DANNY DESMOND’S
FOURTH OF JULY
By George Cartwright.
Dorothy Desmond would never have
Hccepted the attentions of Frank Car
roll if she had not known he was most
Heartily disliked by Dr. F.ruce Ronald,
^.nd she never would have quarreled
with the doctor but for Danny.
Dorothy had been the head of the
house since, a mere slip of a girl, she
had stood beside her dying mother and,
Icarce comprehending her responsibil
ity. had promised that she would be a
mother to Danny. She had done more
Us years rolled around, becoming Dan
fiy’s abject slave.
It was because Dr. Ronald liad left
Danny's cut finger to hurry to Mrs.
Carson, who was reported to be in a
fit, that Dorothy had quarreled with
him. She could not understand why
Mrs. Carson's fit should be more Im
portant than her darling's hurt, and
had told Ronald that she could not
marry a man who would leave a poor
Buffering child to minister to the whims
of a hypochondriac.
There was no time for argument.
Dr. Ronald had sprung Into his buggy,
and the next day she had returned his
ring. That same night Carroll had
taken the doctor's place on the Des
mond porch to the openly expressed dis
approval of Danny, who found Car*
roll's cheap humor but a poor exchanga
for the absorbing tales Ronald was
> ; .wont to tell.
Dorothy herself found little pleasure
In Carroll's society. His slartg and silly
stories grated upon her finer sensibili
ties. but she would not let Ronald see
that she missed him, and Carroll had
been the first to appear after the quar
>»el
Carroll was far from a fool, how
ever, and he sought to win Danny's
favor with presents. That youth re
fused to accept a music box and a
Jack knife, but the approach of the
Fourth of July found him graciously
disposed to accept a gigantic pistol
generously supplied with caps of an
extra large size and of exceptional
noise producing qualities. He was still
wedded to his Idol, Ronald, but the
donor of such fascinating toys was not
to be regarded lightly, and for fully ten
minutes he sat upon Carroll’s lap be
fore he slipped down to try the new
toy.
’ Encouraged by the success of this
experiment, Carroll was moved to make
further offering on the morning of the
Fourth of a case of fireworks and a
fresh supply of caps In spite of Doro
thy’s fears of an accident. More than
that, he stayed to help shoot them off,
and all the afternoon he and Danny
made the Desmond front yard as noisy
as a Japanese battlefield.
He did not receive the Invitation to
supper for which he had been maneu
vering; however, he was back soon af
ter the evening meal. He was assured
as least one welcome by a fresh supply
of fireworks. These he assisted Dan
ny to set off in the front yard, serious
ly burning one of Mr. Desmond's fa
mous maples with his pinwheels and
smashing a skylight in the conserva
tory next door with a misdirected
rocket.
Presently Carroll began to regret his
generosity, for he argued that were the
supply less plentiful he might possi
bly be left alone wi*h Dorothy. Be
cause of this hope he was only too
ready, when she complained of the
noise, to flick the ashes carelessly from
his cigar Into an open box of caps. The
expected explosion did not come, and,
disappointed, he turned away just as
Danny reached over for a fresh cap. ,
With a flare the entire supply ex
ploded In the boy’s face. The ash with
the live heart had taken a moment to
heat through and explode the fulmi
nate. v
With a cry Dorothy caught him up
and carried him into the parlor, refus
ing all aid from the thoroughly fright
ened Carroll.
"Don’t touch him!” she stormed, "li
you have any decency, go away at
once.”
”1 didn’t mean to,” he protested. But
his words fell upon unheeding ears. It
was enough for Dorothy that her dar
ling was suffering. She ran to the tel
ephone to call up old Dr. Bryan, only
to be met with the disheartening re
sponse that the doctor had been called
,to the country. There was only one
Other physician In the town.
For one brief second Dorothy hesi
tated; then a groan from the huddled
figure on the couch drove from her
.head all feelings of pride. She took the
receiver down again. No need this
time to look in the book for the num
ber. She knew it by heart.
