- BROUGHT BACK.
, "Excuse me disturbin’ you so early,
' sir, but there’s a gentleman ’ere witu
a cut ’ead, sir; an' Mrs. Tressider
thought perhaps you wouldn’t min at
tenin’ to It, sir."
"A gentleman with a cut head,’’ Dr.
Thorne repeated as he watched the
gray-haired old waiter draw up the
blind. "What’s he doing with a cut
head?’’
"There’s been a wreck during the
night, sir, of! the point; a schooner—
6he’s gone to pieces, but they’ve saved
, the crew. This gent was the only pas
senger, an’ they brought ’im on ’ere.
Didn’t you ’ear it blow, sir?
“Why, no,” the doctor answered. "I
dropped oft to sleep at once, and I
never woke until you knocked. Is the
gentleman badly hurt?”
"N—o, I shouldn’t say 'e is, at any
rate ’e made a capital breakfast, an’
' ’e’s smokin’ ’is cigar in the parlor now,
sir. ’E seems one of the 'ard sort, sir.
iWhy, ’e drunk as much brandy when
•'they brought 'im lu as would ’ave killed
i many a one."
.] “Well, tell him I'll be down in a
j few minutes,” Dr. Thorne said as he
'•‘ prepared to rise, and with a word of
assent the old waiter withdrew.
The window overlooked the sea, and
the masses of seaweed and heaps of
wreckage with which the beach was
strewn testified to the violence of the
storm.
Having completed his toilet, he at
once descended to the sitting-room.
The door was partly ujar, and he en
tered without knocking, only to stag
ger back with a loud cry as his eyes
rested on the man who was sitting
smoking by the fire. The man, a
broad-shouldered young fellow with
a handsome, reckless face, dropped his
cigar in astonishment.
"The d-e-v-i-1!” he ejnculated, slow
ly; then with a grim laugh, "Come
in, man. I'm not a ghost, though per
haps you think it."
Thorne—his face gray as the morn
ing sky—dropped into the nearest
chair. He seemed to be aging rapidly.
"Here, have a pull at the brandy,”
the other said, roughly. “I dare say it
does give a chap the funk when he sees
a man he thought had gone to uavy
Jones, an’ the one man in the world
he wanted there, eh? Gad, it’s a rum
go, is this. I suppose you’d given me
up long ago, er?”
"Ye-es,” Thorne stammered, wiping
his brow. "News reached us that the
Kangaroo had gone down with all
hands on board.”
“Ah, well, all hands didn't go down,”
the other replied, with a malicious grin
_ s, l
SHE WENT STRAIGHT TO HIM.
that the bandage round his temple ren
dered hideous. “Though it was a near
shave. I got hold of a spar and lashed
myself to it. Then I was chucked up
on a desert island—a regular Robinson
Crusoe. I lived there si\ months, prin
cipally on shellfish and seabirds’ eggs.
Then this Spanish chap picked me up,
and last night I was shipwrecked a
second time. However, I'm none the
worse for my adventures, with the ex
ception of a crack on the skull. A fall
ing‘Spar did that. That's my tale in a
nutshell. Now let’s hear about Loo?
You're not spliced to her yet, I hope."
“No, no.”
“But you are going to be. I'll lay a
dollar.”
“We—e are engaged," Thorne said
In a low voice.
“Gad! 1 knew it,” and he laughed
boisterously.
You see, the other went on In an
explanatory tone. "I thought you were
dead and the cared for me before you
took—before she met you. But of
course our engagement la at an end
now.'*
"I should think so. Indeed."
"Yes. 1 shall leave here at once. You
will explain perhaps-*•
"With pleasure. She la staying down
here, eh?"
"Yes; they have a collage."
"God? I'll try and toddle over when
I've had my head seen to. ll‘U be a
surprise for 'em."
"Wouldn’t It be better If you gave
them a little warning*' Thorne sag
Seeled. "The shock might prove-"
. Then perkepe you d Uhe-"
"No. no. 1 couldn't."
