About The Millen news. (Millen, Jenkins County, Ga.) 1903-current | View Entire Issue (July 10, 1903)
CONCERNING HUMILITY. lew in • town v«rd. fiws^r paved, | A humble urid**»ii grew. 1 . Above her her.'! tall lilacs wared. Proud in their plumes of DiU*». The dandelion’s beaming face . Was unwnrd turned. yet all in vata. i The ’i^ac K contemptaini,space r In haughty, cold disdain. • «V> well!” the dandelion sighed, '•'Far lather would I low.y be Than flr.mt my blowoms hi«l and wide For all the world to sec. And did a gentle little child Ignore the lilac’s higher CAim And pluck the dandelion mud? Xo, reader; not the same. Nor did a wicked youngster tear The lilac bushes with htt knue. And leave the dandelion there - To lead the quiet life. Jfumhle the dandelion lay. Veiling her face in verdant screens, Intil a man came by that way And dug her up for greens. In ostentatious vanity The lilacs evermore aspired. Therein they showed their sanity And got themselves admired. And this, dear reader, goes to show That men don't gain thro’ being swabs, We musn’t hold ourselves too low If we should hold our jobs. —The Newark News. • j The Price [ of Freedom F YT”| HE air of Arizona was dry and ' I stifling and the doors of Davis I County jail stood open to the "g* four winds of heaven, hut there was one padlocked cell in the board shanty, scarcely good enough to pen a sheep In but quite good enough for a horse thief, and it held Jim Fla<k. The sheriff and his deputy were playing poker and Jim was watching them through his barred window, when a woman walked In—it was Martina, Jim Flack's wife—and with one loving glance and a “howdy” to her husband threw a loaf of bread on the table be tween the sheriff and his companion. The sheriff drew a formidable knife from the back of his belt and with two sharp motions of the blade cut the loaf into three pieces. 1 “Nary.file nor shootin’ iron there," he said; “never left a dull spot ou the blade. Mis’ Flack, you’re a prime good baker. Give him this loaf, dep.” Martina turned her back on the two men, and like a flash' her eyes tele graphed something to Jim, but his keen, handsome face gave not the slightest token of response. The sheriff had his eyo on him, and he wasn’t going to give anything away. He was „ allowed speak to his wife with the two " 'the' kids?” asked .the prls- V “Pbart" Martina’s °yes filled with tears. Shiv was picturesque in her youth and strength, with her sun burned hair tumbling about her round, honest face. Her cheeks glowed with exeriSlse and the heat of the day, and there hung around her that indeflna . hie something that is the religion of women who love. She looked at her Jim with longing and tears, but she could not talk with those men listen ing. Even desperadoes have their mo ments of delicacy,.blit this sheriff and hl* denuty had none. "Don't whimper, little woman,” said the sheriff, rudely, “there's as good fish In the sea as was ever caught. He- hel” • You'!! spoil yer pretty eyes, Mis’ E^Wk,” said the leering deputy. .Tim Flack doubled ills brawny fist and there was murder in his, heart as he heard the men chaffing his wife. True, he had stolen horses, but that was his only crime, and it had come about through his being cheated in a horse trade, and he had stolen to get even, not remembering that two wrongs can never make a right. But he would not have kicked an enemy when he was down, and his reverence for wom en and children was inborn. lie had hard work now to control his temper, ■bur nt a look of caution from his wife he managed to maintain a sullen silence.’ > “Eat the middle of the loaf first,” sho said as she touched the bread, "it are slack baked, as you like it, Jim.” . , When she had gone Jim took that section of the loaf and broke it in two. It was well that the sheriff nnd his companion had become involved in a quarrel over their game, other wise they would have heard something I fall from the prisoner’s hand and roll LJ noisily on the floor. It was a S2O gold | “She Lev sold poor Jlnny’a colt,” I thought J’’» ns he- picked up the I money, "it hcv been baked inter the I bread, an’ it means n bribe-yes, it do I —hut whether for the sheriff or dep—or I —hold on—mebbe both. Helio! Es I she ain't writ somethin’ on It then I’m I < The crooked white letters on the gold I . piece had been written with a greased , istkk after a method known in the ^ats-Jnst a few words which, I Ciphered easily by Jim. rend: a . “Jinny—Witches iilii -to night, dep." |ss . - He understood. Martina would have I Jinny, the finest and fleetest mare In I all the country round, at Witches Hilt. I and he was to bribe the deputy to help I him escape. That.mare was Martina's B — *ail she on ued in the world' except I the children -and It had escaped < on- I fiscation at the hands of the law by her