The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917, September 07, 1905, Image 3

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Copyright 1905, by Charles Morris Butler.
un«r i cn aviii.
The Auction of Women.
After the noise had somewhat sub
sided and order had been restored,
the crier announced that an allotment
of women would then take place.
As was the usual custom, upon the
arrival of marriageable females into
the community, ballotting for the priv
ilege of claiming a mate was about to
take place. As explained by the crier
there were eighty-three men who had
registered their intention of competing
for a wife. The mode of procedure was
very simple; into a basket were
placed as many slips of paper as there
were competitors; but as there were
but twenty women, so also there were
but twenty numbers, the balauce neing
blanks. The numbered tickets alone
gave the holder privilege of choosing
his mate. The women cou’d refuse to
marry the person who asked for their
hand only by accepting some other
person. The matter of choice, then,
was slightly limited, and often led to
the buying and selling of chances.
As the numbers were being placed
in the basket, Lang said: “Place me
on the list.”
“And me,” said Wilson.
“Take your places with the other
contestants, then.” replied the king.
Lang and Wilson did so. Each read
the other’s thoughts; either if suc
cessful would ask Pearl Huntington
to be his wife; there was no doubt
in their minds that she. too. would
be forced to enter the lists.
The crier held aloft his basket. “In
thts basket,” he said, “are twenty
numbers and sixty-three blank slips.
Those only who obtain numbered
tickets have the privilege of choosing
a wife. Ready!”
“One moment!” interrupted Golden,
speaking at the people and at the
same time to Schiller. “The crier an
nounces ‘twenty women!’ and that the
owner of a successful slip can be the
only competitors. I count twenty-<vie
women! This woman. Pearl Hunting
ton. she is in Paradise; if she belongs
here, if she remains here, she should
become a citizen. As a citizen she
has a right to make a choice. I de
mand that she be put upon the list!
The king, if he wishes to enter the
contest, can have the same oppor
tunity as the rest of the citizens. I
| aie snouia expiate nis crime ix.» in a
1 duel with another man; (2) or against
a mountain lion in a hand-to-hand en
counter; (3) or go free. Three slips
of paper were placed in the basket
as before, with the three propositions
written on the different slips. The
condemned man being brought into
the ring blindfolded, was assisted to
take a slip from the basket. The per
sonage drew the slip which condemned
him to fight a duel to the death with
some antagonist as soon as one could
be furnished either by volunteer act,
or by some other criminal.
While the people were enjoying
themselves visiting among themselves,
the king and his council, which was
Rogers, Golden and Albert Fish, the
treasurer, saw that the candidates
signed their names, and allotted them
certain places to sleep and duties to
i perform. Everything passed off quite
' smoothly until it became Lang's turn.
As was the custom, newly married
couples were given a house to live in.
Each woman was supposed to do the
cooking and washing for two persons
besides her husband. Pearl Hunting
ton had never been brought up to do
such work and when allotted her
duties, foolishly made objection.
This was Schiller's cue. “Ignorance
is no excuse,” he said.
It was foolish of Lang to enter into
discussion about the merits or demer
its of the case; mortal, like the rest
of us. he retorted, when it would have
been safer and wiser for him to have
held his peace. “This is revenge,” he
said to Schiller. “You would overlook
these faults in her did you not wish
to punish her!”
The outburst gave the king the ad
vantage. Schiller did not blame
Pearl—it was but natural for the im
prisoned and abused girl to be spite
ful—but he was murderously revenge
ful at Lang for stepping between him
and his desires.
“I w’ill overlook your wife’s short
comings.” said Schiller, “but your
charges against me I will not over
look! For insubordination I hereby
sentence you to work in the mines for
a year.”
Golden and Rogers, though they
were perfectly aware of the advantage
Schiller was taking of Lang, did not
interrupt the king. The main body
of the populace had retired for the
“Will you be my wife?” l'"
move you tnar sucn De me wui oi me
people!”
“So be it!” came the cry.
“This is an outrage!” thundereu
Schiller, white with rage. “This is
a scheme to cheat me of my revenge!”
A mighty combined howl of derision
was the only answer he received, and
realizing that it was useless to plead,
Schiller bowed to the people’s will.
Pearl Huntington rose from her
seat. “Mr. Golden,” she said, in a
voice choked with emotion, “thank the
people for me, for their small favor!
Tell them that rather than become the
wife of such a man as Schiller, I
would take my own life!”
