The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917, August 17, 1905, Image 3
*' 3 ' o 9 ... Br CHARLES MORRIS BUTLER. fTufAor of "7Ze /?erfvj0v of f)t*nre~yf 7e/*e/nefr/ 7hap*ffc. Copyright, 1905, by Charles Morris Butler. CHAPTER XV. Lang Rescues a “Hunted Man.” TLe emigrants crossed the borders Into the “Convict Country” early in the morning. At about noon they came upon what at first sight looked like an old-time palisaded farm house and barn, surrounded by a high fence of logs driven into the ground. The house was formed of logs, two stories high, and fitted with shutters of un hewn oa.:. which could be drawn over the windows when necessary. The whole building was protected from view by a magnificent growth of large trees and an artificial curtain of vines growing on frames which trained them to run from limb to limb of the trees. Golden told Lang that this was one of many outposts which formed the defense of the city in the interior. It was defended by three male and three female residents and six import ed Siberian bloodhounds—a formid able company. The party was ex pected, because the gates were open, and in the main room of the block house were set out a homely but sub stantial meal ready to be eaten, and In the center of the table was a huge jug of whisky surrounded by numer ous goblets and cups for drinking pur poses. “Have somet’n’,” was the greeting of an old man who stood in the door way, and with the invitation the party after tending to the wants of the ani mals, took themselves into the nouse. After partaking of several rounds of liquid refreshments and a meal of solid food, before the train moved on again. Lang. Golden and Johnson, the proprietor of the post, withdrew to a secluded spot not far from the ^ouse, for a little private conversation. As a starter Golden said, by way of preliminary to what he really wanted to say: “Johnson, I haven’t seen you for an age. nor Paradise, either; what’s going on in the city?” All right, old man, we understand one another then.” The schooners being ready, tne word was now given to moA ~ women were exchanged knowing ones for two who were q^uite ignorant. Paradise, the city of the convicts was now but one day’s journey away. By hard driving the city would be reached by right. For a long time they had been trav eling through a dense thicket, in single file, Bronco George and Bowie Bill leading the May. The schooners strung out behind with Golden, Lang Limpy Jim and Pete bringing up the rear. The distant baying of hounds broke upon the stillness of the forest. Lang peering through the thicket to one • side, saw a man runEing through the bush. His clothes M’ere torn from con tact M-ith the underbrush; he was eoatless and hatless. “Some poor devil trying to escape, said Louis to Golden, readily compre hending the meaning. “He M'ill be torn to pieces!” It took the impulsive Louis but a moment to turn his bronco around and M-ith a savage dig into the ribs of the animal, dashed after the fleeing man. There Mas a sharp race for a moment, and then Louis got close enough to cry, “Halt! you will be torn to pieces by the hounds! Halt, and I will save you!” But the man did rot pause in his mad race; M'here he was going, or how he expected tc escape was a conundrum to ixmis: but he followed closely behind him. The baying of the dogs became louder. They Mere rapidly gaining on the fugitive. “Halt!” again called Louis, as he dreM- his revolver from his belt. “You foolish man, don’t you hear the dogs? Turn M-ith me and come back to the train. I will save you!” The man halted. He could scarce do anything else; he Mas exhausted and ready to drop in his tracks. The man-killing Deasts had now completely encircled our imprisoned friends. “Nothing!” was the non-committal , reply oi the backwoodsman. He ap peared not to desire to speak before Lang. Golden interpreted Johnson’s feel ings aright, “Johnson, this is Louis I^ang,” Golden said, by way of ex planation. “He killed a man in New York, he also robbed the Madison bank of ten thousand dollars belong ing to Jim Denver, the detective. He is a friend of mine, and has shown himself a man by killing an Indian 2hief in a hand to hamPfight, and sav <ed me from the assassin’s knife dur ing the journey out. You can trust him, you know what that means: - Johnson gazed at Lang with differ ent eyes than before and shook mn by the hand most heartily. “I .am glad to know you.” he said, quite iree Jy. “Well, then. King Schiller passed through here yesterday with two cap tives. iou remember Schiller’s oath, don’t you; how he swore to be