Ronald answered the call In person,
and with a cry of relief she told him oi
her need and Implored him to come.
There was no answer to her request,
only the click as the receiver at the
other end was hung up. With a cry
she sank to the floor. She was alone
... »..v “Cl OUU.CriU(i iUUi.
Her father had gone to the celebration
In the town hall, and Carroll had slunk
away at her fierce repulse.
She could not believe that a man
■would be so cruel as to refuse little
Danny help. And Dr. Ronald had pre
tended to be so fond of the boy. Hot
anger burned In her heart, but she re
membered that her first duty was
toward Danny. She struggled to her
feet and started toward the couch In
the other room. In the doorway her
heart gave a great leap. There, bend
ing over the lad, was the stalwart fig
ure she loved so well. Without turn
ing from his work he spoke:
"I thought it would be better to come
right over,” he explained. “I was afraid
that his eyes might be In danger. Ful
minate makes such a nasty burn.”
“You might have told me that you
r were coming," she protested.
"Do you imagine I would refuse to
answer the tail of distress anywhere?”
he asked, as he saturated a strip of
cotton batting in sweet oil. "Was
tliete need ol that assurance? liven
you gave me credit for boiag absorbed
in my work.”
"I beg your pardon,” she said sim
ply, trying to still the beating of her
heart as she came forward and tool.'
one of Danny's hands In her own. "Is
he much hurt?”
"Not as badly as I feared.” was the
assuring answer. "The burns are su
perficial and confined to the lower part
of the face. His eyes are unhurt, and
he did not brpathe the flame."
“Thank God.” she said softly, "that
you are here!'
He shot a quick glance at her as he
raised his eyes from his work but he
went quietly on. and by the time he
had finished she had regained her self
possession.
"How can I ever repay you?” she
said as she replaced his packages In
the tiny satchel. He caught her face
in his two hands and searched her
eyes. What he saw there must have
satisfied him.
"My fee Is a heavy one,” he declared
solemnly—"a kiss.”
There was a tense moment, then,
with a sob. she paid him double price.
Costly Patrons.
From the Rrooklyn Eagle.
The Preacher--Have you special rates
for clergymen ?
The Hotel Clerk—Yes, sir; we charge
them a dollar extra.
The Preacher—Dollar extra! Why?
The Hotel Clerk—They don't patronise
the bar
HURRAH FOR THE I
„ STARS_ AND_; STRIPES!
[ The British Invader. f
:: BY HOWARD FiELDINQ.
vising the arrangements for th© display
of fireworks, which was to begin at 9. I
found Tom also, and we had a serious
talk. To sum up th© matter In th© brief
est form, let me say that I laid before
them evidence to support these allega
tions:
On the morning when the check swindle
was perpetrated at the bank Lord Colewyn
and Bitters had started from the Stanch
tield hotel on foot for the Brandon resi
dence. They had proceeded to a certain
place beside the wall surrounding the
grounds and had climbed over. There they
had found another man waiting in some
shrubbery, where the ground had fortu
nately been In an excellent condition to
receive and preserve footprints. Tho man
whom they had met had been dressed and
made up in imitation of Bitters, who after
a brief conference had again climbed tho
wall. Lord Colewyn and tho other man
had then /skirted the wall on the inside
until they had come to a path, by which
they had approached the house.
The double of Bitters had stopped at a
small summer house on tho edge of the
lawn in plain view from the veranda and
had remained there an hour or more, while
Lord Colewyn. with Miss Brandon—and
her mother for a part of tho time—had
sat on the veranda. During this period
Ijord Colewyn had frequently directed at
tention to "Bitters" seated in the sum
mer house. Finally (and doubtless upon a
signal) he had sent a servant to summon
Bitters, and the real Bitters had respond
ed, coming up to the veranda, where of
course he had been unmistakably recog
nised by Mrs. Brandon and her daughter,
tho latter of whom was able to declare
from the depths of honest conviction that
he had not been out of her sight.
