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Canary-Brseding', For
Pleasure <51 Profit
CONTINUED KROil SECOND PAGE.
time people from other countries came to
Elba for pleasure or business. These trav
elers saw and heard the sweet songsters,
and straightway wanted some to take
home with them. Of course the people of
Elba were glad to sell softie of them, and
this was the beginning of the flight of tlie
canaries, as they now began to be called,
from the.ir native island—all over the
world. Their sweet little voices and chip
per little ways have always captivated
the big bipeds wherever the little birds
are known, and that is almost every
where.
You have noted that T have said “green
birds?’’ Perhaps you think that a slip of
the pen. But no. All canaries were
green at tirst, with only here and there
a tinge of yellow on some of them, and
rather more than a tinge on others.
Green, olive green, was the color of the
birds that adopted Elba as their home,
and it is the color of the wild canaries
of today in their native islands. Not a
solid olive green, but dappled with black
and yellow. As usual, many people were
not satisfied to let well enough alone,They
wanted to improve on nature’s handiwork
and so clamored for more and more
bright yellow in their new found song
ster®. Of course the demand had to he
met. Demands always are if there is
enough profit in them. The dealers in can
ary birds began a careful selection of
their breeders, mating only those with
the most yellow splashes in their uniform.
Continuing this process, selecting in suc-
i ceding generations the birds with the
most yellow, there was finally created
a race of pure sulphur yellow birds.
Tlie green canaries vanished so entirely
from the markets of the world, that lew
people today know that the canary bird
was ever anything elss* than the yellow
color now so intimately associated with
its name. But if these yellow robed cana
ries were sent back to their native for-
. ests. and there turned loose in the home
of their ancestors, their numerous wild
country cousins would not recognize them
as such, for these letters still wear the
old family uniform of dappled olive green.
But in spite of alt the many generations
of yellow canaries, in spite of tile contin
ued care of the bird fanciers to perpetu
ate this artificial color, the original uni
form will occasionally crop out. just as
some odd or forgotten quality will some
times crop out in the human family, com
ing down from some far-away ancestor.
And then a dapple green appears in the
nest among the yellow ones, whose par
ents may have been the yellowest of the
yellow. So you see there are. misfits
among birds, as well as among people,
and this green offspring among the yel
low ones must be a puzzle to the fond
parents of them all. It is rather a curious
fact that these dark birds are almost in
variably better singers than the light
ones. Their plumage shows that they
have gone back part way to the wild
type, and the wild birds are better sing
ers than the domesticated.
Entirely apart from their swecL song,
canaries are worthy" of their position as
household pets. They are cheerful and
sprightly, sociable and easily tamed by
those who love them, a fact they seem
to recognize by some strange instinct.
Their plumage is varied and beautiful.
They are easily kept, and breed freely
in tlie cage, and they are good parents
and kind to each other. Canaries a re
emphatically tlie bird of the peopie and
for the people. The demand for them
is on tlie increase all the time, and,
therefore, it pays to meet that demand
by raising them. In London, England,
nearly every household has its canary,
and nearly all of these birds are raised
in cottage or country homes by women
and children. It pays them well, and it
will pay us, too, to follow thel r exam
ple.
Jt is not only in their color that can
aries vary. By long years of careful se
lection of freaks or sports In color and
form, and by crossing with other birds,
many varieties, some of them mote gro
tesque; than beautiful have been produced.
There are over thirty named and recog
nized varieties, some with raised top-
knots, some with flat ones, some with
feathered legs, some dark, some almost
white. There is one variety known as
the Belgian, fine specimens of which
have been sold for over twfee their
weight in gold. They look as if thej" had
broken backs, their shoulders being
high, and their head and tail point
ing downward from them, their outline
being much like that of an irregular
semi-circle. Then there is the Scotch
canary. This queer looking bird has
the shape of an iron itoop, and be
cause of its odd appearance, it is a
special favorite among bird fanciers.
FREAKS FROM BREEDING.
It looks as if standing on tip-toe,
with Its head and tail bending forward,
as If in the effort to meet each other.
Then thefe i s another variety that looks
as if it had a little toadstool on top
of its head, or a parasol without a han
dle. This is the Manchester coppy.
Again, there is tlie dark or iight yellow
bird, with a pretty, curly top-knot or
crest on its head, and others with a
plain, smooth head.
