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HOT BLOOD IN CAMP. ARMY QUARRELS THAT ALMOST END- ED IN TRAGEDIES. The Story oX * Captain Who Had Marder In Ki* Heart—A Fiery Ueotenaat Colo nel Who Wanted to Kill Hl* Superior Officer—A PwecrmafrinK Adjutant. “Tragedies in our own camps, out side of battles, were more common than the public knows, ” said a distinguished soldier. ■ “The shooting of Major General Nel son- at Louisville by Brigadier General Jeff O. Davis because Nelson in a fit of anger had called Davis a long, string of hard names, is one of the few that came to the surface. You wouldn’t think it probably, but I myself was once so close to a tragedy that it makes my gray hair rise upas I recall it \ “While a number of officers of the regiment were in the major’s tent I-said something that a captain took excep tions to, and a war of words followed. When hepttnapedout, ‘You are a liar!’ 1 stntok but with my right and set him io bleeding. He came back at me like a tiger cat We clinched and for three or four minutes had it hot and sharp; then the others separated us. He made all sorts of threats. I was adjutant. He ranked me, and I confess that for a time I did fear he would make me trouble in the way of court martial, but the mat- , ter seemed to blow over. “One fall afternoon the captain invit ed me to take a walk with him. Think ing that our troubles had completely healed, I consented. On the way back to camp we passed through an orchard. I climbed a tree to get some apples. Just as X reached for an apple I saw the captain reach for his revolver and glare at me like a very fiend. Instantly I loos ened my hold and dropped to the ground. Seizing a stake, I took my place by his side and said, ‘Now, you cowardly dog, put up that gun or I’ll brain yon. ’ This time he was kept on a hot griddle for a month, though I made no threats and had no thought of reporting his attempt to assassinate me. “The next fight we got into we made up for good and all and remained fast friends until the final round up, when General Joe Johnston had his men throw down their guns and go'home to ’make a crox. ’ It happened in this way: The colonel had given the order to form line of battle. As adjutant it was my duty to see that each captain carried out the order. When I reached the would be assassin and had performed my duty and started to go away, he called out, ‘Adjutant, come back.’ When I complied, he took my hand, looked me squarely in the eye and said: ‘Lieutenant, can you forgive me for all of my meanness to you? I hope so. I have never had a good hour since that incident in the orchard. ’ “ ‘With all my heart, captain. No one but you and myself knows anything about that little affair. ’ “As I said, nothing else came up to separate us while in the army. We never met after being mustered out He died three years ago. Os course I could have sent him out of the army in dis grace and placed him in the peniten tiary after he was out, but I’ve always been glad I did not He was a good sol dier in battle, as brave as they made them, but a bulldog in camp. He left the army a major. His name? Never mind that It is a true story. I wish it were not for I cannot forget that at one time in my life I was in a fairway to be murdered.” “Report to your headquarters under arrest, sir.” The colonel of a western regiment hissed that remark to his lieutenant colonel as he dismissed the parade one evening in December, 1864, a few miles back of Petersburg. “I refuse to go, d you, ’’ was the reply. - ‘ ‘ Adjutant see that Lieutenant Colo nel Blank goes to his quarters at once,” said the angry colonel, who was in the right for the lieutenant colonel, who had been drinking, had disobeyed or ders. ' . The adjutant knew both officers well, and that it would not do for them to come 'together that night. He had a merry time of it keeping them apart. The lieutenant colonel would jump up and start for 'the cabin door with a threat to go to the colonel's quarters and cut him down with his sword. He was a powerful man, able to cany out his threat unless the colonel should get the drop. Once the arrested officer get away and was half way to the colonel's cabin, with sword drawn. “Stop, man,” said the adjutant. “Would you blot your record of three years by com mitting murder? Think of that Think of your wife and children. Cpme back tq your quarters. You Shall not go a step farther in that direction until you ' have killed me. ” ' “I don’t want to kill you, but I’m going to kill the colonel. ” “All right, kill him, but wait until tomorrow—until it is light Don’t shoot a man in the dark. That is no way for a brave man to do.” He went back to his bunk and slept until morning. When he awoke, he came to me and said: “How can I get out of this scrape, adjutant?” “Write the colonel an apology. ” He wrote it, and the adjutant took It to the colonel, who read it, laughed and said, “Bring Colonel Blank to my quar ters.” They met like a pair of brothers, and to this day the adjutant believes that he prevented an army tragedy, and I guess he did.