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WHEN THE GOOD SHIP
“ LEGACY ” LANDED.
By HARWOOD BRIERLEY.
Copyrighted. li\ I y Harwood Brierlev
1.
Emily Tresser had been waiting more
ban 4 years for her good ship, "I>-pai y,"
.o land It had left Honolulu, the Sand
irich Isles, on Friday, Keb. 14. ISM, ‘n
command of Cousin Drumaooe tbachi lor).
From all conjectures he had purpose 1.,-
een baffled and detained by love of < x
fitement and excess in two or three of
;he gayest capitals en route for England,
where much of Emily's shtp had been bro
ten up! The ship, a gold one, weighed
l. 000 pounds sterling. This had been the
worldy all of Miss Tresser'a Uncle Tom.
who made It in Bolivia, and then
thought fit to retire with It into mid-p.i
tlflc, when he settled at royal Honolulu,
de had one son, for whom, however, he
tad no liking; hence, some years before
ois death he documentarily passed over
als possessions to his niece, charging the
other as a final request to convey the
gold to England and see it safely dolly
•red to the lawful legatee. This request
young Drumscoe, though pulling a wry
V>d incivll face, promised faithfully to
fulfill (whether he meant It or not), per
aaps merely so that his father's end mignt
oe peace.
Emily Tresser was dally expecting her
•hip to land.
Venus was the evening star when she,
with her lover, George Herring (who had
oeen a second mate), wandered in the
rural wild-rose lane that leads to Little
Hummlngton church, talking ever past
•cenes, present affairs, and future jiros
pects. •'it's only five years to-day, Georg >,
4nce my poor Unde Tom died,' said
Emily. "How time does drag when one
is Impatiently waiting for what is her
awn! You know, I gave Cousin Drumscoe
1, lot of months to come In, and he hasn t
:ome yet. This suspense is wearing me
jut—quite. If only my ship would come
to-morrow, you and 1, George, would "
"No, Emily, darling. 1 think I could not.
You know' how poverty-stricken 1 am.
And it is the man’s place to marry the
■roman; the vice versa is not permissible.
It would look unmanly on my part—selfish,
mercenary, cowardly. 1 put away all shab-
Diness when I left the sea.”
“O, you shouldn’t look shabby,” said
she naively. "Mr. Aston, the vicar, as
you very well know, wears both shabby
Soats and shabby caps, but you should
have at least three good new suits, out
of my ship-money."
“Thanks all th n same, my darling, but
nusbands should never be dependent on
their wife's bounty."
"You know what my uncle said. He
Ifcft me this money on condition that 1
married you.”
"I should glory In his kindness, and
adore him for It, Emily, had he not over
•tretched it.”
“No, he didn’t, George," she Immedi
ately. contradicted. “My Uncle Tom was
always good, kind and thoughtful, and If
his son had been dutiful—well, It would
Have been bad for me. Now, dear, 1
wrish to marry you; need I repeat that
aver so many times?" Her eyes, quick
movements, and capricious sentences were
alluring now. "If my uncle was so good
as to love you. to that degree. Just because
he knew that I loved vou, don't
you conscientiously think you
ought to do as he told us both
that night In Suthampton. He said (and
not Jokingly either) that I should at once
become his heiress-apparent If I would
make a vow to marry you and none other.
George Herring, you heard me Jump at
that happy proposal, and you heard me
■>■ /Yes. Uncle.’ Then you told him you
wouH thing no more about Southampton
ships, or salt pork, or Australian liners,
but stay ashore, turn Inland, make money,
and marry. But hitherto, you see. you
have been nastily plucked, everybody be
ing 'full up.’ The real reason is. dear,
that nautical men have not the
knack of ordinary commercial affairs, or
the ’entree' to bookkeeping offices, where
•mart handwriting and address are req
uisite. Your capabilities lie In different
grooves, your notions are breezy, and
even your walk Is queer. Therefore. I w ish
you to bother no more about a berth on
land: I ask you to be a gentleman—when
my ship lands—and grow grandmatna and
myself good potatoes, peas, and Virginia
stocks. I wonder, now. If my ship Is still
nearly as far off as Venus yonder?”
"If It were." he replied, humorously; "I
should still have time to complete a lad
der to the sun ere its arrival. Nothing
has been heard of Mr. Drumscoe, per
haps?”
"Not a syllable since he left Honolulu
five years ago. Conjecture Is sufficient for
Wits—.he is trading with my cargo in a.li
sorts of marble cities, or else hr thus died
on the way! Oh, George, I do hone he
hag not called at St. I’etershurg. l'atagon
la, or Parts especially. Of course, he is
Indifferent as to w-aste of time, for he
naturally owes me a right big grudge!"
"Emily, you may never see vour ship or
lt-contents. And it may ali be for the
best that you should not. Our trust <n
riches ts vain and deterrent 1o the work
ing of the soul. As for men. they are
easily tempted and led astrav; neither
your cousin nor myself is worth trusting
bj" such an angel as yourself, (live me but
your consent, darling, and 1 will go again
to sea. for It was there that I learnt my
trade and made the bread of mv boyhood.
If it were not for your tie. I should posi
tively go abroad again to-morrow. As vou
•re so precious to me. 1 will have at least
two days longer.”
Her tears came unbidden. But he kissed
them all away, and by something better
than muscular strength gave her all the
Support she needed. Emily Tresser's Ideas
and desires were gospel to George Herring
from this moment. There was no help for
It: he could not face the raving main again
while she. In his picturesque imagination,
stood wistfully deploring his departure. He
must stay here in Little Hummlngton if
Anlv for her sake, and become her hus
band ; although everybody else seemed to
reject him in such a manner as only a
nincompoop or a vile sinner could be re
jected. Poor George! how unfortunate It
was that he loved so well. He was no no
vice in common sense, no notoriety In stut
tiloquence, no mass of human presump
tion; and therefore he owned to himself
that It would he a retrogression on the
part of the woman who, at the greatest
crisis qf her life, stopped over to engage
herself In the unalterable matrimonial
bond with him. He knew quite well that,
according to the fortune or the fate that
awaited woman, by the marriage-step, shf
jnight either grasp a duohess.ship or have
a arugde-hood thrust upon her. However,
on the other hand. Emily Tresser herself,
no less sensibly argued that money and
social advancements were only minor
considerations in the hour of selecting a
life-partner; for those were not actual
parts ar attributes of a man—only his ac
cessories, which might but be regarded as
Indispensable if the male ideal were set
■up prior to the less mercenary love of a
noble character not seductively glamoured
by a banking account ami adventitious
thousands.
She parted from her George Herring
at the gateway that leads up to her grand
monther's dwell!ng;the young man him
self sauntering slowly in the direction
of his more deficient lodging, where Mrs.
