Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 29, 1904)
by Imary devereux ITTU It ■ ■ •_ ‘*TTH fLLUSTPATtON5 BY DON C. W?L50N £P&2, £y £ ffffc. Snow/, arxf C&np&ny) C4/J JPeserHPc/j CHAPTER XI. Soon after midnight, with a soulh :,ou 'w'*st wind that was all the ' Black 5 etrel could desire for a speedy fill 1 ng of h^r sails, the ship started north ward. to a safe retreat—the island Known to Laro and his followers as -he "Barra de Hierro.*’ The day was coming, gray and ne<i\> looking, with a misty cloud oank in the east promising fog later 3n* Overhead, the pale dawn was ex tinguishing the stars above the sea that stretched, a dull green floor, in every direction. Lafitte. asleep in his cabin, was aroused by a knocking upon the door; and, to his instant query, Garonne's voice replied, with a suggestion of sat isfaction in its gruff tone, ' She is after us, sir, sure enougn.w "Where away?" demand Lafitte. when he had admitted the mate, and was making himself ready to go on deck. Laro was already there, for he could be heard shouting to his men. ' Hear) up the shot, Lopez!” he roar ed. "Heap them knee-high, I say; for that cursed Britisher shall swallow them by the wholesale if she comes mc-ddling here!” "Where away. I say?” Lafitte re peated, with a note of sternness, as <Jaronne, instead of answering, had paused in the doorway, and was look ing intently over his shoulder at some thing in the main cabin. “Three points on the starboard bow, sir,” the mate now- hastened to say, with an apologetic gesture. “She is not yet to be made out clearly; but the lookout reports her as very like the man-of-war we left in Fort Royal last night.” nen i.ahtte came from his room he found Garonne, who had left him a few minutes before, still standing in the outer cabin, and looking around keenly, as if something were amiss. Lafirte questioned him, and he re plied that when entering the former's cabin he had seen the Indian, Ehe wah, glide from that of Laro, and dis appear hastily, as though not wishing to be observed. Lafitte laughed lightly. "If he was in there while you were i knocking at my door, Garonne, he would scarcely, unless he has sudden i ly become deaf, fail to realize that he would surely be seen coming out. [What cause for suspicion can lie in his coming here? You know well that be is in the habit of doing so, and thfif Captain Laro permits it.” Garonne growled something under his breath—doubtless, profanity: but this was suppressed, as Lafitte seldom failed to emphasize his disapproval of such language in his presence. "Have ycu a positive reason for sus pecting anything wrong from Efce I wonder—aye, oft do I wonder, has my love of thee brought thee to last ing evil? I have been rough with thee, lad, at times; aye. surely I have of late. But my love for thee is the same this day as it has ever been. Never doubt that, Jean, my lad, what ever befalls 1” Startled at the manifestation of such a mood in Laro. Lafitte looked at him with a silence due to amazement. “I had a strange dream last night, Jean,” continued Laro, in a tone curi ously unlike his usual one; ‘‘a dream I feel is meant as a warning. I have Indian blood in my veins, and so you can better understand the dream, and what it means to me, for it comes only to those of my race whose end is near. But I have no fear, and care nothing as to howr my end comes— whether it be by shot, shell, or the sword.” He stood more erect as he said this, and spoke with an air of braggadocio. “But somehow it has stirred old times t£ light, Jean—this dream of mine,” he added, relapsing into the odd softness of look and voice. “Rouse yourself, Lara—what has come to you?” said I.afitte sharply; for he was beginning to wonder if this were anything more than a new phase of maudlin excitement. But Laro remained silent, his eyes fixed,, upon the deck. “What is this dream which seems to have affected you so powerfully?” presently inquired Lafitte, thinking that perhaps it might be better to humor Laro than to show disrespect for his peculiar mood. The bread brown hand went again to rest upon Lafitte’s shoulder, and Laro looked off over the sea with eyes which seemed for the moment to have lost all interest in the approaching vessel. “It was this, my lad: I sat at a table heaped with fruits and wines, and about me was such as makes the heart of man glad to be alive. But sudden ly there came a flash of lightning, with an awful peal of thunder, and. i looking out upon a portico near me. I saw a form clad like an Indian warrior j riding a horse black as the gates of hell. Straight up the steps of the por tico the steed galloped, and into the room, where it circled around the table, until the warrior drew his bow and let fly an arrow