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Sylvania m r r Oh X o z w
VOL XXVII.
e – Cbe * –
Million Dollar
freight Crain
By FRANK H. SPEARMAN
Copyright, 1900. by Frank H. Speumnn
T was the sec
■ ond month of
£ the strike and
not a pound of
m freight had
been moved.
m Things looked
.c Hi m smoky on the
t West The End. general
superintendent happened to be with
us when the news came.
“You can’t handle It, boys,” said he
nervously. “What you'd better do Is
to turn C over to the Columbian Pa
Our contracting freight agent on the
coast at that time was a fellow so er
ratio that he was nicknamed Crazy
horse. Right in the midst of the strike
Crazyhorse wired that he had secured
a big slik shipment for New York. We
were paralyzed.
We had no engineers, no firemen and
no motive power to speak of. The
strikers were pounding our men,
wrecking our trains and giving us the
worst of it generally—that Is, when
we couldn’t give It to them. Why the
fellow displayed his activity at that
particular Juncture still remains a
mystery. Perhaps he had a grudge
against the road. If so, he took an
artful revenge. Everybody on the sys
tem with ordinary railroad sense knew
that our struggle was to keep clear of
freight business until we got rid of
our strike. Anything valuable or per
ishable was especially unwelcome.
But the stuff was docked and loaded
and consigned in our care before we
knew it. After that a refusal to carry
It would be like hoisting the white
flag, and that Is something which
never yet flew on the West End.
“Turn it over to the Colombian,”
said tlie general superintend/ „
the general superintendent) “ r e,c
looked up to ou our dlv , He
hadn’t enough sand. Our L _ was a
fighter, and he gave tone to every roan
under him.
hts “No.” he “not thunder^ in thousand bringing years! down
fist, a
We’ll move It ourselves. Wire Mont
gomery, the general manager, that we
will take care of It. And wire him to
fire Crazyhorse—and to do it right off.”
And before the silk was turned over
to us Crazyhorse was looking for an
other job. It is the only case on rec
ord where a freight hustler was dis
charged for getting business.
There were twelve car loads. It
was insured for $85,000 a car. You can
figure how far the title is wrong, but
you can never estimate the worry that
stuff gave us. It looked as big as
$12,000,000 worth. In fact, one scrub
car tink, with the glory of the West
End nt heart, had a fight over the
amount with n skeptical hostler. He
maintained that the actual money
value was a hundred and twenty mil
lions, hut I gave you the figures just
ns they went over the wire, and they
are right.
What bothered us most was that the
strikers had the tip almost as soon ns
we had It. Having friends on every
road In the country, they knew ns
much about our business as we
ourselves. The minute It was an
nounced that we should move the silk
they were after us. It was a defiance,
a last one. If we could move freight
—for we were already moving passen
gers after a fashion—the strike might
be well accounted beaten.
Stewart, the leader of the local con
tingent, together with his followers,
got after me at once.
“You don’t show much sense, Reed,"
said he. “You fellows here are break
ing your necks to get things moving,
anil when this strike's over if our boys
ask for your discharge they’ll get it.
This road can’t run without our engi
neers. We’re going to beat you. If
you dare try to move this stuff we’ll
have your scalp when It’s over. You’ll
never get your silk to Zanesville, I’ll
promise you that. And If you ditch It
and make a million dollar loss, you’ll
get let out anyway, my book.”
"I’m here to obey orders, Stewart,”
I retorted. What was the use of more?
I felt uncomfortable, but we had de
termined’to move the silk. There was
nothing more to be said.
When I went over to the roundhouse
and told Neighbor the decision he said
never a word, but he looked a great
deal. Neighbor’s task was to supply
the motive power. All that we had,
uncrippled, was In the passenger serv
ice, because passengers must be mov
ed—must be taken care of first of all.
In order to win a strike yon must
have public opinion on your side.
“Nevertheless, Neighbor,” said I,
after we had talked awhile, "we must
move the silk also.”
Neighbor studied, then he roared at
his foreman.
"Send Bartholomew Mullen here.”
He spoke with a decision that made me
thinll the business was done. I had
never happened, It is true, to hear of
Bartholomew Mullen in the depart
-*>t of motive power, but the im
prcssiuii the name gave me was of a
monstrous fellow, big as Neighbor or
eld man Sankey or Dad Hamilton.
"I’ll put Bartholomew ahead of It,”
muttered Neighbor tightly. A boy
walked Into the office.
