Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

FLED FROM TIIE BOXERS. THE THRILLINC EXPERIENCE OF A CHINESE CHRISTIAN FAMILY. j|r*. Wun's Story Beinj Driven from riee to Place, the Refugees Finally De cide to t.ive Themselves to Their Per secutors amt Die lor Their Faith. The following experience is that of the family of Deacon Wau, of the First Congregational church in Pekin, told in the words of his wife. The iamily lived in a large court with sev eral other families, some of whom W ere Boxers. Here is Mrs. Wau’s story: We were not afraid, though we felt auxious on account of our four chil dren. If w’e should be killed and they left, who would care for them? June 13 I was alone in the house with the children. All day the neighbors had been talking of the terrible things that were to happen to the Christians. I heard of the burning of the Methodist Episcopal Mission and the London Mission —heard the shouting on the street of “kill, kill, kill.” About 8 o'clock I could see the flames of the American Board chapel and hear the noise made by the multitude gathered about the place. My husband did not come, and I thought he had been killed. 1 took the children all up stairs and then sat down and waited. They were crying for their father. While trying to comfort them, a friend tame quietly up stairs and told me not to make any noise, but to come out on the street, where my husband was waiting for me. My little two year-old girl was asleep, and I thought I would first go and see what was wanted and then come back for her. We went out in the street, and there in a dark corner was my husband. His first words were: “Where is our pre cious baby, can it be that you have left her?” I said no, I wanted to see him first, and then if we were going to try to escape, I would go back for her. After we got the baby we made our way along in the dark to a rear court where a Christian family were living. From this court Mr. Wau climbed to the top of a temple belonging to a rich man living in a court at the front. I stood below and he whispered down to me what he saw and heard. We heard the church at American Board chapel fall and a general shouting of voices. Afterward a man went by, calling out if there were any followers of the for eign devils about they had better es cape at once, as a house-to-house search is to be made by the Boxers before midnight. Every follower may be killed. From the temple roof my husband saw them go to our house three times. At last he said it is no use to think we can escape them, but we will try. Don’t let the children make a bit of noise. I will carry them one by one to the roof here, then we can talk and plan. He took the children up, and one by one carried them along the wall, then got onto the roof. I told my little girl not to cry, that papa would be very careful. She said “Yes,” and was perfectly still. Ido not know how I managed to climb to the top of that eight foot wall, to walk along the narrow top and then crawl up the roof of the temple. All the time it seemed as if 1 was helped from be hind. A big tree overshadowed the too£ and we hid under the branches, watching the burning of the chapel and homes of the friends we loved. All over the city were fires, and the screaming of the mob was terrible. It was a horrible night. At last we climbed into the tree and reached the ground—bruised and torn. We hid in a little empty room back of the tem ple. At last, about light, one of the ser vants saw us and told his master. We all six got down on our knees and entreated them to hide us for a few days, but they said no, there was to be a house to house search in the city, and if they sheltered Christians they would be killed themselves. My husband walked ahead, carrying the baby and I followed after with the other three children. Soon we met a band of soldiers. Some did not notice us; others said: “Yet’s kill them." One said: “Let them go; cannot you see it is a whole family. Let them off this time.” Eveu with their knives drawn I did not tremble. We walked for some distance till we came to a large family cemetery. The keeper was a kind man and lived there all alone. He told us to come in and said he would do his best, but the owner of the place was a Boxer, and it was not safe for Christians to stay. He got us some supper. It was very poor and dry. Our lips were cracked from fever and thirst, and I asked him to give us some porridge. We had a quiet night, but in the morning he said it would not do for us to stay. Then my husband became discouraged. He said the best and only thing for us to do is to go and give ourselves to the Boxers. We will only ask them to please kill the