—Chicago Times-Herald. Sate Guardian. “Do you like candy, mamma?” asked 4-year-old Bessie. “No, dear,” was the reply. “It al ways makes me sick. ” “I’m awful glad of it, ” said the lit tle misa. “You’re just the woman I want to hold my candy while I dress dolly. ’’—Chicago News. THE FARMER WON, Bat Schaefer Con»lder» It the Shorteel Game of Hl* Life. ' “Some years ago,” saida sporting man, “when Scnaefer kept a Billiard room in this city, lie was always ready to play all comers who desired a game. Many strangers and people unknown to Schaefer naturally strolled in; many, too* who probably did not know him. But it made no difference to Schaefer. Sometimes strangers would desire to play for money, but this Schaefer would never da To all such propositions he would say: ‘No, I won’t play for mon ey,' but I’ll tell you what I will do—l will play a game, the loser to treat the house. ’ “One day an old farmer entered the place, and after wandering about look ing at the pictures on the walls and ex amining the tables he asked if there was any one present who would like to play him a game of billiards. Schaefer, as usual, said that he would play the, much shall wo play for?’ ask ed the farmer. “‘I never play for money,’ replied Schaefer, ‘but I will play you for the drinks for the house. ’ “All right, ’ said the farmer. ‘ How many points shall we play?’ “ ‘Oh,’ replied Schaefer demurely in all the consciousness of his superior powers, ‘we’ll just play until you are satisfied, and we will call that a game. ’ “The crowd smiled as the players prepared for the contest. The balls were , placed on the table, and Schaefer brought out his favorite cue, and it fell to his lot to open the game. “The opening shot in a billiard game is a somewhat difficult one, as most players knbw, and Schaefer, probably through indifference, missed it. He not only missed it, but left the balls close together near one of the cushions. It was what is termed in billiard parlance a ‘set up.’ “The old farmer carefully chalked his cue, and after deliberation made the shot. He then gazed at the balls a mo ment, laid down his cue and exclaimed: “‘I am satisfied. ’ “The score was then 1 to 0 in favor of the old farmer, but as Schaefer had agreed to make the game as long or short as the farmer desired he had to be satisfied. Schaefer of course had to in vite all present, including his conqueror, to partake of the hospitality of the house. As the crowd laughed and drank Schaefer remarked that the game was the shortest he had ever played, and probably the shortest on record. ’ ’ —New York Tribune. LOVED LIFE TOO WELL. Ancient Natchez Indian Who Rebelled Against Being: Sacrificed. One of the repulsive features of the laws under which the Natchez Indians were governed was that when a mem ber of the royal family of the nation died it was necessary that several others of the people should accompany him to the tomb by suffering death at the hands of executioners. When the “great sun,” the hereditary chief of the whole nation, died, all his wives, in case he were provided with more than one, and also several of his sub jects, were obliged to follow him into the vale of shadows. The “little suns,” secondary fhiefs, and also members of the royal family, likewise claimed, when dying, their tribute of death from the living. In addition to this, the in exorable law also condemned to death any man of the Natchez race who had married a girl of the royal line of the “suns.” On the occasion of her death he was called upon to accompany her. “I will narrate to you upon this sub ject,” writes an old French chronicler of Louisiana, “the story of an Indian who w’s not in a hfimor to submit to this law.' His name was EtteacteaL He had contracted an alliance with the ‘suns.’ The honor came near having a fatal result for him.. His wife fell sick, and as soon as he perceived that she was approaching her end he took to flight, embarking in a pirogue on the Mississippi, and sought a refuge in New Orleans.. He placed himself under the protection of the governor, who was at that time M. de Bienville, offering him self to be the governor’s hunter. The governor accepted his services, and in terested himself in his behalf with the Natchez, who declared, in answer, that he had nothihg to fear, inasmuch as the ceremony was over, and as he had not been present when it took place he was no longer available as a candidate for execution.”—New Orleans Picayune. Flower Painten. About the last literary work complet ed by the late Cora Stuart Wheeler was a beautiful tribute to “Some Court Painters to Queen Rose” published in The Woman’s .