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OCTOBER 6, 190C. THE SUNNY SOUTH THIRD 'PAGE « I | Funston and Pershing, Real Soldiers of ] \ Fortune, Again in the Limelight ^ • HE day of the soldier of fortune is not past. Some when reading nov els regarding; the swash bucklers of old, think of them as connected with conditions which are long since gone. The ability to win a place at the head of an army by one single brilliant feat is generally assigned to bygone centu ries, yet the names of two men, who In an amazingly short time have gone to the top in the anilltary service of the United States prove that just as in the past the soldier of fortune can still carve out his place over night. General Frederick Funston and General John J. Pershing. Sight years ago, before the Spanlsh- American war, these names were un known. Funston began as an Insignificant school teacher, yet now so strong a place has Ihe won for himself that at the first threat of trouble Funston is the man of the hour the llrst to (be called to the front by Uncle Sam. He aided the American forces to tri umph in Cuba. Agulnaldo, the Filipino chieftain, had to be captured. Funston was the man assigned to the Job and he succeeded. The upset conditions of San Francisco after the recent upheaval made necessary a man who could restore order. Funston was called to the task, and made child’s play of it. Now hardly is this work done before Uncle Sam has de tached him to Cuba, to aid in bringing back law-abiding conditions there. MAN OF THE HOUR. No matter how much his enemies may belittle him, the diminutive general, the “little game cock,” as he is called, is the man for the task that is so hard tha-t everybody else shirks it. Pershing has just attracted attention through an extraordinary promotion. He was jumped by the war department over the heads of 882 officers, who were ahead of him in the line of promotion, in order that he might be made a brigadier gen eral at once, without waiting for the tedious process that would make him one In the regular order. The act Is said to have been Inspired by President Roose velt. who has appreciated General Per shing’s great military ability. Except in the case of General Funston. who was made a brigadier from the vol unteers after his capture of Aguinaldo. there is no other instance upon record where bravery and efficient service have been so promptly or so extensively re warded. After this no one ought ever to say charge of the districts of Jolo and Min- danoa. This was Pershing’s opnortunb'-, r"4 he seised It with the speed of the true soldier of fortune. On the Island of Sulu he reigned as a veritable czar, and kept the sultan and hts followers In subjection, not less by his diplomacy than by his military valor. He studied the Korean deeply in order that he might deal out justice that would content the disciples of Moham- met. Yet when uprisings demanded campaigns, he was again on i.ie Job, and in a number of bloody engage ments be gained a fame for valor that has sent him whirling to the top of Uncle Sam’s service. It was Pershing who, with a small force of men, Invaded the mountain- j ous strongholds of the Moro bandits and so overwhelmingly defeated them that no troiable from that source has been experienced since. Pershing is a son-in-law of Senator Warren, of Wyoming, chairman of the senate committee on military affairs. This circumstance had nothing what ever to do with his promotion, but it may prove an important factor in ob taining his eonfirmatlTin by the senate. X5he Borthwick Theory * * By E. C. DAWSON * * •.#-«e..e..e«.#.,e»e»»»-#»-s»- e-»-# •-•'• e * #-* #-*-®e-*-e-» e ROFESSOR JOHN BORTH WICK closed his front Points of View General Funston and His Charming Wife. colonel, and in command of all the artil lery of Gomez's army. T>uring those eighteen months of un paid service with llie insurgents his left arm was broken by a fragrant of a shell; iie got Mauser bullets through both his lungs, and spent three months in a jun gle hospital where, just to help his con- vaiesence along a bit, he contracted ty phoid fever. Next a fall from a horse resulted in an obstinate abscess, and finally he was captured by the Spaniards, and it was only bis ability to tell a good story and stick to it that saved him from a volley against a stone wall. As it was, the Spaniards thought he Mrs. Pehshlng, nee Helen Warren.. that it is hard to make rapid advance- / had given them much valuable informa- ment in a military career. No man in j tion, which he had, except for the ad- any