chil dren first, and then you and I will die together. The suffering will not last over two hours, and then all sor row" will be over. I agreed to this. He then called the three oldest children, Wen Ping, Paul and Peter. Said to them: “My children, your father would suf fer for you if he could, but he cannot The Boxers will ask you if you are Christians. If you say no they will let you off, if you say yes then they ■will kill you; but that only means suffering for a little, and then we will be with Jesus.” The children one af ter the other said: “I will say lam a Christian, I loVe Jesus, I am not afraid to die.” It did not seem as though we could walk any more. The keeper said at last he would see if he could get the cart of a friend. He went out, and we all had prayer together. After a time the cart came, and we started for Pe kin. We did not meet any Boxers, but saw them in the distance. We went to one of the church member's homes, onl> to find it in ruins, then to a place we owned, but had rented. Our ten ants not only would not take us in, but refused to pay us money they owed us. We drove from street to street. At last I saw my husband was nearly desperate, and I whispered to him, God has let us come all this road and we have not met Boxers; we must not seek death; perhaps He means us to live.” The carter then got to talking with some people and learned that the Methodist Episcopal mission had not been attacked, so with great joy we made our way across the city and were received with open arms. The children jumped up and down in the cart and said: “It is almost as nice as getting to heaven.” It did seem so to us after the auxious hours. During the siege our dear little girl died, and heaven seems very near to us now.— The Congregationalist. LONGEVITY IN FROZEN FISH. After Eleveu Years This One AVas Thawed Out. and Sli© Started a Hatchery. I have read with a great deal of in terest an article headed “Life in Froz en Fish.” While it does not seem credible that fish can be frozen until they are as hard as a stone and upon being placed in cold water for a few moments only become as lively as ever, it is nevertheless true. In 1873 I was residing at Junction City, a pretty little city located in a romantic spot on the banks of Mill creek in central Wisconsin. The coun try at that time was new and fish and game were plentiful. Mill creek was at the time famous as a trout stream, it being no trouble at all to catch 50 pounds of speckled trout in a half day’s fishing. Feb. 15, 1873 —I remem ber the date because it was my twenty first birthday—l took down my rifle and struck out into the forest for the purpose of killing a deer. I had wan dered along the banks of the stream for a distance of perhaps two miles when I ran into an old hunter who had cut a hole in the ice, through which he was fishing for trout. He xvas meet ing with great success, for scattered all around him could be seen the speckled beauties, where ne had thrown them as he took them off his hook. I was in vited to help myself, which invitation I cheerfully accepted and I proceeded to put a number of the fish in my game bag. It was just 4.47 o’clock when I re turned home that afternoon, tired and hungry, and after hanging up my rifle took one of the largest of the trout and placed it out in a large cold-stor age warehouse that stood near my house, intending to present it to “Uncle” Satfi Carson for his breakfast the next morning. The fish was for gotten and as a result lay in that ware house solidly frozen until June 10, 18S4. Now, here is tne strange part of my story, which I should hesitate to relate had not the article referred to paved the way, as it were. On the night of the date last men tioned, just about 11 years aider this fish had been placed in the cold stor age, the building was totally destroyed by fire. During the process of the fire the fire department, in the effort to save the property, had thrown suffi cient water to fill up the cellar, which, by the way, was walled up in rock and cement, and was, therefore, xvater tight. Three years later it was de cided to rebuild the cold-storage ware house and men set to work pumping the water out of the cellar, which the rains had kept well filled. To our amazement, 447 fair-sized speckled trout were taken out, besides the old one, which had evidently fallen into the cellar at the time the warehouse was destroyed, thawed out and spawned. The original trout was easily identified, one of its eyes having been accidentally knocked out and a part of its tail broken off before it was placed in the warehouse. Any one doubting the truthfulness of this story can easily be satisfied