Still another canary is called tlie liz
ard because the back and wings nre
spotted with dark green, like some liz
ards. Again, we have the canary moles,
one a cross between the canary and the
gold-finch, the canary and the linnet or
the siskin. In these crosses the female
is always the canary, because the other
birds named are not so tamed by years
of captivity and the female refuse to
breed in cages or use the artificial nests.
It is a curious fact that if two crest
ed birds are mated, their young will not
have, as might lie expected, extra large
erests. but will be actually bald. This
is something for amateurs to remember.
Naturally, in the wild state, eanaries
pair, but the domesticated male canarv
is polygamous, often mating with four
or five. But he loves best the one he
was first mated with. The best birds,
however, come from the later matings.
These sweet songsters, to be attuned to
their best capacity, need to be taught how
to sing. This may seem to many a strange
statement, but it is true that every sing
er, bird, as well as human, requires train
ing and example. In Germany and the
Tyrol, Where the breeding of canaries
gives profitable employment to a large
number <j£ people, the young birds are
usually placed n« .r a nightingale, or an
extra fine singer of their own race, so that
they may learn its song. In England the
woodlark Is the usual teacher. We of the
south have as fine a tutor for young cana
ries as could be desired, in our mocking
birds. Encourage the latter to build near
our homes, and then hang the young ca
naries where they can hear the sweet
singer of the southland, and there will be
no trouble as to their learning how to
sing best. One I knew of had
learned to whistle clearly several bars of
••Hail Columbia,’’ and to whistle for the
dog. so that the latter was kept hustling
to and fro in a vain search for the mas
ter whom lie supposed was calling him.
But such accomplishments as these art
thrown Into the shade by a canary that
cin ialk. Those, indeed, are rare, but
there are two cases on record of proved
authenticity, and several others that one
may,be excused for doubting. One of the
l\nven ones was exhibited in London
about forty-five years ago, and the in
formation that follows concerning its won
derful accomplishment was sent to the
vicq president of tlie London Zoological
Society. The parents of this unique bird,
thia rara avis, ihanwd once upon a
time to hatch only one out of four eggs.
It was a n*iserable failure, such as the
old folks Oiad never made before, and
they were so disgusted, at it that they
set to work at once to wipe out memory
of it by building a new nest on top of
the one unlucky little bird that was their
all—that time.
Fortunately the unfledged and forsaken
waif was discovered by Its owner just In
time. It was almost dead, but hemg
wrapped in flannel, placed near the stove
and given every attention, including food,
which its indignant parents had omitted
to give it, it revived. The rescued little
one was brought up by hand, and thus be
came familiarized,only with those persons
who fed it. Consequently, its first singing
notes were of an entirely different char
acter from the usual notes of the canary,
thus proving, if proof were neded, how
dependent the young bird is upon its
teacher for ft. t oeaj qualifications.
A TALKING CANARY.
The little bird, being talked to constant
ly. and never ).earing the natural bird
notes, astonished its mistress, wlira ev»»
three months old, by repeating the endear
ing terms used in talking to it. Instead
m singing, like any other well ^•egubi'Ua
canary, it came hodly out one day with
the clear, distinct words, “Kissie, kissie,’’
followed by the peculiar sound that us
ually accofiifTTfnied the words, as though a
noisy kis.s had been given.
Not satisfied with the sensation it had
made by uttering this one word, the bird
kept on listening and practicing, and then
for hours together, amused itself and its
hearers by ringing all the changes o»
its word-song. “Dear sweet Tltlchie, (its
name), kissie, kissie.’’ “Kiss Minnie."
“Kiss me then, dear Minnie.” “oweet,
jpetty little Titchie, Titichie, wee, wee,
gee, gee. kiss, krssie.’’
A dog whistle w:ts often used about the
house, and its clear, shrill notes were
caught up by Techie, to the dire trouble
of the poor dog. who was kept on tlie
trot answering t io whistle to no purpose.
One of the members of Tltgiiie’s family
was fond of whistling "Pop Goes the Wea-
sel,’’ and it was not long before the lit
tle bird astonished everyone by whistling
several bars of this lively tune. Of course,
brought up ms Titchie was. it became very
fame, and was not more at home in its
cage than mi the ’head, shoulders or fin
ger of its special friends, jt would hop
down from Its perch on to the finger
presented to it for the purpose, and cling
to it, while being swung to and fro, or
cairied around the room, talking
shouting with delight all the while.
