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VOL. I
PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES.
Bee Sampson win upon the main,
And Dewey aud capture Hobson glory,
Anil Schley writ© anew
The navy’s thrilling story.
Hut lo! another ship's in sight,
That makes the blood grow warmer:
It has for skipper, blunt and bold,
Tho horny-handed farmer.
This craft is sailing proudly in,
Upon the harvest that billow; feels sad,
And not a heart is
Or wears the weed or willow.
And all the guns that blaze and roar,
From one to five and twenty,
Are not so cheery as this one—
The harvest gun of plenty.
—What to Eat.
BY MARGARET BROUXT.
With a roar and a rattle, the six
o’clock express train rushed across the
bridge that spanned the narrow- river
on the Derwent farm, near Concord,
and Alice Derwent, the farmer’s
pretty, dark-eyed daughter, stood on
the vine-shaded porch, looking after
it with an uncouscious sigh.
“So many come by you, so many go
by you, out into the great, wide,
beautiful world,” she thought, as she
gazed over the fertile valley farm and
out through the break iu the circling
blue mountains, from whence a trail
of smoke came floating back. “I
wonder if you will ever bring me any¬
thing? or carry me away? or must I
live my life out to the end, shut in by
these quiet hills?”
“Supper ready, mother?” called out
the hearty-looking farmer, halting iu
the glow of the bright firelight on the
•open hearth, as he came from fodder¬
ing the stock, followed by his sou,
Thomas, who was the living, breathing
“image of his sire.”
“To be sure it is,” replied his bust¬
ling little wife, who had just such eyes
aud hair as bonny Alice, and just the
same sweet smile. “Isn’t it always
ready, father, when the train goes by?
Come, Alice!”
' “Alice is out there looking for her
fortune, mother,” said Tom. “It is
coming by that train. I kaow all
about it.”
Alice smiled and shook her head at
her saucy brother, as she took her seat
at her father’s side.
Little did any of them think how
many n true word is spoken in jest, or
that the fortune which the evening ex¬
press was to bring the daughter of the
konse was even then nearing their
hospitable door.
fllrs. Derwent poured out the tea—
strong, hot and fragrant.
“Bquire Keaton,up iu the big house
yonder, don’t often get such tea as
this, with ail his staff of servants,”
said Toni, looking across the valley to
the brick-and-freestone palace of the
one millionaire in the village.
“Poor man!” sighed Mrs. Derwent.
“I do pity him! His wife and daugh¬
ter dead, and his only son so wild and
wilful, and a wanderer all over the
world. Only last week he told me,
with tears in his eyes, that he hail
heard of his boy, and that the young
man had been seen lately in Leadville,
intoxicated anil poorly-di'eSsed, ill a
gambling saloon. Yet, when he wrote
there —and wrote kindly—his son had
disappeared. If it was our Tom,
Elihu, I should just break my heart.
Tom if you ever do grow unsteady,
and run away like Philip Kea¬
ton, you will give your mother her
death-blow. Kemember that!”
“Thank God, it isn’t Tom, Martha!
I’m sorry, too, for the man and for the
boy. Mr. Seaton owns that he turned
his son out of his house in New York,
in a fit of anger, aud that the boy
swore never to enter his house again.
Bad temper on both sides, you see;
and so—Why, Martha, what on earth
is that?”
Farmer Derwent might well ask the
question, and rush from the
to the door, followed by his wonder¬
ing wife and children.
A procession of four of his neigh¬
bors ivas coming up from his garden
gate. At the gate stood a horse and
a light express wagon, and from the
w'agon the four men had lifted an in¬
animate body, aud were bearing it to¬
ward the house.
“The six o’clock express has run off
the track a mile or two up the valley,”
said Deacon Jones, as he and his two
sons and his brother-in-law reached
the porch with their senseless burden.
“Ever so many people hurt, but able
to go on as soon as they got righted.
But this poor fellow is so nearly dead
that we thought we had better bring
him here, being as it was the nearest
THE TRIBUNE 9
“Don’t Give Up tlio Sliip.”