even with the man who had nim sent up? Well, he has him and his daughter ,n limbo now—a Dr. Huntington name, and to my mind a very renned man. As to the girl, she’s a peacu. but I’m afraid Schiller will break her heart.” “What I wanted to say to you. John son, in bringing you here was to ask a favor of you. It may be necessary for Lang here, or even myself, and possibly a posse to leave Paradise m the near future. *Will you have a relay for us, according to our old agreement?” “Yes, but how am I to know wheth er I strike the right party or not? I might make a mistake and let the wrong party through. I will keep my pledge to you, Golden, but you must be true; no traitors, you understanu. I am a friend of yours, but I can’t take too many risks for nothing. See?” “You know me wrell enough, John son,” replied Golden, “to know that I would not abuse the privilege, and that in no case but one of life and death to me would I ask it. When I do each of will be furnished with the countersign we now agree upon, and our special mode of recognition. I know you will do this for me. John son. and I want you to promise to do it for Lang. I owe him my life, and 1 f want him free to act for me and mine. By the way, I saw your wife. She asked me to ask you to come home Sot a visit on the 23rd of December, because Millie (she is a lovely girl) is going to marry John Edwards!” Johnson had deserted his wife. He was not a scoundrel exactly, but one wno loved idleness and drink. His married life had notvbeen a happy one, * but he thought a great deal of his daughter, Millie. This last remark of Golden touched Johnson in a tender spot. “If you come back this way soon I will pull up stakes with you and we will make the trip together.” • Louis ntanaged to draw him up De hind him on the horse. Turning, Louis was just in time to see the train dis appearing from view, as he thought, into the very base of one of the moun tains. A lit pine knot swinging from a tree over the roadway showed fully a mile away. The train men thought Louis wTould be torn to pieces, or hoped he would, anyway. Whether he escaped or not was of little consequence to them, feel ing that if he did escape it would be but to run his neck into the noose for lending a helping hand to some one who was trying to escape, so they drove on, leaving him to his fate. "Why were you attempting to es cape?” asked Lang, as the two start ed on the back trail. "I have been sentenced to death for attempting to release a prisoner just brought in, and made my escape by scaling the walls of the city! \ou will get yourself into trouble by sav ing me—you will have to share my fate. Don’t you hear the dogs? They will tear you to pieces.” Lang was armed with a repeating rifle and twro revolvers. "Take the gun from my back,” said Louis coolly. “Never say die! Shoot to kill when you do shoot. Don’t kill the keeper unless you have to in order to save your own life—and leave the future to me!” Up to this time no keeper had appear ed. Louis had had hopes of saving the escaping man without bloodshed —this could hardly be done, he now realized, because the sound of the gal loping horse had attracted the hounds and they were swiftly closing in on the fugitives Hearing a sound off to the right like that made by a human running through the bush, Louis call ed out: “Hello, you keeper of the dogs! Call them off!” No answering shout came from the keeper. The hounds could plainly be seen from behind now, their eyes shining like huge lumps of living coals. The noise made by the gallop ing horse could not drown the noise made by the hounds, whose breath came in hoarse snarls and pants. The train by this time had entered the city and no one, not even Golden, appeared in sight. A gust of wind had blown out the torch left by Gold en, and the darkness now became in tensified. Lang saw there was but one way to escape alive. “Shoot to kill, friend,” said Louis calmly. “Make every shot count!” The fugitive seems to have recover ed his wits, for turning in the saddle, he fired into the ranks of the pursuing dogs. The poor horse, loaded with his double burden, and exhausted by his long journey, could not long keep up the killing pace. He was panting with exertion and staggered blindly. If the horse should fall the dogs would be uDon them. Both riders thought of this new danger at the same time, for each straightened up and Lang freed his feet from the stirrups. The expected came! The liOrse stumbled and fell! Lang and the man he was trying to save seemed to be miraculously protected, for they fell upon their feet uninjured. Now