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VOL. I.
THE FLAG
Up with the banner: of the free!
Its stars and stripes unfurl,
And let the battle beauty blaze
Above the startled world.
No more around its towering staff
The folds shall twine again
Till falls beneath its righteous wrath
The gonfalon of Spain.
That flag with constellated stars
Shines ever in the van!
And, like the rainbow in the storm,
Presages amid peace the to cannons’ man.
For still roar
It sanctifies the light,
And flames along the battle lines,
The emblem of the Right.
It seeks no conquest—knows no fear;
Cares not for pomp of state;
As pliant as the atmosphere,
As resolute as Fate.
Where'er it floats, on land or sea,
N<5 stain its honor mars,
And Freedom smiles, her fate secure
Beneath its steadfast stars.
—Henry Lynden Flash, in New Orleans
Times-Democrat.
• * fl mflN WON HER. \ *
*
It’s an awkward thing when master
and man are in love with the same
girl. One must give tfay, yon see!
And if the master is that one it’s apt
to be bad for the man. Knowing this,
John Adams and Emily Bolton re¬
solved to keep their engagement to
themselves for a bit, until they could
start in life on their own account..
Why the girl had fallen in love with
the man instead of his master it would
puzzle a conjurer to toll. I’m sure
she couldn’t have said herself. It
was he, John Adams, who suggested
secrecy, and Emily, after a little dis¬
pute, agreed.
Emily accepted John about Christ¬
mastime, and he urged that it would
be ruin to be discharged in the slack
time.
“We’il keep it to ourselves till the
sprih)*, my girl, and then we can snap
our fingers at him,” said John.
But Emily had no desire to snap
4|pv fingers at Reuben Saunders. She
as not built that way. She felt sorry
for him, and wished him all manner
of good things. Still she was in love
with John, and consequently did as
he told her.
But long before the spring tjame—
in fact, it was the middle of February
—it began to be rumored about that
John and Emily were engaged. Reuben
heard the report, and went straight¬
way to her father’s cottage and asked
to see Emily.
Mrs. Bolton opened the door. She
stepped back and called up the stairs:
“Em’ly, Em’ly! Here’s Mr. Saun-
' ders wants to-see yer. ”
And then she went about her work
and left him standing at the open door.
She for her part preferred Reuben to
John as a husband for her pretty
daughter. That she was the girl’s
another and knew the value of money
py its lack may account for her pre¬
ference. Moreover, Reuben was as
good a man as John, though not so
handsome'.
“I’ve only come to ask you a ques¬
tion, Emily,” said Rueben humbly
when at last the gill appeared.
“Say on,” said Emily, not quite at
her ease, for there had been a time
when she had given Reuben encour¬
agement.
“I beur that 3*011 and John
are going to be married.” And Rueben
lifted his honest eyes and looked the
girl straight in the face.
“I don’t see what business that is
of yours! I suppose we’ve a right”—
began the girl angrily.
But before she could finish her sen¬
tence Rueben said sadly, “I’ve got my
answer,” and turned away.
The girl’s heart smote her.
“Stay, Rueben, stay! It’s not my
fault. I did not want to keep it from
you. But—John said-”
Emily stopped. The meanness of
it ail ashamed her.
“I know, I know! Adams judged
me by himself, and thought I should
turn him off as soon as I heard of it,”
said Saunders, bitterly.
Of coux'se, John’s sweetheart fired
up at that.
“If you’ve got anything to say
against John, you eau say it to some
one else, Mr. Saunders,” she cried
-out.
“I haven’t!” he shouted back, strid¬
ing off down the little path to the
front gate as Emily slammed the door.
“I’ll give him a week^s wages and
turn him off',” Reuben told himself
passionately. Then Emily’s, sweet
face rose before him. “I can’t do it
—I can’t do it!” he muttered as he
strode on, his hands deep down in his
trousers pockets, his head beut .for-
THE TRIBUNE.
“Don’t Give Up tHe SHip.”
BUCHANAN. FH1DAY, JUNE 24. 1898.