that struck my ! glass, and sent the wine, blood-red, pouring ov«r me and my guests in a stream which grew, and grew, until it was a red river flowing over the table, and washing it away, and I awoke, shivering, to see Ehewah standing by my bunk, telling me that a craft was in sight which looked like the English man.” ‘ Laro’s bearing, so changed and soft 1 --—__i Garonne growled something under his breath. wah's being here now?” he demand ed sternly. “Only that he has not been coming about here of late,” said Garonne sulkily. “Has he been forbidden to do so?” was LaStte’s next question, and Ga ronne admitted that he had not. Then 1-afiue, dismissing the subject, went above, followed by the mate, who, as the former had long known, was about the only man among his followers who had, in secret, but little liking for him. The sun had lifted above the hori zon. but its rays were dulled by the low-lying cloudiness stretching away across the zenith from end to end. as would a gray wall. To the southward the sky was clear, and defined against it like a phantom ship that seemed to be sailing toward the “Black Petrel” was a large craft, which, growing more and more distinct, appeared to have fresher wind than that now par tially filling the brigantine's sails. Laro, standing beside Lafitte. as they both watched her, muttered a curse. She is getting the benefit of what we have had and left, in the way of breeze. But we'll trust the devil to foul her hereabouts, and help us to better wind farther along, although I am of half a mind to let her catch us. If that be her intention, and then, if she tarries to ask impertinent ques tions. give her a good dose of iron.” “Better keep away and mind our own matters, unless she has the wish, and gets the chance, to interfere with us,” replied Lafitte, moodily. Both men were silent for a while, as they wrfehed the stranger drawing nearer. Then there came a noticeable softening of Laro’s face as he turned suddenly to Lafitte, and laying a hand on his shoulder, said, in a tone which caused the dark eyes to turn from the approaching ship and rest wonder Ingly upon the speaker, “Jean, lad. dost remember the old days, when we first met at Le Chien Heureux, where I taught thee to sing ‘As tides that flow—as winds that blow’? Mad re de Dk»—but thou wert a boy to aay nun's heart hold thee close, as mine has done all these years. And enea, no less than the dream he had related, made Lafitte feel at a loss what to say. He could not deny that the recital had affected him strangely, seeming to bring him into closer touch with Laro as the latter added, “I have -always known that to dream of this Indian and his black horse means death to one of my family.” The pressure of his hand grew heav ier upon Lafitte's shoulder, and he raised his eye3. now filled with a soft j er expression than the young man had ! e\er seen them bold. ‘ Jean, my lad, if anything happens ! to me, you will always take care of Lazalie? Even though you have no love to give the girl, you will let no harm come to her?” The sound of her name brought La filte to his proper senses, and the per plexed look vanished from his face as he exclaimed, "Mon dieu, Laro—what \ nonsense are you talking? You. to be ; so upset by a mere dream! Drop all ; thought of it, and give your mind to more important matters, for if we are | to reach the Barra de Hierro this night we must put aside such unsub stantial things as dreams, and keep a I lookout for the Englishman.” The stranger was surely drawing nearer, and the past twenty minutes i had brought her close enough to be j made out distinctly. She was, beyond | doubt, a man-of-war. and presumably ; the same that had been the brigan | tine’s neighbor in Fort Royal harbor. “Have you the gun in prime order, Lopez?” asked Lafitte, who now came and stood beside the old gunner. “Ah, that you have, I see,” he added with a smile, after glancing at it, now dh vested of its tarpaulin covering, “and I look to you for its proper handling, should occasion arise.” Lopez, who stood with his assistants clustered around him, replied with a grin, "Never you fear, my captain, but that the gun and myself will give a proper account of ourselves.” There now came a about from aloft, the lookout announcing that the ap proaching vessel was the EngHahman, and that lie seemed to he preparing for action. with ns?” muttered Garonne, standing near the group about the gun, and Lafitte noted the gleam of hatred chat, for the second, made Ehewah’s face fiendish as he glanced at the speaker. "Wind or no wind,” returned Lopez, in a growl, ‘ we are taking our own course, and if yonder gentlemen trouble us. their own fault it will be il burnt fingers they get for meddling.” “Stand by