BY CARY PEVEREVX
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY DON C. WILSON
CCkpyrigtt, &oa, fy /AT*. Sramr. Con^gtnyJ
(At p/g/kj ficxrmft
CHAPTER XXVI. ;
Night in New Orleans, where the j
former gay life of the streets had for
many weeks been hushed by the
^ threatened calamity of an attack, or
possible siege.
The air of the city, muggy and life
less as the thunder showers of the
clay tad left it, was still more un
bearable inside the walls of the gaol,
where, on the upper floor, in a cell
whose one narrow, iron-barred win
dow faced the east, lay Pierre Lafitte.
The gaoler's wife came in with a
jug of water, and filling a cup, held
it to the stricken man's lips while
gently raising his head.
“M'sieur Pierre, I trust you will not
be angry with me that I sent this
afternoon to Father Philipe. and ask
ed that a priest be sent here for your
comforting.”
"Is it Father Philipe of the Coeur
de St. Jean?” he asked.
“Surely, m’sieur: and a saint him
self,” she answered quickly.
“Very well, then madame; you may
send the priest to me,” said Pierre,'
wearily, and wondering if by any
chance he might here find a cnannel
through which to communicate with
Jean: for he had recalled the name
as that of one of the latter's friends.
'The woman soon returned, bringing
a lighted lamp, which she placed upon
the floor, near the foot of the bed,
and, Pierre, closing his eyes to shut
awa> the glare, did not see the tall,
black-robed form that entered with
her, and then motioned her to leave
the room.
As she did so, the priest walked to
the window and stood looking out, his
back turned to the bed. until the last
echo of the woman’s footsteps died
away. Then striding hastily to the
door, he closed it softly, and. throw
ing back his cowl, revealed the pale
face of Jean Lafitte.
"Pierre, my brother.” he said, tak
ing care to lower his passionate voice
to almost a whisper, as he dropped
upon his knees beside the b?d. “My
poor Pierre, tell me who has brought
this upon thee.”
Pierre smiled, as his hot fingers
clasped the cool ones that seemed
throbbing with passion and revenge.
"Nay.” he murmured; and his voice,
although weak, held yet a note of old
time humor. "Nay, Jean, that would
be a puzzle whose answer is beyond
me. The bullets that found me were
meant for any one of us, and the
knife-thrust in my side was given by
a man I never saw before. And,” he
added grimly, after a moment’s pause.
if to gather strength; and when he
spoke again his tone was more in
cisive.
“Jean, I can see it all as it will be,
if thou wilt do as I say. Go to the
governor in person, or. better still,
go to Jackson when he shall come.
Renew the offer, and show the origi
nal papers sent to thee by the Eng
lish. I heard that Claiborne would
have accepted thy proposition, but
was over-ruled by the others. I beg,
as the last thing I can ask of thee on
earth, to show the papers to Jackson.
Promise me to do this, and all will
be well with thee and thine.”
Another'brief silence, and then Jean
answered with a passion he tried vain
ly to repress. “I would not, to save
my life, give this promise to another.
But, my Pierre, as thou hast asked it
from me—yes.”
The moon's rays had stolen up until
the shadows of the window-bars lay
across the clasped hands, and strug
gled faintly along the whitewashed
wall, untouched by the light from the
dimly burning lamp.
“Then can I go in peace.” had come
like a sigh from the paling lips, as
Jean's head was laid against Pierre's
shoulder.
“Put out the lamp.” added the dying
man. “let us have only the moon
light.”
This done, Jean resumed his place
by the bed, and again took the hand
lying so white in the moon rays.
A deep, struggling sigh stirred the
silence.
“What is it, my Pierre—art thou in
pain?”
There was no reply.
“Pierre, my brother, tell me—art
thou in pain?” Jean repeated, con
scious that the hand he held lay
heavy, and was growing cooler.
He laid it tenderly on the coverlet,
and. rising, pulled the bed out, so that
it was bathed in a flood of moonlight.
The whitening radiance touched the
half parted lips and wide-open eyes
of a face whose cold pallor would
show even whiter in the morning's
sun.
Truly had Pierre’s premonition
been verified: never would those
sightless eyes behold the France he
had longed to see once more.
* * * •
The morning of September 14 was
clear and cloudless, with the brisk
wind distending the canvas of H. B.
