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YOL. I.
DAUGHTERS OF AMERICA.
Bing out, ye bells, your sweetest chimes;
Sing, all ye poets, dulcet rhymes;
Shout loud, ye crowds, in strongest praise;
Shine out, fair sun, in softest rays,
And dance ye rippling waters.
For Freedom's sons will sing a song,
That in a chorus, high aud strong,
Shall sounding ring, from sea to sea,
Whose theme of harmony shall be,
America’s true daughters.
Ohl they ore loynl, brave and true,
And fair the red, and white, and blue,
That in the nation’s colors rise,
Shine in their cheeks, and brows, and eyes,
And glow upon their banners.
From ocean shore to mountain crest;
From north, and south, and east, and west;
From all the bright and beauteous land,
They com^, a blessing-laden hosannahs. baq.d.
And singing sweet
With cheering words from such a mouth t
As thine, oh! daughter of the south!
And love from daughter such a loyal breast, westl
As thine, oh! of the
The sons oan never falter.
And while in north and east shall stand
The earnest, helping, sister band,
•Sweet Freedom’s day shall know bright no night,
But ever shall the flame glow
Upon the country’s altar.
* A Tragedy of the Thames.
• •
t
m
I.
The two tall standard lamps in
Mount’s resort on board the Primrose
shed a cheerful light on the cosy sur¬
roundings. A fire was burning bright¬
ly in the grate at the farmer end,
and, to accentuate the sense of com¬
fort, the cold, treacherous stream be¬
neath was lapping aud gurgling under
the stout bottom boards.
For days the river, swollen by win¬
ter streams, had been carrying down
great blocks of ice and frozen snow
from the upper reaches, and on this
particular evening London was
smothered in a dense black fog. So
intense was it that, looking through
the window, it was impossible to see
the little wharf light a few feet away.
Silently and suddenly it had crept
forward all through the winter’s day,
gradually enveloping everything, like
the visible embodiment of some dread¬
ful plague. Denser and darker it
grew as the night closed in; wreaths
of it circled and eddied round the dim
street lamps; it crept under ill-fitting
doors, and through the tightly-closed
windows; until even in the sung par¬
lor of the Primrose,it made the lights
burn less brightly, and the polished
metal work glint a little more dimly
in the firelight.
“Curious thing,” said Mount,break¬
ing a luxurious silence—“curious
thing how that fellow Dortheim
managed to get away?,’
“Eh?” said I drowsily, and waking
up; for, to tell the truth, I was half
asleep when he spoke. “Oh, ah! —
yes, very.”
“I heard from Carter’s again today,”
Mount continued. “The police have
tried their very utmost; but they
simply can’t get hold of the faintest
trace.”
< This was apropos of the breaking
up of the river swindler’s gang, of
which Dortheim was the head, some
fortnight or more ago. On an{l the infor¬
mation with which Mount I had
been able to supply them, the police
had raided Dortheim’s store, and effec¬
tually broken up the whole crew of
them, besides recovering a large
amount of. stolen property ; but Dor¬
theim himself had managed to escape
at the last moment through a sliding
panel, and got away.
“By the way, ” I asked, “did they
find out where that emergency exit of
Dortheim’^ led to?”
“Yes; it was rather a cute con¬
trivance; it gave into an old-fashioned.:
disused chimney, with a ladder in* it.
At the foot of the ladder was a crude
tunnel—I should think Dortheim had
made it himself—which ran under tlffi
road into the block of houses opposite;
and once there he was as safe as if he
was in Africa. There are hundreds
of different exits from the place, so
it’s little wonder they missed f him.
But what I cannot understand is how
it is that they’ve heard nothing of him
since. It’s all very well, you ' hear
people talk and say, that it’s the easiest
thing in the world to disappear, and
that a simple.disguise and a little pre¬
caution are all that is necessary, and
so on. Well, that’s all sight as long
as no one cares’twopence whether you
disappear or not, if it amuses you so
to do. But it’s quite another kind of
game when you’ve got the whole of
Scotland Yard at your heels simply
tearing their liair to get hold of you,
when your description; usual haunts,
acquaintances and such-like are all
duly entered on the official list, and
when a slight mistake will end a visit,
to the hangman.”