by writing to Frank Blood or Arthur Sturtevant f Steveus Point, Wis., or to Eugene Sheppard of Rhinelander, Wis. —George E. Oster, in Chicago Inter Ocean. Life Aboard an Arctic Boat. “The days and weeks pass without ;our taking any account of them. We get up at 6.30 in the morning. At 7 we feed the dogs. At Bwe have break fast, and at 12 we dine. Then we work till 6.30, when we have supper, after which we smoke and play cards or chess till bedtime. It is not at all cold. Rarely does the thermometer descend below zero. Yesterday the sun shone gloriously. The ice reflected it with a blinding glare and Iu bril liant colors. The ship has withstood all the assaults of the ice. It is splen did to see how it breaks up ice that is sometimes three or four feet thick. At other times, when it is even thicker, the ship is rpshed against it at full steam. The shock splits and breaks it very often for a distance of 40 or 50 yards. The Duke of Abruzzi is always on the bridge, and loses no opportuni ty of getting ahead. Sometimes he does not even come down to his meals. Whenever we get the smallest open ing he orders us to go on and we are glad of it, because the more we ad vance at the present! time the less we shall have to do next year.”—Leslie’s Popular Monthly. On the Kneiuy’ Fire, of Course. “I think the enemy has got our range, captain,” said the officer of the day. “How in the world are we to cook our dinner?” replied the captain, ab sent-mindedly.—What to Eat. THE WEEKLY NEWS. CARTERSYILLE, GA Start The New Century Right! Don’t try to get along with those old fashioned, out of date farm implements. What’s the use, when our prices on up-to-date implements are so low ? EVERY TEST-^ for quality and durability, has been given the machinery which we sell and recommend, “Tried and true” makes are the only ones good enough for our customeis. WE ARE PROUD ■* n—M. i of our new spring line of STYLISH BIGS OLD VETS INSTALLED Georgia Soldiers’ Home Opened With Befitting Ceremonies. AMIDST MUSIC AND ORATORY Great Throng Gathered to Witness the Exercises—Twenty-Four of the Old Heroes Are Al ready Cosily Ensconced. The Confederate Soldiers' Home at Atlanta was opened with impressive ceremonies Monday morning, and when the shades of night fell, the re treat sheltered twenty-four as brave and loyal hearts as ever responded to the bugle’s call to charge. There be neath the shade of trees which soften the sun’s rays upon their spacious home, surrounded by their friends and comrades in arms of other days—those who have worked with untiring energy to see the home a reality—they sat down to rest with peace and comfort to crown the last of their valorous days. Despite the rain and continued threatening weather hundreds of vet erans. wives and sons and daughters and grandchildren of veterans gath ered at the soldiers’ home to witness the exercises which would formally dedicate it to the noble cause for which it was designed thirteen years ago. when it was still only an idea, but an idea with a purpose behind it. Vis itors and veterans gathered upon and around the north piazza, which served as a speaker’s stand, and listened to words of eloquent eulogium and touch ing pathos evoked by memories which can never die. To the left of the speakers’ table at one end of the piazza was stationed the Fifth Regiment band, which pro vided spirited music, and next to the band were the old soldiers who had gathered to their new home, and to the occasion, though the tide of youth had long since ebbed, they brought still the spirit to applaud the sentiment of the orators and to give a ringing cheer for “Dixie.” To'the right of the speak ers' table sat the trustees of the home and many ladies, members of the Daughters of the Confederacy and oth er patriotic societies. Under the trees before the piazza stood many to whom the exercises were of deep signifi cance —the veteran whose floodgates of memory were opened, the youth who esteems the heritage of valor and of youth that is his. There with bared heads, all heard the exercises through, and not a few handkerchiefs sought eyes when Pres ident W. L. Calhoun, closing the day, in voice marked with deep emotion, said: “This is the proudest day of my life, when I can welcome these, my com rades. to their home. I now formally declare the doors of the Confederate Soldiers’ Home opened.” Twenty-four of the forty-four veter ans already positively admitted to the home arrived there during the day and were assigned to their rooms. White hairs and crutches were in evi dence. The first of the inmates to ar rive was Curran Becton, from Jeffer son county, who served in the First Battalion, Georgia