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10 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# FOR INTERNAL AND EXTERNAL USE. t’TRES AWD PREVENTS Cold*, Cough*. Sore Throat, Inflapnm. llronchitU, Pneumonia. Swelling of the Joint*. Lumbago, Inflammation, Rheumatism, Neuralgia FHOSTBITES. CHILBLAINS. HEADACHE TOOTHACHE. 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Fifty cents per bottle hold by Druggists RADW AY & CO., New York. cm in Mtin Mor cnpii SUNDAY SCHEDULE. 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.