ;,lu>ad Berthold’e
composition with variations; never was
heard such ravishing sounds, and the de
lighted c inpeny applauded loudly.
But suddenly the lad thought oi his sick
mother at home, and the tea's came to his
eyes. His tall friend uocioad this, and
when he questioned him the lad tol i him his
thoughts and begged to be allowed to return
home, as his mothi r might be anxious.
The two strangers bade tho company
farewell and Berthold bowed very low. At
the door of the paiace a splendid sleigh was
waiting and the lad ex. lamed to tbe driver
where to go, and the city was soon left far
behind.
When they arrived at the cottage the lad
descended first and opened the door very
softly. His mother was awake aad
Gretohe o was sitting beside her; she
sprang up with a glad cry when sfie saw
Berthold.
“My dear boy, where have you been?”
said bis mother, kissing him; “and who are
these gentlemen?”
"Wears his friends, madam,” said the
oue who had played the violin; “wo have
come to help you.”
They had a long and earnest conversation
with tbe sick woman and promised to re
turn again ou the morrow; on tbe table they
left a letter, and when they had taken their
departure the sick woman opened it and
found two large bank notes; tha letter
begged her to accept the money and prom
ised to give Berthold opportunities to edu
cate his musioahtsuan ts iix.Atta future, and
the signatures at the bottom were those of
“Ole Bull” and ‘‘Hans Christian Auder
sen."
A HIDDEN OHEST OF GOLD.
Guarded by Witches, but Eager Penn
sylvania Dutch Farm srs Are After It.
from the Mew York Sun.
Lancaster, March 15.—01d Mrs. Lein
baoh of Lower Heidelberg township, Berks
county, has had a dream about the long
sought hidden gold that lies somewhere
among the rocks in Indian Gap, on the
South mountain, near Wernersville. This
gold is in a ohest, says tbe legend, and was
hidden during the revolution by the famous,
or infamous, Doane band of tories and rob
bers, who terrorized this part of Pennsyl
vania by their marauaering excursions and
bloody murders.
The treasure has been for 100 years the
object of eager search by people wbo im
plicitly believe In its existence. They are
simple-minded Pennsylvania Dutoh farmers
mostly, and the belief in witohornft is still
held by many of them. This chest of hid
den gold is guarded and protected by old
time witches, acoording to the story, and
this is tbe reason no one has vet been able
to get away with it, although'tbe chest has
been located and seen at different times by
searchers after it.
The last time it was seen was In 188fi,
when Lena Stertzbaob, the 17-year-old
daughter of a prominent farmer of North
Heidelberg township, made her memorable
quest for the treasure. In the summer of
that year she had a vision in which the
spot w here the chest was hidden was re
vealed to her. At the same time a stranger
carae from Michigan to Wernersville and
said that an old Indian, whose auoestorß had
lived in the Schuylkill valley, had told him
of the chest cf gold that lay in Indian
Gap, and that he could find it provided he
oould get a young girl such as the Indian
described to lead him in the search. In
Lena Stertzbaeh the stranger recog
nized tho girl the Indian had described.
Every night for six months the girl, the
stranger and the girl’s father visited Indian
Gap aud hunted all night among *ihe rooits
for the gold. Thon Lena had another vision.
The treasure was to be revealed to them on
Christmas eve. Tho three went on that
night to the spot Lena had teen in her
vision and they found the chest deep in a
ravine oovered with rooks. They removed
the rocks, when a blue flame arose all
around the ohest and unearthly noises filled
the air. The near oners were frightened
away, and Lena declared that for three
daysßhe was totally blind and she has never
been able since to find tbe spot where the
chest lay or to see it even in a vision.
That experience of Lena Stertzbaeh and
her party filled the superstitious community
with terror, and since then no one has had
the termerity to make any further searoh
for the treasure. But old Mrs. Lein bach’s
dream, which she has had now in tho first
quarter of three successive moons, has
aroused suoh interest in the treasure that a
few venturesome spirits are planning a
determined and decisive quest for it. Old
Mrs. Leiubaob is a “hex” or witch layer.
She cures bewitched children or cattle, and
removes evil spirits of all kinds on request,
and for a tee. She has dreamed that the
witch that has its spell on the hidden chest
of goid will bo potent os the guardian of
the treasure only during the present year,
and that whoever may be present on tbe
spot at midnight on the Digbt that spell is
broken may succeed in securing the gold.
The trouble is tnat this dream of the old
hex does not fix the date of the witch’s ab
dication, nor does it looate tbe place where
the chest is hidden. The omy thing to be
doner, under the ciroumstances. Is for some
one to find the spot, aud try to take the
chest away at midnight every night until
they hit the night the witch’s watch oeasoa.