M. brig “Sophia.” as she made her
way toward .the little island off the
East Pass known as “The Turtle.”
Truly had Pierre's premonition been verified.
“no other on earth will ever receive
a thrust from him.”
“Then thou didst not leave him for
me to deal with?”
“No; for I left the blade of my knife
in his heart. But ah, my Jean, what
treacherous work it was—what a base
return for thy frankness and generos
ity!”
Jean tossed his head impatiently.
“Let us not waste time in talking
of that. There is now but one thing
to consider, my brother, and that is
the getting of thee from this place.
It is for that I have come, and as
soon as 1 knew thou wert hurt. Father
Philipe has every reason to help me;
so 1 went to him. feeling that a priest
would not be denied thee. Fortune
helped me still more, when a messen
ger came from the gaoler’s wife to
Father Philipe, saying that his minis
trations were needed by thee. His
conscience troubled him. but he let
me have my way for to-night, and
will himself come to see thee in the
morning.”
“Did the woman send him word
that Pierre Lafitte was dying.” asked
the wounded man.
Jean started to his feet.
“Say not such a thing, my Pierre.
If she did. it was but the silly thought
of a woman; and I cannot, with pa
tience, hear thee repeat it.”
He seemed cheered by his own
words and his voice had its usual ring
of confidence and decision.
“I will soor have thee out of this.”
he resumed, as he stood beside the
bed. “and down to Shell Island, where
every comfort shall be thine. But,
first of all, let me take a look at thy
apartment and Its surroundings.”
He glanced about the cell, taking in
every detail of its shape and con
£ struction; then, going to the window,
' he was looking out, when Pierre said,
in a voice so solemn as to sound ut
terly unlike his own. “Come back,
Jean: come and sit on the bed, beside
me, as thou didst when we were boys
together in Languedoc. I am dying,
ard thank God that I can die with
thee near me. Having this. I ask for
nothing more. The surgeon told me
that if the blx>d came again from
my side I must reckon my life by min
utes. and the Mood is coming now,
my brother. Nay, never mind,”—as
Joan started impulsively—“for thou
ranst do nothing. Let me talk to *
thee; that is all.”
He stopped for a few moments, as j
There had been little doubt among
the English as to Lafitte's decision,
and their opinion had been strengthen
ed to a certainty by reason of the
recent attack upon Barataria, the de
tails of which had been reported to
Capt. Percy.
It was therefore with a very com
placent mind that Capt. Lockyer look
ed ahead on the little island lying on
the heaving water, with the noonday
heat shimmering in a dazzle of pris
matic coloring over its green growths.
He was soon ashore, and glanced
around expectantly, but no one was to
be seen. His eyes were attracted by
a large piece of white paper, out
spread upon the impaling thorns of a
bush only a few yards off. He went
toward it. and soon read what wrought
a decided change in his expression of
complacency, besides bringing an
oath from his lips.
Then, plucking the paper from the
bush, he crushed it in his hand, and
turning about, went back to his boat,
where, with a look of disappointment
and rage that told his crew of some
thing having gone wrong, he ordered
them to push off.
The paper he was carrying back to
the “Sophia” as the result of his
mission contained only these words:
“Sept. 14. 1814.
“I will accept no favor from, and
conclude no terms with those who
make allies of Indians, who incite
slaves to insurrection, and whose own
cruelty matches well that of their sav
age associates.
“JEAN LAFITTE."
Prison doors were not so easily
opened as in the past. Belucne and
Lopez were still under confinement,
together with their crew, and the re
cently captured Baratarlans.
The days at Shell Island passed
monotonously. Once, in October, La
fitte made a trip to La Tete des Eaux,
where he found only Lazalie and Mad
ame Riefet, Gen. I,a Roche’s sister,
who had, for the present, closed her
New Orleans house, and was stopping
in what her brother considered a
safer locality.
The general himself spent much of
his time in the city, and Mademoi
selle de Cazeneau was now at Kanau
hana, where her grandfather was
ying.
After hearing from Lazalie of Rose, j
and her loneliness, picturing her be-1
side her grandfather’s deathbed, and
recalling the look upon her upraised
face when he left her, and the words
she had uttered, Lafitte longed to see
her. if only to extend his sympathy.