‘Home Companion, in which she says: “As a rule, women make the best flower painters. The men who excel in this branch of art are Comparatively few, even when we consider the small number of artists of both sexes who have acquired reputation in the pictur ing of flowers. The reason is not diffi cult to see. The average woman has a fondness for flowers which brings her into the closest sympathy with them and enables her to appreciate and un derstand them as men seldom, do. In the interpretation of certain subtle phases of floral life her sensitive tem perament and the peculiarly sympathetic feeling that she is apt to bring to her labor of love especially qualify her for engaging in this department of picture making. In point of technical ability some marvelously clever work has been done by artists of the gentler sex in the reproduction of flowers and in the treatment»of difficult subjects. ” A Bad Beginning.. The Guest (an art connoisseur) —Su- perb! Simply elegant! Hostess—l’m glad you like it. Soups are my hobby. The Guest—Oh, I meant the tureen. —Jewelers’ Weekly. .. ' - -♦ -♦ ... -•' —-■ ** T’l-i . ' »■ “ W ■ THE LIFE OF A MANDARIN. It la Rather Slow and Mon .ton one So ’ Western Notion*. Most mandarins, says a writer in The CornhiU Magazine, pass the whole of ( their lives witliout taking a shiglq yard of , exorcUf. The late Nankin viceroy, fa ther bf the Marquis Tseng, was considered a remarkable character because he always ' walked “a thousand steps a day” in his ■ private garden. Under no circumstances whatever is a mandarin ever seen on foot : in his own jurisdiction. Occasionally a popular judge will try to earn a reputa tion by going out incognito at night, but even then he takes a strong guard with him and, as happened when I was at Can ton, gets his head broken if ho attempts to pry too closely into abuses. As the police and the thieves are usually copartners In one concern, it naturally follows that cau tion must bo fused in attacking gaming houses which have bribed themselves into quasi legality. z A mandarin's leisure, which may be said to begin at 6 p. m. and continue un til 9, Is spent in ene or other of the follow ing ways: Either ho reads poetry by him self or he sends for his secretaries to drink wino, crack melon seeds and compose poetry with him, or he may shoot off * few arrows at a target in his garden, or— and this Is commonest—he may Invite the rich merchants to a “feed” in his yamens or accept invitations from them. But this is rather dangerous work, for there is a sort of unwritten law against mandarins leaving their own yamens except on offi cial business bent. On the other hand, merchants of high standing steer clear of the local mandarin unless, as happened when I was at Kewkiang, he happens to boa compatriot of theirs. ' On his grandmother’s, mother’s and wife’s birthdays the mandar; a receives con gratulations and presents—of course on his own too. On these festive occasions ho may give a play. In China theatrical en tertainments are commonly hired private ly, though as . often as not the “man in the street” is admitted gratis. But even here caution is required, for many days in the year are n'efasti, on account of emper ors having died on those anniversaries, and it goes very hard with a mandarin if ho is caught “having music” on a dies non. Chinese—always supposing they are not opium smokers, invalids or debauchees— retire to rest as early as they rise. In rnpst Chinese towns everything is quiet after sunset, and by 7 or 8 o’clock every one is either in bed or is simply crooning away the time until sleep comes on. Notwith standing the recent introduction of kero sene Ihmps (forbidden in many large towns), .the usual light is tho common dip or tho rush. Dinners and feasts cannot take place ev eryday, so what happens on nine evenings out of ten is this: When tho correspond ence <jf tho day has been read, drafted, achieved, sealed or dispatched, when tho secretaries have struck their balances and exhibited the profits of tho day, when the business of the judgment seat is at an end, the mandarin gets out of his robes, hat, collar, boots, chaplet and feathers into an easy costume in which he looks just like the ordinary frouzy, greasy tradesman, lights his pipe and retires to the harem. After performing the proper obeisances to his grandmother or mother, he may take a platonic cup of tea or gruel with his wife, after which ho selects the apartment of one of his concubines. Ho will even take his evening meal in her room, smoke a few pipes with her—-for all woiflen smoko in China—and perhaps playa game or two at cards. The Literature of Japan. There seem to bo three ideas which per vade all general works on Japan—apology for the past, wonder at the present and a glorious prediction for the future. To the .western world .Japan’s past is but little known, her present is reflected in the newspapers and periodicals of tho day, her future may in part be read between the lines of the present. Volumes