Yet the fact was that Bitters had been
to town and had cashed the check, creep
ing secretly Into th© arbor afterward in a
way which I was able to point out and
even In part to trace by actual markings,
thus taking th© place of his double, who
who then crept out as Bitters had come
in, returned to town, packed up his be
longings In the hotel and fled.
The resemblance of the double to Bitters
had been ©trong enough to permit of this
deception at th© distance of the arbor
from the veranda, but would not have suf
ficed for the fraud at the bank.
When Mr. Brandon had heard my story
and had hastily verified a part of it his
natural Impulse was to give Colewyn a
chance to defend himself, but as we wer©
about to summon him Mrs. Brandon broke
in upon us, having overheard so much
that the remainder could not be con
-v
a trained runner to overtake a man whd
has never given special study to that ex
ercise. A nice, easy tackle brought Cole*
wyn't nose and tho soil of my native liind
into close touch with each other, and then
Tom came up and helped me lead th4
captive back to the house.
There we learned that the Interview be->
tween the noble lord and his prospectlv4
father-in-law had ended with a threat ot
a criminal prosecution, whereupon Cole*
wyn had struck down the white haired
old man with a somewhat remarkable
weapon—one of those long, round needld
cushions stuffed with emery powder, art
ideal sand club. The blow stunned him,
but inflicted no lasting Injury. That Is, It
inflicted no lasting Injury upon Mr. Bran
don, but It smashed Miss Ethel's ideal of
an English lord into ten thousand plooesj
Mrs. Brandon's fear of ecandal save&
Colewyn from a Jail, and ho departed
from that house forever that evening
der the flaming eyes of a fiery portrait
George Washington.
SOME OLD TIME
CELEBRATIONS
Parades, dinners and the drinking of aa
many toasts as there were states in thd
union formed tho characteristic feature*
of the early Fourth of July celebrations.
There was lews no4se a century ago than
is usually the case today and absolutely
no overindulgence In fireworks, because
£Li>*>wairite were so score that their uee wajtf
practically restricted to the public gar
dens. These popular resorts, of which
there were several In New York, Boston,
Philadelphia and other large cities, were
careful to announce, often weeks before
hand, the attractions prepared for the an
niversary day. Nearly every town and
village could point with pride to revolu
tionary veterans, and the presence of
these warriors who had contributed their
share toward making the declaration of
independence mean something to the coun
try added to the deep personal Interest In
the day. The love for their young coun
try rang out true and clear In every ora
tion and after dinner toast. The follow*
lng toast, given by the merchants of New
York in 1795 at the Tontine coffee house,
la but a sample of many which the day
always called forth:
The auspicious day that rescued our
country from the hated yoke of foreign
tyranny and gave us honorable rank
among the nations of the earth—may its
glorious events never be effaced from our
memories; may the blessings it has con
ferred be as lasting as the globe we in
habit and may each revolving year find
us more united, more happy and more
free.
The city editor of the Chicago paper
sent me down to Stanchlleld, a dis
tance of forty miles, to write a funny
story about a misfortune which had
befallen one of the be3t men in the
state of Flinois. His name was Samuel
Brandon, and ne was Known far and
wide as a genuine American, a man
whom great wealth had' not spoiled, In
every way broad minded and thorough
ly democratic in the best sense of the
word.
The joke was that Mr. Brandon’s only
daughter had recently become engaged
to a titled Briton, Lord Colewyn, whom
malicious fate had sent to the little city
of Stanchlleld. This was a source of
pride and joy to Mrs. Brandon, who
was a born aristocrat, and of deep cha
grin to her husband, whose patriotism
was intense.
To add to the humor of the situation,
Lord Colewyn was to be a guest of the
Brandons on the Fourth of July. Upon
this day Mr. Brandon always threw op
en his spledid estate to the populace
and gave his fellow citizens such an
entertainment as spared the city all ex
pense for a celebration. It was Mr.