business could expect to go to the j jective. and released him, whereupon he made his way back to New York and at once entered a hospital “to be cut into thin slices and sewed together again,” as lie wrote a friend. At the end of the Spanish-American war, in which Funston was an early volunteer, and in which lie distinguished himself in many engagements, lie did not immediately apply for a commission in the United States army, but every prominent American soldier who had top in less than a decade of actual service, yet this is what has been ac- j complished by these two soldiers of for- j tune, and although we have had a little j fighting to do in that time, there has been I pothlng very strenuous for a great nation like ours, and therefore no great oppor tunities for our military men. In connection with both men it ought to be remembered that while each had his share of luck, that it was not the Goddess of Fortune alone that lifted them to exalted rank. Funston went through many hardships before he came to Ills present rank, and not the least of his valuable qualities hag been the willingness to take without complaint whatever service might be as signed him. Although credited to Kansas from the fact of his long residence there, Funston was born In Kansas, Ohio. No man could have seemed less fitted for military service. In person he Is so much undersized for an army officer as to seem a joke, for lie is only 5 feet 4 Inches jn height, but Napoleon was small, too, and the same qualities of boundle?-. courage that marked the greatest of sol diers is the strongest attribute of this American soldier. Ftor a time Funston knocked about hi search of his right calling. He was a newspaper reporter, and spent time in the government service, going on botani cal excursions to Montana and Alaska. In both these trips lie underwent hard- | ships with the same stoical endurance ! that has marked his conduct since ne became a soldier. Then the Cuban war reached a point where It enlisted the sympathy of ven turesome Americans who did not see tit to wait until the United States govern ment got Into action, but went ahead to give what help they could. Funston corresponded with the Cuban junta, and was awarded a commission ns captain of artillery In the Cuban army. WITH THE INSURGENTS. At first hls command consisted of one gun. But It was not the habit of Ihe little Kansan to be content with little things. In eighteen months he was lieutenant figured In the brief engagement, had made the discovery that Funston was the kind of material that was needed in the country’s military service, and so he was persuaded to remain in the ser vice. IN THE PHILIPPINES. His next big job was to be sent to the Philippines, to effect the capture of Aguinaldo, who. it will he remembered, was pursuing particularly vexing gue rilla warfare against the United States. It looked like a hard job for a. volun teer. for numerous other regular army Raders had failed in the same assign ment, but it wasn’t part of the Funston plan to ask questions or cavil. He set to work on the problem, and arranged hls own scheme of doing the trick. Through intercepted correspondence he lenrned the strength of Aguinaldo’s force, and also talit he was waiting reinforcements. He conceived the idea of arming a number of native troops to pass off ns part of these reinforce ments. and thus bv craft trap the Fili pino chieftain in hls lair. I.otters were forged in the name of Lueana, .one of the Filipino generals, telling Aguinaldo that troops were on the way. Aguinaldo was completely deceived. TVhen Funston. at the head of his force, came within 8 miles of Aguinaldo’s camp, his men were so completely done out by their long inarch that they were unable to go any further, and sent word to the Filipino president that he should send aid. Aguinaldo. supposing them to be his newly arrived troops, went in person with a small body guard to meet hls friends. Then the deception was aban doned. Funston’s men fired Into the body guard of the Filipino leader and made him a prisoner. Aguinaldo at first raved, but eventually accepted the sit uation. Sentimentalists criticized Funston for the deception he used, but the fact re mains that the little general did what many others bad failed to do, and what lie had set out to accomplish, and rid the United States of the strongest factor for continuing trouble in the Philip pines. and this knowledge was balm enough for any unkind tilings that might be said. It also made Funston a fixture in the regular army, as a