Hie eempeaktu laughed tad (hen
submitted himself to the other s skill
ful bauds, lu a few minutes Thorne
bed dressed the eut and he nt unco
vent up*talrs to pach. When he
reached hla room, however ho saak
late a that*. with that hopeieaa lu*»h la
hla eye# which only comae to a maa
when he lea os the woman he |s««n
Ilia story was a little out of com
men This was the seemed time he h*d
keen engaged lo the girl he should so
soon have led tn the altar Me had
made he* acquaintance dwrtag a vtntt
u» the country three years previously
the wee the dnugbtev ef « country per
an e pretty, shy gtrl who had spent j
every day of her eighteen years in the
seclusion of a sleepy hamlet In a day
ho learned to love her, but several
months passed before he dared sp'ia
of his love. Even then he had taken
her by surprise. She had yielded to
his passion, however, and they had
plighted their troth in the rectory gar
den. She was only a child and he was
a man—twelve years her senior, and
rendered grave beyond his years by a
long struggle against adverse circum
stances.
After that she had gone to London
to visit some friends. They were fash
ionable folk and they had laughed at
her simplicity; they had laughed also
at her big, awkward lover. They
brought her “out.” She met many
men—among them his cousin. He had
made love to her—in a fashion that
was the direct opposite of her lover’s
undemonstrative way—and she had
been dazzled, as a moth is dazzled by a
bright light.
So she had chosen. He had ac
cepted his fate without a word. It was
natural that she should care for this
younger man.
Then Craven’s friends found him an
easy berth In one of the colonies. *ie
was to proceed there at once, and at
the end of a year he was to return
home and marry her. He had suffered
shipwreck, however, and he had been
given up as dead. In due course
Thorne, whose love had not abated a
Jot, had renewed his suit. She nad
told him that her heart was with the
dead, that she could never love again,
but that if he liked to take her know
ing that—Well, once again they had
become engaged, and once again fate
had Intervened.
With a heart full of bitterness he
waited for the London train. It was
late, and he strode the narrow plat
form impatiently. He was eager to get
away. He meant to go away forever.
He would leave the country. He would
travel. In a fresh land, among fresh
people, perhaps he might forget.
Would it never come? He looked at
his watch for the twentieth time. Ho
seemed to be the only passenger. Yet,
stay—as a trail of smoke denoted the
train’s approach some one hurried on
the platform in breathless haste. It
was a girl, a pretty girl, but evidently
suffering from great agitation. She
gave a hurried glance up and down the
platform, and as she caught sight of
his motionless figure, she went straight
to Dim.
‘‘Ah, thank heaven I am In time,"
she gasped.
At the sound of her voice he fell
back and his bag dropped.
"Loo! you?" he cried. How did
you?—What do you?-"
"What do I want?” she said. "I
want you."
He stared at her In round-eyed
amazement.
"But—but you do not know," he
cried.
"I know everything.
"You—you have seen him?”
"Yes.”
There was a pause. A porter hurried
up.
"Goin‘, sir?”
"No,” she answered, quickly, and
taking his arm she drew him aside.
"Oh, John, It was ail a mistake!”
she said. "I was a silly girl—but it is
different now. You had my heart all
the time—but I did not know it. But
I know It now and—and I have come
to tell you, only I can’t tell you very
well here. See, the train has gone.
Come back with me.”
And be came.
NOVEL-THIEF CATCHING.
The Vulet'e Yellow-Stained Fingers Be
trayed Him.
A rich American, residing in the St.
George’s quarter in Paris, had been for
some little time past the victim of sys
tematic thefts, says the London Post.
Bank notes and money not left under
lock and key disappeared regularly. M.
Cornetto, the commissary of police,
was Informed of the robberies. He
found it would be impossible to keep
an effective watch on the bedroom
where the thefts occurred, but he
adopted a stratagem which turned out
successfully. A small vial containing
a mixture of picric acid and fuschlne
was placed in a metal case for holu
ing gold and a few Napoleons were
plAced on top. In order to get out the
gold the metal case had to be held up
side down, and then, of course, the
chemical preparation would run out
and stain the thief's hand a bright and
indelible yellow. As soon as some of
the gold was missed M. Oornette sum
moned all the servants to his presence.
The valst's fingers betrayed him. Re
alising the uselessness of denying
when caught yellow handed, the man
confessed and was duly locked up.
