The news. (Cartersville, Ga.) 1901-1901, May 24, 1901, Image 9

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

THE TRAVELLED MISS TREE. BY HENRY DICK. Most little girls are fond of stories, and Annie MacFarlane was no excep tion to the rule; but then, she was the fortunate possessor of a grandmother who could tell the most charming sto ries in the world. Of these Annie's favorite was a really, truly, live story that had happened to grandmother herself whe" she was a little girl. An nie called it the "Lydia Tree Story,” and twice a yeac, for a few days at Christmas and a for a good long time in summer, when she went to visit her grandmother, they bpgan at once with poor Lydia. “Haven't heard anything from Lydia Tree yet, have you, grandmother?” Annie would call from the carriage door. And grandmother always shook her head and smiled, it seemed a little sadly, as she said: "Nothing yet, my dear.” This was the story: When grandmother was a little bit of a girl she did not have as many playthings as little girls have now, and the few she had were so plain and home-made that the children of to-day would consider them very poor affairs indeed; but to grandmother they were simply beautiful. never having dreamed of anything any finer than her simple toys, it never occurred to her that they could be thought ugly or ridiculous. Grandmother lived on a large fram not far from the city of Boston. As she was the only little girl in the fam ily, she was greatly petted by every one. In the long winter evenings, when there was little to do, some of the farm hands who were clever with their pen-knfves used to employ their skill in whittling out toys for grand mother. Sometimes they were rough block houses that came apart, which you tited together puzle fashion. Some times they, were curious trick boxes made of countless small pieces of wood, which only those who were admitted to the secret could open. Sometimes they were wooden chains made of small links whicn had been cut from a long strip of wood, which grand mother thought made beautiful neck laces. Poor grandmother! You see this was long ago and she didn’t know any better. But the toy of toys whicn had sim ply filled her little heart with rapture was—what do you suppose? —a white birch dolL Can you fancy such a thing? Its head was made of a knot of white birch wood upon which eyes, nose and mouth had been painted with yellow paint. It had a ottle blue calico sun bonnet, from under which hung two long yellow braids made of braided silk. It had a blue calico dress like the sunbonnet. Its sleeves were stuffed with rags for arms, and it had two little pieces of wood for hands. Legs it had none; but then its dress was very long, and grandmother never missed them. It must be that little girls who are intended to grow up into good grand mothers have grandmothers’ hearts from the first. When this beautiful doll was given to grandmother, she took it without a word, and simply sank down on the floor and hugged it to her small breast with a rapture which made her speechless. “Haven’t you a word of thanks to give John, my uear?” said grand mother’s father. He wished his little daughter to grow up well-mannered and not to be ungrateful. Grand mother simply could not speak; but she looked at John with such beaming eyes that he understood. “That's all right, little ’un," he said, as he gave her brown hand a pat. John must have had a grandmother's heart. Grandmother does not remember how the doll came to be called Lydia Tree; but Lydia Tree she was from the first. Never—until the terrible day which we are coming to —was grandmother separated from Lydia Tree day or night. From that day she forgot to be lonely or to feel sorry that there were no little girls with whom she could play. Lydia Tree filled ail the empty places in her heart. What secrets they shared! What Plans they made! And they played together so happily! Lydia Tree was always thinking of new games—that is. grandmother pretended that it was I-dyia Tree who thought of them. One day in the early summer it hap pened that there was a great deal of work to be done for some reason or other, so grandmother was told to take Lydia Tree and go out and play in the front yard, where (hey wouldn't !>e “under people’s feet.’’ So they went out and sat beside the horse-block, as it was called, for it "'as the place where the wagons al ways stopped and where people mounted their horses. The horse block was the stump of an old tree "ith a smoothly planed top, which m ade the most beautiful place in the world to play store. It was Lydia Tree’s turn to be store keeper that day. She was standing propped up against the side of the block, trying to persuade grandmother to buy some very expensive kind of calico, which grandmother was not *ure she could afford. They were dis cussing the important matter of "'hether it would wash or not, when grandmother heard the clatter of horse's hoofs coming up the road. Both s he and Lydia Tree forgot the excite ment of driving a bargain in their interest in seeing who was coming at that hour of the morning. It