The Duke of Devonshire a Conser
vative Conservative
Premier Salisbury ha3 become Inex
pressibly bored with his high office.,
writes a London correspondent. He
has had everything he wanted in life
except peace, and he yearns for tha*.
He would like to potter about with
the chemical apparatus In his big la
boratory at Hatfield House, and would
rather experiment with liqucfleatlon
of hydrogen than control the destinies
of Europe. The only question now Is
whether he can persuade himself to go
on through the weary round with tba
next general election, which may come
In a few weeks, or may be put off till
next spring It Is thought not unlike
ly that he may retire the moment the
end of the Boer war is in sight. And
who comeg after him? The question
Is of commercial and political import
ance to the United States, and would
l>e highly Interesting even if it were
not Important. I have been asking
the question of several members of
parliament, and, better yet, of press
gallery veterans, and the answer al
most Invariably got around, after
some twisting and turning, the Duke
of Devonshire, not because lie was any
one's warm personal choice, but be
cause there was no one else on the
Conservative side who would make so
little trouble In party politics or In
national affairs. Even if Lord Salis
bury remains in office till the next
election, the answer remains the same,
for unless the war department involves
the government in some new disaster,
D is believed generally that the Con
servatives will be kept in power, al
though with a smaller majority.
The marquis became Duke of Devon
shire on the death of his father, the
seventh duke, in 1891. He is now 67,
plalnncgg Is the keynote of his life,
and the most simply furnished cham
ber in each of his houses Is his. To
this quietness of life his phenomenal
health is probably due. He never was
a personally attractive man; his face
Is heavy, his frame lacks grace and he
has no taste In dress. One of his
those who work and s»t the gold.
Murders, robberies and other crimes
of violence are of almost nightly oc
currences. When darkness falU it is
the signal to stay at home, and except
on nights when society functions and
entertainments draw the people out in
crowds it Is not often tliat any one
at o o’clock Judge Baker asked Walsh
| to witndraw the plea, inasumuch as
all the pleas arising from the work of
the recent grand Jury should go to
Judge Hutchinson on arraignments.
Walsh firmly deel!n»d. "Well, why
did you kill Gilchrist?" asked the
Judge. “During the Spanlsh-Amerloen
war I enlisted In the Second regiment
of Louisiana at New Orleans,” Walsh
replied. "Soon after I hail several
fights with other soldiers and I dis
covered that a conspiracy was on foot
to make me suffer something worse
than death. Gilchrist was In It. When
I came back to Chicago I saw him
make a sign which convinced me that
he was one of the men in the consplr
DIKE OS' DEVONSHIRE.
DUCHESS OE DEVONSHIRE.
is seen alone in the streets. The fear
of violence is ever present and the
people talk about the latest crime as
something of interest, but In no way
surprising.
ASKS TO BE HANGED.
I.. K. WmWIi IM.hcH Cutlty, I>ul HU Han
Ity I* <J||«*hI ftoiltMi.
"I plead guilty and I want to be
hanged," announced Lawrence E.
Walsh when lie was arraigned before
Judge Baker yesterday, charged with
the murder of Robert W. Gilchrist,
says the Chicago Chronicle. ‘ Do you
understand fully what you are about?"
asked the judge in surprise. "Are you
CHATSWORTH, HOME OF THE DU ICE OF DEVONSHIRE.
v vvw w
greatest characteristics is a faculty of
arriving just after the hour set for
the opening of parliament, a cabinet
meeting, function or what not, and the
caustic-Mr. Chamberlain once raised a
laugh by referring to his grace as the
' late leader.” Ills "got up” is usually
that of the country squire.
In the house of lords he sits with
his hat tilted over his eyebrows, his
body buried in a long, dark colored
coat with deep pockets, and one leg
thrown over the other, revealing a
stretch of drab stocking, invariably on
the point of coming down. His hair
and beard have grown wholly gray,
fnlike I^ord Salisbury, who never tises
a note, the duke, on rising, drags a
roll of manuscript from an inside
pocket, adjusts his eyeglasses, and.
standing in a loose attitude, drones out
his speech. Many parliamentarians
make an effective use of the pocket
handkerchief; the Duke of Devonshire
grips his tightly under his hands.