I peniren right Jim knew the sheriff | had a personal dislike for him and the band of the deputy, Jim walked out n free man. Ho had no intention of getting off without paying over, the money, but ho had no confidence in the man who was helping him and was determined that he would not pay ths price until he Avns sure of freedom. Ho Lad promised the amount when they reached WltehCs Hill, and had given no intimation of being in pos session of any money. Arrived at the hill, they found Jinny there, tied to a tree. She whinnied with joy at the sight of Jim. There was no sign of Martina or the children, and for this be war very thankful, for Ue could not have stood the parting. He must ride for his life far away, aud they must not know where, till his escape blew over. He commended her good sense and vowed in his heart to live a straight life for h?r sake thereafter. He had placed his hand on Jinny’s bridle when the deputy collared him. “Pay up, mum pay up, or I’ll save you from a hanging, right now and here. I don’t risk my life for nothing. Shell out and be quick if you’ve got It. I don’t see but you've fooled me after ail.” He cocked his revolver just as Jim drew out the gold piece. The next moment one quick shot sent Jim Flack reeling into the dust, but it was not the deputy who fired it. The sheriff had tracked the two men to their ren dezvous, and now put up his gun and said: “See es that Jail breaker is dead and done for!" “He's dead enough,” answered the deputy,' turning Jim over and shaking with fear. “Then we'll bury him like a soldier where he fell, and he’P tell no tales. Much too good for such carrion. Get to work.” They dug a shallow grave and laid Jim in it. The gold piece was made tributary to military law—the sheriff took it. When their work was finished the deputy waited for orders. “Take the mare and ride for ypnr life, and see that you go clear of the State—the farther you ride Abe safer you’ll be. And don't come back here till I send for you.” The going of the deputy made no stir and be never came back to tell what he knew. Martina lives in her little home and waits for news of Jim. Her patient eyes have a strained look from gazing long and eagerly after every horseman or foot passenger in sight on thp long, straight road that leads nowhere—and everywhere. Her pretty brown hair is faded more than ever—indeed, it has grown to a yellow tint from the burning sun, and Jim’s kids have acquired her habit of stand ing in the doorway of the shack and from under a shielding arm watching, watching. One of them Is always on the watch for “pap.” What a welcome wouldlK- N4-1f be ever came.-Mra. Breathitt’s Hirer Loop. As there is.more or less interest just' now in the town of Jackson, Breathitt County, Kentucky, let me mention one fact In connection with the place which may have been overlooked In the rush. At Jackson, or In its immediate envir ons, the small boy who finds it difficult to throw a stone across a vacant lot, or the baseball player who Is making a record when he throws a ball 115 yards can stand within a few feet of the Kentucky River and throw a stone or a ball seven miles down the stream, then turn around and'throw one seven miles up the stream. Doesn’t seem to be possible, does it? Yet it is, and I have done it. Let me explain: The Kentucky River at this point runs among the hills, which are steep and rocky; and at Jackson it strikes the hills opposite the town on the upper side and bounds back, so to speak, in a great loop around a territory of bottom land seven miles in circumference, com ing back to the lower side of the sharp dividing ridge to within a few feet of Itself seven miles above by the meas ure around. This ridge Is 200 or 300 feet high, and is so narrow that one, for 200 or 300 yards on its top must walk carefully or he will slide info the wat.r below. A tunnel sixty-eight.feet long has been cut under the “saddle” and a mill at the lower end gets seven miles of fall,in sixty-eight feet. There are a good m. uy rivers with loops in them, but I know of none equal to the Kentucky River at Jackson. — Corre spondent in New York Sun. — - - ■. — The Dsrel'ete on the Ocean. v The currents of the North 'Atlantic Ocean bear always on their ruffled sur faces, year in and year out, at least two score of derelicts—half sunk and abandoned vessels that drift aimlessly over the sea, helplessly, lonely, pitiful menaces to navigation, as fatal to their sister ships as sunken rocks, fog-bound icebergs or hurricanes. Why the currents of the North Atlan tic should be so plentifully laden with these lonely carcasses of once gallant ships, to'say nothing of numerous spars^ tree trunks and misguided, truant buoys. Is not altogether because that part of the sea Is so full of com- I merce. but on account of the nature I and