commission was virtually thrust upon him shortly after. Funston faced a different problem at San Francisco after the fire and earth quake. There hie deeds called for ad ministrative. rather than military skill, but lie again rose to the situation. His knowledge of the Cuban makes him the ideal man to cope with any situation that may arise in the island of perpetual unrest. PERISHING’S RISE. Pershing’s rise lias been almost equdTTy rapid. Nine years ago he was an ob scure Instructor in tactics at West Point. The outbreak of the Spanish-American war sent him to Santiago. After the war lie was appointed chief ordnance officer and then was out of service f# - a while through illness. Then for a period he was busied with prosaic department detail, until in 1900 he was made an adjutant general, sent to the Philippines, and placed in OU knew the little Beau champ woman, didn’t you?” said Lady Chari- wood, pouring out tea. “Slightly,” said Grim- wood. ”1 see she’s gone off at last.” "Run away?” ‘”1 es. with that poor young Mortimer, I won- uered how soon it would come and who It would be.” “Young scoundrel.” “You wouldn’t say so if you really knew.” said Lady Chariwood. “She was born to run away and do tilings like that. He’s merely another victim, poor boy—such a nice boy, too. I was quite fond of him.” “I suppose lie persuaded her. A man doesn’t do that sort of thing lightly.” “Mv dear man,” said I^ady Chariwood sweetly. “I knew Jenny Beauchamp quite well. She wasn't the sort that needed any persuading. Of course, Beauchamp's a brute. Every one knows that; but I can see exactly- what hap pened. Poor young Mortimer sympa thized. She took him literally—fell in Ids arms and wept, and then he felt bound—in honor—to go further. It's a thousand pities. Nice boys like that ought to have chaperones when they go among married women.” “Perhaps he loves her,” said Grim- wood, thoughtfully. "There are always certain excuses to be made for a man who really loves a woman, married or unmarried.” “You're such an incorrigible idealist.” said Lady Chariwood. “No one who knows Jenny Beauchamp would doubt that she was clever enough to make him think he loved her, but she's dabbled at the game too long to convince any one but a very Innocent boy.” Strolling home through the park, Grimwood chanced against Jimmy Carew. Mortimer's most intimate friend ”1 suppose all London’s talking about it.” said Carew, morosely. “Pretty much, I gather.” “The Infernal scoundrel,” said Carew. "You know I feel It pretty badly; I In troduced him to the Beauchamps, and I never suspected anything until T got a wire yesterday, sent ot'f from Verona.” "Was she unhappy at home?” ’’No. Not more so, at any rate, than any woman likes to think she is. Of course, tl^ey all have their ups and downs, that’s how they get interest out of iife—by fancying they’re unhappy one day and the next day reveling in the reaction when they realize that they re quite happy after all. One of the best little women going, really, and then that young blackguard must have come along and talked poetry for sympathy or Platonics.” “It’s always rather difficult in these cases,” said Grimwood. ”to understand quite what were the underlying motlxea “It’s plain enough to see what hap pened here,” said Carew. “A youngster with nothing to do. ingratiates himselt witli a pretty woman, who. out of mu- housekeeper. General Frederick Funston, an He Appeared Just Previous to Joining Army. Willi a i'icu.t , , r _. . „ taken kindness, is civil to him. Then he tells her he loves her, and compares his great passion with her husband s mat ter-of-fact affection—you know the Ber nard Shaw business—he needs her most, and so on. and so to save him 'font doing anything desperate, she pities him and goes off with him. * ^ "What does Beauchamp say?” “Oh. nothing. He never talks.” In the club. Bulstrode, or the engi neers, just home from .India, put down tile paper as Grimwood came in. “It’s a pretty awkward business this about young Mortimer.” “You knows the Beauchamps?” “Fairly well. I was under him. you know. I never noticed her much.” "How does he take it?” “Beauchamp’s one of those devils who never talk, hut lie’s hard hit. I fancy he was wrapped up in her; more than he knew. T mav be wrong, hut it always seems to me that it needs a very clever woman to be the wife of a man who doesn’t talk. Funny thing how women depend on conversation. Always imagine people are not considering tiiem if they re not continually explaining—well, explain ing that they are.” “Was she a member?” said Miss