“Mr. Garten said you wanted to see
me, sir,” said he, addressing the mas
ter mechanic.
“I do, Bartholomew," responded i
Neighbor. i
The figure in my mind’s eye shrunk
In a twinkling. Then It occurred to
me that It must he this boy’s father
who was wanted.
“You have been begging for n chance
to take out nil engine, Bartholomew,”
began Neighbor coldly. And I knew it
was on.
“Yes, sir.”
“You want to get killed, Bartholo
mew.”
Bartholomew smiled ns If tho Idea
was not altogether displeasing.
“How would you like to go pilot to
morrow for McCurdy? You to take the
44 and run ns first 78. McCurdy will
run as second 78.”
“I know I could run nn engine all
right,” ventured Bartholomew, ns If
Neighbor were the only one taking the
chances in giving him an engine. “I
know the track from here to Zanes
ville. I helped McNeff fire one week.”
“Then go home and go to bed and
be over here at 6 o’clock tomorrow
morning. And sleep sound, for it may
be your last chance."
It was plain that the master mechan
ic hated to do it. It was simply sheer
necessity.
“He’s a wiper,” mused Neighbor as
Bartholomew walked sprlngily away.
“I took him in here sweeping two years
ago. He ought to he firing now, but
the union held him back. That’s why
he hates them. Ho knows more about
nn engine now than half tho lodge.
They’d better have let him in,” said
the master mechanic grimly. “Ho may
be the means of breaking their backs
yet. If I give him an engine and lie
runs it, I’ll never take him off, union
or no union, strike no strike.”
"How old is that hoy?” I nsked.
“Eighteen, and never a kith or a kin
that I know of. Bartholomew Mullen,”
mused Neighbor as the slight figure
moved across the flat, “big name
small boy. Well, Bartholomew, you’ll
know something more by tomorrow
night nbout running an engine or n
whole lot less. That’s ns it happens.
If he gets killed, it’s your fault, Reed.”
He meant that I was calling on him
for men when* he absolutely couldn’t
produce them.
”1 heard once,” he went on, “about a
fellow named Bartholomew being mix
ed up in a massacre. But I take it he
must have been an older man than
our Bartholomew. Nor his other name
wasn’t Mullen, neither. I disremem
ber just what it was, but it wasn’t
Mullen.”
“Well, don’t say I want to get the
boy killed. Neighbor,” I protested.
“I’ve plenty to answer for. I’m here
to run trams—when there are any to
rufi.~ That’s murder enough ior tne.
You needn’t send Bartholomew out on
my account.”
“Give him a slow schedule, and I’ll
give him orders to jump early. That’s
all we can do. If the strikers don’t
ditch him, he’ll get through some
how."
It stuck in my crop—the idea of put
ting the boy on a pilot engine to take
all the dangers ahead of that partic
ular train. But I had a good deal else
to think of besides. From the minute
the silk got into the McCloud yards
wo posted double guards around.
About 12 o’clock that night we held a
council of war, which ended in our
running the train into the out freight
house. The result was that by morn
ing we had n new train made lip. It
consisted of fourteen refrigerator cars
loaded with oranges which had come
in mysteriously the night before. It
was announced that the silk would be
held for the present and the oranges
rushed through. Bright and early the
refrigerator train was run down to the
Ice houses, and twenty men were put
to work icing the oranges. At 7 o'clock
McCurdy pulled lu the local passenger
with engine 105. Our plan was to
cancel the local and run him right out
with the oranges. When he got in he
reported the 105 had sprung a tire. It
knocked our scheme into a cocked hat.
There was a lantern jawed confer
ence In the roundhouse.
“What can you do?” asked the super
intendent in desperation.
“There’s only one thing I can do.
Put Bartholomew Mullen on it with
the 44 and put McCurdy to bed for
No. 2 tonight,” responded Neighbor.
We were funning first in, first out,
but we took care to always have some
body for 1 and 2 who at least knew an
Injector from nn air pump.
It was 8 o’clock. I looked into the
locomotive stalls. The first— the only
man In sight was Bartholomew Mullen.
He was very busy polishing the 44. He
had good steam oil her, and the old tub
was wheezing ns if she had the asthma.
The 44 was old, she was homely, she
was rickety, but Bartholomew Mullen
wiped her battered nose as deferential
ly as if she had been a spiclc-span, spi
der driver, tail truck mail racer.