to take in the stun-sails!” the voice of Laro broke in. The cap tain seemed to have recovered fully from his recent mood, and to have for gotten the dream that inspire it “Lively, you dogs!” he shouted “Lively, there, and if that craft wants to overhaul us, let her make the trial.” The “Black Petrel” now changed her course, and the other vessel did the same, this indicating that she in tended to give chase, but the brigan tine was by far the better sailer, and, had Laro chosen to run southward, he might have escaped. This, however, would have carried the “Black Petrel” away from hei proposed destination, a thing that La fitte, no less than Laro. scorned to per mit. especially as the pursuer was of a nation hated by both of them. They were therefore of one mind in the de termination not to submit to personal inconvenience on account of the Eng iishman. The latter drew still closer as the day wore on, when a little after noon, the fog bank, which had been prom ised at sunrise, rolled in over the sea, enveloping pursuer and pursued as in the folds of a heavy blanket. Lafitte was for keeping straight tc their course, but Laro, with sulky persistence, claimed that their better plan would be to anchor. He knew that early the next morning—should the fog lift by sunset—he could reckon upon reaching the channel flowing in ward to the Barra de Hierro, and, al though its bars and reefs, while fa miliar to himself and his men, guarded a course the stranger could not follow in safety, he did not care to risk point ing out the way to his island retreat (To be continued.) CHASED BY A WHITE WHALE, Fishermen Escape Only by Rowing Into Shallow Water. Spouting and thrashing the watei with his big tail, the monster whitf whale, which has been sporting off the north shore from Lynn to Rock port for two weks, gave two Beverlj fishermen a chase. Friday Captain John Haskell, whc commands the steam yacht Aurora owned by Dudley L. Pickman. a Bev erly summer colonist, was out fishing when the whale came up near him The whale spouted and acted ugly, st that Captain Haskell, experienced a? he Is, began to glance shoreward and figure on the distance to the beach. The whale began to hit up his speed and Captain Haskell began tr bend to the oar. Hoping to stop thf fish, Captain Haskell threw one of thf oars overboard, and then bent dowr again. He did not watch to se< whether the fish swallowed the timbei or not, but pulled hard for the shallow water and was soon out of danger. Former Alderman Fred W. Trowt o Beverly Farms, also had an experienc* with the monster which he does no care to repeat. He was out fishing of Pride's crossing when the whale sud denly appeared, headed directly for the tenderboat. The former aldermai concluded that discretion was the bet ter part of valor and began to hit ug a fast stroke toward the beach. H* also escaped the fish by running i >nto shallow water, the whale being unable to follow him it. The whale is a good-sized one. anr Gloucester fishermen are talking o' organizing a whaling party and hopf to capture the white prize.—New York Herald. Germany Has a Perfect System for the Collection of Debts. Writing from Bamberg, Consul W Bardel calls attention to a German way of doing things. “The most influential and most im portant credit agency,” he says, “is an association called the Verein Creditre foim. This association is composed ol the best element of bankers, manufac turers. merchants and tradespeople iD over 400 cities in Germany, 175 in Austria-Hungary, 75 in the Nether lands and with branches in every larg( city of Europe. While these work en tircly independent each in its own dis trict, they exchange their experiences in a systematic and honest way. ‘ The object is to look after delin quent debtors, to inquire carefully into the solidity of business houses and t< give verbal or w ritten reports on theii standing. A responsible secretary is constantly in charge of each office. His pay depends upon the amount of fee? paid by the members. The associa ticns issue cards of introduction foi the use of traveling salesmen which enable them to obtain fairly correct re ports on the trade they have to visit in any place, no matter how remote from home.” Finger Bowl Unnecessary. “So you had a good time in the city. Hiram?” “Ob. bang up, Martha. Why, cousin took me out to dinner and it was great." “I hope you knew how to conduct yourself properly, Hiram!” “Oh, yes; but at the tail end of the dinner the waiter brought me a glass bowl full of water.” “Of course, Hiram!” “But, Martha. I had drunk so much by that time that I couldn’t drink a mouthful more!”