Brandon's one day In the year; upon
the other 364 Mrs. Brandon ruled the
demesne In a fashion highly exclusive
1 I agreed with the city editor that this
affair partook of the nature of a jest
The sense of humor dawned upon the
world when one of our monkey ances
tors pushed another off the limb of a
tree and was amused to see him light
upon his head instead of on his feet,
and fun has not changed much in the
Intervening millions of years.
An early train took me to Stanch
fleld, where my friend Tom Mason met
me at the depot. He was employed in
Mr. Brandon's bank, and I depended
upon him for such of the facts as were
really common property and might be
told without indelicacy. Indeed, Torn
had already given me some of them ir
a queer letter written about the time
of the announcement of the engage
ment, in the middle of June. He seem
ed to suffer for Mr. Brandon, whom he
greatly admired, and to expect me tc
sympathize fully.
In company with my friend I went tc
the Stanchlleld hotel for a bit of break
fast. As soon as we entered the dininj
room my attention was attracted by f
person who had the unmistakable air ol
a gentleman's gentleman. He was su
perintending two waiters in the ar
rangement of a table, the most favor
ably situated of all In the room, for II
was on a dais in a corner and was al
most surrounded by open windows.
"Lord Colewyn’s valet,” said Tom
"His lordship evidently intends tc
breakfast in public this morning.'
"Why isn't he at the Brandons'?" 1
and my laugh was a tribute such as I
might have given to a comedian who
had appeared upon the stage In a make
up that surpassed all possible anticipa
tion.
The noble lord at breakfast was ruch
a study that I forgot the trifling matter
of $5,500 which my friend had men
tioned and thought otdy of the re
finement of manner which enabled
Colewyn to preserve a languid Indiffer
ence while stowing away a meal that
would have filled an alligator. His
valet ministered to his wants with well
trained deference and the waiters with
amusement tinged with admiration of
I1I3 magnificent appetite.
Tom and I spent the forenoon lazily,
lunched at his father’s house and about
2 o’clock rode all acrosB the city and a
little way beyond Its verge to the Bran
don place. Description had not pre
pared me for the beauty of this estute
nor for the remarkable effect of old
world exclusiveness which It produced.
The great house upon the crest of the
vast green wave of lawn dominated the
scene, and the windows stared haughti
ly at the public highway which pre
sumed to pass within a thousand yards
of it. Gigantic elms flung down broad
masses of shadow upon the green, and
it is painful to speak of the number
of the vulgar who were enjoying these
refuges from the burning heat of the
day. The common people are always
most distressingly plebean when ac
companied by their children, and I
judged that these could not have left
any at home.
Upon a veranda at the rear of the
house we found Mrs. Brandon and her
daughter drinking tea with a select few
culled from Stanehfield’s society. Mrs.
Brandon was one of those annoying
women who make up for a full face
view with no thought of any other.
From the front and at the proper dis
tance and In Just the right light she
was a tair young creature of less than
thirty summers. Seen In profile, she
was a mask. In figure she was lean
and eager as a greyhound, and the
placidity of demeanor which she af
fected was as easily detached from her
real nature by an observing eye as
was the film of rouge from her face.
Her daughter was an amazingly pret
ty girl, healthy and natural, but ob
viously too young for her years. A
glance at her convinced me that she
had not accepted Dord Colewyn at her
mother's behest or because of any
sinful craving for a title, but merely
because he had the good fortune to
lixr'd In hf>r nhildlsh Irruurlnn
Mrs. Brandon at first supposed that I
was attacking the validity of Lord Cole
wyn’s title—that I was trying to prove
him a bogus lord. Such had been her
own first fear in regard to h!m; he had
seemed "too good to be true.” She had
read the newspapers, and she knew' that
bogus lords are permitted to exist by an
inscrutable providence and to disappoint
the fondest hopes of ambitious mothers.
So she had taken shrewd measures to as
sure herself of Lord Colewyn’s genuine
ness, and In this crisis she overwhelmed
me with proofs of It.