She wasn’t much—the 44. But In
those days Bartholomew wasn’t much,
and the 44 was Bartholomew’s.
“How is she steaming, Bartholo
mew?” I sung out. He was right in
the middle of her. Looking up, he fin
gered his waste modestly and blushed
through n dab of crude petroleum over
his eye.
“Hundred and thirty, sir. She's a ter
rible free steamer, the old 44. I’m all
ready to run her out.”
“Who's marked up to fire for you,
Bartholomew?”
Bartholomew Mullen looked nt me
fraternally.
"Neighbor couldn’t give me anybody
but a wiper,” said Bartholomew in a
sort of wouldn't-that-kill-you tone.
The unconscious arrogance of the
boy quite knocked me, so soon had
honors changed his point of view—last
night a despised wiper, .it daybrenk an
engineer, and his nose in the air at the
Idea of taking on a wiper for fireman,
and all so innocent.
“Would you object, Bartholomew,” I
suggested gently, to a train master
for fireman?”
“I don’t think so, sir.”
‘Thunk you, because I am going
SVLVANIA, SCREVEN COUNTY, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, MARCH I, 1907.
down to Zanesville this morn
self, and I thought I’d ride \i
Is it all right?” *
‘‘Oh, yes, sir, if Neighbor
care.”
I smiled. He didn’t know who
Neighbor took orders from, but he
thought evidently not from me,
“Then run her down to the oranges,
Bartholomew, and couple ou, and we’ll
order ourselves out. See?”
The 44 really looked like a baby car
riage when wo got her In front of the
refrigerators. However, after the nec
essary preliminaries we gave a very
sporty toot and pulled out. In a few
minutes we were sailing down the
valley.
For tlfty miles we bobbed along with
our cargo of leed silk as easy as old
shoes, for I need hardly explain that
we had packed the silk into the re
frigerators to confuse the strikers. The
great risk was that they would try to
ditch us.
I was watching the track as a mouse
would a cat, looking every minute for
trouble. We cleared the gpinbo cut
west of tho Beaver at a pretty good
clip In order to make the grade on the
other side. Tho bridge there is hidden
in summer by a grove of hackberries.
I had just pulled open to cool her a bit
when I noticed how high tho back
water was on each side of the track.
Suddenly I felt the fill going soft under
the drivers—felt the 44 wabble and
slew. Bartholomew shut off hard and
threw the air as I sprang to the win
dow. The peaceful little creek ahead
looked as angry ns the Platte in April
water, and the bottoms were a lake.
Somewhere up the valley there had
been a cloudburst, for overhead the
sun was bright. The Beaver was roar
ing over Its banks, and the bridge was
out. Bartholomew screamed for brakes.
It looked as if we were against It, and
hard.
A soft track to stop on, a torrent of
storm water ahead and $1,000,000
worth of silk behind, not to mention
equipment!
I yelled at Bartholomew and mo
tioned for him to jump. My con
science is clear on* that point. The
44 was stumbling along, trying, like
a drunken man, to hang to the rotten
track.
“Bartholomew!” 1 yelled. But he
was head out and looking back at his
train, while he jerked frantically at
the air lever. I understood. The air
wouldn’t work. It never will on those
old tubs when yoi^need it. The sweat
pushed out on -. I was thinking
of how much YjjMlk would bring us
after a bathflKj« toTSKgjHFers Nraiver. Barthftl.*
mew stuck towei*but like a man in
a signal every second
brought us closer to open water.
Watching him, intent only on saving
his first train, heedless of saving his
life, I was really a bit ashamed to
jump. While I hesitated he somehow
got the brakes to set. The old 44
bucked like a broncho.
It wasn’t too soon. Sire checked her
train nobly at the last, but I saw noth
ing could keep her from the drink. I
caught Bartholomew a terrific slap,
and again I yelled; then, turning to
the gangway, I dropped into the soft
mud on my side. The 44 hung low,
and it was easy lighting.
Bartholomew sprang from his seat
a second later, but his blouse caught
In the teeth of tho quadrant. He
<
stooped quick as thought and peeled
the thing over his head. But then he
was caught with his hands in the
wristbands, and the ponies of 44
tipped over the broken abutment.
Pull as he would, he couldn’t get
free. The pilot dipped into the torrent
slowly: but, losing her balance, the
1 J
(fri
2 BlJif
i\Vi
W
h
K m
%
"W
45 Y*.
(
—---' 0
Kicked her Hie,.