—Yonkers States man. That One Was Enough. They had been married six long months and the honeymoon had evi dently disappeared for keeps. “I’ve only had one wish ungratifled since our wedding day,” she said. “And what is that?” he asked in a tone redolent with indifference. “That i were single again,” she re plied. The Soft Inpeachment Widow—Do yon know that ■] daughter has set eyes upon yon? j Gentleman (flattered)—Ha* An really?” Widow—Certainly; only to-day slM was saying “That's the sort <" tlemsn I should like xor my -- Woman’s Love O’, say not woman's love is bought With vain and empty treasure; O: say not a woman's heart is caught By every idle pleasure. When first her gentle bosom knows Love's flame, it wanders never; Deep in her heart the passion glows, She loves, and loves for ever: O: say not woman's false as fair; That like the bee she ranges; Still seeking flowers m*^re sweet and rare. As fickle fancy changes. Ah. no' the love that .first can warm Will leave her bosom never; No second passion e'er can charm; She loves, and loves for ever! JEWKA'Oar (Copyright, 1904, by Daily Story Pub.'Co.) it was mia-arternoon wnen Tom Jamieson finished the last cigar in his case. Two hours more to New York and nothing in sight to amuse him. ‘ He had devoured all the magazines on his trip out. Up to the present mo ment he had smoked his way back. There seemed nothing for it but two hours of ennui and that he decided he could better endure from his comfort able seat in the Pullman. He had not been in since noon, else he might earlier have discovered that there was something on the train which would help the hours to pass with amazing rapidity. He discovered it at once on entering his car. for there ; in the seat in front of his, which had 1 been vacant out of Chicago, sat quite ! the most charming girl he had seen ! since—well, since as acknowledged I leader of an exclusive coterie in | New York he had repressed all his j emotions under the imperturable ex terior which was his ideal of good form. Jamieson noticed with satisfac tion that every detail of the girl’s equipment was correct; that the elder ly person beside her was likewise irre proachable in appearance and manner. Their conversation was distinctly audi ble to him and he gathered at once from the flat a's and distinct r's that they were from the far west. That was Jamieson's first shock. That any girl bred outside of his own sphere should have such perfect poise and grace was incomprehensible. He pon dered the problem while the pair in j front busied themselves reading. At last a low laugh roused him. The elder woman looked up at the same time. Oh, it is delicious, auntie! Such a I situation, and the hero! What splen i did nerve! You must read it.” The girl forced the open magazine ; into the unwilling hands of her aunt who apparently preferred to finish her j own story. Jamieson, leaning forward j to raise the shade, glanced down at the book. “What was that story about, any | how?” he wondered. "I certainly read j it last week. Seems to me that hero with the splendid nerve faked ac quaintance with a girl he had never met and she permitted it, knowing the difference all the time. Bad form! Bad form!” He bought a copy to verify his sus picions, then eagerly awaited the aunt’s comments. At last she looked up with a doubtful smile. ‘It's very well told, my dear Jes sica,” she said, “but you know in real j life if such a thing ever occurred—I don’t suppose it could, of course, but i if it did happen by any chance, it would be ex^emely bad form.” Jessica laughed gleefully. “Of course it would be bad form, auntie; that’s just the point That’s why I admire him. He wanted to meet her so much he couldn't wait for con ventions and he simply took charge of events himself. I'd like to meet him—a man with just such stupend ous-** Jessica stopped to select her word. “She wouldn’t say brass or cheek, because they’re slang, and she speaks well,” meditated Jamieson, listening shamelessly. “She has used nerve once, so I’m betting that she will finish out with effrontery.” But Jessica did not finish her sen tence. Something in the scenery at tracted her attention and the story was stopped. In the days that followed Jamieson often had visions of a lovely, girlish face turned distractingly away from him and a daintily booted foot which had peeped from under a mass of laces when the owner had disappeared in the shadows of a cab. The initials J. D. seemed transferred from her suit case to his brain. That he should V Quite the most charming girl. meet her again he was perfectly cer tain. She evidently was somebody, fid Tom Jamieson sooner or later met all the celebrities and aristocrats of the social world. It never occurred to his well-bred, conventional salad to only too glad to know her. But he was not possessed of the “stupendous ef frontery” which