The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899, July 01, 1897, Image 5
BABY HAS GONE TO SCHOOL. The baby hit rone to school; th, met What will the mother do, With never a call to button or pin, Or tie a little shoe? How can she ket-p herself buny all day, With the little hiudering thing away? Another basket to All with lunch, . Another "good-bye" to say, And mother stands at the door to see Her baby inarch away; A a A . .. - - . ! 4 lUt a half mliaf AUU ill US wnu I"" i .. i ' , . . And half a something akin to grief. She thinks of a possible future morn, When the children, one by one, - Will go from their homes to the distant world, To battle with life alone, And not even baby be left to cheer The scattered home of that future year. She picks up the garments here and there, Thrown down in careless baste, And tries to think how it would seem If nothing were displaced. If the bouse were always as still as this, How could she bear the loneliness? MOTHER LOVE. The flaming red of the evening sky was paling Into violet shadow. Night fame upon the earth, over the little vil lage, and the lonely house near Its bor ders. Dark shadows crept Into the low, old farttiiuntid wiDdows. They painted the whitewashed ceiling a somber black, and filled with gloom the narrow angles of a room in which an old woman sat bending over her knitting. Not a sound was heard save the mo notonous click, click of the needles, and now the whirr of the clock just be fore the striking of the hour. 'Elght o'clock! It Is night. Before long he will be here." A sigh relieved the breast of the gray-haired woman. She pushed aside ber knitting and set the smoky little oil lamp going. This she placed near the window that the light might greet the wanderer on bis home-coming, and then took up her knitting again. Three years bad gone by. It was au tumn now, and the old woman sat in the self-same place near the big warm stove, waiting for the return of her only son.. Yesterday he had been re leased from the army at the expira tion of his term of service. But the WITU A BOUND TUB WAN KNKLT AT HER FEET. night passed, and. then a day and an other night, and still her son came not. Almost a week went by; full of tedious waking. One day at noon the postman rode up to the little liouse In the meadow. . - "A letter, Mother Kathrine, a letter from your 'only one'l" he cried. He recognized the stiff, ungainly charac ters of the absent peasant lad. Mother Kathrine fortified her eyes with her old horn spectacles and hob bled with her letter into the broad strip of the noonday sun that came stream ing through the small window. The wrinkled hands trembled, as she broke the seal. Is be coming home at last? No, not yet! On the worn-eaten bench the old woman dropped, clutching the letter . which was soon soaked with the tears that rained from ber poor old eyes. No, her lad. was not coming! He may never come again. He was locked up In a prison cell because he had killed a man In a drunken broil. "Mother," be wrote, "I am Innocent. -I don't know how It happened.' ' if. Yea she knew. First a boy's rejoic ing, because he was free to go home, then a spell In the tavern over the wine cup a quarrel,; Insulting remarks, m . I.I i I I i C. nerce, angry unwi, a suuc, iuu tueu, murder." Yes,' she knew! Three more year to wait! At the . And Mf lia4 tittle him untMM ferAfilf have expired. The trembling Hp never complained. The wrinkled hands reso lutely wiped away ;the tears. Mother Kathrine arose, put on ber Sunday bonnet and her friendless mien, and went to see her relations In the viHnge.' 'She told thorn, hesitatingly at first, and then glibly enough, that Jano, her only son, had shipped as a sailor on a big man-of-war and was making a trip around the world. The relations lis tened to her tale with astonishment, and praised the lad's courage. Soon the whole village knew It. The women came and congratnlafa-d her, and she, simple woman, turned dissembler In ber old days for the love of her son. - Mother love' must shield blm from disgrace. The villagers must never know that Jano was a murderer. No, nor Kntha, his sweetheart, who loved him and bad been true to him, count ing the days till his return. In the night, when the villagers slept, Mother Kathrine sat weeping before ber Bible, and prayed for Jano, ber only son. Another car presented It self to the ever-thoughtful mother heart. Jano must bav new clothes when he returns, and money his sav ings from his long Journey. And she began to save and stint to pile np a lit tle store of silver. Like moot women of her age, Mother Katbrln was fond of ttao sugar in ber coffee, tut from now on he drank H assweeieaed. .; All day an' half tb night ah knitted eocks for A tare soajcer la th etty, aad ey wsek ate surfed th hunM product of her Industry to the store for the small, hard-earned pay. Nobody ever saw Mother