have been written about Japan, yet so far no comprehensive history of tho people, their literature and, arts, has ap peared in the English language. Japan is a most interesting and valuable field for some Grote or Motley of the day. Tho difficulty of translation from Japa nese is great. In the first place, the lan guage is an agglutinative one and conse quently hard for a westerner to acquire. The poetry is one of form and does not possess, except in tho drama, remarkably deep thought or feeling. There are besides many plays upon words which cannot be transferred into a foreign tongue. The best prose tales and chronicles, which be long to the oldest or classical literature, are written in a dialect differing as widely from tho Japanese now spoken as the lan guage of Homer differs from tho Romaic of today. It is not making too bold an assertion, therefore, to say that the available trans lations fall far short of the merits of the originals, so much so that the western reader is apt to underestimate the true value of this literature.—Lippincott’s. Naval Code Signals. “Somenewspapers,” says a naval officer quoted by the Philadelphia Record, “have published pictures of a string of flags' pur porting to signify in the international sig nal code ‘Remember the Maine!’ This is not right, as it is impossible to secure the official signal letters of the lost warship Maine or any other war vessel of the Unit ed States navy because the government refuses to divulge such information. The Maritime Exchange telegraphed to Wash ington for the Maine’s letters last week for use in a flag display and received a very prompt refusal. All code books car ried on warships have leaden backs to make them sink if lost overboard. The letters in the book, moreover, are printed with a peculiar ink, which fades away when it comes in contact with the water. To make things still more safe the letters are changed every few months by the navy department. Even on the warships few officers know their vessel’s official signal code. ’ ’ , Colon Didn’t Match. A woman told a story the other day of those bygone times when everything in a woman’s costume must match, “especially in children’s clothes,” said the woman. “Sash, stockings, neck ribbon, hair ribbon —all were required to be of not only the same color, but the same shade. I was very particular in this respect, and my lit tle daughter was naturally imbued with tho same faith. One day when we were visiting in the country a shower came up which, clearing away as suddenly as it had come, left a beautiful rainbow behind it. ‘Come quick,’ I cried to my little daughter, ‘and see the nunbow!’ Now, it happened that the child had never seen a rainbow before. ‘Dear me!’ she cried at tho first glance. ‘Violet, indigo, blue, green, ygUow, orange and ted! ' What hor rid ’taste’ Why, nothing matches!’”— Philadelphia £rtss. . ... . - * j LIFE IN CANTON. The People and th® CuetenM or a tiwenii Chinese City. "h. ... There arc Europeans at Canton, but they live in a settlement outside the native city. Their influence, like their place of abode, is merely upon the out ermost edge of the community. On ideals of civilization have not touched the people. They are today as they have been for centuries .jiast They sneer at our institutions and consider themselves in every way superior to the white “barbarian. ” Casual visitors to the crowded city visit tho various points of interest by means of sedan chairs. They are accompanied by a native guide, who conscientiously goeithrough a long catalogue of things, wonderful or horrible, in English, which is fluent ly spoken but imper qptly understood by those to whom it is addressed. Tho guide .is very attdntit > to those in his care, very polite in Lis manners, and often possessed of u fair amount of hu mor. The streets cf tho city are of a pattern of immemorial antiquity. None is more than ten feet wide. The houses lean in ward from tho base and almost meet overhead, shutting out all but the nar rowest strip of daylight. Signboards are hung perpendicularly outside every house. They are elaborately carved and gayly decorated with abundance of gold leaf and scarlet or black lacquer. The mystic looking symbols inform the curi ous that one particular shop is “ Prosper ed by Heaven,” another has “Never Ending Good Luck,” while yet another is “The Market of Golden Profit*”—tho said profits, be it known, goingnnto the pocket of the dealer. Among the most interesting sights of this unchangeable city are the pawn shops. They are often great, square, solid granite structures, which look more like old border keeps than the residences of accommodating “uncles. ” The pawnshop fulfills a double pur pose. It advances money at an interest varying from 20 to 36 per cent, and it stores in safety within its massivo walls those articles of finery * and adornment which are only required at special times