NriMt*' Wives.
One bright Idea of the club women la
the opening In towns of a “rent room,"
where the farmer's wife may stay on
Saturday. says tho Woman's Home
Companion With the latest uiag.tslnes
and the ever-com/orttng cup of ten.
this wesry weekly shopper may And
mental and bodily refreshment. This
work has been particularly espoused by
Missouri club women. In other parts
the farmer's wtfe is kwh lag out fur
herself, as Instanced at lapser. Ml<*h
la this town the wumea of the sur
rounding country have rented two
rooms la the courthouse. Koch mem
her furnished one yard of carpet, oae
chair, one cup nod saucer, and every
Aaiurday mow to spread lunch and
"Ulh things over" farmers' wives
away eoi west drive many mtta* over
rough mountains fur their oae social
pleasure the aMialhly literary stub
fbe big cMy clubs such aa the Heaver
th >atai club, oa the other hand reg
aiarly send period lea la and papers tu
the tamely eeases i*i remotely sit oat
id hr a thtscs tu belong to nay slab I
ENCLISH "CALL NICHT.”
How Student* Heroine Fall Fledged
Harris ten.
Recently "call night" of Hilary term
took place at the four inns of court.
"Call night," it may be premised, is
the night upon which those students of
the inn who have “eaten their din
ner,” or, in other words, have kept the
requisite number of terms, and who
have "satisfied the examiner In the
public examination,” are called to the
bar. It is usual for those who intend
to present themselves for "call” to dine
in the hall of the inn on “call night,”
and they must appear, says the Lon
don Mail, in the orthodox evening
dress. Shortly before the cloee of din
ner the "panniers” (superior beings of
the genus "waiter”) go around the hail
telling those whose intention it is to
ofTer themselves for the "call” that it
i3 time for them to begin to think of
something more important than the in
ner man. Such students then leave the
hall and, wearing their gowns and
bands, repair to the anteroom of the
benchers. While waiting there they
are marshaled in order of seniority—
i. e., as members of the inn—and are
shortly ushered into the presence of
the benchers, who are, in theatrical
parlance, “discovered” enjoying their
nuts and wine in true old-fashioned
style on the hard mahogany. The stu
dents, who are ranged around the ta
ble, are next supplied each with a
glass, and the "pannier” comes around
with decanters, giving choice of “port,
claret or Madeira.” When the glasses
are charged, the treasurer, or the
senior bencher present, addresses the
students with words of wisdom and en
couragement for the future. The curi
ous and observant might get a glimpse
into the characters of those budding
“counsel learned in the law” by watch
ing their faces and demeanor during
this harangue. Some look deeply in
terested, as if it were the most seri
ous moment in their lives, as, indeed, it
is; some try to follow suit, as they
think they ought to look solemn on
such an occasion; others look bored,
some amused, and many cast longing
glances at the brimming glasses they
hold, doubtless thinking “so near and
yet so far.” But all these things have
an end, even a treasurer's speech, and
at its close he .proposes the health of
the students. It is then the duty of the
senior student to reply, which ho is
expected to do in a few grateful words,
and, as one good turn deserves an
other, he proposes the health of "the
treasurer and the masters of the
bench,” which his fellows drink right
gladly, for, if the truth be told, they
most of them by this time think the
proceedings are beginning to get a lit
tle dry. It is all over; the glasses are
collected, and the quondam students
file out, fully enrolled members of the
noble army of "the briefless,” most to
fight, some to stand with honor and
distinction, and alas! not a few to fall
in the coming battle of life.
DIMINUTIVE LETTER.
Smallest That Ever ranged Through the
American Malls.
Possibly the smallest letter ever sent
through the United States mails, and
certainly as small as any could be to
carry the present postage stamps, was
received by Miss Grace Miley of Ander
son, Ind., last week from a friend at
Minden, Neb. So small, in fact, was
the tiny letter that, for fear of losing it
in some corner of a mail bag, the mail
clerks inclosed it in a little box, and
thu3 it was received at this end of the
line. The envelope is evidently “home
made.” It is just the size of a two
cent postage stamp. The front was
given over entirely to the address, and
the stamp covered all of the reverse,
and there was a little “fringe” hang
ing over. The postmaster, in cancel
ing the stamp at Minden, had to hit it
twice, and the Anderson postmaster
then added a mark indicating its ar
rival. The contents of the tiny envel
ope were as minute as the covering.