Avard on his chest, a nobler man than
he thought himself.
II.
It Avas with a heavy heart th*t
Emily Avent to meet her lover the next
day, which was Saturday, aud there¬
fore a half holiday. She had not seen
him since she had told Reuben of
their engagement, aud Avas afraid to
hear what Reuben might have said to
John about it.
The first sight of John’s face when
they met reassured her. As I said be¬
fore, he was a handsome young man,
aud as he came smilingly up to her
Emily felt certain that she loved him
dearly, and that he was in every way
a more desirable man than Saunders.
Which, strange to say, was not what
she ahvays thought about him in his
absence. After their usual greeting
they turned aud walked on together.
“The boss has been very civil to me
this morning,” said John, “called me
into that little office of his and said Ire
thought as he’d heard of a place as’d
suit me. Kind of foreman’s place
doAvn in the shires; a place called Bur¬
dock, I think he said.”
“Oh, John, how good of him!” ex¬
claimed the girl.
“H’m, ” said John, with a conceited
smile: “don’t you see he Avants to get
rid of me —wants me out o’ the Avay
so he can come after you.”
. “No—no; he knoAvs better.”
“He’s a precious sight conceited to
knoAV better. Lor’.I did laugh in my
sleeve as I thanked him, and said as
I’d be glad if he’d speak a word for
me. If I get it Ave’ll be married right
aAvav. Noav yo* see how wise it Avas
of me to insist on you saying nothing
about our being engaged.”
“You’re quite wrong!” cried Emily,
Avho had in vain tried to interrupt the
floAV of her sweetheart’s words. “It’s
because he knows, He came aud
asked me yesterday and I told him!”
“You told him we Avas going to be
married?”
“Yes, I told him,” repeated Emily.
“Well, I’m bloAved!” Aud John
looked as if after that nothing would
surprise him any more, Then after
a feAV minutes’ consideration: “He
must be a fool!” he exclaimed.
To this Emily vouchsafed no reply,
so John, not exactly understanding
her silence, changed the subject by
saying:
“E’m, you’ve often wanted to go
over the old Manor House, aud you
Avon’t have many more chances if I
get this place. Shall Ave go now 1 '”
Emily agreed. She knew the care¬
taker, so there would be no difficulty
iu getting in.
III.
They had wandered about the old
place for twenty minutes, and had been
everywhere except up in the towers,
which Avas the oldest part of the house.
It had been shut up'from the public,
as dangerous, for the last two years.
John proposed that they should go up
to the top and see the view. Emily
Avas frightened, but he laughed her
out of her fears, or out of the expres¬
sion of them. So they Avent up, and
John, Avho was in a teasing mood, in¬
sisted ou their getting out on thetoof,
which Avas done by means of a short
ladder, leading through a trail door.
Though the day Avas warm for the
time of year, Emily soon felt bitterly
cold, and said she must go down.
John led the Avay, but had hardly got
his foot off the last rung of the ladder
Avhen he felt tbe tOAver begin to rock.
With the impulse of a coAvard, scarce •
staying to give a hasty shout to Emily
to folloAv, he rushed down the stone
stairs and out of the place. A, mo¬
ment later there Avas a series of creak¬
ing reports, and three sides of the
building fell with a crash to the ground,
leaving Emily oroucliing down in a
corner of the roof, Avhich still hung to
the remaining side.
Adams ran into the road shouting
for a ladder. Soon a croAvd Avas col¬
lected and the ladder Avas fetched.
Too short! Another Avas fodnd, aud
while willing hands were lashing the
ladder together Reuben drove up in
his cart.
When he heard what had happened
he took John’s place in binding the
ladders together, saying: ,
“You go and tell her what we’re
doing. I’ll see to this.”
Reuben had the habit of authority,
so John went.
When the ladders were firmly bound
Reuben aud tAvo others carried them
through the iron gates injto the little
park Avhere the crowd stood. A mixed
crowd of men, and rvomen and chil¬
dren stood breathlessly gazing up at
the corner Avhere Emily crouched, her
face covered, not seeming to hear the
encouraging words her lover was
shouting up to her.