Tricks of oratory, the coining of happy
phrases, are beyond him, and what
meager success he has had in speech
making has come from ills common
s-n*e and candor.
In Dik'd the duke matried a woman
who was already a duchess the widow
of the Duke of Mam heater The mar
riage h.is of the most private nature,
• s the duchess' son. the late Duke of
Manchester, died in the satn- week.
Th« bride and h«r husband had been
firm friends for over thirty yeir* and
it was even said that th«-v had been
engaged before the mart tags to Mau
hester. but this ha* been denied with
posit ivrnesa.
Ituaatn • It li *«ImI !••««
Kiaanotar*k la not all a* good a* It
It,oka It I* one of th* moat notorious
c< liters «>f criuis In all dlherla am! vi*»
leave la so coinuiou that it U hardly
It bleed b» the townspeople oo til"
|‘hll olelphU I’reaa lltiwt* of viHet
t tlminals from Kuropean Hussii hit*
, H Itsl. tbUled o lit legion bum
d.gtely surrounding th* city for to a tv.
years past T»* gold mim In the
ytetalty bate helped *»* ati * t a law
teen visas, aid only to wwfh in th#
mine* as is usually t« some m' iu
Vh# tier hut to progt by t
aware that under your plea of guilty
the court can send you to the peniten
tiary for not less than fourteen years,
or for life, or may Inflict the death
penalty?" "Yes, 1 know all that. This
is a capital case and 1 want capital
punishment inflicted,' said the prison
er quickly. "I atn guilty and 1 enter
that plea. I killed that man and
therefore I am guilty.” "Take him
back to Jail," said Judge Raker. The
case will be put on the call for trial
soon. Walsh is believed to be mentally
unbalanced. March 21 he shot and
killed Robert W. Gilchrist, a barber at
1761 West Twenty-second street, with
out cause or provocation, it is said.
Just before the adjournment of court
acy. Then I decided to kill him."
Judgd Maker decided to let the plea of
the prisoner rest for a few days. It
is likely the court will enter a plea of
not guilty and that Walsh will be
tried as to his sanity. He was once
conflncd in the detention hospital.
WHITMAN HELPING! CHILDS.
I nlijiie employment Given to the Toot
by the Editor.
The poet Walt Whitman was, as Is
well known, dependent during most of
ills life upon the kindness of his
friends and admirers for a support. A
few years before his death one of these
friends called upon him in his little
house in Camden, a suburban town of
Philadelphia. “Well, Walt,” he said,
“how goes It this winter? Any sub
scriptions needed for Christmas?”
"No,” said Whitman; “no, I'm at work
now. I'm in the employ of George
Childs. He pays me $50 a month.”
“You at work! May I ask what Is your
occupation?" “Why, I ride in the
street cars. I fall into talk with the
drivers and conductors and find out
which of them have no overcoats and
guess at their size and notify Childs
and then he sends the overcoats. It's
not hard work,” said the poet,
thoughtfully. “And then, you know,
it helps Childs along.”
Juitlct.
While M. Constans, the artists, was
spending a day with President Lou
bet at Rambouiliet he was asked by
his host upon what subject he was
now engaged. "M. le President,” said
the other, “I am painting a big can
vas symbolizing justice.” “Indeed,
and how do you conceive her?”
Whereat the painter began to describe
his ideal in glowing words, speaking
from the heart as only an artist can
when delivering his soul to a sym
pathetic listener. But the president
quietly Interrupted him with a twinkle
in his eye. “Is that how you con
ceive justice?" he said. “Parfait! And
now would you like to know what she
really is. in point of fact, and in actual
life?” He rummaged in his pocket
and produced a coin, which he spun in
the air. “Head or tail!” he said. “That
is justice!”
About ’‘Milking Throe Time*.”
There is no truth whatever in the
belief that any one falling into the sea
necessarily rises and sinks three times
before drowning.
DOGS AS POLICEMEN.