direction of the currents theft- The waters of the whole ocean—of ail the oceans, for that matter—flow slowly but surely through n grand sys tem of currents and counter currents as regular as *he cycles of the blood tn our veins, and the countries that bor der on the seas, the fish that swim in them, aud the ships that sell over them are fully as dependent on them. The Gulf Stream, with its river of warm, blue water, everybody knows, but that THE LATEST IERES i 1 SEVENTEEN" NOT All I « THE POETS MAKE HEN OUT TO ir ■ BEV-SOME THINGS WHICH MAY 6 I SC UROEO AGAINSTTHISMAatC J \ AOE OS MAIDENS. J T \ Y some strange tradition of the |— < poets romance has always 1 J circled, about the age of sweet h seventeen. Various epochs have, of course, held various ideals of beauty, but nothing is more remark able. says H. B. Marriott Watson in the London Daily Mail, than the varia tion in the age of attractiveness in women, which has risen and fallen with every tide of history.' It has been every nubile year that Is possible, from the maiden of bashful fifteen to Cleo patra, ripe and rare, of forty summers. Scarcely three generations ago, to have passed Into the twenties without secur ing a husband was to have confessed yourself a failure; whereas now the proper age of wedlock seems bent on shifting to the further side of thirty. Mr. Ruskin used to encourage young men in marrying as hurriedly as pos sible, in which case, of course,' the youthful maiden would necessarily be In request. But the tendency of mod ern times is against the habit, and, while men keep their freshness till >ver forty, women consider themselves girls until near thirty. There is some reason in the change, for our ancestors of bygone generations most assuredly Jxed the age limit too low. “She was past the first bloom of youth,” wrote the critical novelist in those days; “she was nearly twenty.” Nowadays we are becoming familiar with heroines who are grandmothers, and yet seem as newly opened buds to our delighted eyes. Beauties flourish at three-score in and out of print, and flfty may be the prime of life. There Is, of course, an element of ex aggeration in this new departure, but on the whole the change of view will’ help to right a balance which has long been unduly against real maturity. “No woman,” says Du Maurler’s pet ted beauty, “is worth looking at after thirty.” To which the answer is pat enough, “Nor worth speaking to be fore.” It is certainly impossible for any one save her coevals, to talk with “Sweet Seventeen.” She is immature and she is raw, and unripeness is not to every one's taste. She has not lost the large physical greed of childhood and will suck choc olates and eat buns by the hour—in pri vate; while she has already developed all the vanity of the adult woman without its compensations. If she were frankly greedy it would be easy to do with her, for we might pat her on the head and send her into the gar den to eat apples. But the Is not. She conceals her ap netife and vaunts horseif Binder Jhe guise of adultness which gbe has no right to wear. Her dresses are often long and her hair is often done up, but she remains a calf in her mind and at titude. Sweet Seventeen, indeed. Is Crude Seventeen, and neither child nor woman, with the disadvantages and vices of both. > The superstition of Sweet Seventeen Is as egregious as the imposture of her innocence. Sweet Seventeen Is not in nocent; but, on the contrary, knows a good deal more than she Is given credit for. At the same time I will not deny that she Is often profoundly ignorant, which is by no means the -same thing as being Innocent. She Is naive, of. course, when it suits her purpose and pcses as the ingenue. There is no measuring the untruth of Sweet Seventeen. Everything about her is a Ue—her looks, which promise what they rarely achieve, her demure expression, her feint of modesty, her air of aloofness from material things, and her pretense of sympathy and In terest. She cannot be really interest ed in' anything except herself and her appearance, and she has no sympathy for any one except the bosom friend to whom she thinks she is ftevoted—for a week or fortnight. The young girl has two faces or as 'pects of conduct, the one for Ijer ad mirers and the world beyond them whence more admirers may ultimately arrive, and the other for her intimates and familiars with whom there is no need to stand on., ceremony and be at the pains of pretenses aud artificial cloaks. To see her with her company manners doffed is to be introduced to quite a new animal, which Is, as a rule, carefully hidden from the eyes and knowledge of men. They do not know the sort of crea ture that lurks, predatory, in their drawing rooms and its own boudoirs. To be quite just, she would be more dangerous if she were courageous, but she is