BUCHANAN, GA., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 1898.
house, and send for the doctor. We
knew that your wife could nurse him
back into health again if any one
could, Mr. Derwent.”
“You’re right there, neighbors.
Bring him in, ” said the farmer.
His wife led the way to the best
bedroom, next the parlor. Tom sprang
on the back of his swift sorrel colt,
and set off for the doctor.
Half an hour later the 6 upper table
was cleared, and Alice Derwent sat
pensively by the kitchen fire, while
her father and mother were busy with
the doctor in the spare-room; and
Tom, hurrying to and fro, on their
errands, stopping once or twice to in¬
form her that the stranger was young
and handsome, but dressed like a
laborer, and that the doctor said “it
was a near chance whether he lived or
died.”
Two weeks passed on. The doctor
came and went each day; the neigh¬
bors far and near volunteered their
services—all except Squire Seaton,
who lived his usual secluded life in
his great mansion, buried in his books
aud knew nothing of the stranger
who lay at death’s door,
* “Poor boy! Alice, I wish you would
go in and sit beside him awhile,” said
Mrs. Derwent, on the first evening of
the third week of illness, “He is
asleep now. If he wakes you can call
me. If we only knew his people. I
would send for them. I fear he will
not last long.”
Alice went in, and took her place
in the nurse’s chair. Tears of pity
dimmed her eyes as she looked at the
wasted figure in the bed—the pale,
thin face, the fast-closed eyes, the
hollow temples under the waving
brown hair.
“I wish his mother or father could
come!” she said aloud.
The heavy lids opened. Two deep-
blue eyes looked at her imploringly.
“My father!” whispered the sick
man. “Bring him—tell him—I was
coming—Seaton—Seaton—”
The faint voice died away. The eyes
again were closed.
Alice stood an instantlike onestruck
dumb. She had never noticed the re¬
semblance before, but now she could
trace the firm lines of the okl squire’s
countenance in that jmle, pinched
face.
“.Sleeping still? That is a good
sign,” said her mother, coming in,
ready to resume her place for the
night.
Alice hesitated fora moment. Never
before had she acted by or for herself
in any matter of moment.
But the sound of voices might
arouse the slumberer. Her father and
Tom had gone on a household errand
to the village; there was 110 one else
to consult.
Finally she threw on her water¬
proof, drew its heavy hood over her
head, and sped across the valley to
Squire Seaton’s house.
Even the well-trained servant wore
an astonished face as he ushered this
mysterious visitor into his master’s
study.
Squrie Seaton looked up from his
book, and his usual pallor increased to
a ghastly hue as he listened to the
breathless girl.
“My son—my boy—ray Philip at
your father’s house? And dying, you
fear? Asking fofjiie? Coming-to me?
Wait! I’ll go with you, of course—I’ll
go to my poor boy! But—the room is
turning sound—I think I must be
going blinil!”
Alice sprang to his side. The gray
head fell on her shoulder. Tenderly
she smoothed the silvery hair, away
from the high forehead, and bathed
the pale face with the cold water and
fragrant essences which the frightened
servant brought.
The old man revived to find her
ministering to him thus. And it was
almost like fattier and daughter that
they took their way across the valley
together, he ieaniug-on her arm, and
listening greedily to all that she could
tell him of his long-absent, long-
son.
“It is my father’s voice! I hear his
step! I shall get well, if he will only
forgive me!” said the invalid, greatly
to Mrs. ‘Derwentvr. surprise, as the
house-door softly opened to a
stranger’s touch.
He struggled up from his pillows,
resisting her attempt to soothe him.
“Father, Ism sorry—forgive me!”
he said, in a firmer boice, as Alice en¬
tered, followed by t,ic aged man.
And then Squire Seaton came,feebly
but swiftly into the ripovn, and held
his son to his heart, subbing aloud
with gratitude and joy, l while Alice
drew her bewildered mother Expedition into the
kitchen and told of her to
tho house of the lonely millionaire.
Joy seldom kills; and tliiere is a ra-
vivifying powe'r In love and happiness
combined, far beyond the skill of all
earthly physicians, or the virtue of all
earthly drugs.