Garth had commenced to grumble hour
ly because he was one week In arrear
with his rent.
11.
Although money is the root of all evil,
yet men must not affect to despise that
which God has placed so high In power.
Nobody can live a pleasant life without
It. Many minds are concentrated upon
’lts ancient glitter, every eye Is on the
look out for Its arrival, every hand Is ready
to grasp It when It comes. Emily Tr.Tsor
was entertained by such thoughts as
these as she lay In bed that night unable
to come to any satisfactory compromise
with the eyelids of slumber. In times
departed the saying used to be "Live and
let live.” Later this became more practical.
•’Live If you can." To-day It is, however
perverted Into "You shall not live at all.
If I can help It." "God. whal a selfish
world we live In!” These were George
Herring’s thoughts as on that same night
be aat poring over certain chapters on
hitman capacities and healthy resources
.. "lumber at last overtook Emily
H did not eetn to t> ( many ticks u! thu
clock before the arrival of ffoMen morn
ing fillet! like a aooillar.d recess with the
cheep!n, chirruping and carrolins - of mul
titudinous birds*. They were all rejoicing,
and Kmily herself felt happy ;:n*l free,
an thouqh she had been new born Then
came the postman's knock at the cottage
door, an-1 her heart leaped up as at the
sour.-l of the trumpet. Hhe riresse'l in a
few minutes and hastened downstairs.
Urandmamma Tresser had been up fully
an hour. She had prepared the breakfast,
and there was one sprink of bacon oil
or. her spectacles. It was quite plain
that Kmily had overslept herslf, although
she was received with the usual kiss
and smil* from that gentle old body, her
gramimama. who this morning seemed
greatly excited.
“Here is something for you from South
ampton. Kmily,” said she, handing the
letter. *'lt may be news about Austin.”
The passionate yotinx lady tore open
the envelope (and heroines, as well a**
anybody, can tear their envelopes and
their hair).
Mrs. Tresner’s grandaughter then read
the following:
“Dearest Kmily—
*T shall be with you a few hours after
you get this; not, though, with a view of
asking you to forfeit your fortune, but
!<• accept what is left of It, and my own
self to balance the deficiency. Yours
lovingly, Austin Drumscoe.”
was news both good and bad.
Austin was alive, and he would doubt
less soon be at Kittle Humming’ton, but
not untainted by the disgrace of liar.
sjendthrift, and robber. Kmily, however,
• lid not faint, or with the brushes of agi
tation or vexation paimt a deathly pallor
on her skin, or Its red, full-blooded ex
treme. To have gone on that way would
have been nonsensical and childish. She
merely sat down to eat her breakfast,
the vital note propped against the white
.sugar basin before her; and. afterward,
she read, as usual, some eomforting pas
sages out of the family Bible to her feeble
old tfraTHlmama and herself. Then she
set about her daily household duties—first
the cleaning, then the cooking. She was
soon In the midst of sage onions and
bread for a grand, savory pudding, softly
singing all th- time, just as she was wont
to do every day. Kmily Tresser was. In
deed, more practical than most girls.
Ami she meant to be more practical still
when her cousin, Drumscoe, came with
the golden ship and the mercenary appeal.
“Kmily, dear.” said Mrs. Tresser, tremb
ling for her grandchild's sake, “if 1 had
anything at all to compensate you with,
you should not accept any part of your
I'ncle Tom's legacy. His Own son should
have inherited It; anybody else doing so
Is an interloper.”
"Hut, grandmnma, a man may surely
do as he chooses with his own. And my
uncle was In complete possession of his
senses when he made the last will and
testament that provides both you and me
with a god-send. Yes, and he highly ap
prove l George Herring at Southampton,
and he told tne there what I might expect,
and how 1 was to go on iri future."
Old Mrs. Tresser was silent again, al
though her knitting sounded loud.
Kmily served the hens with their din
ner before anyl>ody else. Austin Drumscoe
was expected. every minute, and vartous
suggestions wore made as to what he
would look like, how he would account for
his long procrastination In foreign cities,
how he could hear to part at all with the
money he was supposed to he bringing,
and what he would say when he could
not marry the lawful owner of it.
Y'es, he came before the dinner things
had been cleared away; but surely he had
not expected to receive a cordial wel
come, and the best fatted calf in that
cottage home? Kmily refused him even
the Invisible little sacrifice of a kiss. Aus
tin's ap]H*arance was gaunt and greedy,
dark, and dreadful. Of
ceremony or etiquette he appeared to have
no knowledge, flinging himself down in
a chair and immediately calling for a
pitcherful of best beer. He did not con
gratulate hla relatives on their looking
w ell, nor did he comment on Kngiajid be
ing a lovelier country than America. Aus
tralia or the Sandwich Isles. He was
Indubitably a man who loved himsHf, the
world and the riches thereof, and could
draw those things to himself by a mar
velous cent ripe teney not known to the
majority of selfish minds.
Was this the man who had been en
trusted to convey to an innocent and
lovely country girl in far-away Kngland
her great fortune of ten thousand pound*?
Amongst the flowering peas in the kitch
en garden Kmily might later have been
seen with Austin Drumscoe, who was try
ing to beguile her thus;
"You have now your two thousand
pounds. Kmily, and 1 could do with them
very well. 1 know you ought to have had
ten thousand, but, you see, 1 wanted
eight to settle mv debts, and then indulge
in a little high falutin fo* a year or so.
However, that is done with, and here you
and I are, the one wanting a husband.the
other a wife. It’s time I settled down,
little cousin—it’s killing work, this skip
ping and dancing all over the land, by
both day and night. Now’, no cleric ob
jects to splice cousins, unless the groom
Is niggardly about fees. Kmily, you and
I will be spliecd—do you hear? My dear,
you are good enough for me.”
"Austin, you are selfish, and you are
cruel. Oh. I did not think that manhood
could bo sown over with such bad, coarse
seeds. I would rather die this day than
accede to your request.”
“Who’s this Herring, pray?” demanded
he. fiercely. A common fisherman, 1 sup
pose.”
“He is a nobleman without an actual
title.”
"Oh. he is, is he?—bah!”
"Don’t sneer, or 1 shall—Well, never
mind: George and I will be married in a
few weeks.”
“Not if l know it.” exclaimed Drumscoe.
setting his teeth. "Satan and I will play
you the better side in that game!”
111.
