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EDITORIAL PAGE
THE SUNNY SOUTH
MAY 5, 19 Off-
I
I
67>e SUNNY SOUTH
Published. Weekly by
Sunny South Publifhing Co
Busine/s Office
THE CONSTITUTION BUILDING
ATLANTA, GEORGIA
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ing its most promising period In the past.
The Never*Finished Scrap
Book
ISPARAGING remarks are easy of
If; manufacture and glib of utterance.
] j Weak 'human nature ever has a
sharper eye for the shortcomings
than the virtues of its neighbors,
and this rule knows few exceptions,
even in the realm of trivial things
For instance, an esteemed contem
porary occupies itself with various
derogatory comments anent the
scrap-book that “mother” never
completes. It pictures her as gath
ering together clippings of cooking
recipes, poems, how to treat burns,
ways for increasing morality among
the young, the best way to eliminate ink spots, and
many other subjects, too numerous for detailed
mention. The editor proceeds to assert that it
is a favorite custom of the lady of the house, after
accumulating these multitudinous extracts, to let
them lie fallow in many a forgotten drawer and
crevice, abiding the day when she shall have time
to paste them into a scrapbook and give to their
many-faced variance somewhat of a coherence.
Sad enough, a few of these indictments are true.
We have known women, as well as men, to devote
much time and thought to the saving of clippings
bearing on pertinent and foolish topics, hoard
them assiduously and, in despair, end by consign
ing them to the flames or the wastebasket. Many
people are positive cranks on this subject. They
will sit down to peruse a newspaper, scissors in
hand, and interrupt the placid flow of thought or
conversation of persons otherwise engaged, by a
maddening “snip-snip” as the shears lop off some
terse item. Or they will work the same havoc bv
them into an album, or lets them go to seed by I i
scattering them in out of the way places, the intel-. j
lectual effort has been a distinct aid, and the stim-;;
ulant to the will should not be entirely ignored.
More often than we think, too, these scrap
books ARE completed. Their collectors may be
methodless and slapdash in their habits, but some
day they run across a gathering of these hetero
geneous clippings, mucilage or paste are drawn
forth and lo! at the end of an evening’s steady
work the finished product stands forth, as a wit
ness to the energy and the initiative of the second
hand author.
The scrapbook habit, is moreover, a helpful
one. It develops the powers of observation and
concentration and patience. Once it is formed, it
is likely to be incurable, and it provides the indi
vidual with occupation a great deal more healthy
than some pursuits calling for a much greater and
more continuous expenditure of vital energy.
odered bed chamber, and watch with him as the
inquiring, at an inopportune moment, whether we clock tolls off the monotonous hours of darkness.
think such and such a clipping would be of interest
to some four hundred and fifty-first cousin—if so,
it is dislocated from its newspaper tomb, and sent
hurtling through the mails on its precarious mis
sion.
Yet, though these scrapbooks be never completed.
When Dreams Come True
LITTLE boy whose dirty, round face
is swept lovingly by bobbing curls,
sits in front of the door and makes
castles out of mud and sticks, stub
by horses out of black-blue beans
and matches, and grave, impossible
soldiers from a combination of ail
three. Now and then he sways
back on outstretched palms, seri
ously contemplates his work, makes
a change here, an addition there,
and—dreams. He grows older and
the cruel-kind rules of civilization
put a school book in his hand, and
escorts him to a desk where he
must spend the better part of the day. He studies?
Yes, of course. But when the spring comes on,
the foliage outside begins to flaunt its leafy inso
lence in the face of tired humanity, and you can
almost hear the bubble of the brook at the foot of
the hill—who can blame him, if his face turns
wistfully aside from the task, the sweet, quiet eyes
of childhood grow pensive and vacant, and—lie
still dreams? Older yet he grows. The high
school or the college campus now know a sturdy
football player and the cocksure air of the youth
not quite a man. Follow him into a still corner
of the quadrangle, or peer into the eyes bent on a
book in the school room, and you will see in them
—dreams. Most likely about a woman, this time,
poor chap, or rich chap, we should say. For the
errant dreaming of youth at the high tide of ro
mance is a dearer, closer thing than any other
nature or art may offer at later and more open-
eyed times of life.
Be patient, and track him again into the office
or the counting room. Perhaps you think his
mind absorbed on learning a profession, his taste
for money and power whetted to the keen edge of
sacrifice and selfishness. Gould you glance back
of those still, clear eyes, you would find the specter
of dreams yet active in his brain. Could you go
with him to the seclusion of his wonderfully dis-
Along the Highway
Bp FB/f** hi STPHftBfT
you would know that the vision and the wish, ever
clinging, never distant, are still flavoring his life
with bergamot or distilling into it a slow disquiet
ing poison.