brings circumstances about and molds them to its will. It was with a premonition of seeing her again that Jamieson went alone to the Delano ball, the opening event of the New York season. His carriage stopped just short of the steps to al low another to pull away. Jamieson, looking impatiently out of the window, saw a solitary girl emerge. She gave a direction to the coachman and turned to go in. A glimmer of light fell across her face and showed it to be Jessica. | “Good Lord! is the girl crazy?” i Jamieson groaned. “Western! Holy Smoke! But she ought to know she can’t go about in New York unaccom i panied.” He sprang out of his carriage be fore it stopped, and was beside Jessica j when she passed through the great ‘•Wasn't it effrontery?” doors. He followed closely up the broad stairs, bowed politely when she entered the dressing room, though she • was quite unaware of his presence, and when she emerged a few moments later he was there, waiting. He hard ly knew what he was going to do. Only one thing was clear in the riot of invective against those who had allowed her to commit this unpardon able blunder—he should not allow her to walk alone into the reception room with all New York agape. Curious eyes were staring when Jes sica, surpassingly lovely, glided up to her hostess with Tom Jamieson a step behind. "My dear Jessica!" said Mrs. Delano with real affection, "I am so glad you are here, and how sweet you look!” "Thank you so much. Do \on know, I almost missed coming, after all. Mrs. Osgood wras called away an hour ago by her sister’s illness, and as auntie went away yesterday there was no one to bring me. At first I was afraid 1 should have to give it up, and then, you know, we Western girls do a great many things that would shock you Easterners. Well, I thought it all over and decided that l couldn’t afford to miss the finest ball of the season. "So she let me bring her,” inter rupted Jamieson. "Richard, you remember A1 Pan ! forth? This is his daughter Jessica, i Miss Danforth, my husband.” Jessica hashed one glance at Jamie 1 son, then dutifully followed her host ess’ lead and passed on down the line. | She heard the quiet voice behind her saying the proper things to the mem bers of the receiving party. When she had reached the end she felt him gently draw her arm through his and lead her away. For a moment neither spoke. Then she looked at him cold ly. May I know to whom I have the | honor-" “I suppose my conduct seems unpar | donable to you. Miss Danforth. The I situation is so unusual—forgive me— ; but New York is so different from the ; West.” Jamieson stopped, not know ing how to proceed. “You mean I should not have come alone?” He nodded. “And you saw and—and—came to my rescue?” There was a light in her eyes that was anything but forbid ding. “How can I ever thank you? It would have spoiled my whole season if-” Jamieson smiled. “You see, I was on the train when you came. Do you remember the story you liked so much —the hero with the splendid nerve? r sat behind yon and I couldn’t help hearing. I think you said you would like to meet him in real life—the hero with the stupendous-. You never finished that sentence, do you remem Jessica laughed. “Yes, I remember. 1 couldn't find the word I wanted.” V •Wifih’t tt etfrehtsfy ?" Mked Jamie tho hero with the stupendous—cour age.” Their eyes met frankly m a glance of perfect understanding as the orches tra struck up the opening waltz. Ja mieson rose and bowed formally: “I believe this is our waltz, Miss Danforth,” he said, and Jessica, rising i also, placed her hand in his. FELT LACK OF HOSPITALITY, Unfeeling Cruelty and Suspicion To ward a Dog and Some Dust. Jack Mitten and his Newfoundland dog, Prince, of Skagway, Alaska, ap peared at the Sherman house one night, but decided not to stay. Two difficulties stared them in the face. The first was that the gold hunter had run out of cash and had only a bag of yellow dust to offer in return for lodg ing. The second difficulty was the clerk’s refusal to allow the dog to share the miner’s room. “I wouldn't part with the dog for a night,’’ said Mitten. “Either we sleep together or not at all. We’ve weather ed it up on the Skagway for three , winters—tented together and all that, and we ain't going to part company j here in God’s country. That dog, sir, once saved my Afe.” He offered the clerk an ounce of gold dust, but received only suspi cious looks. “This is Chicago.” said the clerk. “Only the coin of the realm goes here. ; Go down on Halsted street with your gold bricks.” Mitten, when he arrived, still wore I his fur boots and sealskin gloves. His face was weatherbeaten and his collar was turned up about his ears. With his dog he started out to find another hostelry. To a crowd of curious bystanders who surrounded him Mitten said that his companion was the prototype of Jack London’s dog in “The Call of the Wild.” “It’ll be a hard winter up in Skagway." he declared, “but I’m going to get out of this man’s land on the next train.”