Isaacs to Mrs. Baker-Smith in the smoke room of the Elyalan Club. "I often saw her here, hut T thought she was only brought in. perhaps.” “Oh. yes, but she wasn't very popular. I believe men liked her.” “T suppose one ought not to envy her,” said Miss Isaacs, rather wistfully, "but it always seems a little unfair that woman who has shown that she Is not quite good should not only have a home and a husband, hut should still monop olize all the men, while other women are never noticed. There are so few men. andthose there arc don’t want to marry, hut ,1 suppose half a dozen would have run away with Mrs. Beauchamp it she'd looked at them." ‘‘She'll come to a bad end,” said Mrs. Baker-Smith, primly. "But even a had end might be more- more interesting than this,” said Miss Isaacs, wearily. Tn a hotel at Verona, Mrs. Beauchamp looked out the window with moist eyes. “Well, what are you thinking about, dear?” said young Mortimer. ■ * —^ tuir,iring-—well, i - thinking that T wished I knew what he was thinking.” “You'd better go back, perhaps, and find out.” said the boy. almost savagely. “That's just it. I shouldn’t know even if T did go back. You must not let me think.” a-’d she turned to him with a careless laugh. “I'm sorry; forgive me.” And they went into dinner, radiant. door at 9:14 a. in., one minute ahead of scheduled time. This enabled him to collect a scrap of paper from his lawn and inter It decently in a bed of va riegated leaves fallen from the maples bordering the roadway. The sharp Oc tober breeze exhumed It almost before his 1/iek was turned, and Ills watching fro man upper window, observed that men with a vast amount of brains showed an extraordi nary want of common sense. Professor Rnrthwirk—with th" alpha bet transposed after his name—walked to the end of the bioek and turned the corner that brought the buildings of the Canadian geological survey into view. For a generation past he had he n one of the department’s shining lights: over and above all. lie was the Borthwick Theory. Tt was impossible, in scientific circles, to discuss the ppeglaclal period in the polar regions without reference to the Borthwick Theory. Tt permeated the cal culations of two decades of geologists as Inevitably as the knowledge that cer tain fossils were characteristic of cer tain horizons. The Theory had its origin in a handful of obscure fossils collected by thn pro fessor In early manhood, when field in structions had taken him. one of a hand of pioneers. Into unexplored regions bor dering upon the arctic. The professor, aged with the Theory; younger men went into the field, nh'e— where he was now unahlc— to withstand! the hardships entailed: he remained in hls laboratory, and on the evidence of their researches continued to deduce and establish the theory, link by link. Year by year iie hoped for the conclusive re sults that would blazon it on time's rec ords as incontrovertible fact. Thus the autumn was a season of par amount Importance to him, since it her alded the return of the field staff and the possibility that the northwest had yielded the clews he needed. He paused nn the steps of the Survey with a dawning sense of missgiving. •Suppose that, in place of confirmatory evidence, the season’s work served to weaken the foundations of the Theory, or in any way suggested the possibility of his critics being right and he wrong. A side door into the building opened to exude a couple of empty crates, indi cation. therefore, that the fossils and mineral speciments collected in the past season were unpacked and awaiting identification. The professor’s autumnal elation reas serted itself, his forebodings vanished; entering the survey, lie said good morn ing to the Janitor in a tone that caused the official to note, thoughtfully, that he mounted the stairs to the next floor taking two at a time. In a corridor Professor Borthwick hap pened upon a man fresh from the venter tal attainments, coupled with an as sured manner. She was self-sacrificing and self-assertive as occasion demanded, championed her chief in puhllc, and bul lied him in private as one who knew hls weaknesses and corrected hls spell ing. He turned to his desk and the morn ing’s correspondence. “Nothing of im portance—ah, yes, unfortunately—a re minder from tlie editor of the Scienti fic Journal about the contribution 1 promised. He shall have that note on a Fossil Fish Tooth from the Devonian— when It’s finished, only”—he referred again to tile letler, and glanced toward tiie sampling room door regretfully—"he wants it at