A few weeks passed over. GeWse Her
ring had by this (Ime found respectable
employment for his late seafaring hands
and head in the neighboring town of
Templeborough, so that there was Just
occasion for great rejoicing, and the act
ing of the marriage day. As will have
been seen, Emily’s good ship "Legacy"
had lost four-fiths of its cargo during
the passage, the captain himself having
turned out to be a complete fraud. But
as George satd, there was much to he
thankful for. and more than sufficient
in hand to keep the wolf from the door,
even If other sources all failed. Nobody,
not even Justice with the scales in hand,
could say that Austin had not had his
share: and Emily, pressed no matter how
much, was determined that he sould not
Unger another penny of this money. If
he turned robbrr or forger, or anything
of that kind, he would have to go to
prison: if he turned extortioner—but no,
that was beyond Austin’s lubricity.
The marriage was not to affect do
mestic matters much. Few preparations
had to be made for it. George would
have no furnishing to do, and Emily no
silk dresses or bride-cake to pay for
There would be no grand honeymoon—no
house to air. Emily, in fact, was not
going to change her home, Mrs. Tresser
was not going to be driven forth: George
would simply come and take the rent
and rates in hand, remedy the sink-pipe
when it refused to swallow, help to kites and
the bread when his wife was tired, rend
tales in an evening to her and his new
grandparent, and when nights were sum
mery anil fair, make more love to the
former In the wild-rose bower where the
butterflies sipped nectar. Besides living
in this way—and always pursuing the
business which Providence had but late
ly vouchsafed to him so near this glori
ous fairy-land—he would have plenty of
fresh air and exercise in digging up the
potatoes, pulling the pea-pods, and weed
ing the mignonette. This, then, was tu
idyllic programme that no retired domes
tically ineiinetl sailor could have t orn -J
The pans had been thrice publish, and
The marriage morn had come. Mr. Aston,
the vicar, of Little Hummlngton, was
behind the altar-rails waiting to solemn
ize the nuptials. Hut the bride-groom was
not where he ought to have been, before
them. In readiness for the approaching
bride.
Tick-tack, ttek-laek. Emily whs watt
ing behind I lie set-tie, In the vestry, where
the clock was hard at work, struggpng
over these moments of suspense ||..r
aged grandmatna (who had tom.- to gn.-
licr hwhv), and Emily’s best frietid is
brideimaid, were lit Up vestry, too. These
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, APRIL 28. 1895.
three so far comprised the marriage party.
Nothing but an occasional cough marred
! the solemn silence of the church.
Still the bridegroom did not ‘ome.
Everybody got uneasy at last, and some
! t>egan to steal out of their pears, telling
ea< h other as they left the churchyard
1 that If this was not a bad beginning for
;.t bride they did not know what was.
The vicar (also unaccustomed to such
bad management on the side of "parties”
about to b received into the holy bonds
! <*f matrimony), came down- th** aisle pres
; • ntiy, his clericals fluttering behind. The
bride-elect, her aged grandparent, and the
young bridesmaid were wondering if pos
sibly they could have been left in th*
lurch. Mr. Aston did his best to comfort
poor Kmily, w hose ey s were now brim
ming with tears. It was a sad scene, es
pecially when the sexton before very long
brought word that the bridegroom was
“incapable.”
What girl placed in Emily Tresser'a
present position would not have broken
flown in tears? What clergyman, on the
arrival of such news as this, would not
have had as great sympathy with the girl
as if she had been his own daughter?
“Oh. Mr. Aston!” cried she. “1 am so
unfortunate, so unhappy. And my poor
grandmother, too; what will she think of
George?"
“Dear, do not fret about me.” trembled
out the gentle lady. While Mr. Aston in
quired ;
“Had vou. Miss Tresser, any idea before
this hour that the man you loved took
strong irink?”
“No, Mr. Aston . . no I had not. It
is the first time. . Oh. I see through
it all now . . it is quite clear to me.
My George has been tempted by my
wicked cousin for a wicked purpose!”
She ilashed aside her tears with madam-
Iv will. Her symptoms of weak effemina
cy were dispersed, and she rose equal
to the • ii ng expressed her
a great waste of time and trouble, she
hurried out of the church. Inclosed her
self in the bridal cab. and was driven
off to Mrs. Garth’s. Her unceremonious
departure was for a few moments mutely
wondered at, Mr. Aston afterwards re
marking how strange it was that the
most desirably festal day of Miss Tress
er’s life should have been so misruled
by circumstanc es as to make it an occa
sion for everlasting bitter memories.
Kmily soon reached George’s old lodg
ings. Mrs. Garth was there, drawing a
large haddock for dinner. She wiped her
hands, and then shf swore that the
young man and another had been drink
ing hard all through the night, and that
Mr. Herrin' had got visited by the Matin’
delirious trimmings, and that his present
silence was not repentance but reaction.
Kmily, however, was not convinced. Mrs.
Garth had to lead her upstairs; and there
was George lying unable to move or
make a sound—so different a George from
the tleorge of yesterday.
“Oh, thirling.” whispered he, when he
opened his eyes and saw her. “this is
most sad and unlooked for-that is, we
did not look for this sad event yesterday.
You have been tearful, Kmily—and not
without reason. Oh. may you forgive
me! Mrs. Garth would not send word to
the church, and I could not stir from
my bed to find any other messenger. She
believes every word that Austin Drums
coe told her In lies about me. Anti I
heard her tell the sexton when he came
that I was ‘incapable;' and so I am—yes,
1 am st* far as rising from my bed goe*.
The whole truth Is. Drumscoe was drink
ing here last night, but I had only one
glass of champagne with him, and a pois
on was in it! See the color of my skin,
Kmily, and the proudness of my flesh
Darling. I am dying; but you may not
kiss me.”
She stood as one petrified for a moment.
Then she came again to life, and said:
“God will yet save you. God and Dr.
Drew.”
“Walt just a moment; there is something
of vital Importance. If you send Dr. Drew,
follow later with Mr. Aston. Do, please,
Emily. We must be married at any cost,
and 'here, to-day’ I told .your cousin—oh,
1 was not in my right senses then, Emily—
I told your cousin last night that if i mar
ried you at all it should he to-day; and
that 'if I did not marry you to-day, he
might then “
“George, dear, rest content. 1 understand
your meaning. No matter what is the doc
tor’s opinion, or the clergyman’s objection,
we must, will be married to-day, and in
this room. Austin shall be given into the
care of the police. God will grant you a
new lease, and I will do my best ever af
terwards to keep you In good health.”
Bast the scowling countenance of Mrs.