seemed to grandmother after wards that at first the rider intended to to keep on without stopping; but just as he came opposite the horse-block, his eye lighted on the little girl with Lydia Tree hugged tightly under arm. He aparently changed his mind and reined in his horse. Grandmother was never able to give much of a description of the man. She always had a vague idea that he was much browned by the sun, that his blue clothes were of a queer cut, and that, he spoke in some way differently from people she knew. But ke smiled down upon her very pleasantly as he asked, “Who lives here, little girl?” ‘My father,” said grandmother, promptly. And then, as she was really a very polite little girl and wished to behave properly, she introduced herself. “An’ I m his little girl, an’ this is Lydia Tree.” At the sight of Lydia Tree’s inter esting countenance held up for his in spection, the stranger seemed much af fected. Probably he had never seen anything quite so beautiful. Grand mother was very much pleased; so when he asked her if she could get him a drink of water, as he was very warm and thirsty, and politely offered to hold Lydia Tree while she went to fetch it, she consented at once. It would be a pleasant and novel expe rience for Lydia Tree to be on horse back. She was not the mother to deny her child any reasonable pleasure or advantage. Lydia Tree was handed up to the stranger, and grandmother de parted for tne water. It took her some minutes, for the drinking gourd was rather large lor her small hands, and she had to walk very slowly to avoid spilling the water. When she reached the horse block she saw Lydia Tree’s head sticking out from the top of the stranger’s jacket. She looked very much distressed, grandmother thought, buttoned up in that way. with her arms inside. Grand mother felt half inclined to cry. She was just about to request Lydia Tree’s return, when the stranger finished his long draught. “I think I’ll take Lydia Tree now, please,” said grandmother, holding up her short arm. The man cast his rapid glance over the yard. There was no one in sight. He gave his horse a sharp cut with the whip. It seemed to grand mother afterward that in that one jump Jthey were dowm the road, leav ing nothing behind them but a cloud of dust. It was several moments before her poor little brain was pierced with the terrible idea that Lydia Tree had also gone. For a moment she was simply paralyzed with anguish. Then, with a cry which brought her mother run ning from the house., she threw her self on the ground in a tempest of tears. It was some time before any one could make out what had happened. Poor grandmother could, only wring her hands and sob: “Lydia Tree! O, Lydia Tree!” When, finally, she had become sufficiently coherent to give them some idea of the tragedy that had befallen her, horses were saddled and several of the farm hands started in pursuit. Grandmother was a great favorite and everybody burned with in dignation to think that a grown man should meanly rob a little girl of her treasure. The man had too long a start. Never again had grandmother set eyes on him or Lydia Tree, although it was many years before she gave over ex pecting them both. She could not be lieve that he did not intend to come back. Her heart was sore at the thought of Lydia Tree compelled to live among strangers. They all decid ed that the man was probably a sailor who had stolen this odd-looking baby doll, perhaps to take to a little child, of his own. Grandmother’s father tried to com fort her by promising that John should make another Lydia Tree for her. John somehow understood little girls as few grown-up people do. So he made her a playhouse instead, for which grand mother was secretly very grateful, al tlßmgh she did not think it right to say she didn’t want another doll, as her father had suggested it. She and John became greater friends than ever. He certainly did have a grandfather’s heart. This story of Lydia Tree was An nie’s favorite story. She never tired of hearing it. It was her secret convic tion that Lydia Tree would returp some day, although grandmother had given up expecting her. She never dreamed that she was to have any part in it. When Annie was 10 years old, her 'ather had some business that obliged him to go away over to Holland, to the city of Amsterdam.. As he might have to be there for many months, Annie and her mother went with him. It was certainly a great ex perience for a little girl, and to say that Annie enjoyed all the wonderful things she saw on that journey and the quaint life in that curious old world city would not express it. It is only with the part of her journey that has to do with Lydia Tree that this story is concerned. When Annie and her mother had been living in Amsterdam about a month there was a great fair held there for the benefit of some charity. Annie’s father had been told that one THE WEEKLY NEWS, CARTERSVILLE, GA. of all sorts of curious toys, which the children from all parts of the world are accustomed to play with. So An nie and her mother went one after noon. It would take too long