Kathrine at these things, for nobody must ever know, for Jano's sake. . Thus, the time sped by. Three years and this was the day that would bring him home. The old woman opened -.the cupboard and took from within a package of warm, woolen socks, a knitted kersey, a pair of new boots, and a large silk neckerchief. These things she laid out'oh the white pine table, from under the pillow of her bed aie added a coarse linen bag, such as sailors. carry, filled with clink ing coin, .' Thirty stiver dollars! The little fortune had grown apace, and "what is god's name do you want HKRK?" Mother Kathrine chuckled with glee whenever she thought of her boy's sur prise. Bread and ham, sausage and butter, and a mug of cider made the old pine board look like a Christmas table. Ev erything was in readiness Jano could come! On the bench by the stove she sat waiting, straining the half-deaf ears to catch the sound of his footsteps. It came. The door opened slowly. As If stricken with palsy, the faithful old mother sat glued to her seat. The tall form of a man, stooping as he en tered, stood In the moonlight that came with him through the door. Two dark eyes looked Into hers out of a white set face. The mother's arms opened wide. "Jano!" With a bound the man knelt at her feet and buried bis head in her lap. Jano, her only son, had returned! ' Mother love had banished the peni tentiary specter. The villagers wel comed him cordially. The lads who had grown up with him took him to the tavern, and demanded that he tell them of, the strange sights he had seen during his long absence. Jano related what he had heard others say, and what he had read In looks. It waa like gospel truth to the young men, who had never been twenty miles away from their Village. After the first days of greeting Jano hired out as a farm hand and worked untiringly. In the evening Kntha, his sweetheart,' came to the little house, and the three sat together and made plans for the future, when Katba and Jano would be man and wife. Soon Jano forgot the ugly past It seemed like a dream that had nigh wearied Mother Kathrine and her' son to death. . ' , One sultry afternoon Jano came along the dusty turnpike with his rake over his shoulder.' Toward. hbn trun dled the bent and rnggedr-flure of a man. A tramp, 'thought Jano, then stopped suddenly, pale as death'. The beggar, too, made halt, when be saw Jano. . ' .' "Halloo!" cried he, with a sneer, "my nia,te from No. J. Don't you know me? Lanky Jake, your old cell-mate Whafiln God's name do you: want here?" stammered Jano. ; The beggar; laughed. . "Picking up what J can get-rdon't.ypu see?" Jano put his band in his pocket and took out a dollar. 'Take that," he said, "and go away. Don't 'go' to tbe'vlllage, and don't tell anyone that you knpw me!" The ex -convict pocketed his coin. "Ashamed to know me, hey?" "Not that," said' Jano, with a shud der. "But they don't know here that I've been In prison. I'm leading an honest life." "I'd like to do that myself. Have no fear, I'll not tell 'em. ' You were good to jn In those day!" He laughed and hobbled away. Jano stood still and looked after blm till he disappeared from view. "The ' storm has passed," thought Jano and hurried home. He had scarcely turned when a good- "wait ot'Tsina rum, wb urrak tub NBW TO MKR." looking young peasant, who had watch ed the scene between the two, emerged from behind a thicket and hastened after the tramp. , That night In the tavern over glass upon glass of fiery wine and silver coins plied up to the height of Ave, the handsome young fanner learned from the tramp Jano secret He waa Jano' rival for the love of Katha, the pret tiest girl In the village. The next even ing Jano, a was hi wont, hastened to Katha at th end of hi day' labor, to bring her to bis home for th chat un der th apple, tree, and (fee walk tack through th blooming . field. This night Jane looked Into a pate, distress ed face, and eyes, frantic with fear, were riveted upon him. "Katha!" he said. "You are crying What troubles you?" Katba buried her face in her hands and sobbed aloud. "Katha, tell me, your lover!" He lift ed the bands from her face. "Jano," faltered the trembling lips, "by our love, tell me, Is It true, that you have not been around the world, but have been in prison the while?" Jano was horrified. "Katha who told you?" The girl paid no heed to his queetloa "Is It true Jano?" she reiterated. ; "Yes!" ' From the finger of her right hand Katha took the little gold band with which she had plighted her troth to him. She threw it at bis feet and left him. ' "Katha!" ' Jano did not rave. The blow stunned him and the loss of the girl seemed small when he thought of his mother. "Poor mother! You have hungered, and tortured, and stinted yourself for nothing. To-morrow everyone will yell It Into your face that your son is an ex-' convict, and your old days