that the fugitives were somewhat accus tomed to the gloom, they could see quite plainly. “Back to back!” cried Lang, “And shoot to kill!” Both men now were as cool as two brave men can be when facing death. On came the dogs; foam falling from their extended jaws. Being close behind' the fallen horse, the man killing beasts had swerved sidewrise and now completely encircled our im prisoned friends. The two men fired in rapid succession at the glowing orbs of the beasts, and they had the satis faction to see at least two bite the dust. Before the other dogs reached them up thundered a horseman from out of the darkness. “Dowm, dogs!” the newcomer thundered in a voice of command, cracking a great black whip, which made a report like the discharge of a revolver. The beasts recognized their master, and obeyed, but lay ready to spring. “Load up!’ whispered Lang, as he slipped a few cartridges into his re volver and placed the man’s hand upon his cartridge belt, so that he, too. could reload. “Who are you?” cried the new comer. As he spoke one of the hounds gave a long drawn out “death howl,” which is always the forerunner of the death of a human being. Lang and the man at his back pressed closer together and straightened themselves up to resist a second charge. Down the road from the direction of the city could be seen Golden on horseback, madly galloping toward them, waving a pine torch in his hands. “I am a candidate on the way to the city!” said Lang answering the keeper's query "I am Wilson,” quietly said Lang's companion. “Call off your dogs!” said Louis calmly. "Don’t you know that you have for feited your life by helping this man to escape?” the keeper asked of Lang. “I am saving him from the dogs— not from justice.” replied Lang. The keeper's face took on a demonia cal expression; he raised his huge whip and brought the lash down upon the haunches of the nearest dog. “Then save him!” crted the brutal man. With howls of rage and pain the dogs bounded into the air to spring upon their prey. (To be continued.) COLLIE RECOVERS THE CAT Takes a Long Journey to Find the Friend of His Youth. A family living in Vermont removed from their long-time residence to an other village, some forty miles away. They took with them a Scotch collie of unusual intelligence, but left behind the family cat. The collie and the cat had been warm friends for several years and had fought each other’s bat tles with courage and impartiality. After the family reached their new home the collie was evidently lone some. One evening as the family was gathered about the open fire some remarks were made about this and the man of the house, patting the i collie on the head, said: “I am sorry that we did not bring George with us. You miss your old playmate, don’t you?” The next morning the collie had disappeared. Three days after ward he came into the yard in a state of great enjoyment, indicated it the usual dog w-ay, followed by George, the cat. Both seemed somew-hat ex cited, and the collie showed marks of battle. Each seemed greatly de lighted in the company of the other, and the old-time status quo w-as at once resumed. Out of curiosity inquiry was made by the family, both at their old resi dence and along the line of the main highway between the two places, which developed the fact that the dbg appeared at the old home, very de liberately and very distinctly induced the cat to start on the journey with him and had protected him en route, with a clash of arms for nearly every mile. Of course, the question arose as to the language by which he told George his wants and what inducements were offered to go with him on the haz ardous journey. GROWING JET BLACK ROSES. Englishman Discovers the Secret Long Sought by Florists. Florists in New York were greatly Interested to-day in the announcement that an Englishman has discovered how to grow jet black roses, a feat which has been vainly attempted for many years. If a dozen of them could be offered for sale to-day in the city leading florists agreed that there would be no difficulty in obtaining $1,000 for the bunch. On a few estates along the Rhine practically black roses have been growrn for the last ten years, but all efforts to eliminate a redish tint in the center of the bud have so far failed. No secret has been more closely guarded by the German gardeners than this one of developing even a comparatively black flower. Visitors are allowed to look at the bushes and buds on special occasions, but what ingredient has been put into the soil to bring about the abnormal color has not been told even to close