44 kicked her heels
lightning ami .-hot 4R
wheeze plump into
ging her engineer after her.
Tlie head car stopped on the brink.
Running across the track, I looked for
Bartholomew. lie wasn’t there. I
knew lie must have gone down with
his engine.
Throwing off my gloves, I dived just
as I stood, close to the tender, which
hung half submerged. I am a good bit
of a fish under water, hut no self re
specting fish would he caught in that
yellow mild. I realized, too, the Instant
I struck tho water that I should have
dived on the upstream side. The cur
rent took mo away whirling. When I
eame up for air I was fifty feet below
tho pier. I felt it was all up with Bar
tholomew ns I scrambled out, but to
my amazement ns I shook iny eyes
_L \
'
.
0“
Fuie how
to tear the sh
tie.
The surprise is Jiow little fuss men
make about sucl} things when they are
busy. It took only five minutes for the
conductor to hunt up a coil of ^vire and
a sounder for me, and by the time he
got forward with'it Bartholomew was
halfway up a telegraph pole to help me
cut lu on a live wire. Fast as I could
I rigged a pony and began calling the
McCloud dispatcher. It was a rocky
send, but after no end of pounding 1
got him and gave orders for tho wreck
ing gang and for one more of Neigh
bor’s rapidly decreasing supply of loco
motives.
Bartholomew, sitting on a strip of
fence which still rose above water,
looked forlorn. To lose the first engine
be ever handled In the Beaver was
tough, and he wn-; evidently speculat
ing on his chances of- ever getting an
other. If there weren’t tears in his
eyes, there was storm water certainly.
But after the relief engine had pulled
what was left of us back six miles to
a siding I made it my first business to
explain to Neighbor, nearly beside him
self, that Bartholomew. was not only
not at fault, but that he had actually
saved the train by his nerve.
“I’ll tell you, Neighbor,” I suggest
ed when we got straightened around,
“give us the 109 to go ahead as pilot
and run the stuff around the river
division with Foley and the 21G.”
“What’ll you do with-No. 6?” growl
ed Neighbor. S'x was the local pas
senger west.
“Annul It west of McCloud,” said I
instantly. “We’ve got this silk on our
hands now, and r<j- move It if It tied
up every passenger train on the di
vision. If we c^u get the infernal
stuff through, it will practically beat
the strike; if we fail, It win beat the
company.”
1 the time we backed to Newhall
Junction Neighbor had made up hi#
mind my way. Mullen and I climbed
into the 109, and Foie/ with the 210 v
and none too g6od a grace coupled on
to the silk, and, flying red signals, we
started again for Zanesville over the
river division.
Foley was always full of mischief.
He had a -better engine than ours, any
way, and he took satisfaction the rest
of the afternoon in crowding us. Ev
ery mile of the way' he was on our
heels. I was throwing the coal and
distinctly remember. - reachefi
It was aft -rJiarlt Ijfchett -.we
the Beverb hi# took it at bn 4
lively pace. The strikers were not
our minds then. It was Foley who
bothered.
When the long parallel steel lines
of the upper yards spread before us,
flashing under the arc lights, we were
away above yard speed. Running a
locomotive into one of those big
yards is like shooting a rapid in a
canoe. There is a bewildering maze
of tracks lighted by red and green
lamps to be watched the closest. The
hazards are multiplied the minute you
pass the throat, and a yard wreck is a
dreadful tangle. It makes everybody,
from roadmaster to flagmen, furious,
and not even Bartholomew wanted to
face an inquiry on a yard wreck. On
the other hand, he couldn’t afford to
be caught by Foley, who was chasing
him out of pure caprice.
I saw the boy holding the throttle at
a hnlf and fingering the air anxiously
as we jumped through the frogs, but
the roughest riding on track so far
beats the ties as a cushion that when
the 109 suddenly stuck her paws
through au open switch we bounced
against the roof of the cab like foot
balls. I grabbed a brace with one
hand and with the other reached in
stinctively across to Bartholomew’s
side to seize the throttle he held, but
as I tried to shut him off he jerked It
’wide open in spite of me and turned
with lightning In his eye.
“No!” he cried, and his voice rang
hard. The 109 took the tremendous
shove at her back and leaped like n
frightened horse. Away we went
across the yard, through the cinders
and over the ties. My teeth have nev-.
er been the same since. I don’t be
long on an engine anyway, and since
then I have kept off. At the moment
I was convinced that the strain had
been too much, that Bartholomew was
stark crazy. He sat bouncing clear to
the roof and clinging to his levers like
a lobster.