once.” “And you want to get to the fossils, sn The Journal must wait.” suggested Miss Dickson, conniving with the pro fessor’s inclination against his con science. “A promise—” began «fie professor pe dantically. drifting toward a bureau. From a drawer containing manuscript he extracted the Fossil Fish Tooth sheets. Miss Dickson took them from him compassionately. “I'll look through it and see what al teration is needed—your attention would be so divided,” she said. Tiie professor bore the imputation with meekness and made a beeline for the sampling room. It was past the luncheon hour, hut the professor was still closeted in tiie sam pling room. Miss Dickson decided to ! give him another half hour, and re- | verted, hungry tint patient, to the Fossil | Fish Tooth. At the end of the period I she knocked at the door and entered. [ "Time you went to lunch, professor,” she said. I He was seated with his back toward ! her. before a table littered with rock pecimens, his h: ad sunk between his I shoulders, his elbows resting on the | table | It struck her, for the first time, that | he looked very old. and shriveled and I fragile; the reaction, possibly, from his i earlier elation. He seemed unconscious j of iter presence; his eyes were glued to | a magnifying glass beneath which lay | a fragment of limestone containing fos- DO YOU GET UP WITH A I/AME BACK? Kidney Trouble Makes You Miserable. Almost everybody who reads the news papers is sure to kuow of the wonderful cures made by Dr. i Kilmer’s Swamp- J Root, the great kitl- i nev, liver and blad der remedy. It is the great med ical triumph of the nineteenth century ; discovered after years of scientific research by Dr. Kilmer, the eminent kidney and bladder specialist, and is wonderfully successful in promptly curing lame back, uric acid, catarrh of the bladder and Bright's Disease, which is the worst form of kidney trouble. Dr. Kilmer s Swamp-Root is not rec ommended for everything but if you have kidney, liver or bladder trouble it will be found just the remedy you need. It lias been tested in so many ways, in hospital work and in private practice, and has proved so successful in every case that a soecial arrangement has been made by which all readers of this paper, who have not already tried it, may have a sample bottle sent free by mail, also a book tell ing more about Swamp-Root, and how to findout if you have kidney or bladder trou ble. When writing mention reading this -generous offer in this paper and send your address to Dr. Kilmer & Co., Binghamton, i N. Y. The regular | fifty-cent and one- dollar size bottles are sold by all good druggists. Don’t make any mistake, but remember the name, Swamp-Root, Dr. Kilmer’s Swamp-Root, and the address, Binghamton, N. Y., on every bottle. Homo of Si*Amp-Root. ils. j He made no reply, nor even the slight- | est movement. She waited a moment | longer, and with a woman’s intuition j divined that something was wrong. Professor, there’s something wrong! Toil me what it is.” slie said Suarply. He pointed at tiie specimens before him and tried to speak, and with the several languages at nis command could find no word to express himself. He raised his eyes to hers, shamefacedly; a suspicion of the truth flashed upon her— he read it in her eyes—and flung the magnifier from him with a gesture of despair. "AH dis proved,” fie said. faltering from syllable to syllable, and sank back in the chair, a withered, decrepit, old old man. “Nonsense! Not the Theory?” she re torted. struggling with overwhelming conviction of the truth and the utter fu- t’lity of flfflitIn£»■ against, it. , A knock came at the outer door It to him-of vital Interest. The profes- j galvanized the poor, broken old man into sor was popular with tiie younger genet ation following Tits footsteps in the northwest; Its solitudes bore everlasting active misery, j “A lawh-inigr-stfxsk! A doddering [idiot! (rood God!” ho .said. old witness of him and of their esteem, even j Miss Dickson answered the knock in though the Theory should pass, stantaneouslv. and lakes to match. "A successful season hope, stepped into the passage, Borthwick mountain, a Borthwick river, I and closed the door behind her The professor is busy—extremely ill. ! busy; for goodness' sake leave him in said the professor punctiliously, Peace.” she said with irritation to the 1 intruder. "Oh, It's you, Mr. Tillman. T beg your pardon—win you come hack (presently—I mean tomorrow? Profes sor Borthwick promised an article for the next number of the ‘Scientific Jour- man? but