friends. In California a specialist has also been partly successful in producing roses practically black, but, according to announcement in London, it remain ed for a peddler of shoelaces to at tain perfection. It was said to-day by New York florists that undoubtedly the color is the result of a chemical introduced in the soil. The same principle, however, is said to be 5nvolved as in the (jevelopment of blue hydrangeas, wHich are pro duced by putting iron into the soil in which the plants are grown. The black blossoms would be most popular as indications of mourning, but it was agreed by florists that the day is yet distant when any one of thr freaks will be seen in their windows. —Baltimore Sun. PICTURES OF ADMIRAL JOHN PAUL JONES ARE MANY AND VARIED i * —■———————————— — " He who desires to confirm his opin ion of John Paul Jones. America’s distinguished naval commander, can do so in the library of the Navy de partment at Washington, be that opin ion unfavorable or favorable to the great sea captain. In a score of old prints gathered during past decades from various sources John Paul Jones is depicted as a bloodthirsty pirate, which was the view taken of him by the British, whose coasts he scoured in the gallant Ranger; as a bluff sea captain, which is the opinion most schoolboys have gained from reading the account of his plucky victory over the Serapis, and as the cultured gen tleman and accomplished naval officer, which is the opinion held of him by practically the entire American naval service to-day. Mr. Charles W. Stewart, superin tendent of the Naval War Records Of fice and Library, has arranged these old prints in a highly interesting col lection. Many of them purport to be engravings from pictures made during the lifetime of Jones. All that is of John Paul Jones, which is now much prized in the collection of the Navy department. It potrays a bluff sea captain type, far removed from either conception that he was a des perate buccaneer or a naval dandy. The figure is that of a man probably forty-five years old, which is some what further advanced in age than Jones was at the time he commanded the Bon Homme Richard, attired in seafaring dress, including, wide, loose, flowing trousers. He rests the point of a cutlass upon the rail of the ship, and the legend under this picture tells us that it is “Capt. Paul Jones, from an original drawing taken from the life, on board the Serapis, published London, Oct. 22, 1779.” The date is less than a month after he captured the Serapis, and if it was really drawn on that ship may be considered possi bly an accurate portrayal of the great American naval commander in the hour of his greatest victory. The picture in which John Paul Jones is shown boarding the Serapis from his own victorious but riddled PAUL o JONES ° _ :h4ptian fCET/SAE2? a^C?yy<Z&£Z7 known of the man confirms the opin ion that, not unlike some fighting men of his day and since, John Paul Jones was something of a dandy. Certainly he was a favorite in Paris in that cir cle of imperial society which gave fre quent employment to artists and sculp tors. That the skull of the body re covered from an abandoned grave yard in Paris, by Gen. Horace Porter, American ambassador to France, cor responded to the precise measure ments of Houdin's bust of John Paul Jones was accepted as the final proof of identification. Houdin was an ex ceptionally painstaking sculptor and a copy of his bust of Jones which stands in the office of the Secretary of the Navy at Washington is consid ered most probably a true likeness. One of the best pictures in the col lection is an engraving by Carl Gutten burg from a drawing by C. J. Notte, a French artist. This rather reflects the favorable opinion which the French had of Commodore Jones, for it depicts a fairly young but deter mined looking officer, standing behind the shot-riddled rail of the Bon Homme Richard, with a sword swing ing easily in his right hand, while his left rests upon the butt of one of half a dozen pistols in his belt. The legend of this picture says: “John Paul Jones, Commodore in the Service of the United States of America, as he appeared in the en gagement of the twenty-third of Sep tember, 1779, against Commodore Pearson. His vessel mounted forty guns. The English ship Serapis, for , ty-five guns, had, moreover, the ad vantage in caliber and range. Com modore P. Jones entangled his ship with the bowsprit of the enemy and continued the engagement side by side for two hours and three-quarters. The action lasted three hours and and one quarter. The Bon Homme Richard