Reuben looked at the wall. “We
must be quick,” said he to the man
next to him, “or it’ll be down before
we can get her oft’.” Then after a
moment he added: “It won’t hear the
weight of the ladder. Run and fetch
the one off my cart. ”
This Avas done,and in a few minutes
the third ladder was pushed through the
rungs of the first about four feet from
the top, making an isosceles triangle.
Tavo men Avere placed at the foot of
each ladder to steady it,and the whole
reared sideAvays against the Avail, the
apex almost touching Emily and the
upright reaching up above her head.
John hadn’t been of much help —he
Avas like one distraught, but when all
was*ready Reuben turned to him and
said:
“Now tell her to get on the ladder.
Tell her too look up aud catch hold of
the frame above her head. Tell her
she is quite safe.”
John shouted up these instructions,
but without more result than making
Emily half stretch out her hand and
shudderingly cover up her face again.
The deipou Funk possessed the girl.
Then Reuben: ,
“It’s all right, Miss Bolton. You
just get on the ladder—quick, and
you’ll be safe enough. There’s half a
dozen of us holding it at the bottom, ”
he shouted, encouragingly.
No ansAver. No mo\-ement.
JV.
Reuben turned to John once more.
“Look here, man.” he said, “yon
must go up and fetch her.”
“Ho up that ladder? It AA-ouldu’f
bear the weight of both of us. ”
“Some one must fetch her down. 11
you Avon’t, I must. ”.
“I’ll hold the ladder.”
“PsliaAv!” And Reriben turned
away. Then suddenly turning back:
“Mind you, if I get her down safe I
try my luck again.” And, shouting to
the men to hold the ladder firm, he
cautiously Avent up. touched
“Emily,’’said he,as he girl.” her,
“We must change places, my
She looked at him, her eyes wild Avith
fright. “That’s right! You keep
looking at me and doing as I tell you,
and you’ll be as safe as a trivet,” said
he, cheerfully, though his heart was
working like a steam engine. How he
managed to change places with Emily
he never knew. He ahvays said it
was her trust in him that did it. When
she Avas safe on the ladder and he
clinging to the fragment of Avail he
said, impressively: quickly
“(Jo doAvn the ladder as as
you eau I’ll folloAv. Iu tAvo minutes
the Avliole place’ll be doAvn.”
Emily gave him one swift look that
sent the blood tingling through hi3
veins, and in less than a minute she
was on the ground. John, who had
not been allowed to hold the ladders,
tried to put his arm round her, but
she pushed him from her as she
breathlessly watched Reuben’s de¬
scent. Then, turning on him:
“Go!” she cried. “Go! When I
marry, I’ll marry—I’ll marry a man!”
After that she fainted.
She did marry a man. His name
was Reuben Saunders. John Adams
got the foreman’s place iu the shires.
—Brooklyn Standard-Union.
Harness Bells.
While they are still by no means
common, there has been in the past
three months a considerable increase
in the use of harness bells iu this city.
They are attached chiefly to the har¬
ness of horses driven to carriages..
While this increase may be due in
some measure to the following of cus¬
tom, the purpose of the bells is to give
Avarning of the vehicle’s approach,
such Avarning having become more
and more necessary owing to the
greatly increased use of rubber-tired
Avheels, aud rubber-padded shoes for
horses, following the widespread in¬
crease of asphalt pavement. When
all these causes combine the approach
of horses and vehicles is made com¬
paratively noiseless. The bells are as
yet chiefly used ou private carriages,
but they are occasionally seen on pub¬
lic carriages, mostly hansoms.
The bells most commonly used are
like those made for sleighs and gilt-
finished or, silver-plated to match the
furniture of the harness. In pair
horse harness the bell is buckled to
the coupling links that attach the
hames together ; in single horse har¬
ness it is attached to the hame chain
or martingale ring. is
The use of harness bells far more
common in Paris aud London, in both
of which cities it is required by law.