In vain I protested that hls title and my
accusation hud nothing to do with each
other. Mrs. Brandon seemed Incapable of
perceiving the possibility that a real lord
could do wrong. The scene was fast be
coming hysterical, and Mr. Brandon wise
ly broke It off and went in search of
Colewyn. Tom and I led Mrs. Brandon to
the darkest and quietest spot on the ver
unda, and in a few minutes Ethel came
flying around an angle of the house.
“Mother!” she cried. “Something dread
ful has happened! Father has taken Lord
Colewyn up to the sewing room.”
“The sewing room?” echoed Mrs. Bran
don.
“The house Is overrun,” said the girl.
"It was the only place where they could
be alone. Tell me—"
But her mother had sunk into a chair
and seemed incapable of speech. Ethel
turned to Tom, but I couldn't stand by
and see that happen. Telling that story
would not help Tom In hls lovemaking
afterward, for girls have an Indian’s mem
ory of those that hurt them. It seemed
much better that she should have a dis
agreeable recollection of me, and so I
deftly got in Tom’s way and began my
painful task.
I was interrupted by a dull, heavy sound
| that seemed to be directly over my head.
I paused, looking upward.
“They're up there,” said the girl, point
ing.
“Tom,” I cried, “do you* know the
way?’*
Before he could reply there was a sound
of shuffling feet, and then a figure swung
into view from the edge of the veranda
roof and dropped to the ground.
“Colewyn!” I exclaimed. “He didn’t take
that plunge for nothing.”
Both Tom and I sprang to the veranda
rail, but all was In deep shadow on that
side, and we could not tell which way
Colewyn had gone. In an instant we both
were over the rail. The fugitive had tak
en no harm from hls fall of fully twenty
feet and had made off.
For perhaps a second's space we stood
baffled, and then a great flare of light
struck sharply across the darkness. The
whole space between us and the arbor,
with Its background of trees and bushes,
was brilliantly Illumined, and in the
midst of this expanse was Colewyn run
ning as If for hls life.
A mighty chorus of yells from beyond
the house told us the cause of the welcome
light. The fireworks display had begun
with an enormous “set piece” showing the
American eagle sketched in white fire, and
in the light of this glorious bird of free
dom I ran down the fleeing Britisher
without difficulty. It is no great feat for
tury the celebration In New York Invari
ably opened with a discharge of cannon
from the Battery. A parade of the militia
and volunteer rifle organizations, accom
panied by the leading societies of the city.
In which Tammany was always well rep
resented, marched through Broadway be
low the present oity hall. Wall street and
some of the other thoroughfares.
After a march of about an hour the
paraders filed Into St. Paul e or some other
prominent church, where the declaration
of independence was always read, fol
lowed by an oration.
In the evening every tavern and coffee
house had a special Fourth of July dinner.
This latter custom was universal. No
hamlet was so small that it could not'
gather Its company of patriotic diners in
the village tavern, where their enthusiasm
was displayed in repeated protestations of
loyalty to their country.
The residents of Brooklyn 100 years ago
were not to be outdone by their friends in
the greater city across the river, as, ac
cording to a newspaper account at the
time, the Fourth of July, ±o04, was cele
brated In Brooklyn as follows:
The military of Kings county assembled
at the town of Brooklyn to celebrate the
day. At sunrise a salute of seventeen
guns was fired. The uniform corps of the
troop of horse, republican riflemen, Wash
ington fusileers and the Rising Sun com
panies formed on Brooklyn Heights at 10
o'clock and marched through Sands street,
Main street. Front street, up old Ferry
street, to the parade ground.
Later In the day there were dinners In
the various taverns and the customary
toasts.
An account of a celebration at Potta
grove, Montgomery county, Pa., is inter
esting not only for the picture of rural
enjoyment, but as a sample of the jour
nalistic writing commonly seen In the
early newspapers:
“Two fleldpieces, cheerfully served, sent
abroad in the forenoon the lofty report of
both fun and frolic by sixteen well timed
and successive discharges. Joy beamed on
every brow; the green valleys and distant
hills participated In the gladness of the
day by reverberating the magnificent and
far sent sounds of liberty and Independ
ence."'’