All the world knows of the noble
work of llie dogs of St. Bernard, and
everybody has lipard of the German
military scheme to use dogs to succor
the wounded on the battlefield. But
the town of Ghent In Belgium, has In
troduced a distinct novelty In the use
of dogs by muklng policemen out of
hem. There are fifteen Belgian col
lies on the police force of that town,
the long haired, the short and the
rough-hatred ones, and one I’ieardy
dog besides. The dogs are trained i
Hist to obey policemen In uniform
only, and afterwards are Introduced to i
the residents. They are taught to I
swim and to gra»p obje.Ma In the wa- J
»•» »• m«* {HHijtta flow drown ill*
and lo l»4ii high ahtutflM Tit* Air
tSc* of th-* >1 >4 nmr* Iwf ■» ii lu
utUk at and An N iM m ua
morning. The animals are held in
leash by policemen until all the resi
dents are abed, when they are let
loose, and, each having Its particular
»
iOti«K wo>* ftr roc
CXX.1 xnlx Ox DUT.1
*40*1,
p.tlrttU tho •tr««U nnlM>i«Mly
M vlflUntly TM do* • l»u««
tuliai MI »h«! If it It MI4« k«d
ll utMl 'i* l». itii* Ul'9«l
DRIVEN MAD BY FORESTS.
In ilaa V * -I* ,\r* S.TiiJge
One of the woodmen had told me of
a waterfall on a trout stream of con
slderable size which emptied Into n
lake nearby us, and In the hope of
finding a subject on it, I took the boat
one afternoon and began to follow the
course of the stream up from the
mouth. After a half mile of clear and
navigable water It became so clogged
with fallen trees that more lifting than
paddling was required, and as Its
course was extremely tortuous 1 oc
casionally got out and examined the
vicinity of the stream bed and the
course above If perchance there might
be better navigation beyond. On one
of the digressions 1 suddenly came on
the stream running back on its pre
vious course and parallel to it In
stantly, in the twinkling of an eye, the
entire landscape seemed to have
changed its bearings; the sun, which
was clear in the sky, it being about
3 o'clock, shone to me out of the north,
and It was Impossible to convince my
self that my senses deceived me or ac
cept the fact that the sun must be In
the southwest, the general direction
from which the stream was flowing,
and that to get home again, 1 must
turn my back to it If 1 had lost my
boat, as seemed certain. Then began
to come over me. like an evil spell,
the bewilderment and the panic which
accompanied It and which, fortunately,
I recognized from the experiences I
knew of, and 1 was aware that If 1
gave way to It 1 was a lost man beyond
any iliiding by the woodsmen even If
they attempted to track me. Fresh
wolf tracks were plenty all along the
bank of that stream, panthers and
hears abounded In that section and
the wilderness beyond me was never
explored and hardly penetrable, so
dense was the undergrowth of dwarfed
firs and swamp cedars. 1 had one
terrible moment of clear consciousness
that If I went astray at that Juncture
no human being would ever know
where 1 was and the absolute necessity
of recovering my sense of the points
of the compass was clear to me. By
a strong effort of the will I repressed
the growing panic, sat down on a log
and covered my face with my hands
and waited—1 had no Idea how long—
but until I felt quite calm, and when
I looked out on the landscape again I
found the sun in his proper place and
the landscape as I had known it. I
walked bark to my boat without diffi
culty and wpnt home and I never lost
my head again while 1 frequented the
wilderness.—Atlantic Monthly.
WHAT RAN ACROSS FLOOR.
A ToililUr’. Joke Makes the lather
Ini teil.
A Lake View father hart impressed
his little son with the value of observ
ing things and reporting anything that
seemed strange and interesting
Though not more than 5 years old. he
had already taken his father's advice,
although his reported discoveries of a
halo around the moon and the manner
in which the hens scratched up the
early vegetables were more enthus
iastic than valuable. The other day
he came running In to his father in
great excitement and said: "Oh. papa
1 Just seed something run across the
kitchen floor!” "Hats!" exclaimed his
father In amusement. "No, it wasn't
wats.” "Cats?” "No, it wasn't cats
either.” "A dog—a bowwow?” "No,"
he continued, In great glee at puzzling
his father. "You?” "No.” ‘Brother
Tommy?” "No.” "Little sister?"