These happy, darling dreams of youth! Chil
dren they are, generally, of longing and of ambi-
are they not a very real pleasure and diversion toition. Gloriously they light up the barren spaces
their haphazard compilers? Fads are healthy things, |of life, and we will not let them flicker as long as
when they are innocent in pursuit and reasonable imagination or hope can feed them on the food
in complexion. They engage the mind in a recre
ation which is inexpensive, while it may and doubt
less does, lead to development in many instances.
For example, a man may be collecting data con
cerning the science of birds or of flowers. He is
on the constant look out for scraps of information
bearing on this topic, and as he reads them they
leave a more or less permanent impress on his
mind.
A woman may have the mania for collecting
sentimental or melancholy poetry—and a good
deal of it, good, bad and impossible, goes the
rounds of the national press. Evening after even
ing she sits by the living-room lamp, and after
carefully reading verses which appeal to her
peculiar bent, finishes the day with a mind more
or less saturated with golden ideas and helpful
suggestions—for the better part of poetry cannot
help but be tiplifting. Whether or not he or she
gives these selections a prolonged life by pasting
vital to their existence. Little feeble things, born
of such impalpable stuff! Some of them so meshed
in gauze and gossamer, that the piercing shaft of
practical logic shatters them into nothingness.
Too frail to live in the rough, brutal air of the
world as it exists, not as we wish it would exist.
And even as we cherish them, we know they are
absurd: we know that those things we desire with
a painful ecstacy are out of our reach. Like chil
dren sobbing for the moon, we sooner or later
come to be content with bouncing balls or tinsel
toys. Oh, the horrible sarcasm of the thing!
And yet, suppose that dreams did come true.
We mean, worthy dreams, stripped of the smut of
the impure imagination or the folly of the unthink
ing. Could we desire a dearer heaven ? People
the universe with the realized dreams of fresh
youth, and the diamond must find a brighter radi
ance. the rose a finer fragrance, the lotus a sweeter
and more languorous indolence.
A Wonder That Worked.
(From The Tatler.)
A gentleman went Into an inn in
Chelmsford upon a very cold day and
could get no room near the fire, where
upon he called to the ostler to fetch a
dozen oysters and give them to his horse.
“Will your horse eat oysters?’’ said the
ostler. "Try him,” said the gentleman.
Immediately, the people running to see
this wonder, 'the fireside was cleared and
the gentleman had his choice of seats.
The ostler brought back the oystiens-
and said the horse would not touch them.
“Why, then,’’ said the gentleman, “I
shall be forced to eat them myself.”
Italian Trains.
(From Modern Society.)
“The only bad thing about Italy is its
train service," said a man who had been
praising Italy. “I shall never forget a
winter experience of mine on the railroad
that runs along the .Mediterranean from
Ventimille to Genoa. I got on this train'j
at Ven'timille one morning, bound for San
Remo. Off we started, snow-covered
mountains to our left, orange groves and
rose farms about us, the nlue sea on our
right, and after some minutes we stop
ped.
" ’Is this Bordighera?’ I said to the
guard.
" 'No; it’s a cow!’ he answered. ’There's
a cow on the line!'
“Well, after a while the cow was driven
off, and we got under way again. Some
few miles were traversed in a leisurely
way. and theri^-we stopped again.
“ ’Another cow?’ I said to the guard,
bitterly.
“ ‘No,’ he replied. ‘The same one!”
Pat’s Advice.
From The Tatler.)
A few days a-»<> Mr. O'Brien, a land
agent in the west of Ireland, met a ten
ant. and having heard of his .marriage,
saluted him with, “Well, Pat, so you
have taken to yourself a wife?” "Yis,
yer honor,” said Pat, touching his hat, "I
have.”
Mr. O'Brien, looking comically at him,
said, “Well, here am I; I can get no one
to take me, and 1 feel very lonely some
times.” Pat. looking confidentially, said,
"I think I can put yer honor in the way.”
“How, Pat?” "Do as I did. Go where you
are not known.”
His Ancestry.
(From The Argonaut.)
When the Honorable artillery com
pany of London were being entertained
by a club at the Revere house when they
were in Boston, the commander of the
Fall River, naval reserves was tracing
with great earnestness his ancestry and
descent fcptn a well-known family in
England.