But his strategy was dawning on
me. In fact, he was pounding it Into
me. Even the shock and scare of leav
ing the track and tearing up the yard
had not driven from Bartholomew’s
noddle the most important feature of
our situation, which was, above every
thing, to keep out of the way of the
silk train.
I felt every moment more mortified
at my attempt to shut him off. I had
the trick of th^^n^gio grabs
/»’, *
to iustaMt resWfteT Till: 'ordinary dub
thinks what he should have done to
avoid disaster after it is all over. Bar
tholomew thought before.
On we humped, across frogs, through
switches, over splits and into target
rods, when—and this is the miracle of
it all—the 109 got her fore feet on a
split switch, made a contact, and, after
a slew or two like a bogged horse, she
swung up sweet on the rails again,
tender and all. Bartholomew shut off
with nn under cut that brought us up
double and nailed her feet, with the
air, right where she stood.
We had left the track, plowed a hun
dred leet across tho yards and jumped
on to another track. It is the only
ever heard of Its happening
b ut I was ou the engine
*?Jmew Mullen when It
JUP (ft; ^hoked hind his lights train bobbing. the instant We
saw our
climbed down and ran back. He had
stopped just where we should have
stood If I had shut off. Bartholomew
ran to the switch to examine it. The
contact light, green, still tourtrtd like a
false beacon, and lucky it did, for it
showed the switch had been tampered
with and exonerated Bartholomew
Mullen completely. The attempt of
the strikers to spill the silk right in
the yards had only made the reputa
tion of a new engineer. Thirty min
utes later the million dollar train was
turned over to the eastern division to
wrestle with, and we breathed, all of
us, a good bit easier.
Bartholomew Mullen, now a passen
ger runner, who ranks with Kennedy
and Jack Moore and Foley and George
mm
4 '/Mt , n
a’
t 1 j
,9
<£ 9
mm
■MMi
\
Away we went across the yard and over
1: the tics.
Sinclair himself, got a personal letter
from the general manager compliment
ing him on his pretty wit, and he was
good enough to say nothing whatever
about mina^
to Wt sup[J| - re iT ■Sj^tuer—Fbleyy nj that night and Jackson; went
Bartholoh 5* and I. Afterward we
dropped into the dispatcher’s office.
Something was coming from McCloud,
but the operators, to save their lives,
couldn’t catch it. I listened a minute.
It was Neighbor. Now, Neighbor isn’t
great on dispatching trains. lie can
make himself understood over the
poles, but his sending is like a boy’s
sawing wood—sort of uneven.
However, though I am not much on
running yards, I claim to he able to
take the wildest bail that was ever
thrown along the wire, and the chair
was tendered me at once to catch
Neighbor’s extraordinary passes at the
McCloud key. They came something
like this;
To Opr.:
Tell Massacree [that was the word that
stuck them all, and I could perceive
Neighbor was talking emphatically. He
had apparently forgotten Bartholomew’s
last name and was trying to connect with
the one he had disremembered the night
before]—tell Massacree [repeated Neigh
bor] that he is al-1-1 right. Tell hi-m I
give ’im double mileage for today all the
way through, And tomorrow he gets
the 109 to keep. NEIGHB-B-OR.
Vtilgnrity.
At a mountain hunting resort a
richly dressed, ( florid looking woman,
bedecked with wels in tho daytime,
remarked to out, of her family party
in a loud, confident tone, “They’re the
same crowd; I seen them people at thq
station in New York.” The tone, the
atrocious mangling of the English lan
guage, the dress and manner, elicited
the comment from an old gentleman, am*
“How utterly coarse, common
vulgar!”
- Tho guides and native hunters vio
late all the rules of grammar in their
speech. They say, “Hank, I hain’t got
no terbacker in this coat,” and the
like, and yet their rude and uncouth
speech does uot strike any one used to
the words as “vulgar.” Rough and un
grammatical speech from the lips of
rough and unlettered men seems rath
er natural, hut there is a violent in
harmony and inappropriateness in
common and hideous language from
the mouths of men and women who,
from their wealth, opportunities, dress
and way of life, may be expected to
pay some attention to the refinements
and elegancies of life.—Philadelphia
Ledger.
___
Relics.