ITO BE CONTINUED.)
and
DOES A VACATION PAY?
(Orison Swett Marden, in tlie July Sue-
cess.)
Does it pay to regain your cheerful
personality?
Does it pay to sip power from its very
fountain head?
Does it pay to increase jour creative
power and originality?
Does it pay to get a firmer grip on vour
business or profession?
Does it pay to regnin your lost con
fidence by up-building your health? %
Do you want to get rid of the scars
• mu stains of tlie year's campaign?
Will a fresh vigorous brain serve you
better than a fagged, jaded one?
Does it pay to exchange flaccid, stif
fened muscles for strong, elastic ones?
Does it pay to get a new grip on life
and to double jour power to do good
Work?
Does it pay to put iron.into the blood
and to absorb granite strength from the
everlasting liiils?
Does it pay to renew the buoyancy and
lightheartedness, the spontaneitj- and en
thusiasm of youth?
Does it pay to get in tune with the In
finite by drinking in the medicinal tonic
from the everlasting hills?
Does it pay to get rid of your nagging
rasping disposition so that you can at
tract people Instead of repelling them?
Does it pay to get rid of some of our
narrow prejudices, hatreds, and jeal
ousies that are encouraged by the stren
uous city life?
Does it pay to add to the comfort and
happiness of ourselves and those about
us by being brighter and more cheerful
ourselves?
Does it pay to make the most of all
the powers that God has given you by
bringing superb health and vitality to
your aid in developing them?
Does It pay to develop our powers of
observation; to learn to read “books in
the running brnolcs. sermons In stones,
and good in everything?"
Does it pay to put beauty into the life,
to gather serenity and poise from the
sweet music of the running brooks and
the thousand voices in nature?
Is It better to be a full-rounded man or
woman with large views and.a wide out
look, or a mere automatic machine run
ning lh the same old grooves year after
year?
is it a good investment to exchange a.
few dollars for a great deal of health and
linpplnes^ to economize on that on which
the very well-springs of our being de
pend?
Does it pay to be free, for a. time,
ft am the peWy annoyances that vex,
hinder, and exasperate; to get out of ruts
and the old beaten tracks and take In a
stock of brand-new ideas?
Does It ptty" to get away from the hot
bricks and mortar of the city and
breathe the pure air of the country; to
becrrflnp rejuvenated atnd refreshened by
breathing the untainted and invigorating
air of the country?
Is if better to go to your task with a
hoperul outlook than to drag yourself
to your work like ait unwilling slave;
to go through life halting, weak. Ineffi
cient, pessimistic, or to be strong, vigor
ous. self-reliant and optimistic?
Does it pay to save 5 per cent of your
income by economizing on your vacation
this year and break down next year
ffom the continued strain or be 'obliged
to pay 50 per cent for doctors' bills, be
sides ’the time lost in enforced idle
ness?
Does It psv the- hard-worked, nerve-
racked, desk-bound man to lock his bus
iness cares In Ms office or store and be
free once more: to exchange exhausted
and irritable nerves for sound, healthy
ones which will carry pleasurable sensa
tions instead of rasping ones?
] Masonry Is Tabooed j
? ?
1 By Monarchs f
15he Fate of a Voice
HIDE the secret of tho
>■•■••••••••••«••••••••
Roman Catholic confes
sional is universally re
spected by tlie courts here
in America and in Europe,
no matter what tlie belief
of the judges, •r the re
ligion of the people, a
strong sentiment appears
to be growing UP against
the. grant of any such
concession whore the se
crets of free masonry are
concennqd. in Alabama
and elsewhere in the United States law
suits have recently taken place where
the tribunals have held that masonic
vows of secrecy were powerless to
release the parties and the witnesses in
the case from the legal obligations of
giving evidence, while at Paris a demand
has latelj- been made in the legislature
for the compliance by the grand orient
of France with tlie provisions of the
statutes, which require the communica
tion to the government and also to the
national library of all its laws, rules,
publications, and accounts, no matter
how confidential.
In .France, indeed, the question of re
vealing tlie secrets of the craft lias de
veloped into an important parliamentary
issue, which is not altogether surpris
ing when it Is borne in mind that in
France, as well as in Italy and in sev
eral other countries of continental Eu
rope, free masonry has become a weighty
factor in political life.