A captain of the English company, who
had been enjoying ever since he landed
the hospitality of the Bostonians, gravely
remarked, with a decided drawl, that his
father was bom in the Highlands and
his mother just across the border, so he
was half Scotch ind thy other half— But
before he could say the remainder an
official standing by “butted in” with
“3oda!"
Why She Wanted It.
(From Modern Society.)
At a certain hotel in the northwest a
lady came down frhm upstairs and asked
the manager if she could get a glass of
water.
“Why, certainly, madam,” said he. fill
ing up a Siass for her.
Two minutes later she was back in the
office again.
“I don’t like to trouble you,” she said,
“but could I get another glass o/
water?”
"No trouble at all, madam,” said the |
manager, banding her another glass.
Two minutes later she appeared again.
"Certainly, madam,” said the affable
manager: “but may I inquire what you
liUVli u lavj
I.
Love is walking in the way
Where the honeysuckles stay,—
Love is with his sweetheart, and is
having holiday!
II.
Love it is that knows
The secret of the rose.
An’ what is in the Wind’s soul when
a-singing soft he goes!
III.
No threat’ning thorn shall rise
To daunt his fearless eyes;
The daisy waits his coming, and for
him the violet sighs.
IV.
Oh, hearts, in shadows gray!
Meet Love along the way;
For Love is with his sweetheart, and
is having holiday!
“AFTER LIFE’S FITFUL FEVER."
The other day in England, they
buried an English poet in a pauper’s
grave. He must have been a true
genius; for he had a record of iiv-
ing in garrets, and when garrets
failed him he slept in odd corners, and
in haystacks, with only the stars to
light him to rest. And now they have
discovered that he wrote fine poetry;
an*d probably they’ll take up a col
lection for a monument to his mem-
6ry. It is the old story over again
Was it not Oliver Goldsmith wlnr
wrote, of Poetry: —
“Thou source of all my joy,
And all my woe;
Thou found’st me poor at first,
And keep’st me so!”
WORDS THAT ARE PICTURES
For a fine choice of words that
breathe and burn, commend us to
Amelie Rives, who every little while
writes a story-poem for Harper's. Lis
ten:
“He was a great, sapful man, with
a luscious voice that seemed to gush
from him like juice from a ripe fruit,
and he would be aye sending it forth
in jets of ribald song and japes
'gainst God and Holy Church that
would have blistered an unseasoned
daemon and ta’en the skin from his
inexpert tongue. * * * such maid
en’s dimples In his great, wine-
marbled jowl, and tucking tight the
; t „ „ o'
life as beat upon you from the whole
man!”
THE HAPPY WORLD.
I.
You may hear bells ringin’
All the stormy world along;
If you can’t be singin’
You may listen to a song!
II.
When the black storm’s breathin’
Of the gloom an’ blight
You may see Love wreathin’
Of a rainbow bright!
III.
Then leave the sorrow
For the storm to drown;
There’s a bright Tomorrow
Where the light shines down!
Another literary bureau wants
“Taking Titles for Novels,” and ad
vertises to pay liberally for them.
What they ought to advertise for is a
remedy to fortify the reader “before
taking.”
LITERARY BILL OF FARE
“Yes,” said the poet, “I had a love
song for breakfast, and a sonnet for
supper.”
“But—how about dinner?”
“Oh,—I had a regular spread. I
dined on seven declined manu
scripts!”
A NOTE OF THANKFULNESS
Blow the silver trumpets
That summon all the years!
And thank the Lord for laughter,
And thank the Lord for tears!
LOVE AT SEA.
I.
Love hath fared to sea today—
Foamy is his track;
Rise against him, billows!
Beat the rover back!
II.
Whither would he wander,
From my side to roam,
When the lamps were all alight,
And my heart his home?
III.
But. Love hath fared to sea today^
And all the sky is black;
Rise against him, billows!
Beat the rover back!
The Ways (£L The Wiles of Some
Familiar Snakes
&
By HELEN HARCOURT.
Written for The SUNNY SOUTH.
>a Busy World
HE royalist and im
perialist pretenders
the French' throne,
whose followers are
alleged to be impli
cated in plots against
the government, re
sulting recently >q
domiciliary visits in
Paris and a search
t' o i incriminating
locuments. are p.r a-
ble men in their way.
Prince Lcnuis Phil.