utterly destitute of courage. Happily, the boy has not the stature Os the stone man nor the young girl the spirit of the squaw. Otherwise society would come to an end. The most provoking characteristic of the young girl is her illogical blend of sentiment and practicality. Rhe is as bad as a Lowland Scot for that'use ful combination. She will calmly dis cuss with other young girls how many accept 'wßh t^V SScti^ T^b^d 0 over heels in passionate affection for a popular actor, or a liopular soldier,who has not and does not want one. For these heroes of the public eve ahe will sigh like a furnace, and will extrava gantly collect their photographs or autographs with a persistency worthy »f a better cause; but.that will not pre vent her later in the day from ogling some one with a comfortable income Ing off *icn she does not want to fact , facts. Where are corners into whicl . notiihigfrill induce her to look for fen: ( she sb>Kld understand. “Horrid” 1: her tasldegree of condemnation., ant ' ‘ .yhef gW not know or cannot un deratanflis always “horrid.” This ®n-witted- elusive, giddy am 1 trenchewus creature is what has beer. . picked Jat by poetical Hcense for the care at* heart of romance, for the ideal owyoutb, beauty and goodness We arellways the martyrs of our tra ditlons, land how many have gone to the stalf for this one! The young girl has no mind, has no logic, and has ne , humor; she is greedy, vain, wv, army ; and false. Surely this is a sufficient ; indictment. !: But there is one plea on which per- j haps we jnay all forgive and excuse ; her, for. from this tadpole is evolved in the due course of nature the finished woman, adult and responsible, with all her defects and her virtues, and, at any rate, with a charm and charactei of her own. The DHeaMB of Anlm»l». The diseases of animals are classifies now almost as accurately as those which afflict mankind. Fortunately they are fewer in number, are less ma lignant and respond quicker to intelli gent treatment. On the other hand, it is a noticeable fact that the number of animal-4i<eases is increasing among our domestic and captive creatures. In other wards, the tendency of diseases io multiffiy in modern civilized commu nities iAlso noticeable among the ank main. 4b 1 ' 8 18 due partly to the artifi cial conations under which both live. If it were not for man’s intelligence in devising mgans of suppressing the spread oaf new diseases the human race \ would long since have been swept off the earth by great world-wide epidem ics. • Likewise our household animals and captive wild creatures would grad ually suitumb to the new cage djs eases as* dwindle down in numbers. It is by keeping pace with the progress of diseases and epidemics among ths captive animals that man Is enabled to checlf-the destructive effects of this artificial life, and even to protect the animals better than when running wild in captivity. Indeed, the cage animals, instead of finding their, lives short ened, hove actually better prospects oi a long life. Their longevity is steadily on the increase, especially among the smaller animals, which in the forest are subject the constant prey of the larger and fiercer cieatures.—New York Times. ' A boat the Two-Foot Rnle. Every ks'-o-foot rule that is carried folded^*ln the pocket of a mechanic is a ‘HneijJ descendant of the original English imperial or standard yard, which is pea lously guarded in London. This yaritiwvbar of “Bailey’s” wHal of sixteen parts of pftti.s wj.” Uh and one pa^t zine. : This Mr is just one Inbh square In the cross section, and is thirty-eight inches long. A gold plug ill let into this bar one Inch from each end. Across the flush face of each gold plug a Une is drawn, and the distance between thg two llpes when ^ar hasl tempdiature of sixty-two degrees Fahrenheit is exactly thirty-six inches. If the bar is less than sixty-two de grees temperature then the distance be tween the/lines on the gold plugs is less than thirty-six inches; if the bards warmer than the standard temperature then the expansion of the metal makes the. distance between the two lines more -than thirty-six Inches. This bar is never used for comparison. Exact ccffiies of it are kept for standardizing other standard yards, and wlicn this is done the temperature of the copies of the standard yard is always sixty-two degrees. An < ixact copy of the original English standard yard is kept in Wash ington, where a full set of the stand-, ards that govern weights and measures are maintained.