to tell of all the curious things that made up that wonderful collection—of the tops from Iceland, kites from Japan, stilts from the Marquesas islands, and what An nie called "Noah’s Arks.” from Africa. Of course what interested her most was the collection of dolls. Annie thought most of them frightful, and felt a great deal of pity for the un fortunate children who had nothing better to play with. There was a very kind man there who explained a great many things to Annie and her mother in faultless English. He showed them the most primitive form of doll from Mashona land. Africa. Simply a small lump of w’ood, polished and blackened with age. with a few scratches on top to represent features. The dolls of the Kaffir tribes were a little better; they at least could boast of arms and legs. Then there were dolls from West Af rica. made of hard brown wood highly polished. The strangest thing about these dolls was that their bodies were made bell shaped. Within the bell hung a bunch of clappers made of reeds, which were supposed to repre sent the voice of the doll. "I do not think that the little girl finds these strange dolls very beauti full,” said their guide laughing. “In one moment I will show you some that you will admire more, for they have come from the city of Paris. But first I will show you ?. quaint doll from your own America. She is not very beautiful, either.” As they walked on. Annie’s mother stopped a moment to examine some ob ject that had attracted her eye. She was startled by a cry of “Mother, mother, mother! Oh, do come here!” She found Annie dancing up and down in excitement, waving something about, to the great astonishment of their new friend. "It's Lydia Tree, I know it is, I know it is!” cried Annie, nearly in tears. It certainly was. In every particu lar the outlandish looking doll baby answered grandmother’s careful de scription. There was the knotted wooden head with the yellow paint features; the blue calico dress and sunbonnet, the yellow silk braids, the legless body. Annie’s mother was nearly as excited as her little daugh ter. With a few words of explanation she asked permission to take off the sunbonnet. She had suddenly remem bered a part of the story that Annie had forgotten. If this really were the •long-lost Lydia Tree, her name would be found cut in the back of her head where John had carved it so many years before; and there it was! The curator was very much amused and in terested but of course Lydia Tree had to be returned to her shelf for the time being, as she was a part of the collection. I do not know just how it was man aged. but the curator and Annie's father laid their heads together and managed it; but first one of the Am sterdam papers published a long ac count of the “Traveled Miss Tree's” life and adventures. Annie could not read it, to be sure, as it was all in Dutch, but the paper is one of her most treasured possessions today. It tells how Miss Tree had been sent to the fair by the grand-daughter of a long dead Dutch sea captain, who had bought the queer doll from one of his sailors, presumably the very man who had robbed grandmother of Miss Tree. At all events Lydia Tree crossed the Atlantic once more in Annie's own trunk. After landing in New York they went almost immediately to pay grandmother a visit. You can imag ine how excited Annie was when, al most tumbling out of the carriage in her eagerness, she asked the old ques tion: “Haven’t heard anything from Lydia Tree yet, have you, grandmother?” “Nothing yet,, my dear," said grand mother. “Well, I have!” shrieked Annie, and waving Lydia Tree before grandmoth er’s amazed eyes, she threw herself into her arms. It was certainly a complete sur prise; and when, after a happy day, Annie came to grandmother for her goodnight kiss, she received one of even more than usual tenderness. “It was the most beautiful present I ever received in my life,” she said. For many years afterward Lydia Tree, after her stormy and adventur ous life, passed her time sitting in a low chair beside grandmother’s bed. Grandmother’s glance was some times a little dimmed when she looked at the old companion of her childhood. So many things had happened while Lydia Tree was on her travels.— Youth’s Companion. (ieneral Bell in the Philippines. Once when riding ahead of his col umn in company with 10 of his officers they suddenly came upon a 100 or more insurgents. Bell was cut off from his comrades and found himself alone in a clearing with seven Fili pinos, who were armed with rifles. He bad only a revolver and only one shell in it. He rode headlong into the group of Filipinos shouting, and he shot off his single pistol ball. It struck the cap tain. and the others ran. He caught them and commanded them to throw down their rifles. He captured a part of them and brought them back to their captain, who had only been wounded in the arm. When he re joined his companions he was leading the captain and two other Filipinos as his prisoners. It was for this ex ploit that he received the medal of honor. It was Captain Bel! who res cued Lieutenant Gillmore and his com panions of the navy.