Prince Napolean. jp pe Robert, duke of
Orleans, is the Bourbon-Orleanist pre
tender. He is the eldest son of the late
Count of Paris, and was born in 1869. In
1890 he entered Paris, notwithstanding
the exclusion ’ act of 1886, and claimed
his right as a Frenchman to undertake
military service, but was arrested. He
was released after a short time, howev
er. and then went to Brussels as bein-
nearer France. In 1905 he led a north
polar exploring expedition. His wife is
the Duchess Maria Dorothea of Austria,
and one of his sisters is the wife of Due
d'Aosta, and another sister is married to
the Duke of Guise. By’ the death of the
Court of Chambord In 1833 the elder
Bourbon line became extinct, and the
right of succession merged in the Count
of Paris, grandson of King Louis Phil
ippe, representing the younger or Or-
j leans line. Prince Victor Napoleon <pf
the house of Jerome) la a son of the
late Prince Napoleon and the Princess
Clothilde, sister of the late King Hum
bert of Italy. Ho wam born July ig,
1862. After the death in South Af.s
in 1879, of the so-called prince imperial
(son of Napoleon III, and Eugen.ej V ic
tor was put forward as a rival of his
father on imperial claims, being support
ed by Paul da Cassagnac and others. He
lives in Brussels, Is morganatiea'Iy mar
ried and has three children. Victor's
younger brother, Prince Louis Nap u on,
is preferred by a certain faction of the
Bonapartists. He was born in 1864, i3
a general in the Russian army, am] rle-
sires to wed a daughter of the king of
the Belgians, but the latter opposes the
match, fearing resentment by th< Fr<
government. Prince Louis is a manly
fellow, a thorough soldier and for a time
last year was military governor of tha
Russian province of Erivan.
CCOMPANIED by
an escort of United
States cavalry, P.ev.
Thomas Sherman of
the Society of Jesus,
St. Louis, has sta-t-
ed for Chattanooga,
Tenn . and this week
he will traverse the
route taken by the
federal army under
! .is father. General
.Villiam T. Sherman,
:.n its famous march
“from Atlanta to the
Thos. Sherman, sea.” Father Sher
man will then go to San Francisco, Cal.,
where he will officiate in two weeks at
I rattler, is the ony really death-dealing i the wedding of his cousin. Viliam E *
ing, to Miss Phelan, daughter of ex-May-
or Phelan, of San Francisco, who
president of the Hibernian bank of that
city. Keen resentment of Father Sher
man's action has risen in both Con: i-
erate and Grand Army of the Republic
ranks. It has been branded as unnecs s-
are doing with so much water? . , .
, ^ . . , ... i opened her mouth wide, an everyone on
'I know you 11 just scream when I tell . . ; , ... ’, ., „ .
serpent we have. Of this, the best known
and most dreaded of all our American
| snakes there is so much to tell that it
NCE upon a time the writar j must be reserved f 0r a future time,
had a little snake talk with j The little “ground rattler.' ’as he is
a country boy who “knew } called in the south, is the Liliputlan of
all about snakes,” or i the rattlesnake family. His hite is very
thought he did. which satis. 1 painful, but not fatal, though some sary, in that it recalled bitter ar.i i.
isfied him just as well, and j amon S the more ignorant claim that his • turbing memories
this is what he had to say bit8 ls even more venomous than that of i
' the diamond-backed, but facts do not I
bear out this assertion. The ground vat- j
tier is a pugnacious little fellow, and wili
bite if he gets a chance, which is proba- |
blv the cause of his uncanny reputation, j
and is not so infrequent as it might be. |
for be is often plowed up by the farmer,
and never fails to resent being disturbed
The 'water moccasin (ancistrodin pls'M-
vorus) is a pugnacious fellow-, and will
attack both man and beast without the
least provocation, and with savage feroc
ity. He is found from the Pedee river
to the gulf states. In Texas there Is a
stecies known as the Texas moccasin j
It might as well be called *he
Florida moccasin. for its greatest I . . . , . .
stronghold is really the immense swamp and ,las drawn the plans for many ;
region of South Florida. They are true 'Structures in this city and elsewhere, in-
water snakes, living chiefly on small, eluding the Rand-McNally building. Mar-
: shall Field & Co’s retail store, the Frst
(Nation:* V'nk, the Bookery, the Temple
on the subject.
“What do I know about
snakes? I know I kill
everyone of ’em I come
across. Why? ’Cause
they.re liable to kill vou
with their forked tongues,
and they’re all more or less pize.n things.
You can't kill a snake all to onct. No
use a tryin’. A snake never dies afore
sunset, no matter how much he’s kilt.