—Chicago Record-Her ald. Farcical Boavlt of Dnels. Dueling still flourishes on the conti nent, but, although one occasionally hears of a fatal result, there is fai more comedy than tragedy in the so called affaires d’honneur of the pres ent day. Nothing could have been more farcical than the Deroulde-Buffel affair,’in which, it will be remembered, each patty, while loudly proclaiming his Intention to fight to the death, look every * possible care to avoid the other. The - between Count Boni de Cas te?i«iie and M. de'Bodays, director oi tho^&re, is another recent instance It Ss^id tbof. considerable astonish mbat was expressed when it was fount that tSj’ Jqurnalist had been woiuidcd. Such an outcome of the fight was un looked for ind when it is considered tfilfehe bullets used by French com ba Wits are generally faked, little sur prise Wed be expressed at the fatclcal termipatiqn to so many duels.—Till Bits. ' . I A Unique Newspaper. A daily newspaper for which the newm is roppiied entirely by wireless telegrkpby lias been established on the •islan&qf pntalina, a tourists’ resort in tWljfeWlfic. Catalina is flfty-twe of tlmt place issues the Wireless as an I nnhHmiF I MilpUUliViltlvU Ivl lilt: pUXpv^E I uv*ort? iue*r urxiw«> > SOE'DIEH: > FIGHTER. ‘■’o *'«• ■ .- b -is b b «•» w b b b » •::• b » « b « b •::• b « b « b b # a fc bbbbjbb* bbb w * * «:• »b b •::■ b*«.«. o* » # ■ ..BY FRJIUKUN MATTHEWS 8 O b b b b» b b b < b b b. b ■» * * «} * ■ :S b b“b“b b' b' b b’b ‘* BRIGADIER-GENERAL who had seen service in jhe A Civil War, in fighting In^ dians, in Cuba, in the Phfl lupines, and in China, stood cn a knoll near headquar ers at Fort Riley, Kansas, in the early inrt of last October, peering through Jis binoculars at a great cloud of dust node by a regiment of cavalry as it iashed furiously across the plain in me of the sham battles by the regulars n the ten days’ maneuvres there. The irecracker rattle of the guns of six regiments of infantry, , followed by :helr swift rushes across the plains ind their plunges to the ground, the •oar of half a dozen batteries of field tuns, throwing imaginary shells and mrllng defiance to one another, came is music to his ears. The gray and wind-tanned Brigadier :ould repress his enthusiasm no longer, ind he turned to a friend, who hud left rhe Army at the cl se of the Civil War and who was his guest at the nanuevres. and said: “Best soldiers in the world. Colonel!” “Hardly that. General,” replied the Colonel. “There were no better sol- Ilers, and there never will lie better soldiers, than the men in the Army p the last two years of the Civil War.” "Quite right, of course. But wnat i meant was that the American private v soldier, equipped and trained as he is :o-day, is the best fighting-machine mown, and that he can do 100 per :ent. more work—is 100 per cent, more jfficlent—than he could.when we were Agisting in the South. lie shoots further, he sees further, he hears further— yes, he marches/ further and endures more than when we were youngsters winning our first shoulder straps. I’ll prove It to you, "w morale is 100 per cent, improved u. the old days.” HIS WEAPONS THEN AND NOW. j For a week the active man of mill- B tary service and the active man ofß| business who had come back to suiel® powder and renew tha Viartial spiriM of his youth went into ’svery deta S of the maneuvres. They tow -a ivrag^| Jorgensen rifle and had a private hit a 5 tree more than a mile away. The ’ Springfields of a dozen years ago ' couldn’t shoot more than 1500 ynrds or three-quarters of the distance the 1 Krags shoot. Then the Genral told of the new Springfields which have beep ’ adopted by the Army to supplant the KragS, and his eyes snapped as he did go. Out in the Philippines and In China । pew warmed to Their work and grew ex cited, were found “shooting air” ‘ in steej of cartridges out of tbeir -sguns. t In the excitement they forgot to r<H I charge the magazines. I All that Is gone now. The brand- . new Springfield.is. entirely, encased in ( wood, and lire soldier caiFhandle it in • comfort at all times. It is lighter than < the King and weighs only seven and . one-half pounds. But most' important i of all. when the soldier has fired all the cartridges in his clip, he is unable to go , through the motions of shooting the weapon again—that is, he can't shoot air—until he has recharged the gun. The barrel has also been shortened to the length of th carbine, and hereafter the infantry and cavalry will carry the same weapon. Whether the soldier is a mounted infantryman or a dismount ed cavalryman, or just a plain infantry man or cavalryman, his gun will be the same, and only one kind of ammuni tion needs to be supplied. 