with an undertone of eagerness in his voice that was unmistakable. "That's for you to decide, professor,” the younger man replied. "There's a crateful of specimens watting for you, j na l.’ and we must get it off todav some some of them new, I think. We followed how .. * t<Kia> ’ some- up the west fork of the Borthwick and explored one of tiie unknown tributaries. A wonderful country, but the difficul ties—” “No doubt, no doubt.” interrupted the professor gently; transport problems were mere details, and he wanted facts. "Come to my room when you have a mo ment to spare,” he pursued. ”1 should be glad to note down everything likely to be of service in my researches.” He proceeded down the corridor and readied the door labeled with his name. His stenographer, Miss Dickson, was seated at iier desk, studying the stock and share column of the morning paper. "Good morning,” said tiie professor, The janitor shuffled away; Miss Dick son re-entered tiie study, and (paused for a moment's reflection. Before returning to the professor she slipped on her hat and coat. She came to the table and scrutinized tiie specimens lying before him. Next she turned to a cabinet filled with rock sections labeled "Borthwick River Se ries.” and picked out several fragments from a miscellaneous heap resembling in shape and size those that lay on the table. Tiie professor watched her with apa thetic curiosity; she came beside him and picked up the telltale limestone near the magnifier, and dropped the pieces, one , ... , | by one, into the capacious pockets of her with the same jubilance he had evinced c ^ a( . ner toward the janitor. "What a delightful day!" She dabbled mildly in shares, and the professor heard of her ventures with the puzzled interest that a man with a banking account and no use for money would naturally evince toward a woman with gambling propensities—and a sal ary. Next to the Theory. Miss Dickson was an indispensable adjunct to the pro fessor's welfare. Every New Year’s eve a check, for the purchase of additional shares, lay on her desk, presented "with the gratitude and esteem of J. Borth wick.’’ She was a little. energetic woman, agreeable, well educated, well read. Ton years as the professor's secretary hail j grounded her so effectually in tiie Theory and all pertaining to it that she had become a source of reference on the subject, consulted by tiie professor FOR A GUEST BOOK. A book of guests! May it tnclude The wise, tiie witty ar.l the shrewd. And such as own the double art That makes them friends of head nn.l heart. Mav these who stand recorded here Grow dearer with each added year; Acquaintance into friendship grow And friendship ever brighter glow. Old friends are best, we rightly say. But. as thev fall upon the way. Keen full the racks with newer friends, Till Time the adjective amends. And if old friends still seer.i the best, Tiie adage should be thus expressed: Friends are not best because they're old But old. because the yeai-s that rolled— The years that try and mar and mend— Have proved them worth the title friend. —8. Weir Mitchell In The Century. "The river,” she said quietly, and ar ranged the specimens front the cabinet in the space beside the glass. “No. no!” he exclaimed. She drew- on iier gloves with determina tion. “They w-ill never be missel,” she said. He remembered with terrible joy that she had always had her own way. She was having it now, and he sat there—un protesting. "Now I’m going to lock you in for a few moments, professor.” she resumed “You’ve overdone things today, and you're too busy to see people.” The doorhandle elieked and the key turned on the outside. Inevitable reaction succeeded the tension of the last few moments; a shiver ran through the dis traught old man—his head swam, a tight ness at ills throat and chest turned him sick and clammy, his head dropped limp ly on hls hands. “I’m dying for lunch and a mouthful and the geological staff, indiscriminate- of fresli air." said Miss Dirkson to the ly. A kindly nature enhanced her men- janitoT in passing. ”1 won't he gone long, but don’t forget my instructions about the professor.” She took the air from the bridge span ning the river, pitching stones into mid stream with vigorous accuracy. Thus the Borthwick Theory remained unrefuted. for a season, at all events, and possibly for an indefinite period. But she saw in (perspective a vista of weary days—she and the professor enacting the pretense of the Theory; she could not do it. but he, with hls abstruse Intellect and elemental simplicity, was