sank the next day.” “Tom” Ochiltree, of mellow mem ory, during one of his sojourns in Paris, in 1883, picked up an old print and sinking Bon Homme Richard is j thoroughly heroic conception, but th [ features and figure of the victor bes little resemblance to other portrait and drawings. This picture, whic is by A. L. Stephens, is somewha more recent than most of the item in the collection. Chappel's original painting of Jone has often been called the George Washington picture because of the re semblance of it to a well known por trait of the Father of his Country, whom Jones, incidentally, knew well, they both having lived in Virginia. In this picture Jones is standing in a dignified pose, his left hand slight ly outstretched from the body and clasping a telescope. And row turning over the pictures in this collection is found a most startling creation in boldest black and white. “Paul Jones, the Pirate,” is the legend, but it is unnecessary, for the dashing, bearded figure wears a uniform emblazoned with skull and crossbones. A gory cutlass in one hand, a smoking pistol in the other, he is the incarnation of all that is demoniac in fancies of piracy, while the idea is helped out by portrayal in the background of his men ruthlessly cutting down the brave tars of Old England. This picture is an engraving published by A. Park, of London, and is apparently very old, as is another old English print, apparently only a trial proof copy. It shows Jones with demure side whiskers and immense hat of the style later affected by Na poleon, with tassels pendent from each side. The crowning glory of this uni form is a pair of striped trousers, which give a sort of Uncle Sam at mosphere. A head and shoulders engraving also from an unknown source, shows Jones as a mild and sedate appearing man, with white hair (or is it a white wig?), who, one would think, might pass for a substitute merchant In the colonies. --- Very old and deemed very good by students of John Paul Jones lore is an engraving from a drawing by Va rin, a French artist. This shows in Jones’ countenance something of the shrewdness and humor he inherited from his Scotch ancestry. It is a quizzical but the same time a pleas ing countenance. With curly hair and chubby face Chapman endowed his portrait of Jones, which was engraved by act of Congress. Of the thousands in the British Isles who thought harshly of Jones, Lord and Lady Selkirk, whose country seat still stands at Dumfries, Scotland, were about the only persons of qual ity and discernment who came in touch with the American naval com mander. It was on April 23. 1778, that the American privateer Ranger put into St. Mary’s isle and sent an armed party to surround the house oi the Selkirks, demand their plate and capture Lord Selkirk if possible. He was not at home, so the party took the plate. When Jones arrived later at Brest he wrote to Lady Selkirk that he de sired to return the plate. He pro posed not only to restore his share of the prize, but to purchase the share owned by his crew for the purpose oi giving it back to the Selkirks. Lord and Lady Selkirk were much surprised to get this Jetter, which regretted the fortune which caused him to make ar expedition against their home. Loro Selkirk wrote a reply, but not know ing how to get it to Jones, sought the counsel of Lord de Spencer, postmast er general of England. Lord de Spencer was evidently not much impressed by the favorable tendency of the Selkirks towan Jones, for he returned the letter te Lord Selkirk with the remark: “I cannot help doubting, in the sit nation I am in, the propriety of mj forwarding a letter to such a rasca and rebel as this Jones. A letter di rected to him, of course, must be opened at the postoffice.” The foregoing extracts from letters &±ul jones -.f&yr a7w&v&ar ■ -z&a&arr' copies of w hich were recently obtained for the navy department by the Amer ican embassy at London, shows the view taken of Jones by nearly all the people of England, but it also shows that the persons with whom he came in contact were disposed to recognize the virtues which he possessed and to acknowledge the finer sensibilities of his character. It would undoubt edly have been a great pleasure to Jones, who knew the bitterness of feel ing against him in England, to have received the letter which Lord Sel kirk wrote, but which Lord de Spen cer prevented from reaching its des tination.—New York Herald. Little Angle For some considerable time the pa tient schoolteacher had been endeav oring to explain the meaning of the word angle to the infant class. Towards the finish of her effort she pointed to a corner of the room. “There,” she said, “that corner, children, forms an angle. Now can can any scholar tell me what an angle is?