THE TRIBUNE
“Don’t Give Up tin© Sliip.”
BUCHANAN, GA., FRIDAY, AUGUST 26, 1898.
“I’ve not yet noticed that Master
Dortheim is any particular variety of
fool,” I interjected. “And as long as
there is a way of evading the gentle
police, I should imagine Dortheim to
be its probable ‘inventor. > >i
“That’s true enough. Give the ras¬
cal his due. I grant that the man is
as cute a scoundrel as ever breathed,
but he must be keeping precious quiet
to evade such an exhaustive search as
they are makiflg for him. ”
“What do you think he’s probably
doiii"?”
“Well,” said Mount, with a laugh,
“it may sound absurd, but to tell the
truth 1 am a little uneasy. 1 believe
that the brute is watching a chance to
get his knife into me before he makes
a final bolt for it. You see, it is prac¬
tically entirely my fault that he is in
all this trouble. Mouths and months
ago quite accidentally I stumbled across
the fact of the existence of this man
and his company of fellow ruffians. I
wasn’t on the lookout for him in the
very least. It was sheer luck on my
part, but ever since then, in nine
cases out of ten, I’ve had the whip
hand of him, and, of course, he’s feeling
pretty sure about the raid of the other
day.
“At first he did not know who it was
who was working against him, but I
couldn’t keep in the dark forever, and
directly he knew he began to take re¬
prisals, as you saw for yourself when
you arrived so happily at Steppings’
flat. I admit that it sounds fantastic
enough that a man whose life is in
momentary danger at the hands of the
common hangman should worry him¬
self about anything more than an un¬
obtrusive departure. But you know
what vindictive animals some men are;
they never forget an injury, and
sooner or later they’ll have a try at
you.
“But it’s not only that. Yesterday,
as I was coming home rather late,
I caught sight of a figure lurking about
here that I rather fancy was Dortheim
or his twin brother. I gave chase, but,
what with my lame leg and the dark¬
ness the fellow got away. This morn¬
ing I had some neat little brass bolts
screwed on to the hatchway, and I
think I shall have the shutters looked
to. I am ashamed to confess that the
man is getting on my nerves—he is so
duced artful one can never tell quite
what he will be up to.”
II.
When Mount had finished speaking
he sat and stared gloomily into the
fire. It was evident that he was
weary—more so than I should have
expected in a mau who was usually
pretty well indifferent to danger.
But for real nerve-straining work
which makes .your courage ooze ont of
your finger tips, there is nothing like
living for a week or two in constant
expectation of—you don’t know ex¬
actly what; when any minute some¬
thing may spring ont of somewhere
and take you where you least expect
it. You can’t give it a name, and you
can’t quite explain, but the result iu
the end is los.s of nerves.
I felt quite shivery myself Everything as I sat
there watching Mount.
was so deathly still,!and. over- every¬
thing and around everything and
through everything tli'ere lay that hor¬
rible, dark, unclean fog, It lurked iu
the corners of the place, making the
shadows deeper. It got into one’s
throat and into one’s eyes, and de¬
pressed one like an evil dream. And
as I sat there, listening vaguely, I
shuddered; and, remembering /D.or-
theim’s face a3 I had- last seen it, I
shuddered again.
How loug the intense silence had
lasted I don’t know, it might have
been .five minutes, it might have been
an hour. Anyhow, after a certain
lapse of time, I became dimly con¬
scious of a,-faint, regular noise, like the
gentle scraping of a boat’s gunwale
against-thfijside of tie barge as it
swayed gently on the tide. ,
might'have-been I could not say how long the noise
going on, or when it
had gradually; began/ I simply remember that
quite gradually, I became
of it, and then all of a sudden,
with a start, I realized the meaning of
it.
Mount’s-iwo boats were,I knew,laid
up for the winter under canvas on the
upper deck, but the noise was unmis¬
takably -mMe ’ by a boat scraping
against the barge. And—well, and
there was JDortbeini!