It is tills that render® rulers nowadays
so reluctant to be connected with the
order, whereas in former times, when
it held aloof from politics and devoted it-
• self almost exclusively to philanthropy,
there were many crowned heads and
princes of the binod among the brethren.
Only tliree monarchs—namely, Edward
VII. the kaiser, and King Oscar—belong
today to the crqft, and in each instance
they have, since their accession to the
throne, ceased lo he active members,
and have severed their connection with
tlie lodges to which they belonged, find
ing the obligations of sovereignty incom
patible with those of the brotherhood.
Thus during tlie last j'ear of Queen
Victoria's reign the discovery that an
atheistic masonic lodge, known as the
Hiram ledge, had been constituted in
London under a charter from the grand
orient of France, compelled the then
prince of titles, in ills capacity as grand
master of the English rite, to issue a
violently worded decree directed against
French Masons, denouncing them as be
yond the Masonic pale, and prohibiting
P-ritish members of the order from hold
ing any Masonic intorroume with them.
MAY EMBARRASS KING EDWARD.
True, it was in keeping jvith the at
titude assumed by tlie grand lodge of
England in 1877, when tlie grand orient
of France banished, so to speak, the Al
mighty from its lodges, excluding in the
most rigorous fashion from its ceremonies
all acknowledgment of or reference to
the grand architect of tlie universe. But
in view of the role played by Masonry in
the political life of France, where most
of the leading statesmen, from the presi
dent of the republic and the premier
downwards, arc members of tlie craft, it
was, to say the least, awkward, and it
is easy .to see that if circumstances were
to ai tee necessitating the issue of another
such attack upon French Masons by
the English grand lodge tilt connection
of King Edward with the latter would
not merely endow the manifesto witli an
official and international character, but
would iu calculated to impair tlie friendly
relations between tlie two governments.
Tills danger was brought home to the
king within a few weeks after his ac
cession. For among the earliest petitions
which lie received after becoming king
was an appeal signed, not only by a
large number of Turkish free Masons,
but likewise by thousands of other mem
bers of tlie craft, calling upon him to
use Ids influence to secure the freedom
of a. brother Mason, ex-Sultan Murad,
who “for 'tho last quarter of a century
has been imprisoned at Constantinople
on the pretext of a mental malady” by
his younger brother, the present ruler
•of tlie Ottoman empire. It was perhaps
fortunate .that c. few days before this
petition reached its destination Edward
had surrendered the grand mastership
of the order of England to his brother,
tlie duke of Connaught, since otherwise
ills Masonic obligations would have
forced him to rake some steps in behalf
of Murad, which might have clashed
wiih the political interest of his kingdom.
Emperor William, on succeeding to the
throne, with tlie object of avoiding just
such _ quandaries as these, hastened to
sever his connection with the craft, nom
inating his cousin and brother in law.
Prince Frederick Leopold, to the grand
mastership, while King Oscar of Sweden
showed similar prudence. Napoleon III,
however, neglected to take this precau
tion when lie became err«f% >ror of the
French, and it was owing to his Ma
sonic obligations that he gave such pow
erful support to the united Italy party
south of tlie Alps in defiance of French
interests. For it is hardly necessary to
point 'out that It was to tlie advantage
of France that Italy should remain di
vided up into a number of petty sov
ereignties instead of constituting one
united kingdom that would necessarily
•become a menace and a danger to France.
Napoleon was a Mason of the Italian
rite, and he had joined tlie order in his
youth, while living in Italy, and at a
moment when the Italian lodges were
the life and soul of the movement in
favor of the unification of Italy with
Rome as its capital. When he ascended
the throne of France lie found it con
venient to forget his obligations. But
Mazzinl. who was one of tlie principal
dignitaries of file grand orient of Italy,
and other Influential Italian Masons, lost
no time jn reminding him of his solemn
pledges, giving him to understand that
not only the enmity of the craft, but
also punishment in the shape of death
would inevitably overtake him unless h®
lived up to his promises.