That she would have heard of his
disaster there was little doubt; for
Lazalie had met him with both hands
extended and a dimness of tears in
her eyes as she said, “Captain Jean,
I am so glad to see you again, and
that you were not forced to accept
the governor's hospitality. And we
were all so sorry for your brother's—*
She hesitated, and Lafitte said
quietly, but with unmistakable firm
ness, “I thank you truly. Lazalie; I
understand what you would say, and
thank you for it. But please let us
talk of something else.”
Mindful of Rose’s love for marsh
lilies, he had brought a large bunch of
them from Shell Island, where they
grew in great luxuriance and beauty,
and now handing them to Lazalie, he
requested that she give them to Made
moiselle de Cazeneau, with his com
pliments.
“Then you will not go over to Ka
nauhana to-day?” she asked, while in
haling the fragrance of the flowers.
Before he could reply. Madame Rie
fet, who had entered the room and
overheard Lazalie's question, exclaim
ed volubly, "Is it not pitiful to think
of that poor child over there, with
only the negroes about her and that
snappy old Barbe! Mercy! When I
was her age the very idea of seeing
any one die would make me fly from
the house.”
She spoke theatrically, with uplifted
brows and raised hands; for the er
ratic, fashionable Madame was, in per
son and manner, more decidedly
French than was her brother.
Madame Riefet's frivolous remark
brought before Jean the picture of
that little island where he had first
seen the figure, scarcely more than a
child's, clad in a gayly fringed buck
skin dress, with beaded leggings and
moccasins, and clinging to a still form
from which the breath had but just
departed.
‘ Speak once more to your little
Rose!” she had wailed. And he, hard
ened by frequent contact with death,
could not. until now. realize the full
depth of such sorrow.
He realized it now, when he had
that moonlit cell to remember; the
dead face lying in the silver radiance;
the unseeing eyes; the parted lips,
forever mute, but which, a moment
before, were murmuring words that,
in all the years agone, were for him
and his welfare.
This it was that made Jean la
fitte's face look pale and his manner
seem stern, as, after forcing himself
to listen for awhile to Madame Rie
fet's volatile chatter, he took his de
parture.
(To be continued.)
CZAR FLED FROM THE WORLD.
Father of Present Monarch Lost
Nerve After Disaster.
When the Czar Alexander II was
assassinated, Alexander III retired to
Tzarskoe Selo, and shutting himself
up with an enormous guard of chosen
soldiers lived a voluntary prisoner,
impervious to the movements of the
outside world. Sergius himself was
unshaken. He determined to seek
out and rally his brother to the great
charge of governing Russia to the
glory of the Romanoff family. In a
very simple, but very dramatic, fash
ion Sergius afterward told the story
of his astonishment when he reached
the precincts of the palace to find
tnem invested by a living wall of
silent Cossacks armed to the teeth.
Inside was hardly a sign of life. Alex
ander was not in the palace. He was
said to be somewhere in the great
park, part of which contained a forest
of primeval trees. Here only were
heard cheerful sounds of human ac
tivity, for wood-cutters were at work;
and after trying in all directions Ser
gius at last made overtures to them
to inquire if they had observed the
Czar passing. Judge of his own sur
prise when he found the wood-cutters
to be Alexander himself and his son,
the present Czar. They were in their
shirt sleeves, the boy aiding in stack
ing the wood that had been cut. and
in this way Alexander had been seek
ing forgetfulness of the world and
surcease of the sorrow of having beeD
born a Russian Czar.
Engineers Find Bearings in Fog.
“When I was a guard,” said Mr.
Richard Bell, M. P., yesterday, "I
could sit in my van with my eyes shut
and tell where the train was at any
moment. Working one section contin
uously one gets to learn the rythmic
song of the road and how it varies at
each signal box, station, curve, gra
dient. tunnel and bridge.
“The sixth sense, which is more
than mere hearing, is of the utmost
value to a driver during fog. Denied
the use of his eyes, he still does not
iose his way’ when he is on a familiar
road.
“A driver cannot learn a new road
when he is stoking, which should oc
cupy all his time. He should always
be allow’ed to travel as third man on
the footplate, unfettered by work, and
in two or three days, by keeping his
eyes and ears open, he would learn
the road."—London Daily Mall.
A False Alarm.