—The World's THE UNREST IN RUSSIA. SIGNIFICANCE OF THE PART TAKEN BY THE WORKING CLASS. New Departure in the History of Nihilism A Krmnrkable I’ropagiinda—Scholars Pleaching the Gospel of Peaceful ltevo lution—'“Underground Trade* Unions." The characteristic feature of the disturbances in St. Petersburg is the participation of large numbers of fac tory workingmen in the demonstra tions led by college students, states Y’ork Commercial Advertiser. The despatches from St. Petersburg tell of "a bloody encounter between Cossacks and workingmen.” This is anew departure in the history of Nihilism. The movement which began in the seventies by "going among the pryiple” for purposes of peaceful prop aganda, and which culminated in the killing of Alexander 11. in 1881, was al most exclusively a crusade of cultured young men and women. The educated revolutionists started out upon the theory advocated by Nicolai Chernyshevskl. the leading Russian critic and economist of the sixties, that the better classes owed their superior position to tha labor and sufferings of the masses, and that it was their mo’-al duty to pay the debt by working for the economical and intellectual elevation of the pleas antry. Accordingly, the early phases of Nihilism —a name, by the way, which is seldom applied to the Russian revolutionists in their own country— were of a purely educational nature. The first secret organization to which the present movement is directly traced and of which Prince Kropotkin, the scientist aurl anarchist, now lec turing in this country, was an active member, was starred by a man named Chaikovski. The Chaikovt.?:. or Chaik ovists. originally confined themselves to the spreading of literature allowed by the censor and delivering lectures to working people. Pvinee Kropotkin and others were arrested. The move ment spread. Hundreds of educated young people learned to speak the dia lect of the common people, and putting on peasant garb went to teach the un lettered to read and to write, and to preach the gospel of peaceful social ism. The agitators were sent to Si beria by the hundred, while scores of them died of consumption or went in sane in the political prisons of St. Petersburg and Kharkoff. In 1879 the Russian socialists held a secret convention and split into two factions, the majority assuming the name of Narodovoltzi (party o? the will of the people), while the minority remained faithful to the old policy of propaganda among the peasants. The Naradovoltzi favored a constitutional government as a fi rst step which would clear the way of socialist agita tion. “In order to preach equality and liberty one must first make sure that one will not be buried alive for trying to teach a peasant to sign his name,” they reasoned. “All our ef forts have been set at naught by this barbaric government of ours, and be fore we do anything let us secure some freedom of speech and assemblage— rights which the people of every civ ilized country have been enjoying for years.” 4s an inevitable means to this end, however, as a. “deplorable necessity," the will of the people started a series of “terroristic” measures, expecting to demoralize the government by kill ing off its more obnoxious officials and thus to bring the panic-stricken czar to terms. In order to show that this “terror” was forced on them by the government, and was justifiable under the peculiar conditions under which the Nihilists had to work, the organ of the “underground party” printed, among other things, an obituary of James Garfield, condemning the as sassin and expressing deep sympathy with the mourning republic. The terrorists who staked their lives by mining the tracks of railroads over which the c?ar was to pass, attacking the monarch in broad daylight, or blowing up h*s dining-hall, included the sons and daughters ot some of the highest families in the country. Thus, Sophia Perovskaya, the young woman who gave the signal to fire the fatal bomb upon Alexander 11., was the daughter of a former gov ernor of a province of St. Petersburg and the niece of a cabinet minister. The last issue of the paper pub lished by the terrorists was printed in 1886. Since that time the party of the Will of the People has bean dwind ling in numbers, gradually giving away to “the Social Democratic party.” The underlying principles of this or ganization are identical with the dec larations of the socialist parties of western Europe. Like the German fol lowers of Karl Marx, for example, the Russian Social-Democrats avo bitter ly opposed to anarchism in prinicple as well as in practice, and if they justify, in exceptional instances, “the terror,” they refer the student of their movement to the special conditions which call forth such a departure from their general policy. The basic idea of socialism in west ern Europe is that the “co-operative commonwealth" is to come as the natural outcome of *ho growth of cap ital on the one hand and of the antag onism between the interests of capital and labor on the other. The Social- Democratic movements in