So it happened that, as the spring
months deepened into summer, Philip
Seaton, strong and well once more,
stood, beside bonny Alice, in the porch
one evening, to Bee tlio six o’clock ex¬
press flash by.
“At Leadville, when I was utterly
reckless, and utterly penniless, too,
a letter from my father reached me,”
he said, in a low tone. “It was so
kind, so sad, that it seemed to turn
me from my old courses on the
moment. Just as I was—in the
rough garments of a miner —I set off
to return to my father, like the prodi¬
gal son. And God led me here!”
There was a long silence; the sun
sauk out of sight beyond the circling
mountains; the first chill of evening
was in the air.
“In my auger I swore that I would
never enter the door of my father’s
home,’’the young man weuton. “But,
it was not this home! Hero I may
enter, purified, repentant, forgiven, if
only the good angel of my new life
will go with mo. Will she, Alice?”
He took her hand.
“But your father [’’stammered Alice.
“I am only a farmer’s daughter! And
you—”
“I am not worthy of your love in
any way. Bnt my father begs you to
be his daughter, Alice. Hay yes!”
She did say it. And so the greatest
fortune of her life—the brightest
happiness of both their lives —came
on that evening train.—Saturday
Night.
CAPITAL OF CENTRAL AFRICA.
Recent History of Fashoda, Where Mar-
chand Is Established,
Fashoda, to which the attention of
the world has been directed as the
supposed point of establishment of a
French expedition hostile to the pur-
poses and plans of Great Britian-iu
Central Africa, is the capital of the
Shilluk country. In 1845 it was an-
nexed l>y Egypt to the government of
Khartoum, aud was used as a place of
transportation for political prisoners
and galley slaves. “It is said,” writes
Gessi Pacha, who was governor of the
Bahr-el-Gliazal under Gordon, in
Seven Fears in the Soudan, that
anyone sent to lasnoda never ie-
turns. The .climate is unhealthy, the
air pestilential, and it laiely happens
that a condemned prisoner survives
the effects of the privitations of the
place.
. .
When Gessi _ first visited Fashoda
he found no political prisoners there,
but there were about two hundred
couvicts working at the galleys.
There were a few shops slenderly sup-
plied with articles at a high price.
These were for the most part kept by
Greeks. The commandant of the place,
Lieutenaut Colonel Yiissuf Bey, was
then doing his best to improve the
city, bnt with little snccoss. At that
time the surrounding territory yielded
only a few hippopotamus hides, anil
the officials and residents were chietiy
occupied by the slave tiade. tqg.vst
soon made an end of this. ,
At thg lastance of Gordon the ile-
sceudant of the sultans of the Shilluks
was made bey of Fashoda, with a high
salary, and was spe iaily charged to
suppress slavery, from which his fel-
low tribesmen had suffered. The
market, which formerly was full of
slight huts, in which the Jelabba kept
their slaves,was abolished,and slavery
was publicly prohibited.
After the fall of Lupton, who sue-
ceeded Gessi as governor, Fashoda
with the rest of the Bahr-el-Ghazal
province fell into tho - hands of the
Mahdists. According to Father Ohr-
walder, Fashoda then became an im¬
portant centre of the cereal trade.
The supplies of corn received at that
town at one time saved Omdurman
from absolute starvation. Up to 1889
Fashoda continued the supply, most
of the native cultivators receiving in
exchange glass beads,pieces of copper,
iron cowries, and old Medjidie dol-
lavs. The Khalifa subsequently des-
patched Zeki Tummal and an armv
from Galabat to attach Fashoda and
its people. The town and surrounding
country wore ravaged and ruined by
this incursion.
A Convenient Device.
Hot cars of corn can be eaten with •
out touching with the bauds by using
aii improved holder consisting of two
tubular heads to grip the ends of the
ear, mounted in sleeves to revolvo
easily, the sleeves being joined to¬
gether by a telescopic frame, which is
adjustable to any size ears.
THE HARMONICA.
An Instrument Dear to Youthful Hearts,
ami Oliler Hearts, Too.
“Without stopping to figure it out,”
said Mr. Nobbleby, “I should say that
there were sold in this country about
seven million harmonicas annually.