Not merely threats but bona fide at
tempts upon his life commenced to fol
low one upon another with startling
rapidity, until, in 1859. he, to the dismay
of all his most sensible counselors and
friends, embarked France in a costly and
wholly unnecessary war with Austria for
the purpose of driving her out of Lom
bardy and of uniting'the latter as well
as the grand duchy of Tuscanf. the duchy
of Parma, and a number of other petty
sovereignties of the peninsula to what
was then known as the, kingdom of Car
dinal. He likewise gave material sup
port to the movement which resulted In
the overthrow of the kingdom of Naples, •
and its absorption by what Is now the
kingdom of Italy.
Napoleon’s Masonic friends demanded
that he should help them to secure pos
session of Rorfie. But he realized that his
subjects could not tolerate his taking
part as sovereign of France in any move
ment that had for its object the .over
throw of the temporal sovereignty of the
pope, and that he would risk revolution
and the loss of his throne if he con
tinued anv longer to yield to the de
mands of his Italian fellow Masons.
It was then that he caused his cousin.
Prince Murat, to become grand master
of the French Free Masons, and pro
claimed iiis intention of protecting the
craft in France in order to thoroughly
make it clear, both in his own dominions
and in Italj-, that he had ceased to be a
Mason or to be bound by his obligations?
as such, although he would remain a
friend of the craft.
And in order to give a token of his good
will to the latter he issued a decree bear
ing date of 1862 legally recognizing and
authorizing the existence of tlie order of
Free Masons in France. It is an irony of
fate that this same fraternity should
have become one of the chief factors in
bringing about his downfall and have
constituted one of the chief obstacles to
anj" monarchical restoration in France.
To what extent the Masons on the con
tinent of Europe interfere in politics may
•be gathered from the fact that after the
collapse of the Boulanger bubble those
of bis adherents who belonged to the or
der were subjected to severe disciplinary
measures by their lodges, not because
they lhad taken part in a political move
ment, but because they had happened to
be on the losing side. In order to ap
preciate this let any American Mason
consider how he would feel if called to ac
count and punished by his lodge for hav
ing voted with the foes of the political
party to which the majority of the mem
bers of his lodge belonged.
In Italy, after Crisp”? first visit to.the
late Prince Bismarck at Friedrichsruhe.
ho invoked the support of the grand
orient at Rom P for the triple alliance,
which was unpopular among the peopie.
As a reward, for his services in the mat
ter, the late Signor Lemni, the grand
master of the craft, was granted by the
cabinet of the dav the monopoly of pur
chasing the foreign tobacco needed by
the Italian government, the sale of tobac
co in King Victor Emmanuel’s dominions
being a. state monopoly. This enabled
Lemni anti his Masonic confreyes to real
ize enormous fortunes within the space
of a few years.
IN POLITICS SINCE 1830.
It was in the third and fourth decades
of the nineteenth century that the Ma
sons of Italy. Austria. France. Spain and
Prrtugal first'commenced to devote their
attention to politics. This was due to
the severity of the various monarchical
governments in dealing with persons pro
fessing liberalism anil radicalism. The
men found that it was only behind the
closed doors of Masonic lodges, duly tiled,
that" they could make their voices heard
and give free expression to their political
opinions without pent to imprisonment
arid even worse.
But while this association between poli
ties and Masonry has served the per
sonal muls and ambitions of many of the
statesmen who wore members of the
etaft, it cannot be said to have furthered
tlie ?••*! interests and aims of the fra-
ternitj", which has for its object univer
sal brotherhood, and 1 recall the bitter
resentment excited in France by two
speeches of Adriano Lemni, the grand
master of the orient of Italy, delivered
at. Naples and at Rome, in which he pro
claimed his ardent, hope of seeing ere
long the flag of his country floating over
Corsica.
Jt was different during the eighteenth
find tlie earlj- portion of the nineteenth
centuries. Thus we find King Louis XVI,
who met with his death on the scaffold,
and his two j’ounger brothers, who reign
ed over France as Lmiis XVIII and
Charles X, respectively, figuring as Ma
sons and belonging to a lodge known as
tlie Three Brothers. King-Charles’ son,
the due de Berri, was likewise a promi
nent Mason. So. too, was King Louis
Fhiitppe, and also his eldest son. tho
duke of Orleans, father of the late count
of Parts.
•Vehig Frederick the Great was Initiated
while still heir apparent at Brunswick in
1738. and subsequently founded a lodge
of his own at his chateau of Rheins-
bt-rg. His connection with :the order re
mained close and intimate throughout his
reign, among the proofs thereof being a
ratable letter addressed by him the year
before his death to the lodge in Berlin,
knowli as the Royal York of Friendship.