sharpshooters. The home was well prepared to re ceive all the old veterans who gather ed there and could have taken care of many more. Thirty of the sixty sleep ing rooms, each accommodating two persons, have been substantially and neatly furnished, and are ready for occupancy. ACTOR SLAYS ACTRESS. Bloody Tragedy Enacted In Parlor of a Chicago Hotel. Monday night, in the parlor of the Vernon Hotel, in Chicago, Edward For shay. of Kansas City, an actor and assistant manager of theatrical com panies, shot and killed Miss Edna Stokes, an actress, whose home is at Sedalia, Mo., with whom he was deep ly in love. After killing the woman Forshay ran, but was arrested. When taken to the police station he said that he in tended to kill himself, as he could not live w r ithout Miss Stokes’s love, but that his nerve failed him at the last minute., ORDER WAS INEFFECTUAL. Strikers Seem to Have Totally Disre garded Southern’s Ultimatum. Vice President Gannon, of the South ern railway. Monday said that so far as the road was concerned the strike incident was closed. He refused to say how many of the machinists nad returned to work at the regular hour Monday morning in accordance with the irltimatum given them at all the shops, but said that the road was fill ing the places of all those who had failed to resume work. Electric Bolt Kills Father and Son. J. H. Gallup and his son Ralph, re cently from Grand Ridge, 111., were killed by a bolt of lightning while they were standing by an open window at their home in Welch, La. Texas i-ioneer Dead at Eighty. Guy M. Bryan, aged eighty years, president of the Texas Veterans’ Asso ciation, and in his prime one of the best known men in Texas, died at Aus tin Tuesday of paralysis. Wlllll EffisV mucous patches in the mouth, erup- Hair fasts colored splotches, /hggfi swollen glands, aching muscles 'lf 111 bones, the disease is making rapid headway, and far worse symptoms will follow unless the Mood is promptly and effectually cleansed of this violent destructive poison. S. S. S. is the oidy safe and infallible cure for this disease, the only antidote for this specific poison. It cures the worst cases thoroughly and permanently. My Condition Could I contracted B 1 ooi] Have Seen No Worse. three doctors, but t h e i r treatment did me no good ; I was getting worse all the time ; my hair came out, ulcers appeared in mv throat and mouth, my body was almost covered with copper colored splotches and offensive sores. I suffered severely from rheumatic pains in my shoulders and arms. My condition could have been no worse ; only those afflicted as I was can understand my sufferings. I had about lost all hope of ever being well again when X decided to try S. S. S., but must confess I had AtKahflaWii little faith left in any gWEWljjrojjK medicine. After taking the third bottle I noticed ?j§a a change in mv condi lion. This was truly en couraging, and I deter- W y mined to give S. S. S. a \ thorough trial. From A that time on the improve- aT v iSS?* ment was rapid ;S.S. S. ; /A’W . seemed to h. ve the dis- Yjr ease completely under ■ * jjrsSaSSrJw control ; the sores and ulcers healed and I was jSSsSssS j I soon free from all signs7r”PS| , • N' Vj of the disorder; I have <■ 1 J been strong and healthy ever since. 1,. W. Smith, Uock Box 611, Noblesville, Ind, is tlie only purely vege fsT** table blood purifier Ejg K K/jgw offered for proof that it contains a particle of mercury, potash or other mineral poison. Send for our free lx>ok on Blood Poison, it contains valuable information about this disease, with full directions for seif treatment, ‘ We charge nothing for medi cal advice ; cure yourself at home. THE SWIFT SPECIFIC CO., ATLANTA, GA. PENSION ROLL INCREASES. Veterans of Spanish American War Makes Beneficiary List Stretch Out. Uncle Sam’s pension roli is still on the boom. The fiscal year ends June 30th, and already 43,399 new names have been placed on the roll for the eleven months, with prospects of sev eral thousand more during this month. Last year 45,344 names were added, but the increase this year is expected to be larger. The Spanish-Ameriean war pensions thus far include 3,525 names. Claims filed for service in the war with Spain thus far number 43,874. OUR ADVERTISING RATES ARE EXTREMELY LOW, AND ARE A GREAT INDUCEMENT FOR BUSINESS MEN TO PAT RONIZE OUR COLUMNS. TRY US. ON HER ACCOUNT. On her account they left the laft. Where rich papa's soap factories stand. And, ’mid the Old World’s classic show. Where rank is high, if funds are low. She fought the fight mamma had planned. At that strategic dame’s command She led her trumps for court cards, and At length kind Fortune