There was a sheet of paper just four
times the size of a postage stamp when
spread out. This was covered on each
side with writing that had to be fig
ured out with a magnifying glass. Still,
there were over 400 words in the tiny
envelope—a much larger number than
found In the ordinary friendship letter.
Mis# Miley will keep the letter as u
souvenir. — Cincinnati Commercial
Tribune.
--
EVIL RESULTS OF THE PIANO.
Instrument lisa lleeu the Cause of
Much nui»rrelln« aid Naffrrlnf.
The piano haa been the cause teter
ritna of quarrels that have sundered
ancient friendships; It haa wrecked
many enterprises of great pith and
moment; it has disturbed the liner ad- |
Just menu of the cerebral machinery In
many literary and scientific workers
has driven studious men from their
books to the bottle and haa atlmulat- I
ed peaceful ctllaen* to the commission
of violent crimes. These are among :
the evil effects of the piano corn id ■ j
ered passive, as the schoolman would
say from the point of view of the
sofferer. Hut the operator does not
come off acatkleea. A recent writer
Dr Wateahodl, thinks that Ik# rSto
re#* ami neuroses from which *o
maay young girls suffer may he targe
ly attributed to the ahus* of ihu pi
ano He therefore urges that the
“deadly" custom at compelling young
girls to hammer ua the her hoard Do
tore they are It or It yearn of ag*
should be proaertbad by puMte op!a
Ion Bvea at that age the eaurvtae
I :.«• perut tied *nl» to those ere.
ta addttivn to real least puassas a
robust coast it ultoa -Itrtush Medical
Juuraal
HE WANTS JUSTICE.
AS AN AMERICAN SAW THE
SULTAN.
He Seem* to Tblnk Himself Cruelly
MUumleratood —Quick nt Itepartec,
Which Ha* to lie Translated, and Full
of Ills Excuses.
From T. P. O'Connor's Mainly
About People: I had a talk a few days
ago with a young American who had
spent several years In Constantinople
as a secretary of legation, and he gave
me some interesting glimpses into the
character of the sultan. I should say
that, unlike myself—unlike most peo
ple in England—this young American
was rather an admirer personally of
the ruler of the Turkish empire, and
what he said must be taken with that
deduction. As to the sultan's dread
of assassination there is not the small
est doubt. His visits once a year to
the city—even his weekly visits to the
mosque to say his prayers—are pre
pared with an elaborateness that dis
plays the most constant dread of con
spiracy and conspirators. Thus it is.
for instance, that all the streets along
the land route are arranged in the
most careful manner for the passing
of the sultan. The banners are out,
the roads made smooth—everything Is
done which seems to prove that the
sultan is certain to go that way and to
return by the water route. At the
last moment the sultan goes by the
water route and returns by land. These
terrors are largely due to the fact that
the Armenians are the most capable
and reckless throwers of bombs in the
world. The Armenians in Constanti
nople are a strange mixture. While
they are ready to do such desperate
deeds, and to take all the consequences
to themselves as to others, they have
no power of making open resistance,
and apparently even little will to do
so. For instance, in that terrible riot
in which 7,000 Armenians were killed
a couple of years ago, eleven Armen
ians were standing in the streets, all
armed with crowbars. Nine Turks
with nothing but clubs came up. They
killed all the Armenians, who did not
even make an attempt at resistance.
If they had made any such attempt
they would undoubtedly have proved
the stronger. When my friend dis
cussed the extraordinary action of the
Armenians with an Armenian banker
he expressed no surprise. All he could
feel was admiration for the men who
had thus allowed themselves to be
massacred like sheep. They were pa
triots, he said; they wished to make
the massacres as bad as possible, so
as to bring about the intervention of
Europe. Although the sultan does
stand in fear of assassination, and al
though he is undoubtedly guarded
carefully, there are few If any signs of
this in his immediate neighborhood.