—Chicago Tribune. Odd Tales Revived. Senator Depew's Gordon Ear story i “off mv own tree,” was printed in the Worcester Press so long ago as 1878, to this effect: A hears passing by, a stranger having asked of the sexton “Who's dead?” and “What com- j plaint?” the sexton replied: “There is no complaint; everybody is satisfied.” j It was an old Worcester county j story, antedating by generations the story of the two men who went into a drug store and told the proprietor they had made a soda water bet and would have their sodas now. and when the bet was decided the loser j would drop in and pay for them, if that would be satisfactory to the drug i cist. He answered that it would, and after the sodas had been enjoyed he asked: “By the way, what was the bet?” “My friend here,” said one of the men, “bets that when Bunker Hill monument falls it will fall toward the north, and I bet it won't.”—New York Sum Spurned. They met - on another planet When the thing that men call death Had freed them of foolish vestments And given them deeper breath. There, at the gate of a garden. He saw her serenely stand; He eagerly rushed to kiss her. She merely held out a hand. "Ret. darling.” he said, “we promised Ere we parted there, you know. That our love should last forever— Dear heart, why treat me so? I swore that I would follow Wherever you should stray. And I have hastened, sweet one; I died but yesterday." She looked upon him coldly And then she made reply: "Hunt out some other darling. Good morning and good-by. You said that you would follow, But that was long ago — You didn't pine and dwindle And die for me—an, no!" —Chicago News. I Coal of No Benefit to Him. “Andy’’ Welch, one of the best known harness turfmen, and owner of Charter Oak park, in Hartford, and Oakley park, in Cincinnati, returned to Kentucky to visit his old friend Madden after the close of the harness-1 racing season at Memphis. Madden has the most beautiful estate in Ken tucky, and Welch always visits him at this season of the year. While Welch and his host were riding alsng they came across an old negro, bent with age and shaking with the early cold. “Which would you rather have, a quart of whisky or a ton of coal” asked Welch, seeking to jolly Uncle Jasper. “Missur Welch, de Lord knows as ah alius burns wood.” replied the j quaking darky.—New York Times. A Bad Pen. Senator Pettus of Alabama was writing with a noisy, spluttering pen. Laying the pen down, he smiled and said: “Once I was spending the evening with a friend of mine in Selma. We sat in the dining room, and from the kitchen came a dreadful scratching sound. “ ‘Martha.’ said my friend to the maid, ‘what is that scratching in the kitchen? It must be the dog trying to get in.’ “‘Huh,’ said Martha, ‘dat’s no dawg scratchin’ de do’. Dat’s de cook a-writin’ a love letter to her honey suckle.’ ” Refused to Talk. In a town in Pennsylvania last sum mer a meeting was held by several prominent gentlemen, the object being to use their combined influence to stop the deafening noise they usually had on the Fourth of July. Imagine their surprise when a reporter asked a doctor, one of their number and a very influential man, the following question: “You are in favor, are you not, of a sane and sensible observance of the Fourth of July? The public, I am sure, would be glad to hear your views “Young man,” interrupted the doc tor. “do you think that la a proper question to ask a surgeon?” Station for Lieut. Grant. Lieut. U. S. Grant III, grandson of the late President Grant, has been de tailed to the white bouse as military aid to President Roosevelt and will be stationed at^ Washington barracks* CONDITION OF THE AZTECH r Survivors of Ancient Race Chiefly La borers in the Fields. The Aztecs of old were net only ?re".t soldiers, but also diligent culti vators of the soil, and had acquired considerable proficiency m agriculture, says the Southern Workman, although they had no horses, oxen or other ani mals of draft. To this day the men earn their living chiefly as day labor ers in the fields now owned by the Mexicans. The staple product now as of yore is the maize, and next to it the maguey or agave, the sweet sap of which is the principal material for the famous Mexican pulque. Some species are cultivated as vegetables, others for the sake of their leaves, which yield a strong fiber that can be woven into fabrics. Hence the saying that the agave supplies the people with drink, food and