An’ If he can git to look a critter right
said the ! in tbe eye. be kin put a s P e11 on ’ em
so they oan’t git away till he gobbles
’em up.
“I know a boy what come across a
snake oncet. with a lot of yoking ones.
When she see him she just whistled, and
Leaves from an Old Scrap BooK
By A GEORGIA COLONEL.
T HE following appeared in The Mo
bile Register in 1863:
"The yankees are writing their
love for the negro in blood and tear»
They have been convulsing this country
for thirty years by tlndr assumed advoca
cy of his rights and interest in tils wel
fare; now that they have seduced and
rested the poor slave from his southern
master and the. comforts of his southern
home, and have him completely in their
power to do as they will, their vile hypoc
risy and atrocious meanness being to ex
hibit themselves in aspects that are shock
ing to the Christian heart. What a fear-
full reckoning awaits these cruel perse
cutors at that bar before which confed
erate bullets are hastening them with such
raipidity!
scious of theiir situation. Holes were dug
on the river’s bank and the dead buried.
The searching out and removal of these
negroes consumed about iifteen or twen
ty days. About three hundred were
thus removed to the low grounds oppo
site Vicksburg, and there left in the
weeds without any shelter, under the
care of a man who was appointed to or
ganize them Into a camp, anil separate
smallpox cases Prom the rest—in general,
to do what he. could for their relief. Ho
was soon taken sick, and a certain Cap
tain was appointed to take charge
of all t'he contrabands in and around
Vicksburg. The captain was soon pros
trated by disease, but was at his work
again when 1 left Vicksburg, August 21.
Captain appointed a chaplain to take
may be able to do more for these suf
fering, ignor.lnt beings than is in my
power to devise, and that God may bless
your efforts.”
RETURN OF LEE’S ARMY.
I find the following telegram in the old
war scrapbook:
“Richmond. July 17, 1861.—The return
of Lee's army to this side of the Potomac
was accomplished without serious moles
tation. The artillery, camp equipage, etc.,
were brought over safely. The rear guard
was attacked by the enemy’s cavalry,
during which General Pettlgrev was bad
ly wounded. The wounded were at
Winchester yesterday.
“It is reported that the yankees were
crossing the Potomac at Shepherdstown,
whether in large or small numbers is not
charge of those who had been removed . , .
from the city, in place of the man who known ’ i f 8upposed tbat } helr object
was first appointed. is to wa tch the movements of our army.
ippointed.
"He entered upon his labors, but was
There appears to bave been no exaggt- soon prostrated with disease, and was
ration in the accounts already given in conveyed across the river in a skiff.
‘Cannonading was hoard at Winehester
in that direction yesterday.
The Examinc-r says the abandonment
regard to the condition of the negroes at whence he made his wav to a house nfli of the invasion gives some relief to the
the various contraband camps in the Mis- joining that of the United States Chris- ’ r *’~
sissippl valley. Congregated at these do. Uan commission. Here he was found
pots, witho-ut employment, deprived of aione and verv sick. He was invited to
the food to which they have been accua- our house, where he was still remaining
tom*d, and often without shelter or medi-| when I left the cltv. The chaplain told
Cal r#* thf*sh 'ha.nlPKH f>rpn.l ur#»c rif*ri«n *r,..a. *i , . ..
Butler,
Christian
W. G. Eliot as follows respecting the ne- , then that f rom six'tea* to twenty die
groes who came into tAcksliurg after the - dally. Sometimes they would crawl off
■■ lntf> the w-eeds and die, where their
“««■« «. »rs. of August iho -W'S Si
e man with them
majority of our people. The Potomac is
no longer between our army and its base
of supplies.
i “The Dispatch makes the following
still remaining | remark-
. I'haniafn .torn 'Singular remark.
The sentiment considers the move-
matter of general gratification,
of the swollen condition of the
had died since he had taken charge" of 1 *' otornac and the constant rains which
but a nephew of his; that rations were
furnished them by the government, bu>
sometimes he had difficulty in getting
them ovpr the river; that once they were
five days without receiving any food.
eurrender of General Pemberton, mostly
from beyond Jackson;
“About the first of I
authorities l»ecame alarmed lest a pesti- | fj. hat ti lor o was no w 1
lence should break out among them and ■ . - .
extend to the army. Peremptory orders
were issued to at once remove across the
rlv*T all negroes, of every age' and sex,
whether sick or well, who were not In
sowre employment.