—New York Sun.
CAVE DWELLERS OF ALASKA.
Queer People Who Inhabit King’s Island
in the liering Sea.
A race of cave dwellers live ou a
small island off the Alaskan coast. It
is King’s Island in Bering # sea, due
south of Cape Prince of Wales. There
is only one village there, aud this has
a population of 200 . Dr. Sheldon
Jackson, the United States agent of
education in Alaska,says that it is one
of the most remark', ble settlements in
America, yet few people know of its
existence.
King’s Island is about a mile in
length, and is a mass of basalt rock
which rises perpendicularly out of the
sea to a height of from 700 to 1000
feet. At the south side this is cleff
in two by a deep ravine which is filled
by a huge permanent snow bank.
High up ou the west side of the ravine
is the village of Ouk-ivak, Avliieh con¬
sists of about forty dwellings, partly
hollowed out of the cliff and built up
outside with stone walls. Across the
top of these walls are laid large drift
wood poles, over these are placed
hides, aud over the hides grass and
dirt. The houses are entered by a
tunnel which runs along underneath
sometimes for a distance often of fif¬
teen feet, and ends under a hole—
eighteen inches in diameter— in the
floor of the room above. This is the
front door of the establishment. The
tunnel is so low that it is necessary to
§toop, and often to eyawl, the entire
length of it.
In summer these houses generally,
become too damp to live in. The peo¬
ple then erect another dwelling on top;
this is a tent of walrus hide which is
stretched over a wooden frame aud
guyed to the rocks by ropes to pre¬
vent its being blown off into the sea.
These tents alloAv of a room about ten
or fifteen foot Square,' and entered by
means of a yarrow oval hole in the
hide about two feet above the floor.
A narrow platform tAvo feet wide runs
along outside of the door and leads
back to the lull. These platforms are
often fifteen or twenty feet above tho
winter dAvelling below.
At the other side of the deep ra¬
vine at the base of tbe cliff', is a huge
cavern into Avkicli the sea dashes. At
the back of this is a large bank of per¬
petual snow. The cave dwellers use
this as a storehouse. They dig rooms
in the suoav and store their provisions,
Avkiek freeze solid and keep the year
round, for the temperature in the snow
never rises above 32 degrees.
Bicycle Heart.
Several Avell-kuoAvn cyclists have
lately, it is said, been rejected as un¬
fit for military service by reason of
hypertrophy and other diseases of the
heart. Medical men will he rather
surprised that the numbers are so
small. There must be few of ns Avho
have not seen the ill-effects of over¬
exertion on a bicycle. The common¬
est is palpitation and temporary dila¬
tation ; but even this is sometimes
very difficult to cure. In a ease which
occurred recently a lady, ordered for
a fortnight’s change of air after influ¬
enza, chose to spend it in bicycling
about fifty miles a day. As a result,
she has had, ever since that time—
uoav nine months ago —a pulse Avhich
on the least exertion rises to 120,
though she has not ridden again. That
temporary dilatation occurs is enough
to shoAv the great strain put upon the
heart, and it is an added danger that
the sense of fatigue in the limbs is so
slight. The rider is thus robbed of
the warning to Avkicli he is accustomed
to attend, and repeats or continues
the strain upon the heart. As in other
similar cases, the effect is to render
that dilatation permanent, Avhich Avas
at first but temporary, and to cause an
increase in the muscle of the heart by
repeated exertion. The heart pro¬
duced is of large dimensions, and of
thick Avails—a condition Avkiek may,
perhaps, give little uneasiness to its
OAvner, but Avhich a medical man will
vieAv Avith considerable distrust aud
apprehension. Weakly and elderly
people cannot be too often told that no
exercise is more easily abused, though
if taken in sensible measure feAV are
more healthful or enjoyable.—British
Medical Journal.
The Military Spirit.
“I have just come from the oil re¬
gions,” remarked the Casnul Caller
to the Snake Editor, “and 1 find that
the Avar feeling has got into the pe¬
troleum producing business.”