and seasons. On the fiat roofs of these citadels are piles of stones and jars of vitriol, ready to repel any attack that may be made by thieves, whose methods of plunder are less refined than those of the pawnbrokers. In the jade stone market we meet with the Chinese parallel to the western diamond. The best stones are very val uable and are brought from Turkestan, the only place in the world where mines of this stone are worked. Every well to do Chinaman wears a ring, brooch or bracelet of jade, and the poor, who are unable to purchase the real article, wear ornaments of glass, which are colored in imitation of the more expensive jade. Shaggy dogs with coal black tongues are disposed of in another market. Fried rat and boiled frog, not to mention fricas seed puppy, tempt the hungry into the native restaurant The local “medicine man, ” adhering to the prescriptions of his ancestors, makes pills and potions, of which the chief ingredients are wax, deers’ horns, petrified bones, petrified crabs, snakes, scales of the armadillo, tigers’ bones and lime. When the medi cines do not cure, they kill, and whether the patient lives or dies he does so knowing that at any rate no hated for eigner has had anything to do with the strength or quality of his medical diet —European Magazine, London. SHEATHING A SHIP. Composition Metal Now Largely Used. Work Quickly and Handsomely Done. Yachts built of wood aro sheathed with copper, and so are many tugboats. Merchapt ships are sometimes sheathdd with copper, but nowadays the material most commonly used is a composition metal which in appearance resembles brass. It does not wear so long as cop per, but it costs less. The composition metal comes in sheets about 3 feet by 1 foot 4 inches. They are fastened on the ship with nails of the same material Sometimes the sheathing is nailed di rectly on to the hull of the ship. Some times it is nailed over another sheathing of felt, which helps to preservo the calking in the seams. When the ship has been placed in a drydock or raised out of water on a floating dock, the old metal is stripped off, and if she is to have a felt sheath ing the bottom of the ship is first paint ed with a coat of pitch, and the sheets of felt are laid upon that, and then the sheets of metal are nailed on over them. The work is done very rapidly and at the same time with great nicety. Every nail head is sunk so that it is flush with tho plate. If the hand were passed over the sheathing anywhere, it would be found smooth. If the nail heads were permitted to project, they would of course interfere with the speed Os tho vessel. Seventy-five men can sheathe an 1,800 ton ship in two days. The cost of sheathing such a ship with composition metal over felt, including material, dock changes, labor and everything; would be about >4,000, or a little less, and such a sheathing would last about two long voyages.—New York Sun. • Her Face on the Platea. A new industry, first put forward un der the patronage of Mrs. John Jacob Astor, has blossomed forth. This rich young woman, one of the most promi nent and beautiful of New York’s fash ionable matrons, has had her own face painted with most exquisite art on six very choice Sevres plates that are only used for her smallest and most select luncheon parties. The plates show Mrs. Astor in evening dress, tailor dress, re ception gown, skating furs, in a delicate summer muslin and in her bridal gown. The table of measures says that three barleycorns make one inch, and so they do. When tho standards of measures were first established, three barleycorns, well dried, were taken and laid end to end. three being undersiood to make an inch in length g—ii— J'O®. I I -MS ' ■ ■ w '-radii v/i eIN LmslZs I i EIK To MOTHERS. WE ARE ASSERTING IN THE COURTS OUR RIGHT TO THE EXCLUSIVE USE OF THE WORD “CASTORIA,” AND “PITCHER’S CASTOBLA,” AS OUR TRADE MARK. Z, DR. SAMUEL PITCHER, of Hyannis, Massachusetts, 908 ths originator of “PITCHER’S CASTORIA,” the same that has borne and does now hear the facsimile signature of wrapper. This is the original “ PITCHER'S CASTORIA, ’ which has been used in the homes of the Mothers of America for over thirty • years, LOOK CAREFULLY at the wrapper and see that it is the kind you have always bought on and has the signature of wrap- per. No one has authority from me to use my name ex cept The Centaur Company of which Chas. H. Fletcher is '? Attßdrat n a j Manh 8,1897. ' MM*—**'* Do Not Be Deceived. Do not endanger the life of yotir child by accepting a cheap .substitute which some druggk.i ::.; y offer yo (because he makes a few more pennies c i it), the in- , gradients of which even he docs not know. “The Kind You Have Always Bought’’ BEARS THE FAC-SIMILE .C.C-fiATURE CF ,Xy ‘ -i ■ Insist on Having ■ The Kind That Never Failed lou. VMS ©RMTAUR OMRMIV* TT aBURRAV •TH ROT. 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