It is difficult to get access to the pal
ace, but once you are in there you see
fewer soldiers and fewer signs of pre
cautions than In Russia, or even in
Germany. You see nothing but ob
sequious servants. The sultan Im
presses immensely by his ability every
body who is brought Into close contact
with him. In all the years he had seen
him my American friend had never, he
said, seen him taken aback; never
without an answer, even when things
were hottest and darkest against him.
He has always a specious argument; a
historical Illustration—sometimes a
sly national recrimination—to urge in
defense of his own acts, and even of
the worst barbarities in his own king
dom. And he says all these thing.s
with perfect calm and self-possession;
indeed, as a gentleman who is pain
fully misunderstood. His repartees
are, perhaps, the easier to make be
cause he takes plenty of time to pre
pare them. For though undoubtedly
he understands French fairly well, it
is contrary to court etiquette that he
should speak In any language but
Turkish. Everything has to be in
terpreted. And yet now and then the
sultan, when he is taken off his guard,
utters a “Merci, monsieur,” or some
other short word in French, which
shows that his pretended inability to
converse in French Is like Oom Paul’s
professed ignorance of the English lan
guage.
Wind Couldn't Mop Hu Walch.
There is a singular but an absolutely
true story of a watch which went
through the cyclone. The timepiece,
which has been under fire and Is now
a veteran, was an old one of strong
build. When the storm struck, the
owner, whose name Is llryant, forgot
all about his valuables In the hustle
for safety. The watch was In the
drawer of the bureau. After the blow
was over. Mr llryant found himself al
most without a scratch, and went bach
to view the house. Me found nothing
but a landscape. Me began to search
about the ruins early the nest morn
ing. and here cornea the funny but true
part of It. In the bottom of an un
broken picket jar were Ike works uf
the wslch, licking sway, while the
sliver case rould not be found.—HI.
Pnul Dispatch
Owing T« Fee.
Where Is her asked Itoneo Hob
“The new teller with a diamond scarf
pin*'* asksd Derringer Han *Y«e I
ami seen him In two .Ism Me «o
wonderful n humous f,.f "
“Oh. he's gnn# hss# . sught up with
'l» " Weil. I dunao's lm surprised
Ms ail«s sc led libs he owned the
earth * Ws didn’t mind that Itui
when he kwk a notion that any bosses
that happened to be walkin' around on
bis earth belonged is hlgi we had to
lake action —Washington mar
SMOKING CONTESTS.
A Hundred Str-int Cigar* In Twelve
Hour*.
Smoking is the temperate as well as
the contemplative man's recreation,
and groat smokers are loth to exhibit
their tobacco-consuming abilities by
engaging in smoking contests. Still,
however, there have been some curious
tobacco-burning races, says London
Tit-Bits. In 1723 there was a great
smoking match at Oxford, a scaffold
being erected in front of an inn for the
accommodation of the competitors. The
conditions were that any one man or
woman who could smoke three ouuces
of tobacco first without drinking or
leaving the stage should have a prize
of 12 shillings. “Many tryed,” says
Hearne, "and 'twas thought that a
Journeyman taylour of St. Peter’s-ln
the-East would have been the victor,
he smoaking faster than and being
many pipes before the rest, but at last
he was so sick that 'twas thought he
would have dyed, and an old man that
had been a builder and smoaking gent
ly came off the conqueror, smoaking
the three ounces quite out, and he
told me that after It he smoaked four
or five pipes the same evening.” About
forty years ago a gentleman agreed to
smoke a pound weight of strong for
eign cigars In twelvo hours. The hun
dred cigars making up the pound were
ail to be smoked down to one-inch
butts. The match was decided on a
Thames steamer plying between Lon
don and Chelsea, and by taking up his
position well forward the smoker had
the full benefit of the wind. The
contest began at 10 a. m., and in the
first hour the smoker consumed sixteen
cigars. After nine hours' smaklng 86
had been disposed of, and with three
hours to go and only fourteen cigars
to smoke, the backer of time gave in.
The winner declared that he felt no
discomfiture during the contest, and
finished off the 100 cigars that even
ing. More recently a solid silver cl
gar case and 200 cigars were offered
to the smoker who consumed most
cigars in two hours. Food, drink and
medicine during the contest were for
bidden. There were seventeen en
tries. After the first hour ten com
petitors retired. The winner, who
smoked without pause from start to
finish, reduced ten large cigars to
ashes In the two hours, while the
nearest competitor only finished seven.