A tooth a n, se d to have been drawn
from Napo leon’s head at St. Helena
$4<> could he obtained, but
" a 11 ' 1 ’ ”* :it
, hundred dollars is said to have
been given for Descartes skull, where
a s $3,400 was given for one of Sir
Isaac Newton’s teeth, and $20,000 was
offered for one of the teeth of Heloise
at the time when Her body was ex
burned. The waistcoat worn by Rous
scan has been priced at $190, bis watch
at $100. Not all the relics, however,
in which there has been traffic have
been genuine. Voltaire cannot have
owned more than a fraction of tho
walking sticks that have been sold ns
his, and a tradesman in France used
to boast that he had disposed of 132
“last walking sticks” carried by Jean
Jacques Rousseau. A Paris tradesman
for a long time did an equally lucra
tive business in “the last pair of trou
sers worn by Victor Hugo.”
OUR BIG BROWN BEARS.
They Are More Than a Match For the
Largest African Lions.
What percentage of people, even
of those who feel an interest in
wild animal life, really know that
the largest flesh eating animals in
the world are found in America?
People generally believe, and have
believed for ages, that the African
lion is the king of beasts. But he is
not nearly as large or as powerful
an animal as the large brown bear
of subartic America. The bears
are not as ferocious or combative as
the lions, nor are they nearly as
vicious as they are given credit for
being. But the largest of them are
much larger and more powerful
than any of the lions. It is safe to
say that the largest of the brown
bears of the north would weigh
three times as much as the largest
specimen of lion and is beyond
all question greatly superior in
strength. these powerful
Comparing action if brought two togeth
animals in
er in combat, the bear would at
first appear very clumsy. It would
not be capable of the quick rush or
the catlike spring of the lion. It
would not attack, but would remain
entirely on the defensive, meeting such
its adversary with blows of
rapidity and terrible force as at
once to illustrate its superiority not
only in strength, but in action. I
do not believe that there is an ani
mal in the world that can act more
quickly or effectively or can aim its
blows with greater certainty than
the bear.
The large brown bears of the
Alaska peninsula, south of Bering
sea, are among the largest bears of
the world, and it is evident that
there is no part of the world out
side of America in which such large
flesh eating animals are found. The
bears are flesh eaters, or carnivo
rous, yet there are none of them
that depend upon flesh for food,
and with most of them flesh com
prises but a very small percentage
of their food.
The large brown bears of the
north and those of the Alaska pen
insula usually travel to the sea
when first leaving hibernation. —
Andrew J. Stone in Scribner’s.
Language oTTcfeiis.
Volume of sound is, indeed, the
boast of most old bells. “Although
my waiste is small,” says a Somer
set bell in its motto, “I will be
heard against you all. Sing on, my
jolly sisters!” We are not sur
prised, knowing bells, that "this old
bell rung the downfall of Bona
parte and broke, April, 1814.” We
only wish there were more Bona
partes. The inscription on a Rut
land hell has a bitter significance
for the enemies of church hells be
sides its own sad one for most of us,
“I sound not for the souls of the
dead, but for the ears of the liv
ing.” But the inscription that de
serves to be w-ritten in gold over
the belfry of, say, Kensington
church is the beautiful old Latin
one, also on a Rutland bell: “Xon
clamor sed amor cantat in aure
Dei” (“Not noise, but love, sings
in the ears of God”).—St. James
Gazette.
Our Most Humiliating War.
But for Osceola there would nev
er have been any Seminole war at
all, and, all things considered, his
career marks the most humiliating
war the United States ever engaged
in. There were less than 6,000
Seminoles, men, women and chil
dren, in all Florida when hostilities
began with the murder of General
Thompson by Osceola. That great
chief’s cunning, capacity and cour
age had cost tlje nation no less than
$30,000,000 and the lives of three
soldiers for every Indian brave that
he led. Such an appalling record
of destruction stands against no
other fighter on all our frontiers.—
Lynn Tew Sprague in Outing Mag
azine.
She Won Out.
He—I love you! farthing
She—But I have not a
in the world.
He—Ah, hut you did not let me
finish. I was going to say, “I love
you not.”
She—Indeed! I only meant to
put you to the test. The fact is, I
have a fortune of £60,000.
He—Yes, hut you again inter
rupted me just now. What I meant
to say was, “I love you not for the
sake of your money.”
She—So glad to hear you say
that! It was all a joke about the
$60,000!—London Mail.
Suspicious.