From nil accounts the rooks on Houtb
Mountain and in Indiau Gap will for the
next few months have such a turning over
and tumbling about as they have not hid
sinoe the glaoial floods rolled and hurled
them where they lie. Tbe credulous Dutch
farmers are dead set on getting that ohest
of gold.
WILHELM fiPBELS.
The Dowsgar Empress Frederick Will
Take Up Her Residence in England.
From the M ashlnaton Star.
The Empress Frederick is determined to
take up her permanent residence in Eng
land, where she wiil stay at Windsor and
avoid Germany as much as possible, says a
Berlin letter. The general belief that tbe
ardent desire for her native land caused
this oonclusion is a mistake. The ex-em
press believes that she is driven out of
Prussia by the treatment of her by her son,
the emperor, and his imperial consort.
It is well Known that the Empress Fred
erick was very much opposed to the mar
riage of her son, the present emperor. Her
antipathy against his young consort in
creased the more Wilhelm Bhowed his mother
his independence. Wilholm had oniy been
married about six months, and was living
at the Sohloss in Berlin, when his mother,
the crown princess, visited him, and, like
all motkert-in-law, commenced to give
orders in domestic affairs.
The young princess submitted silently,
and tried to please her mother-in-law an far
us possible, until tears filled her eyes. That
was too much for Wilhelm, who had been
listening behind a uewspaper ha was
reading.
“Mamma,” he cried, “1 am sure you have
forgotten that you are not at home. You
are in my house, cf which my wife is the
mistress. t-he is the only one who has to
command here besides ms.”
The crown princess departed in wrath and
ha ever sin: e fostered aa invincible hatred
toward tier daughter-in-law. She nas never
entered her bouse since without ordinal
resson.
Immediately after the Emperor Freder
ick’s death Che empress could not coumul
her feelings against her sou’s wife any
longer, so, it is said, inspired tha English
press to attack the young empress in a very
rx le manner.
Besides h<>r daughter-in-law it wes the
iron chancellor upon whim the Empress
Frederick’s wrath fell. She could not heal
th be displaced from tha powerful position
H o had occupied during the short reign of
her noble cons rt. Toe young emperor
i"SH, a cording to ber view, far too slow in
throwing over the faithful adviser and
friend of the old Emperor Wilhelm. At
last Bismarck had to go; bnt, in spite o’
ibis fact, the influence of Empress Fred
erick did not gain. On tho contrary, when
she tried to mix herself up with politics and
to udvise the emperor she was told by tho
litter that sun was de trap.
Since then sjie has spent most of her time
ontsi !o of Berlin. When she was informed
that the emperor felt tho wan* of a recon
ciliation with Bismarck aud had inst ucted
Count von Walclertee to straighten matters,
ber old hatred and jealousy broke out a .aw.
She rushed to the emDeror to teil him that
if this were not a rumor, but truth, she
would quit the country, and she is goiDg to
quit.
CORSET*.
N T| J b
o* •*
Being woven into shape, and seamless,
they attain a perfection which cannot
be secured in a Sewed Corset.
Novelty Corset Works,
Now York,
SOLE M ANITACTrUEBS.
JTL.OUH.
Hot Biscuits
For Breakfast;
Easy enough to make
One pint of
Cold Water,
One pound of
j&mmm—mmmmmmrnmmm
Seif=Raising
Flour.
Bake immediately
in a hot oven.
60
SHOES.
PERFECT FITTING SHOES
Are always a luxury and a luxury, too, which
our customers never fail to eujoy. When your
shoes fit your feet, your feet are fit for every
emergency. Pinched feet are a standing pro
test against ill fitting shoes. It’s a protest,
however, you can’t stund for very long, ana
luckily, you don’t need to stand it'at all We
can fit all feet from the largest to the smallest
with the exact size required. 111-fitting gar
ments are unsightly, but ill-fitting shoes are
painful as well as unsightly. Avoid both tile,
comfort and unsightliness by purchasing a pair
of perfectly fitting shoes from our stock. Our
shoes are nothing if not cheap, mi the assort
ment includes our Celebrated Ladies’ 82 SO but
ton Boots, the best ever shown In Savannah for
thelmoney.
BUTLER & MORRISSEY,
ISO BROUGHTON STREET,
FACE BLEAC H.
SMme. A, Ruppert’s New Book,
entitled : “ How to be Beautiful,**
FREE THIS WEEK.
A* th .° "J*® nt request of thousands of her patrons
Mme. A. Kunpe.rt, the world-renowned Complexion
Specialist and Famous Lecturer, has jr.gt published ,
handsome book, siting the public the benefit or her
years of study and experience. The book Is written in
plain and sensible lansrnage, showing how any one can
obtain and maintain perfection of the face and form
mme. A. RUPPERT, 6 EAST 14TH STREET. NEW YORK.
For Sale iu Savannah at GUTMAN'S, 141 Broughton street.