I leant forward in my chair aud
touched Mount on the arm. I saw
him start convulsively at the pressure;
and bis farther hand slid into his coat
pocket. The man’s nerves were posi¬
tively on the rack.
“Listen!” I whispered, holding up
my finger to enjoin silence.
We both sat with strained ears, and
there it came again—scrape, scrape!
bump, bump!—at regular intervals.
Mount sprang from his chair and
crept noiselessly to the hatchway. I
followed close behind, having armed
myself with a thick stick. Together
we crouched in the shadow of the
door, while Mount gently slid back
the bolts. The door was one that
opened outwards, thus affording any¬
one coming from within partial pro¬
tection—a fact that Mount has to be
thankful /of for the rest of his days.
He thrust the door open sharply, and
stepped out into the darkness with his
arm well to the front, and at that in¬
stant there was a crash, a tinkle of
.broken glass, and something liquid
and burning splashed on my hand. I
heard a yell of rage from Mount, and
saw him spring forward.
“Vitriol!” he said. And with that
I, too, sprang out, with my head low
and^overed v bymj ann. ’ f
. ,, , 1
hard , i t breathing .i • and i see a confused
mass whirling about perilously nea
the edge, but winch was friend and
which foe Icouldnot make outat first,
As , got , accustomed , i to . the
mv eyes
darkness, I saw that Mount had got
one hand twisted in his assailant’s
collar, while with the other he held
*•
III.
Dortheim—for he it was—was fight-
ing like a demon. I could see his
broad shoulders heave and strain with
every movement. But Mount was
mad with rage and pain—a. consider-
able quantity of the vitriol had
splashed over him, and he was in hor-
rible agony from the burning acid;
azid so the two swayed backward and
forward, so closely intertwined that I
could not render assistance.
Presently Mount shouted: “Knock _
it out of his hand, Lascelles! Knock
it out of his hand!. My leg is giving!”
And then for the first time I realized
why it was Mount struggled to hold
his adversary’s hand so high. Dor-
theim had got a second glass bomb
filled with vitriol, and Mount daren’t
release his grip.
I made a grab at the man’s arm, in-
tending either to make him leave go
or break his wrist. But just as I did
so I heard a cry from Mount, and saw
him go down. His wounded leg,which
had burst out bleeding afresh, had
given under him. Dortheim’s arm
naturally jerked back, and I missed
my hold. At the same iqstant he
gave a horrible scream, and, putting
his hand to his eyes, fell head foremost
into the river below.
I heard his body strike a projecting
corner of the lower deck. There was
a splash aud in an instant he was
whirled away out of sight into the
black fog.
With a word to Mount I hurried to
the boat, which I found moored to the
stern, and casting loose pulled franti¬
cally down stream, but after ten minutes
it was evident that there was no chance
of finding him alive or dead in that
inky darkness—iu fact, it was with
the greatest difficulty that I was able
to get back to the barge in safety.
. Mount had escaped permanent in¬
jury by a miracle. As it was, the acid
had scarred his temple and hands
badly, but owing partly to the fact of
the door opening outward and partly
because he had naturally emerged in
a stooping attitude (the doorway being
a low one), the full charge had missed
liis face, and,- beyond the awful pain
at first, he was, comparatively little
damaged.
Dortheim’s body was picked up the
next day in a fearful condition. How
it happened exactly I cannot tell, but
I imagine that the sudden release of
liis wrist caused him to grip the frail
glass vessel so tightly that it broke,
aud the acid fell straight on his up¬
turned face, blinding'him instantly. I
shall never forget the poor wretch’s
screams as he fell. It may have been
retribution, but it was none the less
horrible, aud I can’t think of it with-
shuddering. '
out
However, such was the death of one
of the cleverest scoundrels of the
period, aud the leader and organizer
of Dortheim & Co.—Answers.
Chinese Sti’eets.
A Chinese thoroughfare is the ex¬
act reverse of ours in shape, the middle
part being considerably higher than
the two pavements on each side. In
the rainy season, if a vehicle should
slip, the occupants run considerable
risk of being smothered iu the mud
and water which always accumulate at
that period. .»