Both of Frederick the Great's successors
Were grand masters of the grand orient
of Prussia, an office which the late Em
peror Frederick was the last Prussian
monarch to hold, and it is extremely
doubtful. if in view of the political role
cf Masonry on the continent of Europe,
there will ever be again sovereigns acting
as grand masters of the craft.
longing for utterance,
determination gleamed in his eyes as lie
looked at the people laughing and chat
ting about him. With an air of dogged
endurance he laid his hat at his feet
and standing with bowed head and bent
shoulders commenced to sing in a low,
quavering voice a popular song of the
day.
A few bystanders looked and listened
with indifferent interest. As the jtong
ended some children approached the old
man and east their pennies into his hat.
A moment he waited; then, pocketing
the money, began another song—a north
country ballad of the sea. As he sang
—his notes louder, clearer than at first—
something of the free, rollicking sailor
life crept into the melody. Involuntar-
il>" some of his hearers kept time with
his singing, and nodded to each other a
mild approval. Passersby stopped to
listen, and as the song ended the group
around the fountain had trebled itself.
Scarcely waiting for the echoes of the
ballad to die away, the old man, with
voice resonant and tender, started
afresh:
-"Drink to me only with thine eyes
And I will pledge with mine;
Or, leave a kiss within the cup
And I’ll not ask for wine.”
As each verse of the old love song
floated out in the clear, starlit night,
{f wave of feeling geemed to pass from
the singer to the wondering people about
him. Hi s bent form and white hair
vanished. Decrepitude was lost in the
glory of youth. It was as if they were
listening to an ardent lover pouring out
iiis heart in all the rapture of its first
idolatrj-.
A shower of money was scattered at
the old man’s feet and a confusion of
voices Trom tlie throng before him
shouted “Bravo! Bravo!’’
Still he went on, with flushed cheek
and flashing -eyes, caroling gaily this
time the quaint French ballad;
“MAlbrouck s'on va t’en guerre."
I he spirit of the simple song was irre
sistible and as the sorrowful cadences
of the last verse s'tolp away down the
silent streets there was a movement of
bonder and pity, and then an imperative
demand for the old singer to go on.
A group of fashionably dressed ladies
and gentlemen stood listening on the
outskirts of the fhrong.
“Here is another marvelous voice.”
said one. “Your protege should be here,
my dear Mrs. Oakley."
“Is it not remarkable! Such an old
man, and witli such power and feeling.
What a history he must have!”
‘The usual one. probably,” said the old
er lady superciliously, "a drop of genius
to a gallon of dissipatiori. The result is
always the same.”
“The voice is so sympathetic. At times
it reminds me of Bertram Ganse. Have
you not been struck with the resemblance,
Myra ?’’
The young lady addressed was silent,
absorbed In the scene before her.*
Again the old minstrel lifted up his
head to sing. The dense crowd around
him, overflowing now into all the paths
of the square and even Into some of the
streets beyond, swayed together in eager
expectation. For a moment he scanned
them with a look of triumph. His lips
trembled. The joy of .the artist exulted
in his veins. Then the clear tenor notes,
quivering now with a. subtle despairing
quality, rang solemnly above them,
"A1 claror del triste iuna.
Faro del pesar,
El rigor de mi fortuna
Qitiero lamentar.”
The passion of music, blending with
the magic of the resplendent nignt, cre
ated in allisuion that none could with
stand. It seemed as though the warmth
of southern skies, thrilled with the haunt
ing romance of some dreaming trouba
dour, enveloped him.
On, on he went, his face illumined with
an inward emotion, his voice increasing
in volume and intensitj’ with the dramatic
CONTINUED FROM FIRST TAGE.
Then a sudden pathos of his song, and ending wnh a
Joj’ous burst of swelling melody:
“Mas te miro en la ventana!
Ya piedad logre!
Tu. que fulste aver tyrana,
Premias hoy ml fe!”
As the last notes of the
died on the night air there^ was
den movement in the Cio*
Serenade”
sud-
A police
man was forcing his way forward by amt
of strenuous clubbing ^d vociferat on
to where the old man st°°d^ Keacbing
the latter he seized him roughly J
“I’ve had my eye on you! lie shouted
harshly. “You’re a nice one you a.e.
masquerading here and ™ a | Un * a ‘ e
turbance. Just drop that hair and come
along with me." -„•<,
A'S he spoke ho grapsed the old man ^
beard and tore it off. Then with
other hand he removed his gray
“Bertram Ganse!" exclaimed a ipung
woman far back in the iCiow . . =•
gar! An impostor!" . .