Garth. Emily hurried out into the street
eh or cab had gone.) and with fears and
hopes that kept her from sinking too low or
Roaring too high, .he reached Dr. Drew’s
surgery, and summoned him to at once
attend George Herring with the stomach
pump. George’s life was thus saved. Soon
afterwards. Drew sent a constable to ar
rest Austin Drumscoe on a charge of pois
oning. At the hour he was arrested (3 p.
m.), both the vicar and Emily were in
George’s room: and if you like to have it
so. Mrs. Garth's house was consecrated
by having a clergyman Inside It for the
first time. The marriage-service was rev
erently solemnized, and reverently wit
ness'd bv Dr. Drew and Mrs. Garth, the
latter feeling very pefiitent after her eruci
tles mis judgments, and hurtful misstate
ments. It is said that she gave over gos
siping, and presented the bridegroom with
a three -guinea clock.
The End.
ABE THESE XBASES IDBATK'ALf
It Is Aovv tint,l the Cnpncltj ,o Smell
and Taste Have the Same Origin.
From the Now York World.
The man wlto smoked in the dark one
night and discovered that when he couldn’t
sc- the smoke all the pleasure of burning
tobacco was lost is not more remarka
ble than the individual who has now dis
covered that the senses of taste and of
smell arc identical. This gentleman ad
vances the theory that the sense of taste
depends upon the number of minute ten
tacles which constitute the surface of the
tongue, and he says that some men have
three times as many of these as others.
The latter never become gourmands and
their sense of smell Is, says this observer,
deficient.
In proof of these assertions It is said
that when you have a bad cold you al
most. lose these senses—that you can
neither detect delicate odors, like that of
perfume, otherwise so noticeable, nor
Identify the flavors of different kinds of
foods and drinks. The smoker who has
a severe cold finds that his cigar or ci
garette yields but little pleasure and he
finds that his glass of claret or cham
pagne at dinner is almost as flat to the
taste as so much water.
Brillat-Savarin, who lifted cooking from
the kitchen to the library and made gas
tronomy a tine art, said that of ail the
senses in their natural state taste pro
cures us the greatest number of enjoy
ments. For this he gives six reasons, as
follows:
Because the pleasure of eating, taken in
moderation, ts the only one that is not fol
low'd by fatigue.
Because it is common to every age, time
ami condition.
Because it must return once at lt-asr ev
ery dav. and may during that space of
time be easily repeated two or three times.
Because it" can combine with all our
other pleasures, and even console us for
their absence.
Because its sensations arc at once more
lasting than others and more subject to
our will.
Because we have a certain special hut
undeflnable satisfaction arising from the
instinctive knowledge that by the very
act of eating we are making good our
losses and prolonging our existence.
These are the reasons advanced by this
eminent writer to prove that taste is
the most important of the senses. He was
always one of the first to suspect the iden
tity of the senses of taste and smell and
he "said that of two guests seated at the
same banquet one may have delicious sen
sations while the other seems to eat only
because compelled, the reason being that
the latter lias tongue and nostrils only
poorlv furnished for enjoyment. It is
thus that the emtiire of taste has its
blind men and its deaf.
—Mrs. Bellamy Storer, the wife of Con
gressman Storer of Cincinnati, is said to
have the most complete private pottery
possessed by any woman When the
Ptoter house, on Ithode Island avenue. In
Washington, was remodelled. Mrs. Storer
hud the two upper stories of a w ing turned
Into a studio an I potter) , w here she spends
all her leisure time. Hhe was the origina
tor ot the Rockford works In CinelnnMl,
and the pottery studio in Washington con
tains everything from the clay mixtures
(or nhitee works, which stand about to
gr, at Jars, to the finest t ails for the bu*|.
ness. Mrs Storer casts her own pieces,
tits them ill a beautiful kiili, decorate*
lhe clay In original dtcigus, glages mid
tires tu a finish.
THE OLDEST PERSONS.
AO 4 H H4BT AAD HARRIET M’Mt R
HAV HAVE TH AT DIOTIA4TIOI.
Saw (it nra. 4% nahingf ttn—The (till
Wttittttit Given Vivid it it <1 lalrrr.t.
ing ■irniinlarrart** off lira. JnrL
nun.
From the New York Herald.
I* Noah Baby of the Bis. itawiy poor
r.-f rm. New Jersey, the oldest man in the
world? If the story of his life which he
tells be true, he has passed his 123d birth
day.
It was about years ago,
according to his recollection, that Noah
Raby, ordinary seaman, received his dis
charge papers from the stanch frigate
Brandywine, which had just finished a
cruise of inspection of the various ports
of the Ignited States and was then docked
at the Brooklyn navy yard. The day
after he left the naval service he betook
himself to New Jersey, where he joined
himself to a farmer and for money agreed
to serve as a hired man. Since that time
he has never stepped outside the bounda
ries of New* Jersey. For more than half
a century, with more or less steadiness,
he followed the occupation he had chosen,
and then, twenty-eight years ago, being
full of years decidedly
averse to earning his own
living any longer, he settled down
at the poor farm in the township of Pis
cataway, not far from New Brunswick,
and there he has since remained.
To-day he is totally blind, but his eyes,
though sunken, have thf sparkle of one
who can see perfectly. His body is bent
and his shoulders are contracted, but the
muscles of his arms and legs are firmer |
than those of many a man not yet thirty. :
His jaws are toothless and his words are :
uttered with a whistling accompaniment,
but his voice is strong and full and his
laugh is hearty as it was a century and
more ago. His long hair is white, but
thick and luxuriant; his whiskers are
iron gray, his heavy, bushy eyebrows are
still almost jet black, and he can dispose
ot a solid drink of good rye whisky with
a sort of a smack that betokens the heart
iest relish. Though he believes his father
to have been an Indian, his skin is white,
and his features are of a pronounced Cau
casian type.
When Raby was twenty-one he got away
from Mr. Mill#* Field's* (plantation, in
Gates county, N. C., where h*- was born,
and started out to find employment.
“I h*red out to the Widow Penelope,”
said Raby, “to be her overseer, for S2OO a
year. I stayed there almost five years,
and then I left to work for her daughter
in-law’, the Widow’ Sarah Barker. She was
well oft, too, but not like the old widow.
When the young widow wanted me to be
her overseer, the old widow’ offered me
150 a year more to remain on her farm,
but you see, I thought maybe 1 could mar
ry the young widow’. If I was smart, and
then her plantation ami the niggers and
the big 'house and the tar kilns would be
mine. Well, my plan would have worked,
yes. suh. If I hadn't fallen in love. No, not
with anybody else, but with the widow
herself, I was all tangle.i up, heels over
head in k>ve with her. Why, the ground
w'here she stool looked crooked, suh, and
1 got afraid of *her. No, suh, I didn’t have
the brass to tell her 1 wae in love with her
I could not have told her. sure. My half
brother in the navy, and says ‘he to
me:
‘ “If you’re in a love scrape, Noah, there
ain’t but one thing to <l<>. and that is to
come with us and go on a cruise.’ ”
“So 1 got right out that very night,
without settling up or saying anything to
anybody.