WHEN A BIG GUN COES OFF.
Scientific Men I>o Not Know Ail That
Takes Place—Avoiding the Shock.
Not one man in ten thousand lias a
clear idea of just what happens when
a big cannon is fired. The physical
manifestations are numerous. Even
professors of chemistry and physics are
stumped when they want to differenti¬
ate all the gases set loose aud the pe¬
culiar effects they induce. The puff
of whitish smoke, the flash of tire, the
dim image of the flying projectile, the
roar aud the recoil are all familiar,but
back of these is a complex mass of
phenomena most bewildering to the
mind of any but an artillery expert.
First, the cubes, disks, hexagons or
irregular lumps of powder are chemi¬
cally transformed into a powerful, ex¬
panding gas the instant firing takes
place. Then there are innumerable
by-products that even chemists do not
understand.
The explosion of gunpowder is
divided into three distinct stages,
combustion. The ignition ° is the set-
K fire of tlie flr8t gl . airi) whi le
the iuflammation is the spreading of
y ie fl " ame over the tlie suitace sm . face of ot the tlie dow- pow
der from the ,f point ot ignition. ° Com-
, bu9 tl0u .. . the , bm> . of » eacb ,
» ““8 ll ?
. Tbe T“\ . ^POjrdet ,
f u « 0 is
due to the + . fact that when subjected to
" it
so-called explosion that takes place
when a match is touched to gunpow-
( j ei . j s merely a chemical change, dur¬
j U g -which there is a sudden evolution
0 f gases from the original solid,
it has heeu calculated that ordinary
gunpowder on exploding expands
about 9000 times or fills a space this
much larger as a gas than when in a
solid form. When this chemical change
takes place in a closed vessel the ex¬
pansion may be made to do a work
like that of forcing a projectile along
the bore of the great gun or test tube
j u the line of least resistance,
The hardest work a gunner is called
upon to do is to stand the tremendous
shock. The forces exerted by these
gases in expanding seem to radiate in
a p directions from the cannon, as rip-
pies are caused by dropping a pebble
i u a pool of still water. As a matter
of fact, it has been discovered that
these lines of forces are exceedingly
complicated affairs, and play very
queer pranks about the cannon. As a
result few people know just which is
the safest or the most dangerous posi-
tion for a gunner to take beside his
gun. Iu the case of the great 13-inch
guns on oiir monitors, a position back
0 f the gun is much easier than one
nearer the muzzle.
* --liMfc
Studies in Alliteration.
Which is the letter in the alpha¬
bet that is best adapted to alliterative
purposes? A musical publisher has
issued a number of “popular pieces
prettily prepared for progressive pu¬
pils by Percival Powys.” Below is
printed: “Practice and perseverance
properly pursued procure progress.
Popular proverb.” The well known
nonsensical nursery rhyme conun¬
drum—
‘•Peter Piper picked a peck of pickling
pepper, Piper picked peck of pickling
If Peter a
peftper, pickling Peter
Where's the peck of pepper
Piper picked?”
would also seem to give the palm to
“P. ” Tlie Marquis of Bute, prime
minister at the beginning of the reign
of George III, indicated his program
by the words “Peace, prerogative nnd
purity.” But the alliterative resources
of the language are endless, as is in¬
dicated by the poem:
An Austrian army awfully arrayed.
Boldly by'battle besiege! Belgrade.
Cossack commanders cannonading come,
Dealing destruction’s devastating doom.
Every effort engineers fortune, essay, furious fray.
Fighting for fame, generals for gracious
Generals ’gainst grapple;
honorfe good!
How Heaven heroic hardihood-
And so on throughout the alphabet,
though here and there, as in the sec¬
ond word in the “G” line, there is an
excusable poetic elision of a letter.—
—London News.
On a New Steed.
The wheelman mounted liis horse.
He looked around at his fellow cavalry¬
men. There was a helpless air to
his gaze.
“Trot!” roared the drillmaster.
The wheelman fumbled wildly in
the air,
“What are you doing there, No.
4?” roared the drillmaster.
“F-feeling for the handlebar,”
shrieked the unhappy man, as he
pitched head foremost on to the tan-
bark.—Cleveland Plain Dealer.