The people of Lille' are inveterate
smokers, and to decide the champion
ship of the town a smoking contest was
held. Each competitor was provided
with a pipe, fifty grams (about an
ounce and three-quarters) of tobacco
and a pot of beer. The one who smok
ed the tobacco first was to be the win
ner. At the signal the air was filled
with clouds of smoke. In thirteen
minutes a workingman 45 years of
age had reduced his weed to ashes,
while seven minutes later the second
man had finished his little smoke. Aft
er such herculean smoking matches it
is scarcely necessary to mention the
American contest, in which the win
ner smoked 100 cigarettes in six hours
and thirty-five minutes.
TURKEY HONORS OUR FOURTH
Kultun'a Iteprescntiitive liaised a Flag
on the Nation’s lllrtliday.
There are no less than thirty embas
sies and legations in the national capi
tal, representingg as many nations of
the globe. Of those only one recogniz
ed and participated In the universal
celebration of the most glorious Fourth
of July this country has known In
many years, says the Washington
Post. The residence of the Turkish
minister on Q street, near Eighteenth
street, 1b a very comfortable and at
tractive building. It was conspicuous
because from the flagstaff, which ex
tends from a second story window,
there was displayed a Turkish flag in
honor of this nation’s natal day. It
was flung to the breeze early in the
morning, almost as soon as the sun had
risen and when the morning air had
begun to echo the popping of thousands
of firecrackers. It was quite conspicu
Oils on me Btreet— its rich red ground,
with its white crescent, trtanding out
in marked contrast to the brilliant red,
white and blue of the national colors,
which were to be Been In all directions
along the street. It was not taken
down until sunset. Secretary of State
Hay was asked whether it was the cus
tom for the representatives of a for
eign nation to participate in the cele
bration of a national holiaay of the
country to which they are accredited.
"No," he said, "It Is not necessary.
Embassies and legations always cele
brate their own holidays by displaying
their own colors, but they do not of
ten recognise the holidays of the na
tion to which they are accredited.
"Hut the Turkish legation Is display
ing a Hag." was suggested. “The rela
tions between the foiled Slates and
Turkey." said Secretary Hay. with a
smile, "are very cordial Indeed The
sultan Is very friendly to us. The ac
tion of the Turkish minister Is a mark
of unusual friendliness, but the lack of
Rags at the other residence* Is by no
means a mark of disrespect," "|Md not
the American embassy in London raise
a flag In honor of the queen's birth
day*" "Oh. yes,” was the reply, "aau
we generally recognise grand occa
sions abroad ‘
IS* Haste*.
* Early to bed an' early to rise." mur
mured Meandering Mike. *th«ms my
sentiments " Hut you ve been nsleep
In n barn nil day." protested Wodding
Hete Which is p* what In telim*
*> *» In *>.a • arm wentbsr de only
proper programme la to retire early la
de moral*' an git up )s* before 4e
event* shad.-es gather an' makes
travel etml an tioutfor Vs Me " - W' oak
Ikftak Mar.
ULTIMATE FATE OF CHICAGO.
She May Itrennie a Victim of Labo
Michigan’* Water*.