"No. It was something that hasn't
any legs.” "A worm?” "No.” "A
snake?” "No, it wasn't a snake.” By
this time the boy had excited his fa
ther's curosity, but exhausted his
knowledge. So he had to say: “What
was it? I can't guess.” "Why, papa,
It was Just some water."—Chicago
Chronicle.
Man and Ktlrd In Collision.
A dove winging its flight ovei the
tracks of the Southern Hallway near
Juliet, in Georgia, collided with a pas
senger train going in the opposite di
rection at a high rate of speed. The
bird's body plunged through the glass
window of the cab. Its beak, sharp
as a needle point, pierced the right eye
of Engineer Charles Wallace, and the
surgeon say It destroyed the engineer's
sight temporarily, and possibly per
manently. The dove was killed by the
sudden contact with the cab window
Its quivering body fell on the Iron
floor of the cub, after striking the en
gineer. an<l was picked up by the fire
man. So great was the momentum of
the train and the dove's body that the
glass window was not smashed by the
blow of the collision. The hole through
which the bird was hurled was dean
rut. like that made by a bullet fired
through gluafl.
KaUrr'a Muutuclie < url.
Emperor Wllliani has had lo aban
d<m that peculiar cm I of the mustache
which has helped to make the kaiser
famous because Haby, the Imperial
bather, ami the only man that knew
how tu do It. h»» been dismissed for
impudence and for trading on the
royal favor he enjoyed
JotinirM Momlitl Him! I tn.1i.4
Ou »<• omit of h- gr*M| h»\it of th«*
middle of the day in Egypt a eatavan
Journeys in the early morning and In
the eviith* During the heat of the
noon hours the tent* are pitchel and
men and beauts get through it a > best
they 1 an
!•••» %liVH «|W|ll 'tHtHUIl
Uov. t hail** II Allen of Hurts It. >
possesses among His other uuslir a
t ions for that pi a -e a thorough gnus l
edge of ;<jkittt*h »ht b Ss is « lid la
it tk like a ait re
KNOW HOW TO DIE. I
A WRITER S TRIBUTE TO THE
BOERS
And a Cir^phlr P#n rirtura of Pathctlo
Iurl«lent« on iho — Kem*rk
nbl0 DfTotlon to One Another—De
scription of a Fight.
The pathos and awful tragedy of
the war in South Africa are admirably
painted by a British writer, who at
one time was a prisoner among the
Boers. I was only a prisoner in their
hands for about a month, he says,
yet every moment of that time was
so fraught with Interest that I fancy
l picked up more of the real nature
of the Boers than I Hhould hnve done
under ordinary circumstances In n
couple of years. I was moved from
laager to laager along their fighting
line; saw them at work with their
rifles; saw them come in from more
than one tough skirmish, bringing
their dead ami wounded with them;
saw them when they had triumphed
and saw them when they had been
whipped; saw them going to their
farms to be welcomed by wife and
children; saw them leaving home with
a wife's sobs In their ears and child
ren’s loving kls«es on their Ups. I
saw some of these old gray heads
shattered by our shells, dying grimly,
with knitted blows Hnd fiercely
clenched Jaws; saw some of their
beardless boys sobbing their souls out
as the life blood dyed the African
heath. I saw some passing over the
border line which divides life and
death, with a ring of stern-browed
comrades around them, leaning upon
their rifles, while a brother or a father
knelt and pressed the baud of him
whose feet were on the verv thresh
hold of the land beyond the shallows
1 saw others smiling up Into the faces
of women—the poor, pain-drawn faces
of the dying looking less haggard and
worn than the anguish-stricken feat
ures of their womanhood who knelt to
comfort them In that last awful hour
—In the hour which divides time from
eternity, the sunlight of lusty life
from the shadows of unsearchable
death. Those things I have seen, and
In the ears of ICnglish men and wo
men let me say, as one who knows
and fain would speak the plain, un
gllded truth concerning friend or foe,
that not alone beneath the British
flag are heroes found. Not alone at the
breasts of British matrons ace brave
men suckied: for. as my soul llveth.