The zeal with which the souvea.i
postal fiends pursue their friends In
their endeavors to add to their collec
tions may sometimes prove embar
rassing. He was telling her of his va
cation plans, which, it seems, hovered
between a trip to Europe or a visit to
Jamaica.
“Either place will suit me.” she
commented. He looked startled, gazed
wildly at the door, and wondered how
he could make his escape.
“Yes,” she went on. reflectively, “I
need some cards from the West In
dies, and then there is that new set
just issued in England—the Ledhuy
series—which I positively must have.”
President Eliot and the Small Boy
President Eliot of Harvard college
always enjoys the quick retorts of
small boys in the street. On one oc
casion a little urchin looked up cur
iously at him, and President Eliot
said: “Hello, boy, what time is it by
your nose?”
“Dunno.” came the retort. “Min*
ain’t runnin’; is yours?”
WHAT SMART WOMEN ARE WEARING
Parisian Idea in Corsets.
The Parisians, always evolving
some new thing in corsets, are wear
ing stays made of what is called “tri
cot.” a corset, apparently, formed of
knitted silk.
The latest tricot corsets are cut
very long, indeed, well away to the
knee, a circumstance which must puz
zle those who are not aware that the
corset is not boned in its extremities.
It is a knitted silk substance, yet does
not stretch, so that it holds a super
abundant figure in with exceeding
comfort and firmness, while lending
itself quite to the movements of the
figure.
This tricot corset, which has been
offering itself, though not in such
notable form, for some time, promises
rather wrell for comfort, while its ex
cellence is guaranteed by the fact
that the Parisienne has adopted it.
German Pudding.
Beat 3 eggs slightly, add tablespoon
of sugar. % teaspoon of salt, 1 cup of
milk; cut stale bread in slices 1 inch
thick, soak in this mixture, and cook
in hot buttered spider until brown on
both sides. Serve with apricot sauce.
Apricot sauce—Drain canned apri
cots from their sirup and rub through
a sieve to 1 cup of pulp and 1 cup of
heavy cream beaten until stiff; sweet
en to taste. Peaches can be used the
same way, either canned or fresh.
Apple Puffs.
Sift together 2 cups of flour. 3 level
teaspoons of baking powder and half
a teaspoon of salt; stir into a soft
batter with a scant cup of milk, 1 egg
well beaten and a tablespoon of but
ter melted; put the batter in 8 but
tered muffin pans and stick into the
top of each nieces of apple; sprinkle
with suga*- •masoned with spice and
bake. Eat with butter on it; makes
a good dessert by making a pudding
sauce.
Spring Tailor-IV.ade Walking-Costume.
In black-and-wmte check, with tur
ban toque. The skirt is trimmed with
lines of black braid between the box
pleats. The tight-fitting bodice has
revers and cuffs of white edged with
black, and velvet-covered buttons.
Sheer Face Veils.
The newest of the face veils are so
sheer that it will be necessary to pur
chase a more liberal allowance of
them than heretofore. There is noth
ing which will give such an air of
genteel poverty to even the most suc
cessful costume as a veil which has
lost its freshness. The various pe
riodicals ostentationsly devoted to a
woman's interests from time to time
give directions how to freshen an old
veil, but the result of following such
instructions is pretty nearly always
loss of time, loss of the veil (such as
it was), and only too often loss of
temper as well. The old veil Is sel
dom if ever worth the effort of refur
bishing.
Many women who do not care for
the so-called “fussiness” which the
proper care of veils requires, salve
their conscience by purchasing a large
number of veils for the same sum
that formerly went to their purchase.
Thus, instead of two veils at $1
apiece, they will purchase four at 50
cents, and it is a question whether a
correct and fresh appearance in the
matter of her veils is not main
tained for a longer period by this
little excursion into the land of econ
omics.
Heating Food Without Fire.
At various recent food exhibitions
there has been on show an invention
for heating food without fire and with
out the usual troublesome accessories
of pots and pans. An innocent look
ing tomato soup tin has four holes
punched at one end, and immediately
that is done the whole thing begins to
fizz and boil. It is left for five min
utes, until the heating materials evap
orate, turned upside down, and left for
another five minutes, then it is opened
in the ordinary way, when thoroughly
cooked soup can be poured out. Its
name is calorit, and the food, which
is prepared by some well known firms,
is of the first quality. About a dozen
varieties of soup can be had, and the
same number of entrees besides cof
fee, cocoa and chocolate.