Mention is then made of the dinner, with
its attendant speeches, and In concluding
the writer adds:
“The retired sun had just by this time
let in the gloomly shade of night, upon
which the company betook themselves to
the tavern of James Klnkead, wrhere they
enjoyed themselves with sprightly dance
and feasted to a late hour upon song,
sentiment and rosy wdne.’’—New York
Times.
Disfigured.
Church—We had some attractive fea
tures on the Fourth.
Gotham—And the next day I suppose
there were a lot of features In town which
were not so attractive.—Yonkers States
man.
tion. I would have given $1,000, con
sidering it an excellent literary Invest
ment, to buy an accurate knowledge of
what Lord Colewyn seemed to be when
viewed in the enchtmted mists of this
schoolgirl’s dreams. At 20 or a littLe la
ter she would be as sensible as most
young women, and then she would see
him at the very best as a hollow and
conceited donkey; at the worst, as a
selfish and mercenary cad. The thought
made me look at Mrs. Brandon In
wrath. She happened to be standing
so that a strong light poured over her
shoulder, and I saw the rouge upon
her cheek as if it had been a great
smear of blood.
At this moment the appearance of
Lord Colewyn’s carriage reduced Tom
and myself to a state of invisibility;
indeed, the miracle went so far that
our feet made no audible sound upon
the floor of the veranda as we hur
riedly left that place.
In a grove beyond the house we found
Mr. Brandon, a picturesque figure, tall and
active. He was clad in a rough gray suit,
and an old straw hat was tilted back upon
hi3 head, revealing his wavy white hair,
abundant as in youth. His face was
smooth and ruddy, and the hand he gave
me was steady and strong. He was clear
ly a cultivated man, and there was some
thing' in his manner which suggested the
splendid democracy of a college—us it used
to b“, before it was the fashion to ride to
chapel or the lecture room in one’s pri
vate automobile.
Mr. Brandon was conferring with his
fellow members of a committee on sports,
and the others listened to him with a de
ference which disappointed me until I dis
covered that it was due to his great knowl
edge of the subject and not to any less
worthy consideration. A fine official of
the games was old Sam Brandon, and
under h!s eye the best man had to win.
I discovered presently that he had a
great affection for Tom Mason, and as
they 3tood together there—ideal figures of
American youth and age—suddenly the
whole truth leaped into my mind. Here
was the man whom Mr. Brandon had
chosen in hi9 own heart. I understood in
a fiaslf Tom’s letter to me, which had
been a cry of anguish for the ear of a
friend, the cry of a man crossed in love.
Then there arose in me the desire that
I fee! too seldom and can never summon
at will the desire to do a tremendous
amount of work in the shortest possible
time. Boundless confidence always ac
companies this Impulse and a clearness of
thought which I vainly seek 364 days in the
year. I excused myself to Tom and Mr.
Brandon, and for the remainder of that
afternoon I was the busiest man In the
state of Illinois.
Shortly before 8 o’clock, having had no
I dinner meanwhile, though apparent’y It
i j was being served all over the place, I
, [ hunted up Mr. Brandon, who was super
i
“He doesn’t want to crowd the old
gentleman too hard, I guess,” replied
Tom. “My lord Is not such a fool as ht
looks.”
“Mr. Brandon really takes this tc
heart, eh?” said I.
“Does he?” said Tom, with most ox
pressive emphasis, “and yet he’s such
a thoroughbred; absolutely a man oi
principle! He believes that a mothei
Is tne natural and proper guardian 01
her daughter. In this matter he has
advised his wife, but he would never
attempt to control her. Toward Lore
Colewyn he is strictly just. He’ll be s
model father-in-law in every way.
"Including the pecuniary way,’
said I.
Tom smiled bitterly.