“It was at Portsmouth and Norfolk,
suh. that I shipped,” the old man con
tinued, “and 1 shipped on the Constitu
tion—the Oon-sti-tu-tlon. suh. She had
been a great vessel once, but then she
was old and used for a receiving ship.
Well, I worked for a year on the Constitu
tion, going up and down the ratlines to
the top on the mast, but no further. I
never got to be anything more than an
ordinary seaman. I (IMn t want to he an
able seaman. I didn’t want to go'higher up
the mast than the top.’ That was as near
heaven as I ever wanted to go till my time
came.
“After I’d been on the Constitution a
year I went on the Brandywine, on the
inspection cruise. Do I remember tin*
captain’s name? You bet 1 do. It was
Karragut. He was a fine, portly, good
looking man. suh. and another man of
the same name was a big captain after
ward. No, I was never flogged, but I've
*een lots of others punished. Once 1 come
near being, but it was just because t
tried to get away when someone else
was being punished. Which of the ports
we visited did l like the best? “All of
’em, suh—all of ’em. I could have shore
leave three times a week when we were
in port, and w r e could always find ways
of having good times—there was always
bright eyes to shine on Jack Tar in them
old days, suh—certain.”
it was while he was at Norfolk and
Portsmouth that Raby says he heard Gen.
Washington make a speech. Itaby is not
certain what the general was talking
about, but there is no doubt in the old
est man’s mind that the father of his
country was indignant and excited.
“Yes, suh.” said Raby, “I saw’ the old
gineral and 1 heard him talk. He was
pretty mad. too—oh. gracious, yes! I shall
never forget one tiling he said—it has
stuck to me most a hundred years now :
“ ‘Go right on, fellow citizens, as you
have been going on. and I assure you that
we shall have the devil to pay In th s
republic and no pitch pot!”
“While 1 was in Brooklyn navy yard
I got leave one day and went out to see
a monstrous pretty burying ground—
Greenwood, they call it now, I hear. A
man who came to see me two or three
years ago told me that they bury a lot
of folks every day there now—that the
bodies go to that burying ground just
like an everlasting stream of water. Oh,
my gracious! what big cities New York
arid Brooklyn must be if that’s true.
“I left the navy because I was afraid
there Vi bf.- war,and I didn’t want to fight.
Well, there was a war, but I didn’t see no
flgjhttaar, onfly on the sea. and then I was
on land and a good ways off. I’ve lost
mv discharge paj>ers and I’m sorry. If
1 had 'em maybe I could get a pension,
ami, an way, 1 could prove my age by
them.” , , . .
Previous to the recent municipal elec
tion at Wichita., Kan.. Mrs. Harriot Mc-
Murray, a colored woman, appeared be
fore the olty clerk and desired to be reg
istered.
“What is your age, Auntie?” asked the
head clerk of the registration depart
in' n?.
“Daw me, Cap'n! Ax me sump m easy,
ejaculated the old lady. “AM 1 kin toll
you, s>ah, “is dat I wuz in the resolution
ary wah. My ole massa’s Bible was dun
bulled up by de fiah befo’ he sold mammy
and me and Sophy to dat dah Runnel Rob
i’son.” . ’
The clerk listened with curiosity and
viewed the old lady skeptically.
“I want ter vote for Masfltu Pox,” con
tinued Aunt Harriet, “for he dun gib Dick,
my daughter Cha’ity’s man, work fcn de
streets when de poo’ niggah needed it.”
The mathematicians and historians of
the registration bureau plied the old lady
with questions, and finally gathered
enough data to put her down at 115 years
of age.
“I ’spec I he that ole, anyway,’ said
Aunt Harriet, “and maybe mo’.”
Ten Idays afterward “Auntie Harriet"
rode down to the polk* in Alderman Mel-
Mnger’s carriage, bearing herself as proud
ly as a peacock. Anrlfhe voted. She was
arrayed in the fashionable bric-a-brac of a
century. She w f ore a shawl that her old
“missus” gave her in Tennessee three
quarter* of a century a quahvt-look
ing white cap. resplendent in a wealth of
ruffles, which her young “missus” had
given her s.s a wedding present, and an
antique cloth cape, brilliant fen cloth beads,
which had fallen into her hands at th<*
death of an old maid sister of her lan
master, about twenty years, she think*,
before the era of freedom.
Aunt Harriett is a very sensible old wo
man, but she had one dominating weak
ness. and that is to be in touch “wif de
quality.” In her estimation she reuche/j
the up>x of honor when she rode in the
carriage of an alderman to the polls and
had Mayor Pox, who was running for re
election. tip his hat to her
But that ride- that triumphant ride—
may cost her her life, for through vanity
she discarded her woollens to wear th*
ancient finery of bygone days and < aught
a ad cold, which has developed imo the
P-D. •uh," (be ci<J in rt'l'ly to a qu?a-
tlon, "I kean't Jus' tell how ole I am. but
flat town clerk <lone figured me out ai
115. ’He told me I wa* ole enough to vote."
and the old lady laughed heartily at her
own wtt.
"How far back can you remember?” she
was asked.
"De furtherrst back I ken remember !s
the 'Resoiutiorary' wah. I was den a lit
tle tot. but I remember heahjng the guns
Halting neah Baltimo*. and the sojers
bringing a kerr.al dat was done shot
thro' the bowels into daddy’s cabin and
mammy nu'sing him till he died. My
massa was Kernal Deaplano den, but *ic
died soon an' my young missus marry
one of dem dar Irishmen dat was In de
wah. He done run through all the poo
chile’s property, and In de break-up mam
my and me and Sophy was sold on de
block to Blunt Bob'son an’ taken to Texx
ndsee.”
’’Did you ever see Gen. Washington?”
“I done see Gen'l Washington wh< n
massa let mammy an' us chil'en go down
to Alexandry to see grandaddy. Gen’l
Washington was sitting in a big red rock
in' cheer in de ftorcfi. He had ruffles all
up and down his short front, and silk
stockings and hair— |atwfrful while hair.”
"How old were you then?"
’’la* me. boss, I kean’t tell you. I
was consid’able of a girl, for befo’ gwine
to see grar.daddy 1 done made a shirt for
him. 1 s'pose I was 15 yeahs old den, or
mo."
“Did you ever see Thomas Jefferson?"
“I doan know nothin’ about him, sah.
All de generals I knowed was Gen'l Wash
ington aadn # and Gen'l Jackson."
"When *1 id you see Gen. Jackson?"