like a child— there was childish, helpless abandonment in his grief, hut where the child's misery is short-lived, his would endure—till the sods in the northwest had been opened to receive Professor Borthwick, as pro vided for in his will. He was old. and it was a terrible shock Miss Dickson found herself wondering, conscience-stricken, how long it would he. She hastened hack to the Survey and the professor. He had not stirred from his seat, and made no sign when she laid her hand on the arm of the chair. “Professor!” she said softly. He did not reply; she scarcely expected that he would, and stood for a. moment irresolute, reluctant to rouse him. His watch, lying on the table, ticked out the seconds; she counted them mechanically. No other sound broke the stillness, not even tiie professor's breathing—she held her own to listen. Another moment passed. and she dropped on her knees beside the chair. "Professor!” she eried, and iier fingers closed on his wrists. * * * “Oh, pro fessor!" A rumor rushed through the building that old Borthwick was in a stupor; later the news spread that he was dead. Miss Dickson was blamed for the folly of letting an old man remain for so many hours without interruption, and without food. “Heart, I’ll he hound.’’ said the janitor. “It's what you'd expect when a man of his age tries to climb the stairs two at a time." "Heart. T am sure.” said Miss Dickson, with nervous conviction. Why suffer with femaie disease "t piles? I will send free to every sufferer my simple vegetable cure. Write Mrs. Cora B. Miller. Box 2056, Kokomo, Ind. Experts Are Scared. The buying of diamonds is becoming a harder task every day. Imitation dia monds arc offered for sale now so near like the genuine, that they often de ceive an expert. The marvelous resemblance of Radius Diamonds to the genuine gem is regard ed with fear by diamond merchants and pawnbrokers throughout the country. It is very hard to tell them from the genuine diamond, and unlike other imitation stones, they hold their fire and brilliancy forever. The Radius Jewelry Co., at 83 Peach tree street. Atlanta, Ga., are selling the Radius diamonds. This store is one of the popular jewelry stores of Atlanta, and do a large business, both in the city and through the mails. They' guaran tee every article sold, satisfaction or your money back. General John J. Pershing, Who Has Been Promoted Over 862 Higher Officers. 1 Telling Their Real Names. (From The Chicago Evening Post.) Miss Georgie Mendum of “The Time, the Place and the Girl” is the wife of Mr. George Parsons, of “The Lion and the Mouse.” Miss Lotta Faust, of the Joe Weber'e company, is Mrs. Richie Ling. Miss Flora Zabelle, of Mr. Joe Weber's company, is Airs. Raymond Hitchcock. Miss Nella Bergen, of “The Free Banee,” is Mrs. DeWolf Hopper. Miss Gertrude Coghlan, of “The Lion and the Mouse,” is Mrs. Augustus Pitou, Jr. Miss Julia Dean, of “Told in the Hills,” is the wife of Mi. Urine Oaldara, of tne Chicago Opera House Dramatic Cora- P< M?ss Ella Hutton, of “The Vanderbilt Cup,” is Mrs. Wilbur Bates, tier hus band is general pr'ess representative of Messrs. Klaw 4c isnanger. One on the Punctual Mr. Skweezem. (From Judge.) An amusing anecdote is told of Mr. Rushan Skweezem, tiie eminent pluto crat and philanthropist. As is well known, he has never abandoned his eariv-formed habits of industry and close attention to business. It lias been his custom to reach hls works every morn ing at 7 o'clock, and for a month or su lie noticed that one of the employees was always there when he arrived. Thinking that the man was attempting to play upon his admiration for those who are not afraid of work, he went to the factory at 6:30 one morning. The employee, however, was on duty. The following morning he went at 6, and, to his great surprise, the employee was also there. Determined to catch the man napping, Mr. Skweezem appeared the next morn ing at 5. Tiie w-orSfiiigman was on deck again. So Mr. Skweezem continuea to appear half an iiour earlier, until at last he came at 3 a. m.; but each time the employee was at his post. That uay Mr. Skweezem went to his paymaster and said: Brown, raise the wages of that man I find at tiie works every morning. He is the most energetlo man in our employ." “What man. sir?” asked Brown. Mr. Skweezem described him. “Why. that is the night watchman,” exclaimed the paymaster. Needless to say. Mi. Skweezem did not raise the fellow s wages; but since then he tells the story with great gusto, fre quently interrupting himself with hearty laughter- A