Tied Girdle Is Quite Frenchy.
It is quite possible to have a dif
ferent girdle for every gown, and to
have them look natty and nice with
no trouble at all, by adopting the fol
lowing plan:
Take two yards and a half of rib
bon more or less, according to the
waist measure. After skirt and waist
are properly adjusted place the center
of the ribbon at the center of the
waist front. Run the ribbon around
the waist, cross at the back and bring
the ends in front again. Cross them
! in the middle and pin securely with
! a safety pin. through the bodice and
I corset, and tie the remaining ends in
a smart little bow exactly over the
| pin. If the sides of the girdle show
j an inclination to slip down they can
be fastened up with a pin. which is
put in “blindly,” that is, just under
the edge of the ribbon; this edge is
turned over and covers the fastening.
The same applies to the poiat in front.
When properly put on and fastened,
this girdle bears all the earmarks of
the latest thing in French belts, even
to the jaunty bow in front, and no one
would guess that it owed its style to
| one large safety pin and a piece of rib
bon.
i -
[boudoir
I
Numbers of hats are made of trans
parent Neapolitan in black, white and
colors.
"Alice” blue, a bright blue over
gold, takes its name from the presi
dent’s daughter.
Polka dots, little woven rings and
triangles of color, appear on the
choicest white fabrics.
A waistcoat belt that is half girdle
and half waistcoat has little thumb
pockets slit in the front.
Clever girls are braiding their own
linen frocks with narrow linen sou
tache over a stamped pattern.
Even the long, tight coats are cut
very low in tront, to show' as much of
the frilly blouse as possible.
A front panel covered with French
knots in self color is a feature of one
or two pretty linen gowns.
Bunches of gold and silver and
green grapes are tucked in the twists
of hats bent close to the hair.
Catchy Silk Stocks.
Keep up your taste for fetching
cellars. One I saw is made of shaded
taffeta—the biuish green, the pinkish
brown and the brownish yellow,
whereof so many taffeta shirt waist
suits are made. There's the high
stock and then in front a little knot
and from this two ends, which are
just like an ordinary four-in-hand,
only that the lower half of each end
consists of a piece of accordion-plait
ed silk which spreads out in a flirta
tious little tan. Quite catchy, too.
are those with bows for a finish, be
cause the ends of the bows are also
accordian-plaited.
With a little piece of accordion
plaited silk it is apparently possible
to make a natty neck finish for any
frock.—Exchange.
Silver to Be Much Worn.
Silver appears in all the most fash
ionable dresses and millinery, and
there is no denying how immeasur
ably superior it is in effect and in
good taste to the gold trimmings
which were so lavishly used last year,
and which always were inclined to
suggest vulgar ostentation. Besides,
the hue of silver blends with a num
ber of colors which cannot be com
bined successfully with gold. Green
and gold is suggestive of Mr. Tracy
Tupman as a brigand with the “two
inch tail.” which so greatly excited
Mr. Pickwick’s ire; green and silver
gives a vision of Undine. Blue and
silver, violet and silver, rose and sil
ver, black and silver are all delightful
combinations, whereas the introduc
tion of gold in the place of the white
metal would at once result in garish
ness.
Black Cloth Frock.
A black cloth frock is a standby
which most women like to have in
their wardrobes. A pretty specimen
of the tailor-made order had an all
round skirt braided with about sev^n
rows of flat black braid, and a braided
corselet band. The back was ar
ranged in a few tiny flat plaits. This
skirt could be worn with any kind ef
blouse, and was accompanied by the
tiniest braided bolero. This made an
extremely neat spring costume.
r
Tin vessels of all kinds may be kept
from rusting by placing them near
the fire, after they have been washed
and wiped dry.
One of the new wall coverings that
are printed in soft tones and dainty
patterns, yet can be sponged off with
water, is best for a nursery.
If a lamp gets overturned water
will be of no use in extinguishing the
flames. Earth, sand or flour thrown
on it w'ill have the desired effect.
Match marks on a polished or tar
nished surface may be removed by
first rubbing them with a cut lemon
and then with a cloth dipped in water.