“One morning I went out to inform a
certain Lieutenant \V—, who, with an
inadequate force, was executing the or
der. that one of them in the Baptist
church was dead, and that another, a
woman ,was lying behind a fence, dying.
He told me that he lhad detailed, tv>r
the purpose of removing the negroes,
twenty army wagons; 'that he hauled
then . well, sick and dead, with all their
traps to the river, where lie had a
steamer convey them across to a point
opposite the lower part of the city; that
he •!ad one wagon to haul the dead, and
that some days he found as many as
twenty; that in one house he found six
suspend military operations.’
“The Whig say?': ‘Politically, the move
is a good one. as it takes from Lincoln
all excuse for conscription. In a mili
tary point of view it is doubtless no
less goo3, since General Lee made it.’
“These comments convey the sentiment
of the community dn regard to the move
ments.”
GENERAL ROSECRANS.
The following was an editorial in The
dead bodies, with living ones sitting and _
lying around them, apparently uncoa-' but one siri ecepe of misery, i hope you
and tlie negroes in 'their despair threaten- j The following Wa:
ed to kill him, thinking the fault was' Chattanooga Rebel:
his. He also stated that they had no “We have never seen, even among yan-
tents or shelter except brush to shield kees. a popular idol so suddenly dis-
tliem from the sun, or storm, or dews placed from his shrined and bedaubed
of night. Captain A stated to me that ! with such abominable fifth as the hapless
there were In his camp 2,000; at Young’s Rosecrans. They now assert that their
Point 8.551; on Papaw island, where he late demigod is an intolerable coward;
purposed gathering most of them, 2,800: that he rushed from the field of battle
and on Black’s plantation, on the Yazoo, | to Chattanooga and declared that all
2.400—In all over 10,000. One morning I was lost,. He is even said to have he-
went among the wretched masses where 1 taken himself to opium to soothe the
they were hauled to the bank of tha anguish of his terror, defeat and misery,
river, preparatory to being sent across.
I tried in vain to find some women who
were able to work, as we wished their
labor at our house. All were either sick
or taking care of the sl.de. I saw nothing
—Alas! unhappy Rosecrans! Once a gen
tleman. he converted himself into a bru
tal tyrant and blackg"ard to propitiate
the Lincoln dynasty, and has already I
received the just reward of his self-de- “ but what shall I do for a place to go to
gradation,” I during the long evenings of the winter?”
you,” said the lady; “I’m trying to put
out a fire in my room!”
Why Tapa ^ost Consciousness.
(From Modern Society.)
“If you marry him.’’ said her papa, who
was exhibiting symptoms of violent dis
pleasure, “I shall not only have to sup
port him. but I shall have to pay his
debls, too.”
But the pretty and petulant young
thing who was hanging 'to his coat lapels
was not moved by the argument.
“Now. papa.** she said, “you know well
enough that George has to live, just the
same as other men. And, as to his debts.
I've heard you s«g hundreds of times
that a man’s debts ought to be paid.”
'•■Hamlet” Out West.
(From Harper's Keekly.)
A't the Iambs’ Club one night a num
ber of the members were discussing the
tendency of the average comedian to in
sist that his forte is really tragedy, when
some one chanced to ask "Billy” Crane
whether he was an exception to the rule
in that respect.
“No,” replied Crane, ”1 can't say that
'I am. Y"ears ago In the west I tacklciT
‘Hamlet.’ ”
“I suppose,” -the questioner continued,
“the audience called you he fore the cur
tain?”
“Called me!’’ reiterated Crane. "Why,
man, they dared me!”
“The Modern Rea'der’s Bible.”
(From The Weekly Exchange.^
Shortly after little Margaret, aged 4.
had been taken to see "Peter Pan,” in
which Maude Adams plays the title role,
her 6-year-old brother undertook to tell
her the story of the creation.
"And then, ’Margaret.” said he. "after
the Lord had made all the rest of the
things. He made a man and called him
Adam, and by and by Adam got tired of
being alone, and the Lord took one of
Adam’s ribs from him when he was
asleep and made a wife for him as a
surprise, and her name was—”
“Oh. I know! I know!” exclaimed little
Margaret quickly, “her name was Maude
Adams.”
His "Tefrihle Prospect.
(From Tit-Bits.)
He was a quiet and unobtrusive young
man. and he had called upon the same
girl regularly for five and a half years
without in any way divulging his future
plan of campaign. Not unnaturally, the
damsel had grown weary of this, and to
clear the air she at last decided that
Henry must be firmly dealt with. So
one evening, when they were cosily seat
ed on the couch, she said, without any
advance on the young man’s part:
“No, no, Mr. Bottlewash, I cannot
marry you; so it is useless for you to call
upon me any more.”