did bestow On her a Count. And so she’s titled, great, and grand; Mamma is proud; the Count is bland; All three ure pleased, but this we know: Most pleased are those he chanced to owe, For now he draws with lavish hand On her account. —Joe Lincoln, in the Century. HUMOROUS Blobbs —I told her she was a bird. Slobbs—What did she say? Blobbs— Wanted me to fly with her. Nell—When they came back from their wedding trip he had $2.89 in his pocket. Belle —He always was close! Slllicus —I like to think that life is all music. Cynicus—lt is. It is made up of people who are either sharps or fiats. “What shall I make the backstop out of?” asked the carpenter, who was fixing up the baseball grounds. “Why, pitch pine, of course,” replied the manager. “So your mother-in-law died on the steamer on the way over, eh? What was the disposition of the remains?” “Unusually quiet and peaceful,” re plied Henpeck. Wigg—l thought Miss Farland wrote fiction. Wagg—So she does. Wigg— But she's the author of a cook book. Wagg—Well, I guess there's a good deal of fiction in that. Muggins—Where’s your burglar alarm? Did you have it taken out? Buggins—lt went off one night and never came back. A thief broke into the house and stole it. “Have you been through calculus?” inquired the college professor. “Not unless I passed through at night on my way here,” replied the new stu dent; “I’m from Kansas, you know.” Clerk —Anything else, sir? Can’t I sell you a nice umbrella? Customer — No. Everybody steals my umbrellas. Clerk—Oh, but these we sell are so poor nobody would think of stealing them. Hoax —I hear your friend Kaufman went out to Colorado for his health. Joax —Yes; and he’s located there per manently now. That so? What’s his position? Horizontal, and about six feet deep. She was rather plain, but wealthy He had proposed and requested a kiss. “O!” she giggled, girlishly; “I don’t like to kiss a man with a mustache.” “Nonsense,” he replied; “I don’t mind. Your mustache isn’t very heavy, really.” The editor of the woman’s page was looking over his proofs. “Where is that pudding recipe?” he howled. The office goat gulped down the fag end of a galley slip. “Ba-a-a-a!” he re marked, which, being interpreted, means: “The proof of the pudding is in the eating.” Found Fault with His Cavalry. “Gentlemen,” said Frederick the Great. “I am entirely dissatisfied with the cavalry; the regiments are com pletely out of hand; there is no accu racy, no order; the men ride like tail ors. I beg that this may not occur again, and that each of you will pay more attention to his duty. But I know how things go on. You think I am not up to your (lodges, but I know them all and will recapitulate them. When the season for riding drill comes on, the captain sends for the sergeant major and says, ‘I have an appoint ment this morning at , tell the first lieutenant to take the rides.’ So the sergeant-major goes to the senior subaltern and gives him the message, and the latter says, ‘What! the cap tain will be away? Then I’m off hunt ing; tell the second lieutenant to take the men.’ And the second lieutenant, who is probably still in bed. says. ‘What, both of them away? Then I will stay where 1 am. I was up till 3 this morning at a dance; tell the cor net I am ill and he must take the rides.’ Finally the cornet remarks, ‘Look here, sergeant-major, what is the good of my standing out there in the cold? You know all about it much better than I do, you go and take them; and so it goes, and what must be the end of it all? What can I hope to do with such cavalry before the ene my?”—From “A History of Frederick the Great.” Whj He Wt Tardy, Not long since a little chap who at- Walnut Hills, arrived about half an tended the Windsor street school on hour late. He was not only tardy, but brought with him a very dirty face. “Willie,” said the teacher, “why are you late, and why didn’t you have your face washed before you left home?” “Please, mam.” said Willie, “my grandmother went skating last night and was too tired to get up this morn ing to get me ready for school.” The teacher, of course, did not think that Willie had told the truth. She investigated, however, and found that Willie was a truthful lad. His parents were dead and he made his home with his grandmother. The old lady had joined a skating party the night before. She enjoyed the sport and got along very well while on the ice. having been an expert skater in her younger days. When she awoke next morning and attempted to get out of bed she found her benes “cracking like a horse fiddle,” to use the lad’s own words, and it took the services of three neighbors to pry her out c! bed. —Cincinnati Enquirer.