The old story of the subsidence of
the shores of the southwestern portion
of the chain of great lakes has been re
vived and this time with a show of
real evidence, says the American Ar
chitect. According to Prof. Gilbert, in
the report of the geological survey, ac
tual measurements show that within
the last forty years the average level
of the water has fallen on Lake On
tario, as compared with the shore, two
or three inches, while It has risen
about as much at Chicago and Nfilwau
kee. According to Prof. Gilbert, the
greatest subsidence Is along a line run
ning from northeast to southwest, or
about twenty-seven degrees west of
south, and passing nearly through Chi
cago. As Chicago is built on low land,
nnythlng like serious subsidence is an
important matter; and, although it will
probably be 200 or 300 years before any
part of the city is submerged, the in
habitants of the Chicago of six gen
erations hence are not likely to be
any more fond of cold water than the
present ones, and there are indications
that subsidence has gone on Irregular
ly, so that a sudden movement might
have disastrous consequences. An
other peculiar result of the change of
level will be, in the course of years,
to throw the water of the lakes toward
the Mississippi. Already the streams
which flow into the western part of
Lake Erie and Lake Ontario, although
tolerably swift In their upper courses,
are nearly stagnant at their mouths,
owing to the backing up of the lako
water into them, and. In the low coun
try about Chicago, the continuance of
the movement will, In course, of time,
send the water of Lake Michigan
through the Chicago river Into the Mis
sissippi. Prof. Gilbert thinks that at
the present rate 500 or 600 years will
elapse before the lake water. In time
of freshet, will find its way in that
direction. In 1,500 years the flow will
be constant, and in 2,000 years the Chi
cago river and the Niaraga will carry
equal volumes of water. In 3,500 all the
water of the lakes will flow into the
Mississippi and the Niagara river will
be dry.
RAILROAD TROUBLES IN CUBA.
Tiling* Whlcli Rliake Up One’* Anatomy
and One'* Feeling*.
When one wishes to leave Havana by
rail to see something of the real Cuba
—say, to take a trip to Pinar del Rio
or .to Cienfuegos—he must get up very
early, says Harper's Weekly. The
through trains leave at 6 o’clock in the
morning. I asked the chief engineer of
the railroad to Pinar del Rio why so
early a start was made for a town only
10 miles away, and he said it was so
as to get back the same day. The
American traveler is not only likely
to grumble when he is compelled to
hurry to the station in the thick gloom
of the early morning, but when he
reaches the station and finds that he
must pay about 5 cents a mile In gold,
and from 7 to 8 cents a mile in Span
ish silver, to ride in the back-breaking
cars known as first-class carriages, and
that for an ordinary trunk he must
pay about half fare, he is inclined to
scoff at the primitive mode of travel,
and long for the luxury of the stage
coach journeying on a western moun
tain road. The amazing amount of
computation by the ticket agent be
fore he selU a ticket, the smoky lamps,
the three preliminary tootlngs by the
engine before the train starts, the final
ringing of a bell by the baggagemaster
as a signal that the train is really go
ing,the crowded condition of the aisles,
choked with luggage for which the pas
sengers do not care to pay toll, and
every man in the train, from the con
ductor down to the barefooted brake
man, smoking tobacco of varying de
grees of excellence—all this is likely
to weary the American traveler used
to the luxury of Pullman cars. A few
hard Jolts soon after the train leaves
the station bring up to the imagina
tion the prospect of a miserable trip,
and one is inclined at the very outset
to rail at the crudities of travel by
cars in the island of Cuba.
Haunted (Irava of llrltUh Offlrrr.
In Ahu Hanted. In the Soudan, la the
grave of a British officer which has the
reputation among the tribes of the
Soudan of being haunted. It Is the
resting place of Major Sidney of the
duke of Cornwall's light infantry, and
Bey In the Egyptian army, who was
shot while charging at the bead of his
regiment, the Tenth Soudanese, in
the battle of Abu Hatned, August 7,
1897. The natives are convinced that
It Is watched regularly every night by
the ghosts of the native soldiers who
were killed at Abu flamed, and who
mount guard over their dead com
mander's tomb, challenging, with
every military detail, all passers-by.
So Implicitly Is this legend credited by
the blacks that none of them will, after
dusk, approach lbs grave. Any one
doing so te believed to be promptly
bs'ted by a phantom sentry, and even
the words (in Arablcl Guard, turn
out!" are often plainly heard soma
distance off acroaa the desert
ranyktwlny lbs Test.
Marian. 4 year* old. la a running lu
ll# Mount Vernon girl, who attends the
Methodist Sunday school. Not long
»lars the guide* leal of (he week
t hanved to be the **r»> f m Matthew
j rommearlng "Ut your light so sbi*e "
Whs* Sunday rinu the little maid
! trolled off to Sunday school wilh her
elder brothers and sisters, and whs*
lb# teacher ashed her for the golds*
test * she promptly slid from bee seal
sad roavuiaad the class by re pest tag.
gravely: "Ksap your put burnt*'."—
I Truth