“I am in terror,” said Mrs. Good
! son. “Every time I hear the bell
! ring I know I’ll hear something
dreadful about Jack. I’m sure he’s
i been in some mischief.”
“What makes you think so?” ask
ed her husband.
“Oh, he came straight home from
school this afternoon, %at down and
studied his lesson for tomorrow for
nearly two hours and has been as
good as an angel ever since.”
NO. 30.
NEWSPAPER ADVERTISING.
For a number of years 1 adver
tised only in my windows and i.i
some of the street cars, because l
did not feel that 1 could afford to
advertise in the daily papers. Two
years ago last September 1 was hav
ing a cravenette coat sale, and 1
succeeded in selling for a couple of
weeks about fifty*.moats a day. 1
thought I would try a column ad. in
one of the evening papers. The
next day this column ad. appeared
in One of the evening papers, and
by the bye, it was not the one that
has the largest circulation in Chi
cago. I selected the paper that this
ad. appeared in because they gave
me a low rate, but they agreed to
give my ad. a good position in the
paper. The result was that the
next day the sales, which formerly
had been about fifty coats fifty a day, I
jumped to 142, and in days
had sold over 3,500 rain coats.
For the year following that sale I
continued to advertise in this one
paper. Last fall I felt that I could
afford to invest, say, about $5,000
in advertising in some of the other
papers. I used three morning pa
pers and three evening papers, the
best in Chicago. The results have
been something phenomenal. I did
not have to invest the $5,000. The
profits came back from the newspa
per advertising before their bills
came in, and I do not figure today
that I have a dollar invested in ad
vertising. — "Autobiography of a 1
Business Man” in Everybody’s Mag
azine.
Not a Guelph Dynasty.
It is probable that the oldest and
most compact book of reference in
the world—certainly the one most
consulted by the great ones of the
earth—is the “ALmanach de Gotha,”
of which the publishers have just
issued the one hundred and forty
fourth edition, consisting of just
1,200 closely packed pages. From
this authentic publication Chronicle, we that learn, the
says the London
British people are living not up
der a Guelph dynasty, but a "maison
de Saxe-Coburg-Gotha,” which is a
delicate question for the genealo
gists. But the editor of the om
niscient red bound “Almanaeh”
raTely, makes a mistake. if2
> -
Tipping an M. P.
Several M. P.’s have not
offered tips but have pocketed "
been
them with a polite "Thank you.”
Among Lord Tweedmouth’s cher
ished possessions is a half crown,
framed and with the words “Hon
estly earned” underneath. This coin
was* given to his lordship several
years ago when as Mr. Majoribanks
he escorted two American ladies
over the house of parliament. by their The
ladies were so charmed
handsome and courtly attendant,
whom they took to bo one of the
officials, that the elder of them in
sisted on his accepting half a crown
in return for his services.—London
Tit-Bits.
Railroad Improvements.
Nearly $380,000,000 were ex
pended last year upon the railroads
of the United States in expansion
and improvement. One railroad
company alone is at work on im
provements which will cost $200,
000,000 when completed. Not many
years ago the total annual revenues
of the government were less than
the amount expended on railroad
improvement last year. It does not
look as if the capitalists think that
living machines v 1 take the place
of freight and passenger ears in the
near future.—Youth’s Companion.
Settlers Driving Out Cattle.
The day of the big cattle ranches
in the far west has practically Cattle de
parted. The Franklin com
pany of South Dakota, the largest
range cattle company in the west,
has sold its 80,000 head of cattle
and is to go out of business. These
cattle have been ranging through
western South Dakota and northern
Wyoming. The rapid settling of
the range by homesteaders is given
by the cattle company as its reason
for winding up its affairs.—Spring
field Republican.
Its Face Value.
The Georgia youth wrote to the
old man from a distant city:
“Dear Father—I regret to say
that I broke my New Year resolu
tion. I’m sorry—hut please send
me $60.” brief,
The old man*s reply was
but eloquent. He wrote:
“Dear John—You put too high a
value on that resolution. It wuzn’t
worth 6 cents!”—Atlanta Constitu
tion.
The Russian Terrorists.
Between February, 1900, and No
vember, 1906, the Russian terrorists
killed Or injured by bomb, revolver
or dagger 1,937 officials and impor
tant persons, including 67 govern
ors general, governors and town
prefects, 1,719 police officers and
policemen, 500 army officers and
soldiers, 215 civil functionaries, clergymen.— 117
manufacturers and 53
London Graphic.