Germany, France. Belgium. Austria and other countries are. therefore, essentially labor movements. This is. at present the case in Russia. “Capitalist indus try” in our country is developing rap idly, say the Nihilists of the new school, and the field for socialistic trades unionism, which is the insepar able concomitant of this progress, is growing apace.” The attention of the Nihilists is thus concentrated upon the working. strike and they look upon them as the backbone of the revolution which they advocate. That the new Nihilism is meeting with considerable success is shown by the growing trade-union movement in Russia. An organized strike for an advance in wages was a very uncommon occurrence in that country in the days when the “Will of the People” was at the zenith of its strength. Now these conflicts be tween c apital and labor are the order of the clay. As trades unions are strictly forbid den in Russia the labor organizations are all secret societies, and their rev olutionary character is implied by the very nature of their existence. The working people who take part in the strikes accuse the government of sid ing with capital, and as they clamor for the right of assemblage and of struggling for better wages by the same methods which are regarded as legitimate in western Europe, these "class conscious” workingmen, as the socialists are fond of calling them, naturally form the main force making for the extortion of constitutional re form from the czar. The conflict between students ancl the military in St. Petersburg the other day grew out of the severe treat ment of college students by Bogolye poff, the minister of education and the excommunication of Count Tolstoi. But the rank and file of the demonstra tion was made up of workingmen who had learned in the “underground” trade unions to demand political free dom and to revere the names of the great Russian writers and thinkers. QUAINT AND CURIOUS The finest human hair is blonde, and red is the coarsest. The thick ness of human hair varies from the 250th to the 600th of an inch. In Polynesia baby girls of a year old are placed in wicker cages, and in cages they remain until the time they are married. Happily the children do not seem to mind much, and they grow fat and healthy. At the age oi 12 years or thereabouts most of the little damsels leave their cages to be married. In a chronological record of some of our United States histories is found the following note: “1757, Mont calm took ft. William Henry; massa cre.” Judge of the teacher’s surprise when a pupil arose, and with a confi dent air said: “In 1.757 Montcalm took a fit. and William Henry was massacred.” Compressed oxygen and carburetted hydrogen were made use of by bur glars lately in breaking open a safe in a London nostoffice. It is supposed that they provided themselves with a bottle of oxygen and obtained the other gas from a jet in the building, thus producing a flame intense enough tq destroy the lock. Since the patent office was first es tablished in 1790. only 5757 patents have been granted to women. There are other interesting figures. ThPre have been 415 patents issued to colored men, of which 28 were granted to one inventor and 22 to another. More than 80 percent of the patents issued are to citizens of the United States. The dry lake of the Mojave desert in southern California, about 7x9 miles in extent, has a sandy surface almost as level and smooth as a floor, without a sign of vegetation. Two miners named Hoyt who live near by lately got up a land sailboat for navigating this singular lake. It is made very much like an iceboat, only instead of runners it has wheels. It can be sailed in any direction, and as close to the wind as a sailboat. It lias made as high a rate of speed as 40 miles an hour and is a complete success. An ingenious Austrian inventor has just patented a speaking clock, which he claims’will be of tbe greatest value to people of forgetful and irregular habits. It consists of a clock phono graph combination. In place of the usual striking attachment is a phono graph. which can be set to speak a sentence at any hour desired, and thus become an unfailing reminder of the duties of each successive hour. There is no mechanical difficulty in the way of charging this moral time piece with any number of daily ex hortations. ft can be set to speak once or a dozen times, and may be trusted never to forget its message so long as the clock is duly wound up. Click of tlie Buahmen. In talking the Bushmen give the impression of being in the transition stage, between the click and throat method, of conversing. Imagine the hollow, indistinct utterances such as proceed from a roofless mouth, re lieved by numerous clicks, and you know as much of this language as I am able to give you. In 1896 a few of these people, copying the Maiye, adopted the village system and cereal cultivation for the first time. The great bulk of them still exist on most primitive lines. They wander about the bush without cover, sleeping where they happen to be when the sun goes down, and eating what they find, main ly roots, snakes and berries, as being easily acquired. In wet weather they place a piece of detached bark over the head, and leave the rest of the body to look after itself.