1 Then, too, the private soldier of to day, it was seen at a glance, is more than 100 times as efficient a shooter, when It is realized that he carries with him in his compact belt 150 cartridges where he used to carry only fifty. Right here is the secret of his ability to march further and to go on long “hikes,” where his range of action for merly was limited to the necessity of keeping closer in touch with hls.afhmu nltion supply. • . » EDECTEIC WOES IN the field. Soon there came along the Signal Corps with their telegraph Instruments and their wires and their flags and /other paraphernalia. In the midst of a rush across th? country a regimer^wns jstopped suddenly; the order was given jto wheel and to rush to a distant part of the field. There was no aide rush ing up and dashing back to '•he General in command. The Signa. Corps had received word that more men were de manded In a weak spot in the line. The General at once telegraphed to stop the regiment that was making headway in forced rushes, with open spaces between the men, to retrace its steps and to strengthen a force that ifad been outflanked. ‘•That's the kind of work we did in China,” shouted the Brigadier. Wlih a whoop* and a cloud of dust the men disappeared. In less than a half hour 'there was more signaling and tele graphing and back the regiment charged. It was difficult to see them most of the time, and the opposing force was practically out of sight. “How did. they know they were needed just then?” asked the Colonel. | “Osr glasses in the old days were not able to detect the movements that have Hust been so promptly checked.” ' nlnrs anil iff- t W ii C- U # ft ft ft $ nlgut. It was the wonder of the other I forces. And now they say they are | perfecting a system of puotograiih : 5 twenty miles away by electricity. I have that, too. Fancy the advantage'd it would have been to take a pictuta over a mountain twenty miles sway in fighting Indians in the time (“lister and Crook. Lawton might bsve got old Geroiimo sooner if he could have taken his picture several times as he was fleeing into the mountains of Mexico. When the wireless telegra phy is perfected we’ll have that fu op eration. To some extent we’ll use the telephone.” The Hospital Corps passed by. The General stopped them. “Show this man bow you operate with those Flrst-Aid to-the-Injured packages you carnr said. Oue of the men dropped^Ml ground. He was supposed ga wounded in the leg. <‘utAf bandaites aTtltrept4U4ux*J«| the flow of blood. In a 'fl . he was bound up and . cady the stretcher to he . v.-e have such leys." -lid the life woul ! have been , J > ^B^ T': slmt- attic, rea" 'C th ' de® . / - -d tr"in h 'an ' u'. . .1 " 'i‘ I' 1 j hl' n : apart and ; ,aad flgj| the -^1 n Then the Golonel u ktsl up courage* to teH the lirigadn. Jiat the general, oplulon of opieeijs gther armies was that the men in the tinFted States Ai’iuv were “babied too much. A of disapproval, amounting to haif-ra^ was the first answer. “Other people don’t see why we make our men as comfortable' as possible in ordinary routine army work,” he said. And then he told why one finds the American private soldier with napkins, good beds,, good rations, and even confections, such as chocolate, provided for him, “ ‘The best ct all times' is the creed of our Army,” he said., “When the men are in barracks or camp, why not make them comfortable ? They know that in war it’s another story? Time and again they are likely to go half starved. But what’s of importance is the fact that they know the officers will be half starved with them. There’ll j be "no favoritism when the fighting Is on. No food is too good for the Amer ican private soldier at such times, and he knows he'll get just as good things to eat as his superiors in rank if he gets anything. He’s willing to give up his napkins and his sweets, just as he is Willing to go without his dean linen and creased trousers and well brushed coat, when time for business comes "around. e “Yes, we no ‘baby’ the mon in the sense that we care for thr.u all we can. On the march to Pekin we had distilled water for them. We made it ourselves from our own plants, as we wept along. Our commissary and quat termaster arrangements were the won der of the troops of the other nations In that march. We had ’em all beat. That was one result of our desire to make our fighting-machine ns strong as possible. ’Babying’ ’em, they call it. eh? Well, I call it making strong men of ’em.”—Harper's Weekly. — “ i , Used Cannon »t » Duel. A good story Is to’.d oi’ a noted Hu®' sian swashbuckler who fought a du< with a Polish painter. The latter gen tleman was the Insulted party, and on the advice of an ingtnious friend me lected field cannon ns his weapon, am the officer, finding that nobody wonlii back him up in a refusal, had to acqui esce. Two field pieces were procured, gunners employed to load them, an the combatants were instructed ho to pup the string at a given signal The Russian ought to have known ihat an upward inclination of the cannon however slight, would cause the balls to go whizzing yards above the com batants’ heads. But he was so un manned by the novelty of his position that when the guns pent off with an