"Alas!” murmured the youth, “what
shall I do? What shall I do?”
Oh. do not take it so hard, Henry! I
will reconsider—”
“It Isn’t that,” Interrupted the man;
'em went ki'en it down her throat. Fact,
that is, sure. Yes, ma’am there's some
euros sort of snakes, too. There's one
kind with a sort of pizen sharp horn on
the tip of his tail. Don't pizen him,
though. He ketches it inter his mouth,
neks hisself inter a hoop, and rolls his-
self along the ground faster’n greased
lightnin', just like a hoople.
“Yes. ma’am. I'd oughter to know all
about snakes, fer I've killed a heap hun
dreds on ’em.”
Such was the honest opinion of this
little country lad. He “knew all about
snakes,” and in truth, he probably did
know as much as most per»ple in that
respect, which ls exactly little or noth
ing. It Is a singular fact that Intelli
gent people who would instantly reject
any nonsensical statements regarding oth
er animals, are prone to accept os truths,
the most ridiculous statements, so long as
they apply to snakes.
POPULAR IGNORANCE.
To begin with, there is a wrong im
pression as to the number of venomous
esrpents in this country. To most peo
ple a snake is a snake, “without distinc
tion ag to race, age or color.” As a mat
ter of fact, there are very few really
dangerous reptiles in America. ’’’hlef
among these are the several varieties
of the rattlesnakes, and the copperheads.
The latter family are less venomous than
the rattlers, and are fast becoming the
scarcest of all our serpents. The copper
head, or, as he ls scientifically called,
trlgono contortrlst, which means liter
ally the triangular twister. Is a near
cousin to the rattlesnake. It has a thick
body, from 2 to 3 feet long, and ls flow
anj clumsy in its movements! But he-
camse it lurks In moist and shady places,
and gives no token of its presence until
stepped upon, it Is frequently more in evi
dence as to actual damage than the still
morp dreaded rattlesnake, which always
escapes from the approach of man. if
possible. The prevailing color of this
family is a rather light, reddish brown
above, with a series of darker transverse
bands, which widen on the sides Into
patches. It receives Its popular name
from the reddish, copper-like tint of the
head. The tall ends In a horny point,
but It has no rattle. It never attacks
Sinless stepped upon, but this Is liable to
happen in such spots as it frequents, un
less one is on the lookout.
One of the copperhead, family that loves
the water, and lives around ponds and
rivers. Is familiarly known In the south
as the water moccasin, or cottonmouth.
This ls the most to be feared of all the
water snakes. But he is a sluggish *el-
low. If you find him coiled on the land
merely open wide his white mouth, and
wait f.or you to step on him. If you dare.
He reminds one of the Irishman vho
was so spoiling for a fight that he went
about with long coat tails, waiting for
some one to step on them. So with the
cottonmouth. He invites you to step on
him. and then resents tbe liberty, hut
never strikes unless he is first touched.
His bite, though very painful, is seldom
fatal, if proper remedies are used.
In fact, while several of our snakes
are poisonous to a more or less degree,
the crotalus horrid us, or diamond hacked
Dan Burnham.
ANIEL HUDSON
BURNHAM, who
says the ruin of San
Francisco makes - :-
sible the reh Ildlrg
of the city, '-n a com
prehensive. h.irrno-
nioois and beauti. !
plan, is one of the
most noted architects
in the country. Il6
-.vas the principal ar-
ehiitect and director
of works of the Chi
cago world’s fair,
fish and reptiles.
CARING FOR THEIR YOUNG.
It may be recalled that the hoy whO; an( j the Merchants’ Exchange. Mr Burr-
knew all about snakes, asserted that h arn as lived in Chicago since IS55. He
the young ones “went kiten it down” ; was born at H . n derson. N. Y., in 1346.
their mother’s throat. To many, this and received his education in this ci
will seem as much like a romance as and (n
that regarding the “snake what makes),
a hoop of hisself.” But it Is really true.
The care of the snake for its young is j
a question that has been much discussed '
amnnf
authentic instances of the retreat of lit-
j and in a private school in Massachu-
j setts. He is chairman of the national
joommission for beautifying M’ashingt
land of the commission for improving
. c , , Cleveland Ohio, and last vear prepared
ig naturalists. Several apparently: , „ . . 1
„e iif_ plans for heautiwying San Francisco.
tie snakes down heir mother’s throat,
had been recorded, hut it so chance .T
that none of these were from the actual
observations of known naturalists. Its
truth is now, however, generally ac
cepted.