—The Geo graphical Journal. Overdoing It. “There’s such a thing as being toe cool in the face of danger,” says the Manayunk Philosopher. “Many a man's reputation has suffered by his temperature getting so low as to make his teeth chatter." —Philadelphia Her- MAUD. The Man with the Hoe, on that sum mer’s day When Maud Muller raked the hay. Was at work in the corn, just over the fence— Apd Maud was a girl of good horse sense. When the Man with the Hoe said, “Marry me!” ‘Go get a reputation!” said she. He worked it right, and in course of time lie, too, was written up in rhyme. And so they were wed, ’mid feasting and laughter, And lived very happily ever after. —Detroit Journal. HUMOROUS. Muggins—Why do you allow your boy to work in a bowling alley? Bug gins—Oh, just for pin money. “The shirtwaist must be about to bloom.” Why do you think so?” “Be cause there goes one on a bud.” • Hoax—l suppose when the footpad held you up you were greatly in censed. Joax —Well, he left me cents less. Teacher —Man proposes and —and what? Who can complete the sen tence? Bright Pupil—And that’s the end of him. Romantic Maid —I wonder what the wild waves are saying? Practical Youth —Oh, they are probably telling fish stories to each other. Nell—Has Mr. Siokoche proposed to you, yet? Belle—No. He reminds me of a self evident truth. “How do you mean?” “He goes without saying.” Teacher—Of course you understand the difference between liking and lov ing? Pupil—Yes. miss; I like my fa ther and mother, but. I love apple pie. Towne —So he’s really dead. Well, he made a hard fight. If ever a man had an iron will he was the man. Browne —Yes, but I’ll bet the lawyers will break it. Prison Visitor —This wouldn’t have happened to you if you had been taught to pray from your childhood. Convicted Burglar—You’re wrong. I was taught to prey from my childhood. “And do these Indian girls never evince a tendency to relapse into their former savagery?” Tears sprang to the eyes of the mission worker. "Ah, yes,” sighed she. “Only last evening they set the table without putting doy lies under the finger bowls.” They were on the train, on their wedding trip. “It seems to me the conductor is rather personal,” com plained the bride. “Perhaps he thinks this is a, personally-conducted tour,” replied the groom, who was still rat tled from has recent experience. “So you quarrelled with George?” said one young woman. “Yes,” an swered the other, with much pathos. “Is your engagement broken off?” “Oh, no. I told him I never wanted to see his face again, and he said that he would leave me forever. But we didn’t go so far as to break off our engage ment.” A PYRAMID OF DIMES. They Count In the Uiriml Total of the Kecelptn. “Does the government make much out of these pretty blue stamps?" she, asked the clerk at the stamp window as her gloved hand dropped a dime on the glass counter in payment for a special delivery letter to Charlie. “Certainly, miss,” responded the clerk. “The government must get revenue from some source other than the internal revenue and import taxes. It tries to make both ends meet In the postal service and endeavors to earn an honest penny or two extra. “You will now, upon mailing that letter, obtain a special service, for which, of course, you ought to pay. The government cleans up a neat little pile ear,h year from dimes naid for special delivery stamps, receiving last year 5,191,000 pieces, and employing 2173 messenger boys to deliver them, the average time for the delivery of each letter being 15 minutes. “The government received in rev enue from his source d.imes to the amount of $627,800, and paid for run ning this branch of the service $477,- 100, making a neat little profit of $147,000. “You see, miss, the carrying in the mails of love letters like the one in your band, and other missives, costs money, and the department spent last year $107,700,000 to do it. As it re ceived only $102,300,000, there was a deficiency of $5,385,000. these re ceipts $94,000,000 came from the sales of postage stamps, stamped envelopes, newspaper wrappers and postal cards. So every cent the government may make adds to the total receipts and lessens the deficiency, even down to the amount received from the sale of waste paper. The profit it makes on the sale of the little stamp books with leaves that won’t stick together at an advance of only one cent over the face value of the stamps in the book has yielded $4500 in a single month." —Washington Star. Virtue Poorly Kewnr<le<l. A curious example of the reward of excessive virtue is the case of certain British pickle manufacturers who have been making their pint bottles hold a little more than a pint, to be on the safe side of the English law. When these pint bottles arrived at Canada they feund that there was a law in operation which provides that any package measuring more than a pint must pay duty as a quart.—London Chrenicle, It takes a brave man to face a den-