NO. 38.
A VICTORIAN IDYL.
Charming Story in Karly Wedded Lifo
of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert.
Queen Victoria’s marriage was a
true love match, as all know, and one
of the most charming pictures of the
girl queen is presented by the roman¬
tic incident of her betrothal, when the
young queen made her offer of mar¬
riage to the handsome young Prince
Albert, son of the Duke of Saxe-Co-
burg-Saalgeld. As sbe was a sover¬
eign, the prince could not with pro¬
priety make the offer to her, and so the
blushing girl, now the woman rather
than the queen, in the presence of the
youth who had already gained her
love, forgot the sovereign as she tim¬
idly took this momentous step. But
even the most devoted married couple
will have their passing misunderstand¬
ings, and the following story is told
concerning one of tlietr youthful dis¬
agreements:
Both were high-spirited, strong of
character and tenacious of what each
considered the right iu any matter of
discussion. At one time their differ¬
ences of opinion had led to a temporary
coolness of demeanor toward each
other, and the prince had retired to his
apartments and locked the door.
Victoria was the first to yield par¬
tially, and she soon knocked at the
door of her husband’s library, affirms
Short Stories.
“Who is there?” asked the prince,
in answer to the knock.
“The queen!” replied Victoria,still
rather haughtily, though somewhat
yielding.
“The queen cannot enter,” rejoined
the prince, proudly.
A short time afterward 'Wetoria again
approached her husband’s apartments
and once again knocked for admittance.
“Who is there?”again the prince in¬
quired.
“Your wife,” replied Victoria, ia
tender tones.
Instantly the door was flung wide
open, and the prince received her in
his outstretched arms, saying with
deepest affection, “My wife is always
welcome!”—Newjfork Telegram.
Europe’s Standing Armies.
Some European countries have huge
standing armies even in time of peace.
Bussia heads the list with 85S.000
men, or nine per thousand of her pop¬
ulation. Next comes Germany with
580,000, which is thirteen per thou¬
sand, while France has 512,000, or
fourteen per thousand. The Austrian
army is 380,000, or ten per thousand;
Italy 300,000,also ten iu thethousand;
England Spain 100,000, 230,000, equally six per six thousand; thou¬
Belgium’s per
sand. aripy comprises iliou Sand 31,^ ,
000 men, 6r eight in the actually ^ and
little Switzerland musters
131,000, or forty-five per thousand.
France and Russia united can muster
iu time of peace between them 1,400,-
000 men; in time of war, 9,700,000.
The triple alliance in time of pqace
can bring together 1,192,000, or7,700,-
000 iu war time. The huge European
armaments called armies, on a peace
footing, cost $1,100,000,000 a year to
keep up. —London Sketch.
Flbrotis Covering for Bridges.
The French engineers at Ceuta,
Morocco, have resorted to old cables
of aloe fibre for footways, in the case
of wearing surfaces of footbridges ex¬
posed to heavy traffic, It seems that
elm plank on oak .stringers wore out
rapidly, aud finally, in 1894, old flat
mine cables were substituted, made
from the fibre of the aloe plant and
costing at the rate of r.'Vout four cents
a pound, their thickness ranging from
1.37 to 1.96 inches, with a mean width
of 8.65 inches. These flat cables were
thoroughly tarred and nailed down to
plank, across the axis of the bridge,
nnd the ends secured by light iron
bauds. Such footways are found to
be very elastic and lasting: they are
not slippery, and the weight is only
about ninety-two pounds to the square
yard. The finished cost is consider¬
able, amounting to about $3.76 a square
yard, but up to the present time they
show no trace of wear, notwithstand¬
ing the large passenger traffic.
A Long Memory.
“What’s the matter?” asked the
penurious landlord.
“The plaster’s fallen off the ceiling,”
said the tenant’s son.
“Well, I hope you’re satisfied. The
first thing you did when you moved
in was to complain that the ceilings
were too low. ”—Washington Star.
Tlie World's Coal.
The total area of the coal fields in
the world is estimated at 471,800
square miles.