“As to that,” said he, “let me tell yot
a story—not for publication, of course
for we are keening it quiet. His lord
ship had about $7,000 In Mr. Brandon’s
bank. One day last week a man pre
eented a check to me as paying tellei
at the hank for $5,000, drawn by Cole
wyn to his own '"' ter and indorsed bj
him. Signature and indorsement looked
all right, and I took the man to be thai
flunky over there, who had cashed on<
or twro similar checks for srnal
amounts. It apoears that the checl
was a forgery and that Bitters, as Cole
wyn is pleased to call his valet, was
Impersonated by a swindler who hat
had a room in this hotel next to mj
lord’s for about a week and has now
skipped for parts unknown. I coulc
have sworn that tfce man was Bitters
but he wasn’t, because Bitters was a:
the Brandon place at the time.”
“Who says so?” I demanded.
“Everybody,” answered Tom gloom
IIy, “Miss Brandon among the number
Bitters was undoubtedly there with hi:
master. And it was on me, of course
I ought to have lost my job. But San
Brandon Is a prince. He instantly madt
good Colewyn’s hiss and lighted a cigai
with my resignation, and the whole af
fair is dead except that a detective it
secretly chasing the swindler.”
As I was about to ask a question Lore
Colewyn entered the dining room, anc
at the sight of him I laughed. A mo
merit later I began to be surprised tha
he should haw- appealed to me in tha
way. He was :i big. blond Englishman
naturally rather good looking—indeed
he might be called handsome. But h<
was the absolute ideal of self compla
cency. In costume, carriage, expres
sion, everything to the minutest detail
he was entirely beyond criticism as tin
representative of a type of character
The picture of self satisfaction was s<
i perfect that it even transcended nature
ft SOUTH AMERICAN
FOURTH OF JULY
"Some years ago," said the fireworks
lian, "I had to make a Journey to Quito,
tho capital of Ecuador, to superintend a
big fireworks display that was being given
there by the government in celebration of
tho anniversary of the freeing of the coun
try from the Spanish yoke by Bolivar.
"Well, I got to Guayaquil, the principal
seaport of Ecuador, and started over the
jnountaln trail to Quito, which was several
days’ Journal inland, with a mule team.
I had two American assistants with me
and three muleteers. Wo rode on mule
beftek, and our baggage was carried on six
other mules. The country was disturbed
at that time by one of the revolutions so
common in Latin America, and we were
warned at Guayaquil that wo might be
held up along tho trail by the rebels. But
all went well for two days.
"On tho afternoon of the third day as
we wound round a corner of the narrow
mountain path wo met a party of bare
footed, ragamuffin soldiers, who surround
ed us In a moment and ordered us to halt.
As tho order was given at the point of
the rltlo we promptly obeyed.
"Tho boss brigand, a big, burly villain,
who smoked a fat black cigar and wore
a long gilt sheathed sword, but was other
wise us ragged and disreputable as thd
rest of the gang, told us through our
guides that he was an officer of the ‘evei*
glorious and constitutional provisional
government,' by which he meant the revo
lutionists. Ho added that he was empow
ered to annex, for the good of the cause)
all mules and merchandise that passed
along that road.
"They unloaded the pack animals and
opened the boxes of fireworks, which
caused them much surprise. They wer#
nil n .H1 n ♦ nanonnti. I,nl#
who had only seen such things once of
twice before when they happened to visit
town at the time of a ilesta,' and had cor*
tulnly never touched them. The revolu*
tlontst general admired the rockets very
much and handled them as lovingly us anjl
American kid does on the Fourth of July}
“I told him they wore Intended to cele
brate the Independence of hts country and
appealed to his patriotism to let me go oil
to Quito so that the display might come
off on schedule time, llut he didn't se*
It In that light.
•'The government at Quito, he declared,
hod trampled on tho liberties of the coun
try and therefore hod no right to send up
fireworks to celebrate the glorious age ol
Bolivar, It was-he, upon whom the man*
tie ot Bolivar had fallen, who would send
them up, and thus celebrate the great vie*
torles he was going to win when he start*
ed In to do things to the government.
‘‘With that ho struck a match and tried
to light one of the rockets by iho wrong
end. I tried to explain to him that he
was going to get hurt, but his followers
thrust me aside roughly, and I didn't
try to save him again. The rocket sud
denly went ofC with a roar.