will be filled with shame and misery. Poor moth er!" The night was unusually dark, not even the stars came out. The crickets chirruped in the corn to lighten the gloom. The splash of the river was eery and sad, and from away off there came a shrill cry of anguish. In the dawn of the early morning a little procession wended Its way to ward the village. Two men carried a stretcher, over which a black cloth was thrown, outlining a human form. Be hind the bier strode the miller and the Justice. ' .. "I don't know how he got lnto the mill pond, but when We. found-him he was stone dead. He must' have come down with the current In tfie river." "I wonder," said the Justice. "I'm sorry for the old woman," con tinued the miller. "To be taken from her like this, after waiting so. many years for him!" . "Yes, poor old , Mother-Kathrine!" reiterated the Justice. They reached the little house, "Walt outside," -said the justice, - "till we break the news to her!" The sun was' on its upward way. The sky was aflame wfth red. Its reflex licked the tiny windows.- swished over, the white pine table, and, over the face of old Mother Kathrine, who sat with folded hands In her armchair. The small white head inclined upon the breast. A sweet, peaceful smile hov ered around the pale lips, only the wide-open eyes were glassy and set. She had been spared the blow. Old Not Hold His Peace. I attended a mountain wedding in McDowell County In West Virginia, said a poHtofflee Inspector. Everything went along smoothly at first. The cabin was brilliantly lighted with candles, and one of the best fiddlers hi the coun ty was present to furnish 'music for the dance' to follow the. wedding cere mony. Nothing occurred to mar the proceedings until the minister came to the point where he Invited any one Who had anything to say why the cou ple should not enter the bonds of mat rimony to speak or thereafter hold his peace, ' when a rough mountaineer arose and said: "Anything ter say, parson? Waal, I reckon J hev. I hev alius Intended ter marry .thet gal myself, an' thet feller knowed It, so he Jess kept outen my way.' I ent 'lm word ter' prepare for a llcklft' an' he lef the country, but kep' a wrifin' to the gal. Now, I'm here to make my word good, an' 'fore this hyar event goe any farder the taller-faced coward Jess has me ter fight" In vain the preacher tried to restore order. A ring was soon squared in the center of the room, and the men went at it. In about ten minutes the groom announced that he had enough, and the victor, taking the arm of the blush ing bride, deliberately changed the groom' name in the marriage license to hi own, while the, vanquished lover made bis escape. Everybody appeared to be satisfied, and the marriage took place as though nothing had occurred to mar the solemnity of the occasion. Jeany Llnd's Iast Appearance. 'The last time Jenny Llnd sang In public was on July 23, 1883, In the Spa, Malvern Hills, England, writes Mr. Raymond Maude, daughter of the "Swedish Nightingale," in the Ladles Home Journal. 'The concert was . In aid of the Railway Servants' Benevo lent Fund, and indeed was a red-letter day to the country ffolk who. came from all the country round with the modest clghteen-pence which secured them standing-room. On one, of my walks, during the last "sad week, I helped to nurse her, I found an old woman in. a remote cottage who eagerly asked for the 'good lady who wag so 111 up there.' Upon finding who I was she' assured me that it would have been worth even more stinting and a further walk to have had such a treat hi her old-age as that 'ng!hg." ' ' ;' " : Lived In Goat-Hair Tent. Rupshu, a district on the north slope of the Himalayas, 15,(X() feet above the sea level, and surrounded . by ' moun tain from 3.000 to 5,000 feet higher, ha a permanent population of 500 per sons who live In goat-hair tents all the year round. Water freezes there every night, but no snow rails on account of the dryness of the air. The people are shepherds and dress in pajamas and a long cloak, wearing an additional cloak in unusually cold weather. Not o Blow. Menellk's capital Will soon bav ail the attraction of Paris. f Tb Nru has ordered front a MinWiea artist a panorama of the defeat of the Italian. A woman does nor car now coM j ta"itb6n't(MftfN'MS).' "Carson," I said, Involuntarily, stoop ing to knock the ash from my cigar, "perhaps I ought not to ask, although I have known you for nearly three years, but la it usual for a wife to wear two wedding rings?" Dead silence. He had Just lowered his violin, after a very soft solo for It was considerable past midnight when I ventured that curious question. There had been an evening party, and, as I was to stay at the house till morning, Carson's wife had said "Good night," and left us to finish our inevita ble smoke and talk. His mouth twitch ed a little, but it was some time before he retorted in a low tone: "Is Is usual for a man well under 40 to have hair as white as mine?" "Well, perhaps not but I thought you' attributed that to' some shock or other. What lias that to do with with the two rings?" ' "Everything." He listened at ' the door, for, a moment, turned down the lights, and tben '.came and sat down, spreading his hands over the fire. 