clothing. The men have little ambition to ex cel in handicraft. Farriery and car pentry are about the only trades they care to take up. In the cities they work as porters, carriers or peddlers In a small way. Like all southern Indians, their complexion is of a ruddy chocoate brown, and they are not particularly good looking. Most of the women now have large hands and feet, prob ably the inheritance of generations of hard workers. And they are strong. In the warehouse of a wine merchant an Aztec porter was seen to take a cask of claret on his back and carry it quite a distance. The load certainly weighed not less than 400 pounds and no white man would have thought of lifting it. The law requires the people in the cities to forsake the Indian breech cloth and poncho and assume the reg ulation garb of the poor working class of Mexico—the wide, loose trousers of cotton cloth or manta, with jacket tc match—but the breechcloth is worn outside of the trousers and thereby re places the civilized suspenders. ICY WATER AND HEALTH. Benefits to Be Derived from Colt Baths and Vigorous Rubbing. “A cold bath—we might as well get at the straight of the thing—is not really a matter of cleanliness so much as a matter of getting the skin liven ed up and the capillaries and vein? next to the surface full of blood. Ice cold water or scalding hot water will do that, but tepid water—no, no. “The skin is almost exactly the same kind of an excreting organ a? the lungs. The same products seep through the pores as are carried off in the breath, and the air purifies the blood in the same way. But the great er part of the skin is smothered up in clothes day and night. What the cold water of the bath dissolves is matter well away. And the rubbing dry pretty vigorous exercise, if you want to know. Any rubbing is bound to push the blood along toward the heart and help the circulation, because there are valves in the veins which prevent the blood from going in any other direction than toward the heart. Whatever loose flakes of outer cuticle are rubbed off we needn't worry about; plenty more where they came from. The extra food the increased appetite demands will make good that trifling loss.”—Everybody's Magazine. Cook's Feelings. Mrs. Mellem is one of those inoffen sive persons who are continuallj dreading that they may. by some mis chance, hurt the feelings of others. Added to this, she has had consider' able trouble in getting a suitable cook, and does not wish to offend her. “John,” she said to the man servant on the morning following the party, "do you happen to know whether— that is—I mean, can you find out with out asking the cook, whether the tin ned salmon was all eaten last night! You see, I don't wish to ask her be cause she may have eaten it, and then she would feel uncomfortable,” added the good soul. ‘ If you please, ma’am.” replied the man, "the new cook has eaten the tinned salmon, and if you was to say anything to her you couldn’t make her more uncomfortable than she is.” —London Tit-Bits. It Took the Cake. ‘‘One day when the Chicago and Cleveland teams were playing I watched the battle from my own pri vate knothole in the fence,” says Jimmy Welsh. ‘ McCormick was pitching in splen did form for Cleveland. The cheers that went up when he struck out Billy Sunday were still ringing in my ears when Mike Kelly hit the ball far over the right field fence for a home run. “Just at that moment a domestic carrying a big chocolate cake had come out on the steps of a bouse be hind me. The ball hit the cake and scattered it into a thousand pieces. ** ‘Who did that?” yelled the girl, looking up at me. for she hadn't seen the ball and didn't know how it all happened. ‘“Mike Kelly,’ I shouted, with my eye glued to the knothole. “ 'Well, well,’ she said, good natured Iy, ‘that takes the cake.’ ” The Doctor’s Twins. A worthy Glasgow doctor, while en joying a holiday fn Arran, took the op portunity along with a friend to go whiting fishing. During operations the doctor's sinker came off and was lost. Here was a dilemma—no sinker, no more fishing that day. Ha! happy thought, his flask; no sooner said than done. The bottle was filled with salt water, carefully corked, and sent down on its mission. After a few minutes’ interval, “Ha!"* quoth the doctor, “a bite,” and up he pulls at racing speed a fine pair of whiting, one on each hook. “Ha! doctor, twins this time,” ex claimed his companion. “Yes,” quoth the doctor, “and brought up on the bottle, too.”—Lon don Answers. Studies Malarial Fever. Prof. Ronald Ross of the University of Liverpool will, after his return from Panama, deliver a series of lectures in the medical department of the Uni versity of Pennsylvania on “Causes and Cure of Malarial Fever.”.