One of the recorded Instances is that
of a prominent naturalist, living in
Soupth Carolina. He found that,a water
moccasin was harboring in the shrubbery
of his grounds, near a stream. Desirous
of locating its lair, ami nt killing his
dangerous guest, he one day discovered
It near a large log. Cautiously placing
a rabbit on the log, he withdrew a short '
distance, and watched the result. Pros- I
XL LI AM C- BROWN
: “’C-ntly elected pres
ident of the Amerl-
an Railway A?a
elation, has been
conspicuous for
years in railroad af
fairs. having be, r>
connected with va
rious lines in several
capacities. He now
vi -e president and
a director of the
New York Central,
and also is an offi-
Ste‘1 Foundries
Wm. C. Brown.
ently the snake saw or smelled the bait, | c j a ] nf the American
and crawling on the log. prrfeeded to j compan y. Mr. Brown was born in 1853.
swallow it. W hen the rabbit was half , j n Herkimer county. New Y'ork. and
swallowed, the naturalist approached, j be? y- an htp railwav career when hut *6
club in hand. Instantly, the snake dis- i vears n j d
gorged Its tid-bit, and uttered a shrill, I '
whistling noise. On the flash, as it were,
the on-looker was amazed to see a nura-
He has been general mana-
j ger of the Hannibal and St. Joe road
and of the Burlington system.
her of tiny moccasins dart from under !
the log, and into the open mouth of
their mother, who then glided away un
harmed by the club suspended over her.
"I was simply paralized with amaze
ment,” explained the naturalist, in relat
ing the incident. The rattlesnake and
copperhead are also believed to resort to
the same expedient, in protecting their
young, when alarmed.
One of the most beautiful snakes int
the United States, is the harlequin,
(elaps fulva.) Its color is exceedingly
bright and rich, being red, with seven- :
teen broad black bands, bordered with
yellow. This little snake has permanent*- j
ly erect fangs, and while classed anion.
ntiOW'ING THE
close of the perform
ance at His Majes
ty's theater recently
at which Ellen Ter
ry had a remarkable
reception. recalling
the farewell benefit
to Nelly Farren. a
retty scene had
on arranged for the
•-'sentation of
Playgoers’ club’s sil
ver casket and an
address )n commem-
Beer-
Ellen Terry.
oration of the actress' Jubilee,
the venomous serpents, its bite is never ;bohm Tree, still in his Falstaff make-up.
fatal, and its disposition ls very gentle , recited an ode of congratulation, at the
and mild. It is found In all the states | close of which a dove fluttered down
from Virginia to Arkansas, and four of ; from thp flies carrvinfr a scroI1 which
the species, small snakes, are natives of | wa , takrn hy a faIry
Texas and Florida. Most of their time
is spent underground, and, like the
ground rattlers, they are often turned
up by plowmen, especially in sweet po
tato patches, for which location they seem
to have an especial fondness.
The eoachwliip snake, (bascanion fla-
gelliformis). is one of the most remarka
ble of all our American serpents. It
reaches a length of from five to six feet,
and occasional specimens even measure
nine feet. This snake is very slender in
proportion to its length. In color, it is
variable, usually showing black above
and lighter beneath, with purple shades.
Sometimes it is clay colored, and again
almost white. But the head is always
the same, and that is raven black. The
resemblance of this serpent to a plaited
leather coach whip, with its polished
brown-black surface, is most remark
able, even the small pointed tail simulates
the thong of a well worn whip.
The Indians, impressed by the slender
Continued on Last Page.
who pre
sented It to the heroine of the evening.
The scroll contained a rhymed response,
having recited which Miss Terry shook
hands with Mr. Tree and with great
y motion s*d her feelings would not al
low her to express In words What she
felt. Mr. Tree and a deputation of the
Playgoers’ club then presented the cas
ket. which Is embellished in relief with
pictures of Olympian games and places
of public entertainment in Athen3. The
ceremony closed with a Wene of Inde
scribable fntbusiasm. Ellen T^rry was
born in 1843 and made her debut on tha
stage April 28, 1856
References.
(From American Spectator.)
Mrs. Jubh—I just hate to get on rall-
so many people die that
road trains
way.
Mr. Jubb—That’s just the reason why
I hate to go to bed. So many more pe>-
S>le die that wa^y.