whether their cause be Just or unjust,
whether the right or the wrong of this
war be with them—whether the blood
of the hundreds that have fallen since
the first rifle spoke defiance shall
speak for or against them at the day
of judgment— they at least know how
to die; and when a man has given his
life for the cause he believes in he Is
proven worthy even of his worst en
emy's respect. And it seems to me
that the British nation, with its long
roll of heroic deeds, wrought the
world over, from Africa to Iceland,
can well afford to honor the splendid
bravery and self-sacrifice of these
rude, untutored tillers of the soil. I
have seen them die. Once as I lay
a prisoner In a rocky ravine, all
through the hot afternoon, I heard
the rifles snapping like hounds around
a cornered beast. 1 watched the Boers
as tiiey moved from cover to rover,
one here, one there, a little farther on
a couple In a place of vantage, again
In a natural fortress a group of eight;
so they were placed as far as my eye
could reach. The British force I
could not see at all. They were out
on the veldt, and the kopjes hid them
from me; but I could bear the regu
lar roar and ripple of their disciplined
volleys, and in course of time, by
watching the action of the Boers, I
could anticipate the sound.
They watched our officers, and when
the signal to Are was given they
dropped behind cover with such speed
and certainty that seldom a man was
hit. Then, when the readen hail had
ceased to fall upon the rocks, they
sprang out again and gave our fel
lows lead for lead. After a while
our gunners seemed to locate them,
and the shells came through the air
snarling savagely, as leopards snarl
before they spring, and the flying
schrapnel reached many of the Boers,
wounding, maiming or killing them;
yet they held their positions with in
domitable pluck, those who were not
hit leaping out. regardless of personal
danger, to pick up those who were
wounded. They were a strange, mot
ley looking crowd, dressed In all
kinds of common farming apparel.
Just such a crowd as one Is apt to see
In a far Inland shearing shed In
Australia, hut no man with a man's
heart in his body could help admtriug
their devotion to one another or their
loyalty to the cause for which they
were risking their lives.
One night I saw which will atuy
with me while memory lasts. They
had placed me under a wagon, be
neath a mass of overhanging rocks
for safety, amt there they brought two
I wounded men One was u man of 8t>,
I a hard old veteran with a complexion
as dark as a New Zealand Maori, The
heard that framed his rugged face wm
three fourths gray; his hands were a
rough and knottel by open air toil
as the hoofs of a working steer. It*
| looked what he was i li ter of mixed
i Dutch and I'rcn ii lineage latter on I
: got Into Conversation with hm ,»nd
| he told me a go-id deal of hin life
III - f.«lh< W i-> de, "I. ted fi >ni «*l.
the old Dutch families who ha I me
■rated to Hooth Africa in »ear» h of
I religious liberty In the <>t i «ta» - wb*n
i the countt > was a wit terness Ilia
' mother had come tn an unbroken lip.
from na of the it-dale f no lie o
I'-am all i ft»d ft tr U‘ io la th
days of the terrlb1» persecution of tha
Huguenots, He himself had been
many things—hunter, trader, farmer
and fighting man He hal fought
against the natives and he had fought
against our people. The younger man
was his son, a tall, fair fellow, scarce
ly more than a strippling. and l had
no need to be a prophet to tell that
his very hours were numbered. Both
men had been wounded by one of our
shells, and it was pitiful to watch
them as they lay side by aide, the
elder holding the hand of the younger
in a loving clasp, while with hla other
hand he stroked the boyish face with
gestures that were infinitely pathetic.
Just as the stars were coming ouf
that night between the clouds that
floated over us the Boer boy sobbed
his young life out, and all through
the long watches of that mournful
darkness the father lay with his dear
laddie's hand in his. The pain of his
own wounds must have been dread
ful, but I heard no moan of anguish
front his lips. When at the dawning
they came to take the dead boy from
the living man the stern old warrior
simply pressed his grizzled lips to the
cold face, and then turned his gray
heard to the hard earth and made no
further sign. I
HEAT CREAKS THERMOMETER.