It is a good plan to wash the silver
daily after use with a chamois leath
er saturated in warm, soapy water.
In this way it is possible to keep the
silver bright without the use of plate
powder.
Utility in Silk Slips.
Slips of colored silk are worn un
der sheer gowns, and a fashionable
woman stocks her wardrobe with no
less than half a dozen of these prin
cess underdresses in various colors.
White is a staple color for a slip:
pale blue and pink are much more ef
fective. and they enhance the beau
tiful hand work on the gown. The
pink is equally dainty and effective,
and when this color is more becoming
to a woman than blue it is wise foi
her to choose it, though the latter is
more of a summer shade than these
bordering on the rose.
Trimming for Lingerie.
Fashionable women are taking
plain white corsets and trimming
them with lace around the top, put
ting on the lace in little drapings
across the front. It is caught up with
ribbons. Inside there are set many
little ruffles of silk to produce a full
ness across the bust.
A trousseau set consisted of ten
pieces. There were the usual pieces
of underwear to put next the skin.
These were made of nainsook and
trimmed with pale blue dyed lace,
with satin ribbons, very narrow' and
tied in many rosettes. A white cor
set was trimmed with pale blue lace,
and there was a night robe trimmed
in the same way. with two petticoats
to match. With this set there went
a little kimono jacket, cut off just be
low the waist line and elaborately
trimmed with novelty plaid taffeta,
laid on in flat bands.
Smart Walking-Gown.
This is built in a light cloth, and
trimmed with rows of braid and fancy
buttons. The collar and vest are of
white, embroidered in color to match.
Hat of white straw trimmed with
lilac.
Baked Indian Pudding.
Sift slowly three tablespoonfuls of
yellow meal into one pint of boiling
milk, stirring all the time to keep
from being lumpy.
Let boil gently five minutes. Be
careful not to burn; then add one pint
of cold milk, one-half teaspoonful of
salt, two tablespoonfuls of sugar, one
teaspoonful of ginger (or, if liked,
one-half grated nutmeg), and two eggs
beaten.
Stir all well together.
Pour in a buttered baking dish, and
bake in a slow oven for one hour.
__ x
Now It's the Redingote.
The redingote suit is shown in all
materials. Blue is not the most fash
ionable color this spring, but a blue
chiffon taffeta gown made with a red
ingote skirt was very modish. Both
skirt and redingote were side plaited
and were finished at the hems with a
fancy braid, in which white, green and
a little bright red appeared. The red
ingote opened in the front and the
braid was carried up on either side.
A very wide crush girdle of the taf
feta and a smart little bolero formed
the waist of the gown.
New Wrinkle in Batiste.
Batiste with broderie anglaise de
signs are charming for blouses. This
very thin cotton cannot be as durable
as linen—or as linen ought to be—
but it is so pretty that it attracts. Dot
ten swiss, dimity and Persian lawn
are other thin fabrics used for dainty
blouses. They are being worn under
jackets at the present time, of course,
with the addition of under-slips of
lawn or China silk.
BEAUTIFUL BELT NOVELTIES FROM PARIS.
—■—■III.. ,tj
WHAT MODERN SURGEONS DOJ
Make It Possible for Man to Live With
a Hole in His Heart.
Members of ihe medical profession
have had their attention drawn to the
peculiar case of a marine engineer,
says the New York Herald's Paris
edition, who lived one montn with a
fissure in the walls of the heart.
At the inquest at Penge it was stat
ed that he fell off an omnibus with his*
full weight on to his arms. He re
ceived internal injuries, and the j>ost
mortem examination showed that a
slit in the heart, probably due to the
accident, had been gradually extended
by the heart’s action.
The wonderful skill of modern sur
geons has proved that it is possible for
a man to live with a hole in his heart.
Some time ago, it will be remembered,
a remarkable operation was performed
upon a male patient in the London
hospital, who had been stabbed to the
heart in a street brawl. The case was
taken in hand the moment the patient
entered the hospital, and a metal plate
was placed over the heart after it had
been sewn up. The man recovered,
and is now alive and well, with the
metal plate still over his heart. He
w as recently arrested for burglary and
is serving a term of imprisonment.
The success of this case was attended
to almost immediately after the wound
was inflicted.