“Hoav is that? } 5
“Drilliug Chronicle-Telegraph. is going on actively.”—
Pittsburg
The hottest region is on the south¬
western coast of Persia, where Persia
borders the gulf of the same name.
NO. 29.
WHITE HOUSE WAR CHAMBER.
Tho President'* Facilities for Obtaining
News From the Front.
A war chamber has been established
at the White House. A force of work¬
men, including electricians, have been
employed transforming the room for¬
merly occupied by Private Secretary
Porter into a presidential war cham¬
ber. The room faces south and it is
contiguous to the president’s business
office and the cabinet-room. War maps
of Cuba, the West Indies, and the en¬
tire eastern and western hemispheres
have been arranged upon the walls for
the convenience of the president.
Three sets of telegraphic instruments
have been placed in the room for the
transmission of information to the
president direct from ail points of the
globe.
While the war is going on a new set
of rules will be in force at the execu¬
tive mansion. ,The “war chamber”
will be locked from the inside, so that
the doorway through which visiting
statesmen have hitherto passed en
route to the president's room is block¬
aded until further orders. Arthur
Simmons, the sable messenger who
guards Private Secretary Porter’s door,
is to be moved down to the president’s
door, on which a pass key and lock
has been placed. Captain Loeffler
will coutinue as outside guardiun to
the cabinet room as of old. 4 spring
lock will also be placed upon the cab¬
inet door, so that senators, represen¬
tatives and'' previously other privileged Tiad callers,,
who have free access
to these rooms, will have to be an¬
nounced or wait until the latch is
lifted before they are allowed to reach,
the president.
The reason given for this new rule
of practice and the precautions, which
Favpr of exclusiveness, is that the
president desires eve; y reasonable
facility for obtaining information from
the front. The cabinet room, his pri¬
vate office, and the “war chamber” are
a consecutive suit. It is not always
convenient fgr the president to cross
tho corridor to visit the executive tele¬
graph office. As a matter of conven¬
ience to the president and the mem¬
bers of the cabinet, Private Secretary
Porter vacated his office and moved
over to the room formerly used as the
telegraph office. Now the president
will have free and unobstructed access
to the rooms running along the south¬
ern front of the mausion. The re-
strictions temporarily placed on offi¬
cial visitors will prevent the president at'
and his callers from embarrassment
periods when it may be necessary for
the president to deny himself to even
his best friends. Hitherto it has been
the practice for senators and repre¬
sentatives to walk right in to the pres¬
ident’s room without knocking. The
new arrangement may prove a little
irritating at first, but it is believed
that reasonable men will appreciate
the necessity for the change under ex¬
isting circumstances. — Washington
Correspondence Charleston News aud
Courier.
Re vivni of Creosote.
Little by little, for years, creosote
has been making steady progress in
the physician’s regard as a favorite
remedy in certain pathological condi¬
tions. But, suddenly, and almost
without intimation of its newly ac¬
quired force, it has sprung into re¬
markable prominence. Everywhere
the men of standing in tne medical
profession are using it and* for a
variety of diseases which no one would
have believed possible in its early
therapeutic history.
Admitting, as in the case of all
remedies that come to the front with a
rush, that the extent aud variety of
its usefulness is overstated, there still
remains a sufficiently extended field
in a\ liich it can be successfully em¬
ployed, to constitute it one of the
most effective agents known to medical
science.
One of the most interesting facte
about creosote is that it has a wider
range of usefulness therapeutically
than is commonly believed. In spite
of the fact that it is in large doses an
irritant in the stomach, in small doses
it is one of the best antifermentatives
known. It is invaluable in the treat¬
ment of constipation and its powerful
antiseptic qualities make it unsur¬
passed in the treatment of either in¬
ternal or external abscesses or ulcers.
—Public Health Journal.
Fsun>lnjf a Privilege.
A clever mot was made by a mem¬
ber of Parliament during another
member’s prosy speech. The latter
happening to yawn during his re¬
marks, the other commented: “This
man is not without taste, but he
usurps our privilege. ”—Argonaut.