"De first time I saw General Jackson
w_as w-hen he kem back from de wah at
h'eworleans. My massa was don Kernal
Ridley, and he done fit wif de general in
de wah. What was he? 1 ’clara I done
forgit what he was. He gave de sojers de
bread an’ things."
"Quartermaster?”
"Dat was it. Well, when dey come hack
from de w-u.it dere was a big dinnah at
Nashville, an' everybody front ail the ken
try 'roun' as fah ns Murfeesboro was dar,
niggers an' ov’rybody. Kv'rythins was free
an’ clean white eallker cloth klvered tie
tables. Kernal Ridley 'lowed all us niggers
to go an' we had a gran' time. General
Jackson was at de tort of de table, and
he made a big speech, I tell you. He done
tole how de Tennessee boys done liektrt
de red coats, an' ev'rybody, niggers, too,
cheered him. "
Aunt Harriet is well versed in the affairs
of the war of '1?, for she was Col. Rid
ley's housekeeper ami heard him telling
his wife all about It. She described what
he said about the suffering of the soldiers
from hunger, and how they ate fat dogs.
“I was dreff'ly skeered," she said, "when
de kernal said he was afeared they woir! 1
eat people, for I was big an' fat an’ 1 had
two chili uns that was fat as butter.
“Gen'l Jackson,” she continued, “was
♦all an' straight, an' hardy, an’ would
fight the black devil hisself. He would light
a duel at de drop of de hat. an’ he wam't
a bit feared of witches. He was cornin'
home from 'lection one night, tin’ -a big
ghost tackled him in de middle of tie
road. He drew his pistols an' when do
ghost done saw dat ho turned hisself into
a pigeon -an' flew away as fast as dose
wings would carry him.”
Strange to say, she knows but little
about Abraham Lincoln. She knows that
he had something to do with freeing her,
but it is doubtful if she considers freedom
a blessing. She has been a widow forty
years, her husband having died of cholera
at Nashville.
A VAMSHItG IMH STIIY.
There Is But I.lttle Demand Nowa
days In Amerieu for the Cliimnt-y
Sweep.
Colorado Springs Letter to Philadelphia
Times.
Chimney-sweeping as a trade is now al
most extinct, yet during its life it never
has suffered from the encroachments of
the inventor. This makes it interesting.
Asa trade' it is almost dead, partly
because of the reconstruction of chim
neys, but chiefly because of the almost
universal use of hard or anthracite coal.
To sec a chimney-sweep nowadays on the
streets of an eastern city Is a curiosity—
how much greater is the surprise of an
easterner to ilnd a sweep following his
vocation at a cloudy hight on the Rocky
mountains? it was an Interesting and
profitable half-hour's conversation I had
with Isaac Hawkins—now in the prime of
life—who has given up just thirty-two
years in the “soot service” in all parts
of the world, and now for the lime being
is located In the Rocky mountains, because
soft coal is burned there and it "forces”
his trade.
Hawkins was born in Bristol, Kngland.
and before he was S years of age he was
apprenticed for live years to a wealthy
chimney-sweep contractor, who employed
scores of boys and had grown Independ
ently rich.
After serving bis apprenticeship be
worked several years In London, and be
ing slim and adventuresome, he did the
climbing and cleaning himself. Then he
wandered all over the glots-. and at last
located in the United States. From the
Atlantic seaboard lie migrated to Illinois,
and from there to Colorado, which the an
nual consumption of soft coal convinced
him was the place for him.
'"l'm proud of the trade," Hawkins said,
"for it takes brains if it doesn't look it—
and then the excitement used to be fine—
but that's all gone now, and I'm afraid the
trade. I’ve never had any narrow escapes
in this country, but as a boy in the old 1
just loved It—and the worst fines that
came along so much the better. Vou peo
ple over here, outside of a few houses in
Boston, New York and Philadelphia, and
some of the English built houses in the
south, have the smallest flues I ever saw.
No boy could get his arm up, let alone
slide up himself.
But as to wages Hawkins had a dif
ferent story to tell.
"A joh that would pay me, say 90 cents
In London, over here would be worth at
least $2. Oh, It's not an uncommon thing,
sir. before you are through with your last
morning nap, for me to have made my $4.
But (hat is in this country, you under
stand. Then again, you don't have the
market here for soot. Why, in tho old
country, when 1 was learning the trade,
our boss, who was worth a good many
thousand dollars, used to get 12 cents a
bushel for soot—they used it as a fer
tilizer.
“Oh, yes, there was another thing I
forgot to toll you." went on Hawkins,
“On the other side in some places we
weren't allowed to call out "sweep.” In
Folkr-tone we were comitelled to have a
bell and go along the streets ringing it.
At Bristol we had to use a horn. But
that came too high, for when we'd start
up to do a job and leave our tools, such
as hand scrapers, brushes and shovels,
outside, the youngsters would run away
with that bloomin' horn. Now. there's
the difference 1n this country. Not that
the youngsters wouldn't get awav with
our horns If they had a chance, hut you
oan do as you blessed please, veil all
you're nv*nd to.
“Why do I wear this big hat?” and
here Hawkins gave a slv wink. “No
earthly use. sir, but ft advertises mv
business and it amuses your j>eople. They
look at it and then at me and wonder
what Insane man is out. Now. that is
Just what I want. When 1 see them In
terested I sing out my trade." and with
a pleasant Nod Hawkins turned and walk
ed away, uttering as he went those two
weird notes, one low and strong, the other
high and shrill: "Sweep-Oh! SweeplOhl"
The Dog Never tame Buck.
From the Philadelphia Record.
The station master of one of the subur
ban stations on the main line of the Penn,
sylvanta railroad Is just now bemoaning
the fate of a pet dog, who disappeared
last week In a most startling manner. Toe
dog had a habit of running alter the
trains as they nulled away from the sta
tion, and, fastening his teeth in the rear
steps, would try to pull them hack A
freight train stopping at the station list
Friday, and, knowing the dog's habit a
waggish brakeman fastened a cow’s tali
to the coupling iron at the rear of the
train Mr. Dog immediately seized tills in
his mouth, and. as the train moved away
began pulling and tugging at |t witii
might and main. Faster and faster mov
ed the train, and when the dog ined to h :
go he must have found that his t. th
were caught In the row s tails. At toy
rate, the last seen of hlrn he was bee*
pulled along in the wake of the train .
veloped In a cloud of dust. And, utllite
the proverbial cat, he never nuns la. k.
—An admirer of Edgar Allan p.e *u-
f jests as a means of in. reas.-ig the . ..at n
•uiumw io t fun*4 lor i monu
ment in Haiumor*. u>.it ro+*%
N ills grave and he told at Ui. , pure**
THE GOSSIP OF GOTHAM TOWN.