"In a moment there was a terrific ex
plosion. The whole lot Ignited at once,
bombs and rockets darting off In all di
rections among the crowd standing
around.
"You can bet those revolutionists were
beared. Some of them fell down on th*
ground and called upon their patron saint*
for help; other bolted down the mountain
trail like frightened hares and didn't show
up again for half an hour.
"It la a miracle we were not all killed,
but with tho exception of the general no
body was badly hurt.
"I know how to dress burns as well a*
any doctor, of course, and I soon fixed
him up as comfortable as possible. HI*
followers formed a camp near the trail*
and I stayed with them three days, attend*
tng to the chiefs Injuries. At the end ol
that time he was well on the way to re
covery and very grateful to ms. I went
on to Quito aud gave the display at tht
time appointed, but all the fireworks had
to be locally manufactured."—Charles Bl
Darlington In Washington Star.
Dance Favors for the Fourth.
For the Fourth of July dance ther#
are enormous crackers or snapping
■mottoes In trlcolored Isinglass. An ex
tra loud snapper Is in honor of Inde
pendence day, and the caps and apron#
packed Into the small space are all
In patrlotlo colors. Other dance favor*
are tiny canes wound with trlcolored
ribbons and small pistols which, when
the trigger Is pulled, send out a small
Japanese folding fan, while those or
a larger size shoot forth dlmlnutlv*
parasols In the same colors, with th*
cutest of fringed edges.
Japanese Day l-ireworks.
"The Japanese are not expert IQ
night fireworks,” says a manufacturer
of pyrotechnic supplies, "but they lead
tho world in day fireworks. I have
seen some wonderful displays during
several visits to Japan. They send
up aerial pieces which explode and dis
play In the air perfect models of full
rigged ships, temples, men, beasts and
birds. They can even make these
beasts and birds fight In the air. Wa
have not yet been able to Imitate them
In this country with much success. On
the other hand they are beginning to
take our night fireworks and analyze
them and produce similar pieces."
Parlor Fireworks.
Among the newest fireworks are th*
parlor variety, which a child can han
dle with safety and which can be set
off in the house without danger of fire.
This pattern Includes diamond rain
sticks, Homan candles and cartwheels.
The fire and sparkle from these design*
are harmless and may be permitted to
fall upon the flimsiest kind of material
without Igniting it. In the larger de
signs for outdoor use the newest is th*
gatling candle, which consists of a
bundle of Roman candles arranged
around a centerpiece like a gatling gur^
The effect Is very pretty.
<*tung.
Prom Harper’s Weekly.
There is a law in Texas which require*
commercial travelers to purchase a li
cense before they can do business, a law
either unknown to, or disregarded by, *
certain patent medicine man from New
England. He was Just emerging from a
drug store, where he had placed an or
der, when a stranger came up and ad
dressed him:
“You sell Brown’s Boston Bitters, don't
you?” the stranger asked.
"Yes; and I’d like to sell you a case
cure you so quick you won’t have bee*
sick yesterday—fact!” the drummer said.
“All right. How much is she?” th*
stranger asked, pulling out his pocket
book, and handing over the to demanded,
Receiving In exchange an order on the lo
cal freight agent for hi*> case.
“Now, I’d just like to see your licens*
to peddle—I’m the sheriff,” the strange*
said, pleasantly.
“You’ve got me—twenty-five, isn’t it?’*
the drummer asked, offering the money.
“I don’t suppose it will be necessary for
me to appear?”
“No, that wdil be all right,” the sheriff
replied. Then he looked at the order for
the case of medicine. “What am I going
to do with this stuff?" he asked.
“I ll give you a dollar for it,” the drum
mer suggested, and the trade was made.
“And do you happen to have a licens*
to peddle? Huh, I thought not. Well,
you have been trading with me—selling
[goods without a license—guess I’ll go file
a complaint against you,” the drummer
said, sweetly. And the next morning th*,
.sheriff, with a sheepish grin, paid a fin*
W* — - .__ **•