Modern surgeons have learned their
share o£ the lessons of the South Af
rican war. Patients were received in
the hospitals with the most extraordi
nary wounds. A soldier entered one
of the London hospitals with a wound
on his upper lip and another at the
bottom of the left shoulder. He said
a bullet had entered his mouth when
he was lying down and had passed
clean through his body, injuring some
of the arteries near the heart. The
only after-effect he suffers from is a
pain in the left arm.
SANG IN OPEN STREETS.
Vienna Stage Celebrities Test Pub
lic's Judgment of Music.
A merry quartette of performers
made an interesting experiment in the
streets of Vienna, says the New Or
leans Times-Democrat, in order to
see with their own eyes how the gen
eral public would appreciate the high
est artistic talent if it were exhibited
in the open street, unannounced and
unadorned.
Miss Gerda Walde. prima donna of
the Vienna stage; Louis Treumann.
the popular comedian of the Carl the
ater; Edward Eysler, the composer,
and Alfred Deutsch-German, the play
wright, arrayed in the garb of ordinary
street musicians, made a tour through
the principal streets of the city. The
composer, Eysler. performed the du
ties of organ-grinder, while the others
sung a repertoire which included
such well-known songs as ''Geh, Mach
Dein Fenster Auf” (Go, Open Your
Window”), “Kussen 1st Keine Sund”
(“Kissing Is No Sin”) and “Jetzt
Spielt's Uns an Tanz” (Now They Play
and Dance for Us”).
The incognito of the celebrated band
remained undiscovered and the day's
“takings” aggregated a paltry 68
kreutzers (about 1 shilling 2 pence),
which they laughingly divided among
themselves. Their previous doubts as
to the ability of the public to judge
of the value of art unassisted by the
atrical effect have now given way to
settled conviction. But, nevertheless,
it would have been interesting to find
out what the day's takings would have
amounted to had the quartette openly
announced themselves as the leading
lights of the Austrian musical world.
Doubtless the man in the street, even
in Vienna, does not look for talent
in the streets.
Profit in Making Rag Dolls.
Two women, one having business
ability, and the other artistic talent,
started out some little time ago to
earn their living. They chose the
manufacture of rag dolls. They took
a room on a business street, and be
gan to supply the dolls by the whole
sale. to firms who would jell them
at retail.
The artistic woman painted the
faces, and the companion did the more
practical part of forming the bodies
and making the costumes of the dolls.
The business grew. The price of the
dolls rose in proportion to the elabo
rate makeup of the doll, til! some cf
them brought $8 to $10.
The young women no longer could
do all the work themselves. They be
gan to give out the little garments,
caps and socks to be made by the
dozen. This business has progressed
until now two floors in a building on a
public street are utilized. Quite a
staff of helpers is employed. The suc
cess of the firm has come from the
practical way in which the members
went to work, their reliability and the
excellence of the article supplied.
How Salmon Are Hatched.
The Oregon State fisheries exhibit,
which will be located in the north end
of the forestry building at the Lewis
and Clark exposition. Portland. Ore.,
wiB be one of fascinating interest to
Eastern people visiting the fair. The
exhibit will show the methods used in
hatching salmon, the chief fishing re
source of Oregon, and there will be
many specimens of the “lordly chi
nook,” the king of fresh water fishes.
Seme of the largest fish of the spring
catch, weighing eighty-five or ninety
pounds, and measuring five and one
half to six feet long, will be preserved
in formaldehyde in inverted glass jars
made especially for the purpose. The
exhibit will be the finest of its kind
ever displayed at an exposition.—Rec
reation.
An Irresistible Conclusion.
He was a critic, so he said;
He wrote his way to fame.
If nonsense chanced to till his head,
He wrote it just the same.
His essays were made up of queer
Opinonated kinks.
And people trembled at the sneer
Of Jingle Burnem Jinks.
He showed where Shakespeare sometimes
failed.
Although his w-ork was fair.
At Swift he arrogantly railed;
He patronised Voltaire.
The life work of the world's great men
He'd crush in forty winks.
And very few escaped the pen
Of Jingle Burnem Jinks.
But those who followed him at length
Grew very sad indeed.
They cried. “Pray show us. in your
strength
What is there left to read!
Upon what author may we lean
As one who really thinks?”
He answered with an air serene,
"Why. Jingle Burnem Jinks.”
•-Washington Star.