WHY MR. WHITNEY HAS BECOME
AN ALLY' OF Mil. CHOKER.
An Expected Sensation—Nexv York
Yet to Be Shocked by Revelations
of the Plutocracy—Mrs. Astor's
Home Coming.
New York. April 27.—Richard Croker is
now in the thick of the New York politi
cal situation. He has been, perhaps,
forced to permit himself to be placed in
that position, for, although he is not
nearly so adverse to political life as has
been alleged, his brilliantly opened turf ca
reer seems more pleasing to him. The
question now is, how he will manage
Tammany's affairs. But the answer to
it may be had in what has been accom
plished already. Tammany is to be made
thoroughly respectable. The fatal mistake
of permitting the organization to fail into
the hands of disreputables is not likely
to be made again. It is an open secret
in the Wigwam that all the shady char
acters will be eliminated. But more than
this, men of position will be brought
into the ranks. Among these are men
like William C. Whitney, the Belmonts
and a few others of equal standing in the
world outside as well as inside politics.
Some incredulity has been expressed as
to the truthfulness of statements that
men of this sort would ally themselves
with Tammany in the organization's pres
ent condition. Such incredulity reveals
a misunderstanding of the situation.
There is no man in the city of New York
more friendly to Tammany than William
('. Whitney. His great wealth is almost
wholly in municipal franchises, and in I
corporations created through the city I
government at a time when tile latter
was entirely in Tammany hands. A nod
would convert the Tammany men in_ the |
legislature into so many foes to Whit
ney's corporations. Notwithstanding all
that has been said regarding the eman
cipation of corporations from the neces
sity of paying political tribute, it is a
fact that they are all in great awe of the
machine. -Mr. Whitney, as is by this time |
an open secret, has long wished to shake
oil Tammany. But Tammany clings to
him like a leech. The Tiger includes in
the same comprehensively affectionate
embraces all the democrats of standing
who consort with Whitney. The invita
tion to these men was but a veiled com
mand. ~
But they in their turn have been able
to exact conditions. Mr. Croker. without
seeming to be so, is largely in their hands.
That is one reason why Tammany has
become so severely respectable. Another
terrifying thing to the Tiger was the
threat of exclusion from the next demo
cratic national convention. That would,
indeed, he a serious blow. But Mr. Whit
ney has agreed to avert it, under certain
conditions. It will thus he seen that this
politician Is practically the central figure
in the situation. He and the Belmonts
are the pictured trinity of every Tamma
ny man’s dreams. They are to reconcile
the party to the organization.
Meanwhile the reformers are regarding
these developments with concern. Mayor
Strong has beeetr arousing antagonism of
late. The Tiger Is. oV the contrary, at
peace with everybody. In tho shadow of
the Presidential election there has come
that sudden calm so potentious upon the
ocean of politics.
New York will probably have Its own
horror unspeakable before many weeks
have gone by. The Roman shamelessness
of plutocracy is conceded to transcend
anything recorded of the Catullan age.
Even women in New York speak to busts
of Oscar Wilde endearingly, and from the
sheer inervgtion of luxury take refuge
from satiety itself in anew sensation.
Degredation has become a cult and vice a
god.
Anthony Comstock, the one man who
has played the part of Cato In this Ro
man cesspool, is the archenemy whom
profligacy has picked out to make a les
son of. He Is dogged and hounded, ridi
culed and threatened. He has even been
approached with offers of mony provided
he would consent to abate his hostilities.
To all these diatribes he has been ada
mant. He is now the object of an open
conspiracy to bring him into disrepute.
In truth, the Sybarites he alms at may
well tremble. Their infamy is equaled
only by their culture. Their disgrace
would be as great as their fortunes. We
hear the weirdest tales of imported or
gies. of midnight madnesses, of deeds
from which the devil would shrink. And
were it not all made so gorgeous by the
circumstantiality of the details, one would
seem to be reading of Tlberious and Be
janus.
The vice rages like a prairie Are through
fortunes and physiques until every' new
invalid who flies from New York leaves
in his wake a slime of slander. The sit
uation grows tense and horribly impossi
ble. The contagion has eaten like an
acid into society.
Mrs Astor—there is only one Mrs. Astor
—will return from Paris, It is announced.
In June. She has been enjoying herself
immensely in Paris, it appears, her ele
gant suite of apartments off the Champs
Klysee being a rendezvous of all sorts and
conditions of people of fashion. When she
gets hack Mrs. Astor will go at once to
lieechwood, her superb place at New
port. There she remains until late in
September, when her new mansion at
Fifth avenue and Sixty-fifth street is to
be completed. Mr. and Mrs. John Jacob
Astor have visited Mrs. Astor in Paris,
and the three, accompanied by the little
hoy. made a picnic to Versailles, carry
ing a lunch basket and sitting about on
the grass with the crowd like poor people
out for a holiday. Mrs. Astor’s Paris resi
dence Is by no means so luxurious without
as within. She is much liked In the
neighborhood In which she lives, and her
fame as a very rich woman in her own
country seems to be thoroughly under
stood. She was greatly annoyed by smoke
from a cottage chimney near her house
when she first entered her new lodgings,
hut as the poor man in It had to use a
tire, Mrs. Astor rented a place for him
elsewhere and paid the man to move.
Her stay in Paris has been most pleas
ant. she writes home.
An enormous sum is being spent weekly
In turf enterprises. A veritable equine
craze seems to have asserted itself among
New York's more fashionable men. A
new man in one sense, Is Mr. Frederick
C.ehhard, whose lurk so far has been sim
ply phenominal. It is not. to be sure, all
luck, since Mr. Gebhard has become quite
an authority on the turf. He and Foxhall
Keene and August Belmont have made a
brilliant success of the steeple chase. A.
.1. I'assatt comes over from Philadelphia
a good deal now and is associated with
these men in various turf undertakings.
Morris Park has heretofore been their
chief scene of operations. Richard Cro
ker is understood to have had a wish *o
connected himself with the men who are
thus casting a glow of fashion over the
race horse, hut he got the mitten. That is
why he has made an expedition to the
English track. His recent success over
there seems, from ail indications, to be
hut the first in a brilliant series of tri
umphs. Still, he feels very sore, It ap
pears, from the snubbing he received
from the men now most prominent as
sjortsrnen in the metropolis, and they are
likely to be reminded some day that the
Tammany man can harbor a resentment.
The betting on horse races, by the wav'
has attained great proportions, and the
women take as much part in it as the men
Restaurants and tables d'hote, are in
many cases little better titan gambling
resorts of the fashionable. This fact is
will understood, and there will probably
tK- a sensational police descent In due
time.