Arizona lla» Siiinnirr Wratlirr That
4'Hmm! Hr Itrrnrilrtl.
The cottonwoods have shed their
caterpillars, there has been a thunder
storm, mesqultc wood lias fallen la
price, Indians are selling bows and
arrows, the rose and the oleander
have long been out, oranges are in
bloom, the umbrella tree Is putting
out Its leaves, last summer's suit has
been cleaned and pressed, the
small boy has gone swimming In the
canal, the wise man stays up nights
and steals irrigation water from his
neighbors, alfalfa Is almost ready to
cut, atrawherries have been shipped,
mulberries are nearly ripe, summer
will soon be here and the Phoenix
summer bedroom will soon be nec
essary. Phoenix sleeps out of doors
in the summer anil the bedroom is
born out of that necessity. It la on
stilts, is built of wire screen of fine
mesh, for the Phoenix mosquito is
microscopic in size it Is furnished
according to the taste of the occu
pant, with interior curtains to keep
out the morning sun, the gaze of the
curious and the sand storm. The bed
is a cot of canvas or woven wire, cov
ered, perhaps, with a sheet, but even
a sheet feels like a featherbed on a
Phoenix summer night. The bed cov
ering Is the roof of the bedroom, and
careless folks who consult their com
fort only don't wear nightshirts.
Phoenix la proud of its climate dur
ing eight months of the year, but it
doesn’t talk much In public about Its
midsummer. It is a right warm day
when the government weather bureau
doesn’t know what the sun tempera
ture is and is unable to determine it,
and that Is how hot it gets in Phoe
nix. I called on Observer Burns ono
day last July and asked him what the
“official" temperature was in the sun.
Me said he did not know and that the
government couldn't afford to experi
ment to that end. He said he had at
tempted to catch the sun temperature
during the summer of 1898 and had
broken a $9 thermometer in the at
tempt. To please my curiosity he
hung a thermometer in the sun,
watched it until it registered 130 de
grees, and then took it in, fearing it
would break. The dryness of the at
mosphere relieves this great heat of
any terrors to all living things except
women and cats. -Phoenix Graphic.
HrKourifn of Culture.
A distinguished lecturer once told a
story of an engagement he had made
to deliver a discourse in cito of the
interior towns, on the subject of “The
Beacon Lights of Civilization." “I
reached the place," he said, “a little
behind time, and went directly to the
hall. A large audience had assembled.
I was Introduced in due form by the
president of the literary society un
der whose auspices I was to appear,
and laying my manuscript on the desk
before me I opened it and waited a
moment for the appaluso to subside.
Imagine my horror when 1 found I
had accidentally brought along the
wrong lecture—one on the ‘Wonders
of Modern Klectrical Science'!" “What
did you do?" asked one of the group
to whom lie was narrating the inci
dent. "I went right ahead," he re
plied. “The audience didn't know 'iie
difference."- Youths' Companion.
TIm* Only !MIT«*r •»!»«•••.
“Did you ever my dressmaker,
lohn?" waked the wife, leading up to
the unpleasant subject of that person's
bill. "She's so awfully small: tli • most
pitite little thing I ever-"
"Come! Out with it'" exclaimed the
gnat brute. What are you driving
at?"
"Well er I was going to remark
on the similarity between the size of
her bill sml her own —"
"My dear madam," he Interrupted
"the difference between her and hei
bill is only s question of pronun is
lion She l» not a lull modiste an I
her hill Is not at all mod »t " Catholic
| Standard sml Time.
Itiirittdit't l'Mt»i r »if r.
.lodge tlriibh of llelitware, hat t
high opinion of evSenator \ I* tlor
man's power t>f silence We i# been
I »|w ndiiig a *uaamc; a* friends for a
I dozen year, at the .atm* hotel, h •
! recently sai l to tiorman “and I it
I told you everything there it to tell
I about no>«It where*, you never t«»hl
[ pie a thing William Hr van is fond
of htdi and has a good sited * aer*
i! i tiv nut he ii • little foj 4,4
1 an# rt.elj »
sap
ture gz.
I