“Come. Myra, let us go. It is sho king.
The man is a stranger to us!"
Heedless of the officer at his side and
of the jeering, jostling people around nun.
Bertram watched the retreating female
figures with blanched face and scornful
P ‘As he Was being led away a tall, gaunt
man stepped forward and motioned to
the policeman.
“Here, periice,” he drawled ou L ,
reckon I kin have somefnin’ ter say about
this. I’ve been lookin’ fer that young
man hereabout fer th’ last week. H
give me the slip somehow. But he’s
K., I reckon. Jest a bit flighty, mats
all. Anvhow, I’m powerful ter find
him. even If he Is in your hands. He s
my son. an" me an’ th’ hull family s eeme
up ter look fer him an’ ter take a spe
o’ sightseein’ about your town. Ye see >
we’ve jest struck oil on th’ ole farm
down Texas way, an’ they's millions in
it, you bet!’ 4
‘'Bertram!" 4 whispered a soft voice at
his side, and he felt the pressure of a
hand slipped into his.
“Lucy! It is j-ou at last!”
TWAIN AS A RESCUER.
At a London dinner party recently W.
D. Howells, the novelist, praised Mark
Twain hlghlj". He said:
I like to praise Twain. I praise him
often. He is a great humorist.
Once when he was a pilot on the Mis
sissippi, Twain sat with a crowd of men
around a wood stove in a *• ilhf'ge. Pres
ence of mind was being discussed, and
nearly everybody had a storj" about pres
ence mind to relate. Twain said:
“Bojs, through my presence of mind
I once saved an old man's life. It hap
pened this way: I was reading in my
room late at night when I heard fire
bells. I strolled out to see where the
fire was, and soon I came to a brick
house that was burning hard.
"An old man leaned half way out of a
fourth-storj’ window, and the red flames
lit up his long w-hite hair and beard.
’Help! Help!' he hollered. 'Help! Help!’
And he waved his arms around his head,
making wild gestures.
"Everybody in the crowd below seemed
paralyzed. No ladder was long enough
to reach the old man. The firemen said
if he stayed up there he would be burnt
to death, and if lie jumped he would be
crushed flat.
“But I, with my presence of mind,
came to his rescue. I rushed forward
and j-elled for a rope. The rope was
brought to me. I threw the old man.
the end. He caught 4t. I told him to
tie It around his waist. He did so, and
I pulled him down.”
PICNIC HORROR.
(From The Chicago Tribune.)
“Oh. I’m so tired!" panted the girl in
the pink shirtwaist, flopping down on the
grass. “And I’ve lost all my handker
chiefs."
“Will a handkerchief rest you?" asked
the young man with the tennis shoes, ex
tending his own.
“No. but a nap. kin," she said. qtt>sing
her eyes sleqpily.
At which the ants attacked the lunch
basket even more savagely than before.
Calling' of Captain Ramirez
rejoiced at the manner of his death, al
though none could understand who call
ed him ashore or why he obeyed. Those
who whispered the theory of the finish
of his contract with Jemmy Squarefoot
chuckled at their prescience, as fully
justified by the sequel, declaring that the
big Kanaka whom I had seen was none
other than Satan himself come for his
bargain.
“Matters went on now in quite a differ-
CONTINUED FROM FIRST PAGE.
ent fashion. The relief was so great that
we hardly knew ourselves for the same
men, and it affected all hands alike, fore
and aft. The secret of the breaking line
was discovered when Mr. Peck, the mate,
took the skipper's berth over. In a locker
henealh the hunk, he found the pieces of
a big bottle, what they call a ‘carboy,’
X think, and in hunting tip the why of
this a leakage through the deck was
found into the store room where the
cordage was kept. Only two other coils
were affected by the stuff that had run
down and of course they were useless,
but the rest of the stock was all right.
Now. I don’t know what it is nor how it
came there, nor any more about it. and if
you ain't tired of listening. I'm mighty
tired of talking. Pass that ‘switchel'*
this way.”
*A drink of molasses, vinegar and
water.
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