Home very important negotiations are
pending In the domain of billiards. Rob
<-rtH a<J lve* an<l 81o**on are ui to their
eyes in preliminary work heralding a
rich tourney somewhere. Pool ! also to
acquire a now importance, thanks to the
wonderful achievements of lie o rr , This
famed pool player practiced dully In New
, V , ln * R of ht ->"■ upon
whi*b h* ha* maH* om- wonderful run*.
iwl lTf * a choJkoft; on hi*
Iv#*h tin* young wlz;ir<l of th billiard
tabh, i*i holding ht own. Tho bollard
room*, however, hav** *ufr#n<| a JHti*
from ih* ft/tlon of th< n proto Hitting
th‘ ir “Ujoymein on Sunday*, Th* ruuionnJ
organization of th# Uh* iHk*n thi*
matter tip, fhr r-*tj|i }* of thi*
police by 'lie men tn lb.- trade The up.
r lot of the lit l l.’ tow im being wat.-fud
* as' riff nil over the country Toe dealers
la billiard tables ore disgusted at the
S.iuation The game hue not been tptro
duivu mi lot* Atfitrkig u-Jiinß
(Ml#
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isieoi Hope, Montgomery and ah way sioiioiu
CARS RUN AS FOLLOWS (City Time):
For Isle of Hope—Leave Holton street 9:0?
am.; leave Second avenue 10:15. 11:15 a m
12:15,1:15, 2:15, 3;15, 4:15, 5 15, 6:15, 7:15 8 15
p. m
For Montgomery and Bethesda—9 07 a m
from Bolton street aid 10:15 a. m , 1:15 p. m
8:15 p. m. ana 8:15 p. m. from Second avenue
connect with cars at Sandfiy.
Leave Isle of Hope 8:1?. 11:15 a. m.. 12:15
1:15, 2.15,3:15. 4:15. 5:15, : 15. 7:15, 9p. m.
Cars from Thunderbolt to Isle of Hope every
hour after 2:00 p. tn. until 6 p. m.
Leave Montgomery 8:t0,10 a. m., 3 and 8 p
m
Leave Isle of Hope for Thunderbolt at 2:30
and hourly afterwards until 8:30 p. m.
SEED CORN
AND SOJA BEANS.
Mica-Crystal Grit for Poultry. Try this
if you wish to Improve your chickens, etc.
FLY FIEND, the greatest known protec
tion for stock from She torments of flies,
gnats, etc.
HAY, BRAIN, BRAN and FEEDS of all
kinds.
T. J. DAVIS,
Grain Dealer and Seedsman,
•Phone 223. lag Bay Street.
i. k. McCarthy,
46 DRAYTON STREET,
Plortei, steam u Gas fillet.
Steam and Gas Fittings, Chandeliers,
Globes, all kinds of plumbing supplies.
MEN WOMEN ' r ? r v KSsi&.
You can earn big money in painting Crayon
1 ortralts in spare time, day or evening, by my
new patented method. Any one can do the
work. Send your address. I send particulars
free of charge. H. A. GRIPP, German Art
ist, Tyrone, Pa.
as it might be, owing to middle class dread
that It is not "respectable.”
No freaks of any kind will hereafter
be permitted to interview the President
of the United States in an official capae
lty. Air. Cleveland is tired of being used
as an advertising medium by fat women
and giants, and objects of that sort. The
favorite method of freaks is to get a let
ter from Mr. Cleveland by writing a com
munication to him, and at the. same time
keeping him in complete ignorance of the
fact that the writer is a freak Then the
President, as likely as not. will send a
reply, and the recipient of tlie note boasts
of it, and sends it all over the land, as an
indication of his or her renown.
But the President now receives and
writes to no freaks. For that matter, the
genuine freak is becoming rare in the
land. Since the marriage of the great
giant of Georgia to the thousand pound
wonder and their retirement from busi
ness, the ranks have been reduced. Such
as we have in town command a very high
price and are very difficult to deal with.
David Wechsler.
He Wan a Laplander.
"It Is a favorite pastime of mine, when
riding about m the street cars of a great
city, to study the people I meet with, and
Judge of their pecularities and nationali
ties,” said Miss Fosdick, according to
Harper’s Bazar.
"Do you think you can form a correct
opinion about the place of a person s
birth?" asked her companion. Miss Gas
kett.
“Why, T think I can, hut of course I
haven't always the means of verifying my
conclusions. Still, it Is not hard to be
reasonably sure of a good many nationali
ties.”
“Oh, no. It should not be difficult to
pick out an Irishman or a, German, espe
cially after hearing him say a few words,
and an Englishman can generally he de
tected by his looks and bearing, if not al
together by his clothes."
The car stopped and a tall man entered.
"What Is his nationality?” whispered
Miss Gaskett.
"That is a man whose native land It is
rather hard to guess.” replied Miss Fos
dick. “He might be an American. He
might possibly be a Frenchman, who
has been In the United States long enough
to have acquired an American air. or
he might he a Spaniard or Italian with a
long residence in America. There is noth
ing particularly distinguishing about him.
He is tall, with dark hair and brown eyes,
and might belong to either of the nation
alities I have named.”
While this conversation was proceed
ing, the object of the girl's curiosity had
hung to a strap in the true American
fashion, but he failed to notice that the
ca.r was about to make a sharp turn. The
sudden change of direction caused him to
lose his balance, and his feet went from
under him. He lost hold of his strap,
gave a twist or two, and fell plump into
the lap of a comfortably fat middle-aged
woman who was going home from mar
ket, with her well-tilled basket on the
floor of the oar at her feet. While the
unfortunate man was striving to retain
his perpendicular, and apologizing to the
woman with whom he had come with
such sudden contact. Miss Gaskett said:
"You made a mistake in guessing at his
nationality, anyhow. He isn't a French
man or a Spaniard, or an Italian.”
What Is he, then? What have you dis
covered about him?"
"He is a Laplander.”
A PruuiliM-nt Minister Writes!
After ten years of great suffering from
Indigestion, with great nervous prostra
tion. billiousness, disordered kidneys and
constlpaton, 1 have been cured by Dr.
Mozley's Demon Dlljyr and am now a well
man.
liev. C. C. Davis, EM. M. E. Ch. South,
No. > Tatnall street, Atlanta, Ua.
Lemon lint Drops,
Cures all Coughs, Colds, Hoarseness.
Sore Throat, Bronchitis, Hemorrhags and
all throat and lung diseases. Elegant, re
lish!*.
* cents at druggists’. Prepared only bf
Ur, II Mosley, Atlanta, Os.
—A memonal to Francis I'arkmsn ••
to l, *|r< id in bis old garden, bow *
part of Boston's park system.