'Two .rings?,. .Exactly, one is the ring I. put on her finger wjen I married her; the second was put there by another man nd wilfetay there as long as the first."'' - "Never mind now," I said. His voice had trailed off huskily. "I had no idea there was any tragic element behind tho fact" , 'Tragic? Heavens! It was more than that, Arthur"," he whispered, turn ing up a drawn face. "I never meant to touch upon it, but when you spoke it came back with a rush as vivid as If I had been standing at the mouth of the old north shaft again. And that was six years ago. "You've heard me speak, at least, of the mine itself the Langley mine, in Derbyshire. I bad only been assistant surveyor" at the pits there for about nine months when it happened. "At 9 o'clock that morning, Arthur, three of us stepped into the cage old Jim Halllday, the foreman, his son Jim,' and myself; the men had gone down an hour before. "I shall never forget that young Jim's sweetheart had walked over to the pit with him, as she occasionally did. "They were to be married in a week or two, and she and she had on her finger the ring he had bought in Derby the day before Just for safety's sake, or perhaps out of womanly pride. "I recollect that Just as the chain clanked and the winter sunshine was disappearing overhead,, he shouted out a third 'Good-by!' to her little dream ing that It was to be good-by. Little enough old Halliday and I thought that days would elapse before we emerged Into God's sunlight again! v "A new vein had been bored the year before, and then abandoned because It ran In the direction of the river. We three bad had Instructions to widen It for a' space of 300 yards a piece of work that had occupied us nearly a month. "Old Jim picked and young Jim wheeled the coal away to the nearest gallery, from where It was carried over rails to the bottom of the main shaft. "Well, by 4 o'clock that afternoon we calculated roughly that we bad reach ed the limit laid down. " 'I think it's as near as possible, Mr. Carson,' old Halllday said. 'Jim, give another count, We don't want the water coming in.' .... "Jim went back. We could hear him. singing out the paoes iah1s light-hearted fashion as he returped. his voice echoing through the : long galleries. Two-slxty-ul'nepoo'ijil're; miles off It, dad!' H'Wasohlyva.score of years off, though. Two-sixty-nine two-seventy-four. It'H allow a full twenty yet, I recon.,';i""i; ."He had Jua. -finish bis count when but there, 'nnidcptjM properly de scribe It. It was sometulug ope bad to realize for himself beore he could un derstand a bare half of the sudden terror that w'hl to riedou rain's' a4 seem ed to bring our hearts to a standstill. 'There was a rumbling In one of the distant gallenles, and a sk;keufng trem bly of rlie.gr.undjUndprncjiTJ) us; then then the most paralyzlngi wuind, I do believe; that' lsMtrj be h'tfaid" in this world. ''"' ' ." ; ' ' "' "How or wliy. )t happened Js some thing to be placed' anioug ihe host of unsolved, uiy-Hterl.es; but there was one grinding, sirHntering roai4, as though the earth hud split in two pieces. '"Before' we ebuld stir hand or foot to save ourselves, before we could even tal " In that an explosion had occurred while we were guarding against an other sort ot danger, down thundered a mass of coal, tons upon tons of It, that blocked up the only passage leading to the shaft "It Just reached young Jim; standing where he did, be was struck down we heard his screech stifled beneath the debris. For about five more sec onds the earth seemed to be heaving and threatening universal Chaos; thou all became still as A tomb. "A tomb! We had our lamps, old Jim and I looked,' and saw that we were cut off from the rest of the world. "What happened next, I hardly know; I was stupefied with the shock, sick with a mortal fear of death. He and I stood staring mutely at each other. The one thing I recollect la that his face was gray as marble, sod that a KM of froth stood oh hi lips. "He was the first to come back to sebse. He gave one choking cry of "Jim!' and staggered back to that black pile. The boy's band was sticking out from the bottom of it, clutching con vulsively at nothing. I sat down and watched, in a sort of dreary fascina tion, as old Jim, uttering strange cries, tore at the mass In a mad frenzy. God help him! Jim was the only thing be had in the world to love. In less than five minutes he had dragged him out and sat down to hug him in his arms. "Dead? No; he could Just open his poor