What makes me think this is that
every boy at some period of his life
has a harmonica. I had one when I
was a boy; my boy has just bought
one; it is just the same in ail families,
and I should say that about seven
million boys mustreach the harmonica
age yearly.
“A peculiar thing about harmonicas
is that the first tuue that everybody
learns to play on it is ‘Home, Sweet
Home.’ That’s the tune I learned to
play on mine when I was a boy ; that’s
the tune that my boy learned to play
first on his, and when he got so he
could play it he rushed out to his
mother, saying:
i t t Did yon hear that?’
“And that’s just what I did, too.
We are likely to sttike the first two
notes of ‘Home,Sweet Home’accideut-
a *» ull< ea H‘ ose break upon the
eal w ® aie fired , with an ambition to
P ?? kbe am \ lts accomplishment
proceed hlls to other ;\ ell 8 tunes; W - ami but from the that thing we
we are likely to do best in, after all,
is the scale. I know that that’s what
I was greatest iu. Hut I have heard
people, boys, too, make very good
music on a harmonica; and when well
played it is, indeed, a very pleasing
instrument. I bring to mind at this
moment three boys walking along a
street on a moonlight night together,
the middle one playing a harmonica,
and playing it well too,and the others
marching on* on either side of him,
aud all completely wrapped up in the
music, and it is a picture pleasing to
recall. Simple and homely as it «b
the harmonica somehow appeals to the
a ! e harmonicas, they tell . ,,
me > that cost as much as $5. I re-
member tne onel had when I was a boy
cost five cents. The one we bought for
ol “' bo T tlie other day cost a quarter,
hut you can buy them for less than
*hat 1 y° u ' vau * _ ^ e ' v v
The KaUrOBd Army .
The standing army of Russia is usu-
r11 t at 800)000 mt5n> of Germany
at 60 t), 000, of Austria''at 275,000 anil
of Great Britain at 225,000, all on a
J lootin'’- Yet there are it an-
3eavs by J tbebist published report of
the int ev -state commerce commis-
sion> 8 g 0j000 rai j roft d employes in the
Uuited Hta tes, win si gross wages
ancl salaries are nearly $500,000,000 a
ear> G r sixty-two per cent, of the
operating expenses of the American
la i[ tl.a\verar>o wa ys. There are four employes
Weave tor ench mile of rail-
road t , ack . 30,049 station
agen ts, 35,667 engineers, 25,322 ’flagmen, cou-
duc tors, 43,768 switchmen,
an d watchmen, and’ and 21,452 telegraph
operators despatches. At the
present.ratio of increase—there are
now 50,000 more railway employes in
the United States than.. tj^re were iu
1395 —the j totaKnu’mber will not be
be ow 1 ) 0 00,000 at the time
0 f the next census.
Here is an army in .which there is
no mustering out and no war footing,
for the railroad army of the United
States, larger than the number of rail-
road employes of any other country,is it
essentially an army of peace, and is
steadily growing at a rate larger than
the railroads themselves, taking the
mileage as a measure of their impor-
tauce.— New York Times.
-------—--
An imperturbable Teacher.
A well known professor sometimes
became so much interested in his lec-
tuve kept that the class when, five the noon ten minutes bell rang be
or over
the hour. Certain relentless spirits
among the students thought they
would give him a gentle hint, so they
bought an alarm clock, set it to go off
precisely at noon, and placed it on the
professor’s desk when they came into
lecture. They knew that he
was a little absent-minded, and ex¬
peeted that he would not notice it.
As the noon hour struck the alarm
went off " lth a crash,and those of the
class not m the secret started and took
in the joke at once. There was a round
of applause. The professor waited
until the alarm and the applause were
over, aud theu said: “Young gentle¬
men, I thank you for this little gift.
I had forgotten it was my birthday.
An alarm clock is something my wife
has needed for our servant for some
time. It is a very kind remembrance
on your part.”
Tho professor then went on to finish
a demonstration interrupted by the
alarm.—Weekly Telegraph.
NO. 51.
CUARDED BY A SHARK.