PUBI.ICATIONS.
THE 7 NEXT
morning news
NOVELETTE
WILL BE ISSUED WITH
The ; Sunday : News,
AND IS ENTITLED
-AL FALSE'.SCENT,
BY MRS. ALEXANDER.
FOB SALE BY ALL #g| s NTa
LEATHER (iOODs.
CONCORD WOOL COLLARS,
These are the only Collars made in the United States that
will do the work claimed for them. They are the exact shape
of a horse or mule’s neck and are intended especially for heavy
work.
We carry an immense stock of Rubber and Leather Belting,
Timber Harness, Hames and Traces.
NEiDLINGER &. RABUN,
164 St. Julian, 153 Bryan. Streets.
MEDICAL.
CHICHESTER'S ENGLISH. RED CROSS DIAMOND BRAND A
* rvuvis
THE ORIGINAL AND GENUINE. The only Utofo. Sure, and reliable FIJI for sale.
X ask Druggist for Chichester t English Diamond Brand in Kcd aad Ooid metallic \ y
boxes with blue ribbon. lake n ®tkr kind. JBfijVs* dut>t\tvHons and Imitations. v
Ail pills iu pasteboard boxes, pink wrappers, ar • dtuiC'.'fOßS enmiorfelU. At Druggists, or send ofl
Ftaraps for particulars, testimonials, and “Kdlef for Lisdiew.” in letter, b* re'arn Mail*
1 ©.<<><> Testimonials. Hamt Paver. CHICHESTEN CHEMICAL CO., M:tlleon !*nnnr*
Sold by nil Lo?*l VrngeUt*. PHILAmFIA,T*-
WHEELWRIGHT WORKS
Forest City Wheelwright Works
BUGGIES, i
CARRIAGES, I BUILT
\\ AGONS, L and
TRUCKS. | „
DRAYS, [ REPAIRED.
Horseshoeing, Blacksmithing,
Wheelwrighting and Car
riage Painting.
Finest Horseshoer3 in the
South.
T. A. WARD,
propriktor,
TELEPHONE 451.
MACHINERY.
Stilwell-Bierce & Sraith-VaileCo
Dayton, Ohio,
ENGINEERS, FOUNDERS & MACHINISTS.
Our Duplex Steam Pump3 and
Upright Boilers are especially
adapted to use among Turpen
tine Distilleries, Lumber Mills,
Brick Yards, Phosphate Mines,
Irrigating Plants, etc.
We respectfully call the at
tention of Turpentine Manu
facturers to our Pumps and
Boilers, and would be glad to
have them correspond with our
Southern Agent, J. W. Taylor,
Atlanta, Ga., who will give com
plete estimates on whatever is
wanted.
HUXVG i-il-NiG OH
GAS FIXTLKES AM GLOBES
L, A. MCCARTHY’S,
4LO UHAYTON BH
MEDICAL.
vmmam an ■■ ■■main m mowmmmmm* n buki .a-.- ■—j
PP®
Ml ft lEft A •
CURES ALL SKIN
AMD
BLOOD DISEASES.
*T*h7* ,( ln* emiotsu f*. \\ as a apUaild wisbia atioc. {
and prescribe it with at satisfaction fbr tee cure* of al! \
ri/? rm> „ nn< * *tßp'i of Primary, fctfgr.qdarr Tertiary
gyiTSlluT bypudiUo iLneucninia., aad
Bores, Glandular Bweliingt, Rheumatism, ALslarie, dd j
Cnroale Ulcers that ha resisted all tmt.Tont, Cate-n?. 1
[nnn c cures
I r.r.K teflisi
[
curlal Po'.soa, Tetter, Scald Head, etc., eta
—powerful tonic, #pd an qycoljent appat!aar ( j
p p p : *l
mmmm
baUdlng np-fii l/oiein rapidiy.
Ladies who id mtomi are poisoned and whose blood ts to J
•rnfmmiri^coridiiion^u^^meDstruallrryrularJtoavyeM^
RRR&fi
t^‘^thmsy"Tha ,B wcn3f*r?u^Tonlc ,, *M3 —
cleansing propertiea of P. P. P., Prickly Aab Poke Root
and Potnstimn,
Curls'dyspeps’iA
LIPPMAN BROS-, Proprietors,
Druggists, Lippuaana Block, SAVAMJ A3, QA*
mzrnmmm
f?EMor9N%9 Cr p^lvjj
C B°umoNS
TRUCK lUSKE.i,.
T RUCK ======
====== BASKETS
BUSHEL BASKETS FOR SHIPPING BEANS,
PEAS AND OTHER VEGETABLES.
BETTER THAN CRATES CALL
AND EXAMINE.
W, D. SIMKINS
OLD NEWSPAPERS—BOO tor a oealft-M
Business Office Morning News.