dust filled eyes In answer to his father's whispers; but we knew at once that he would never again make the galleries echo his piercing whistle. "For whole hours, I suppose, neither of us attempted to realize our situation. We sat on in the dead silence, waiting for something to happen. "Once or twice we saw young Jim's blackened lips move feebly, and each time his father would mutter brokenly, 'Ay, my precious boy, we'll look after her!' "Once the old man broke out, quiver ingly, Into the hymn, 'Abide with Me! but he got no further than the third line. That, perhaps, was about 8 o'clock, but: we could keep no count of the time, as my watch had stopped. "Hour after hour must have gone by, and still old Jim sat, with rigid face and staring eyes, clasping his burden. In all probability It was morning above ground before at last he spoke. " 'How long can we hold out, Mr. Car son? I'm feared to go. I've been a godless man all my time.' , "That aroused me. I examined our position carefully. The passage was about eight yards wide at this point, and measured about twenty paces from the end to where that solid wall of coal blocked our path to the outer world. As the bore ran level with the foot of the north shaft, we were about forty feet below the clear surface. We had no food, and our lamps would burn, say, another five or six hours; while the breathing air, hot and gaseous al ready, would probably become unen durable before the evening came. That was our situation, and let any man con ceive a worse if he can.. One slender chance of escape at the best left; per haps the entire passage was not block ed, and we might force our' way to the main gallery. I was not afraid Of death in the way that It comes to most people, but I was afraid tb meet and struggle with it there.' We sprang to the task, wild at the thought that those few hours of stupor might have made all the difference. , v-;i'' "You can guess what happened, and why, after a long spell of fighting to' break through that horrible wall, old Jim threw himself down with a groan "As rast as we loosened one mass, another crashed down ih lts place;' at the end of our. desperate. attempt we were half choked and Minded with dust, our hands were raw and we had made scarce any headway. ' "Barely, too, had we given up the work as hopeless when my lamp flick ered out; half an hour later old Jim's followed suit, 'TotaJ oblivion! As I sat and con templated our fate, a faintness of min gled hunger and despair crept over me. Young Jim, quite still, was propped up against the wall close by. VWlthin a-few feet of me sat his father; at times he would start up and shriek out in nameless terror at others he wduld catch up his pick and hack at the walls with the fury of a maniac. And worse was to come. "I think I must have fainted. I do not seem to recollect any more until the moment when I became conscious of my mate's hard breathing over me, and of the fact that his hand was feellng--or, so It seemed for my throat. I dashed away, panting under the shock of this new1 horror. " 'Jim,' I gasped, 'for heaven's sake, keep sane! If we're to go, let us die like men? "No answer; I heard him crawling away, and that was all. The' dead silence was only broken by a faint trickling sound. Trickling! "Yes; I put my hand to the level, and found half an inch of water and hot ter and more stifling grew the atmos phere. Traying hard to myself, I re alized now that, should no help come, only a few hours could live betwixt us and the end. And then old Jim might go first, and I should be left. Nay, I was already practically alone; the fear that was slowly whitening my hair and turned old Jim's brain. "He suddenly sent up a peal of de lirious laughter. 'Water! .Who says water? Why, mates, I'm swimming In it! Here's a go!' "Presently he lcgan creeping round ; . find me. I could hear him coming, by his labored respiration, and swish ing of tho ooze as he moved. "Round and round the space we went stealthily, dntll at last he made a cun ning rush and caught me by the ankle. 'Got him!' He yelled It with a glee that was unmistakable. "Mere, words could never convey the sensation of that moment Half suf focated, past all ordinary fear, I dosed with my poor old mate, and w went staggering to and fro across oar prison, until at last 1 managed to throw him so that his head struck heavily against tb' wall. "After that he lay quite stllL I be lieved at the time that I had killed him,' but we knew afterward that It was that blow which preserved his reason. 