A Sixteen-Foot Monster That Dhl Sentinel
Duty at the Dry Tortuga*.
The recent ordering of troop* to the
Dry Tortugas, Florida, recalls a curi¬
ous incident in which a boy prevented
the escape of prisoners and performed
a humanitarian act, which was greatly
misunderstood at the time and ar-
roused no little comment in the press
of the day.
At the time mentioned the island of
Dry Tortugas was used as a great
prison, and bounty jumpers, desert¬
ers and prisoners of all classes were
confined there to the number of
several thousands.
The island is but thirteen acres in
extent, surrounded by a wide and
deep moat, which made it almost im¬
possible for prisoners to escape, yet
every time a vessel came into the har¬
bor one or more men would make the
attempt. Obtaining ropes they would
lower themselves into the moat from
a porthole, swim across the ditch,
and try to pass out the tide gate, des¬
pite the fact that sentries paced up
and down on every face aud kept
watchful vigilance, with orders to fire
and call the guard. Several prison¬
ers did escape the sharp eyes of the
guard by swimming and dodging mi¬
ller water when passing the senti¬
nel.
But all were not successful. Sev-
erfll ulifortuDate men droppe d into
the ditch from the ropes fi and were
found drowned tll0 fo owing morn-
. The guards were doubled and
everything J * done to f prevent the at-
t ted 8Cape6 £ . no beeau8e there
dan eP 0 f the men getting
/ as the transports were always
8ea ehed bnt to prevent casualties,
Just theu jt happened that the sur-
of tbe st making a study anil
b “ f the * J Ianre Msson^suggested sharks thereabouts ’they
day that
put a big maueiiter in the moat where
it cou j d be wa t c hed. He said to Gen-
erftl ]yi e ; gs wbo was stationed at Fort
; Teffer8 on at that time: “It will pre-
yent tbe men from Bwimining the
moat> and so be tbe means of saving
their lives. ”
The proposition went into immediate
effect. The surgeon’s sou, with the
boys of another officer, went out fish-
iu g and soon captured a shark, which
tl >e surgeon’s twelve-oared barge
to "'® 11 on shore, the huge fish beating
tbe water with its tail, and at one
time taking the cutwater in its jaws
aa<1 shaking it as a cat would a mouse,
Finally, after several hours of hard,
work and with the assistance of m0fy>
mell > th e shark, which was at least
thirteen feet in length, -was hauled
over the tide bridge, the surgeon’s
8011 cu t out the hook, and with a
swirl of his big tail the monster went
dashing away.
The shark was dubbed the Provost
Marshal bv the prisoners, and that it
inspired a wholesome dread in their
minds was soon evident. But it was
a perfectly harmless creature. It
swam round and round very near the
oricic wall, with one eye cast up
pathetically. It presented a formid-
able spectacle, moving slowly along,
and no one dared enter the water,
consequently no casualties were re-
ported. But it was not long before
an article appeared in a northern paper
calling attention to the terrors of Dry
Tortugas, where among other tortures
the Union officers used maneater
sharks to capture prisoners, and so
no little excitement was occasioned
among thoughtless readers in the
North and South at what was con-
ceived to be a brutality of the officers
who had charge of the Dry Tortugas
prison.
Meanwhile the great shark, itf real-
ity a timid and utterly demoralized
creature, was swimming about, refns-
b)g the dantiest morsels of fish which
were offered it, finally becoming so
tame that it could be touched by its
boy captors, who followed it about ou
rafts w hile the naturalist watched the
method of swimming and made many
sketches of it and tho singular fishes
which clung to its sides. The shark
lived six months, finally dying of
starvation. Its jaws may now be seen
in the American Museum of Natural
History, Central Park, New' York
city.
Soliloquy of a Bicyclist.
The president of the Spanish Senate
has broken his bell in trying to restore
order. Poor old Spain! Lantern
gone out, both tires punctured,pedals
knocked off, handle-bar twisted, front
fork bent, bell broken, muddy road
ahead, night coming on, seventeen
miles from a repair shop and no money
to pay for repairs anyhow. Poor old
Spain!—Minneapolis Times.