£ Little Doris Tresser’s hand went up. “Please, teacher,” she said, “an angle is a place to put bad boys in.” Abandon* His Title. Reginald Ward, American million aire, society man, friend of King Ed ward and once a Boston broker, has abandoned his title of “count” con ferred upon him by Pope Leo XIII., on account of adverse criticism. Superstitions. She was a little excited as she threw the clock at him. His equa nimity was not marked, as he re sponded with a vase. They fell into each other’s arms and rolled grace-, fully over the carpet, clinching and hitting in the breakaway. The end of the round found him sitting on pthe floor, dazed by the gentle patter of a potato masher on his head. Having a mind to continue the pleasantries, she seized the table cloth and scat tered broadcast the articles thereon. “Heavens!” he exclaimed. “Now, see what you’ve done!” “How careless of me!” She was very regretful. And apprehensively they looked at the salt that she had" spilled. They believed in the sign. They feared there would be trouble in the house. A Dental Treasure Trove. "1 know where I could go, right here in this country, and dig up millions of dollars’ worth ot. treasure,” said a dentist. “Where would I go? To our ceme teries. To the mouths of our dead. In the teeth of our dead enough gold is going to waste to enrich a small town. “You have in your teeth $10 in gold. Your sister has $5. Your father and mother have each $7. And there are 90,000,000 people in America. “Allow to each person’s teeth a half dollar’s worth of gold. You have then $45,000,000 hidden in our mouths. When we die this gold won’t be ex tracted. It will be buried with us. “To take the gold from the teeth of the dead before burial would be neith er difficult nor grewsome. It would be a good idea to pass a law requiring all this gold, which does no good in the grave, to be removed after death and distributed in charity.” Want Coins Up to Date. Of late a number of natives of West Africa have practically refused to accept any other coin than that having the profile of King Edward en graved upon it. They ha^e an idea that now that Queen Victoria is dead the British government may repudi ate coins bearing her image. Tallest Californian Dead. Noted for stature, bigness of heart, and stability of character, Andrew J. Hart, the tallest man in California, died in Los Angeles, June 27, at the age of 67 years. He measured 6 feet 10% inches in height, and, though looking quite slender, weighed 250 pounds. He had lived in Los Angeles for six years, and made hosts of friends among his neighbors. Andrew Hart’s father died when he was a boy, leaving a mother for him to provide for as well as the care of the Indiana farm upon which he was born. Until he was 60 years of age he performed this duty for his mother, and it was only her death at a great age that finally released him and left him free to marry the woman he loved from childhood. His wife survives him._ San Francisco Chronicle. Should Reverse Salaries. “You cannot always judge a man's brains by his salary,” said Arnold White, lecturing to workingmen in London recently. “Togo gets £648 a year, while Admiral Rojestvensky** salary is £11,000.” READY FOR THE THIEF. Famous Sprinter Happened to Be In Condition for Chase. Arthur Duffy the sprinter, who c»r>* ried off many racing honors here and abroad, once told a friend of an amus ing experience in New Haven, where he had gone to participate in intercol legiate athletic events. The evening following the close of the meet Duffy was in a hotel demon strating to his friends the best kind of clothes to don for a race. To do this better, he had stripped and put on his new trunks and running shoes. Just as he had done so, a commotion was heard in the corridor outside Duffy’s door, and there were cries of “Thief! Stop thief!” It should be added that this occurred at about one In the morning, for Duffy and his friends had been to a theater and had supped afterward. As soon as he heard the words, Duffy threw open his door and dashed out, in time to see a man darting down the stairway. He made after the man and after a sprint of half a block over took him. As Duffy grabbed the cul prit by the collar the latter wheeled as if to fight, but when he observed the trunks and the running shoes his jaw dropped and he shook his head. ”1 give up, old man,” said he dis consolately. “When dese hotel people gets to keeping