'The rest can be told In jt few words. After that I lay there like one In a dream, while the pestilential air slowly, 'dlit ltB work: , "Sometimes I fancied I could feel cqpt breezes J)lt wing dow.n on me, and sJatheBg heard some one tilling me to waTae'up- for the whistle bad sounded a.t the pits. "How long. I lay so, I can only con jecture. I really knew nothing more until I was roused by the sound of that coal barrier crashing down before the picks and spades of a dozen rescuers, and the hubbub from a dosen throats as they broke Into our tomb. . "Only Just time. Old Jim's face was only Just out of the water, and they said that no human being could have lived In that atmosphere for another two hours. And young Jim? well, there was Just enough life left in him to last three days. "Till the end of that third day, I kept to my bed; and then they sent to say that he was going, but that he wished to see me first. I reached the house In time to catch his last whis per. "You you'll take her, mate! Marry her no one else! Only only, you'lj let my ring stay there. Promise me that." "What could I do but promise? I had no thought then of marrying hi Sweetheart but it was his dying wish, and for years Jim and I had been like brothers. "Just a year later I asked her if there was any room in her heart for me, and and well, that's enough. Now you know why my wife wears two wedding rings." Saturday Evening Post. When Grant Visited Japan. "There was no pageant in General Grant's Journey round the world more imposing than the reception given by the Mikado atJapan's capital," writes John Russell . Young . in the Ladies' Home Journal. 'The United States steamer 'Richmond,' bearing General Grant and his party, steamed into Yo kohama, the harbor of Tokyo, escorted by the 'Ashuelot' and a Japanese man-of-war, on July 3, 1879. There was as sembled a fleet of war ships of other powers. At noon the Admiral's barge, flying General Grant's flag as ex-President, and conveying the General and his wife, Prince Dati, Minister Bing ham and Minister Yoshida, slowly pushed for the shore, and on the instant every naval vessel manned yards and fired the American national salute. The day was as beautiful as days of which we dream a blue, cloudless sky, a soothing, lapping sea. , The . sudden transformation from this sleepy, lazy, silent summer day, into the turbulence and danger Of war; the roar of cannon, the music every band playing an American air the manned yards, the pfficerSjOn deck in, full dress and salut jing"the..parge as It passed, the cheers of the multitude thronging the" shore, the fantastic ofay fire-works,' the can non;.' smoke: banking' into clouds, the . IWSft nWJPfc wj.th sjpw, steady stroke, all formed a brilliant and extraordinary . scene.. As. the AdWralty steps were approached there in waiting stood the imperial t niAura,.. luv ixiiuisieris uuu Lrtbfeftkgh 9dB of the realm, in the '6Bleor,,fitbeirrank and. station. As1 he Genepal stepped on shore the Jap anese guns, Jhundered.. their greeting, the bands played The "Star-Spangled Bannf and Mr Iwakura, the vener able. Prime- Minister, advanced, and, taking, the General's hand, In the name of the Emperor welcomed him to Jap an. Reaching Tokyo after an hour In the train, the city authorities met us with an address, and the Mikado's state carriage, through a continuous, double line of infantry standing at 'present,' conveyed the General to the Imperial Palace of Enrlokwan." Different Names for Waves. They have curiously different name for waves about'' the coast ' of Great Britain. The Peterhead folk call the large breakers that fall with a crash on the beach by the grim name of "Nor rawa (Norway) carpenter." On the low Lincolnshire coat as on the southwest ern Atlantic fronting shore of these islands, the gradually long unbroken waves are known as "rollers." Among East Anglians a heavy surf, tumbling in with an offshore wind, or In a calm, is called by the expressive name of a "slog;" while a well-marked swell, roll ing In Independently of any blowing, is called a "home." "There is no wind," a Suffolk fisherman will say, "but a nasty home on the beach." Suffolk men also speak of the "bark", of the surf, and a sea covered with foam la spoken of as "feather white." The foam itself Is known as "spoon drift." So, in the vernacular, we have It: "The sea was all a feather white with spoon drift." New York Marine Journal. (Hrange, Indeed. On the battlefield of Tel-el-Kebir an Irish doctor named O'Reilly was attend ing to the wounds of the British sol diers. A young guardsman doing active ser vice for the first time had got a sword cut on his arm what an old soldier would call a scratch. Tommy Atkins was crying out: "Oh, doctor, my arm! I shall die!" Dr. O'Reilly, getting tired of hi moaning, called out: : "Be alsy wid yer noise, now sure, ye' re makln' more noise than that poor feller down there wid his head cot off." Japan's Navy. Japan Is going to spend $40,000 la putting twelve young Japanese stu dents through a three years' course of Study of naval architecture and ma rine engineering in England. Xhjr will work as gentlemen ararentlcea With th great shipbuilding arm. , Aa you grow older, itrawtmrii more watery.