a man ready in run nin’ costume to chase a man at one in the mornin’, they’re too much for me!” —The Sunday Magazine. OLD AS EARTH ITSELF. Is the Comparison Between Hailstones and Eggs. There is some strange relation be tween hailstones and poultry, or be tween hailstones and eggs, that fas cinates mankind. The hailstone may be dodged, the egg should dodged, but the comparison between hailstones and eggs never can be dodged. It is impossible to get away from it. When ever there is a hailstorm, when ten der plants are cut to death and win dow glass is shivered, the hailstones are always the size of hens’ eggs. Nobody ever heard of a hailstone the size of baseballs, walnuts or potatoes, or the size of a macadam rock, golf balls, tomatoes or the fist, but ever and always the size of eggs. Yet eggs vary in size. . No chicken fancier would think of pointing to a cackling hen and saying: “She lays eggs as big as hailstones.” There really should be no compari son between hailstones and eggs. A shower of hailstones is a work of na ture.# while a shower of eggs is apt to be a work of ill-nature. A shower of hailstones may be destructive, but a shower of eggs is positively insan ity. The longer a hailstone stays on earth the more Inconspicuous it be comes, while the longer an egg stays on earth the more convinced we ar« that it is h^re. The Mill and the Water. “ 'The mill will never grind With the water that is past,’ ” Sighed the Moralizing Person To the Cobbler at his last; And he sighed again profoundly At this solemn thought of hiz Concerning men's and women’s Wasted opportunities. * But the Cobbler kept on cobbling. And he said: ’‘Wen. I don’t claim To be much uv a grinder, But I git there jist the same With cobblin’ shoes; and, mister, If I kin say my say. I'll say that there warter Wa’n’t quite all throwed away.” r The Moralizing Person Sighed again and shook his head. And the Cobbler kept on talking: "Why. it’s plain as day,” he said. “You kin put yer plant uv bilers Jist below the mill an' git A J’int er two uv pipin’ To reach right up to it; "Then chuck in slabs and shavln’s. And set the pile afire, An' 'fore you know it, mister. You've got that steam up higher Than Parson Trimble's steeple; Then turn yer throttle, and That mill will git a move on And grind to beat the band.’’ The Cobbler ceased conversing And let his hammer drop, And the Moralizing Person Got up and left the shop. Absurd and Perilous. Congressman Landis desired to Il lustrate the absurd and perilous posi tion of a boodle politician whose dis honesty had been exposed. “There, before the crash came,” he said, “the man stood tottering and swaying, pale and scared; and, though I pitied him, I had to laugh at him be cause his position was so ludicrous. “He reminded me of the Indianap olis barber who got drunk one busy Saturday afternoon. “This barber, heavy with eighteen large, cold glasses of beer, lurched into his 6hop at the end of the ball game, put on his white coat, seized a razor, and began to shave a patron whom the apprentice had just lathered up. “As the barber shaved aw&y he held onto the patron’s nose. “‘Hang it!’ the patron said. What are you about, anyway? Let go of my nose, will you?’ “ ‘Let go?’ said the barber. ‘Not a bit of it If I did I’d fall down.’ ” Turtle Weighs 700 Pounds. A- monster sea turtle, known as a leather-back, has been captured at the mouth of the Nanticoke river, in Mary land. The turtle weighed between 600 and 700 pounds, was a fraction over six feet long from tip to tip of shell and had flippers over three feet from tip to tip. A half inch hawser was required to halter the big fellow to a post. During an effort to free itself the rope, which was fastened over the head and under the flippers, became so tight that it was found that the turtle would be choked. The big reptile became en tangled in an ordinary fish net spread off the mouth of the Nanticoke and practically wrecked It. Murphy’s Rise to Greatness. Charles F. Murphy, head of Tam many hall, is now as great a nabob as his predecessor, Richard Croker. He moved to his new country place on Long Island a few days ago, carrying with him all the accessories of social greatness—a string of horses, two automobiles, a yacht, a troop of ser vants and many other things regard ing which he did not even draam twenty years ago when he was con ductor on a horse car. Said one who has known him for many years: "He does not need a knife when he eats bis pie nowadays and it is said that he can make a salad dressing all by him self. Croker never made such prog ress In the time.”