“The law is,” said Golden sternly,
“that you take a husband! If Schiller
is the only person to ask for your
hand to-night, the law will grant him
that! ‘Between two evils’ let me re
mind you, ‘choose the least.' ”
“I understand you!” she said.
The ballot box being held aloft king
Schiller stepped to the front, placed in
his hand and drew out a paper.
Whether it was luck or chance, or
through the power he wielded, Schil
ler drew a numbered ticket!
Wilson was next—fate seemed
against him—the paper he drew was
blank! “It all depends on you, Lang!”
said he.
Lang quietly put in his hand and
drew out a paper. He walked toward
Miss Huntington as he opened 4ho
packet. It contained a number.
King Schiller was standing before
Pearl. “I ask you. my lady, to be my
wife!” said Schiller. “Think well be
fore you refuse—I have you in my
power! ”
“I do refuse!” said the indignant
girl.
“Miss Huntington,” said Louis Lang,
stepping to her side, with his slip
in his hand, “will you be my wife?”
“I will!” said Pearl stepping to tbe
side of our hero. But there was a look
of shame upon her face.
“Then by virtue of the law, I pro
nounce you man and wife, said Gol
den, quickly stepping between Schiller
and Pearl, placing her hand within
that of Lang’s, outstretched to receive
her.
“Curse you!” said Schiller. “I will
be even with you yet!”
■ “Be careful, Schiller!” calmly re
torted Golden. “A threat—though you
be king of Paradise—is a punishable
crime!” ,
Fearful of another scene, afraid to
trust himself further, with a muttered
curse he walked away to another part
of the room.
Before the crowd dispersed there
was a ballot taken by the assembly to
see if a certain person condemned to
nigui, auu wunoui me restraining in
fluence of the people it would have
been open folly to have pitted them
selves against the recognized bead of
the community.
The silence of his champions forced
Lang to realize that he had made a
mistake. Discretion being the better
part of valor, then the youth attempt
ed to remedy the evil done without
really understanding how he had got
ten himself into trouble. “I am a new
arrival here,” he said, “and was not
aware that to speak the truth even to
the king was a criminal offense.” It.
was a poor attempt at an apology
without weakening.
“You have made your apology,
Lang,” retorted Schiller, haughtily,
the flush of victory and power agsin
anpearing on his face. The opp~>r
tunity occurring to him, he added,
“And to show you that I sympathize
with your ignorance, 1 hereby grant
you the privilege of coming to earth
each night.”
Louis managed to say. “I thar.k you,
sir!” and added to show that he felt
the force of the king's words: “I un
derstand the honor that you do me,
sir!”
Schiller smiled sneeringly.
Pearl, having no protector but I ouis,
though looking upon him as a desperate
criminal, and therefore holding him in
something of repugnance, fully rea
lized the extent of the danger he
was running for her sake, and clung
to him as if he were really what he
purported to be.
“The lady, perhaps,” said Schiller,
noticing how Pearl clung to Louis,
“would like her father to live with
her?”
“Most gracious king!” said Pearl.
It was the first favor she had deigned
to accept at the scoundrel’s hands.
“I grant your request,” said the
king. Pearl bowed. The reason for
granting this concession was soon
made manifest. “As I have issued a
decree to the effect that your father
be housed in the haunted house until
he expressed a desire to comply with
the laws of Paradise and begin prac
tice. in order for you to be wdth him
I will have to compel you both to live
in that forbidding place! It is your
own fault, however,” he said, as he
noticed Pearl shudder. “I offered you
a palace, you chose the hovel!”
The haunted house was, of all the
houses in Paradise, the one Louis
l^ang would have chosen to live in.
It was not haunted to him, but on
the contrary was the only entrance to
freedom through the tunnel. He could
not have asked for a greater favor
than the privilege of being there.
“You can report to Rogers In the
morning, Lang,” said Schillor, who
could not help but show his exulta
tion in his face and in his voice. “To
night your home- is ready. As we
have been expecting Dr. Huntington
to make trouble, and be a guest of the
city’s for some time, you will find
the house in better condition than
usual.” Louis bowed. Wilson was
standing aloof awaiting the outcome
of his case. For the first time Schil
ler appeared to notice him. The king
beckoned to him. “Wilson, you can
show your friends to their home. As
a reward for the blow you gave me
yesterday ^ou will work out a year’s
penance the mines also. As you
seem to be pretty fond of Mrs. Lang,
I also grant you the privilege of liv
ing under the same roof with her!
Here are the keys to the house. Let
me warn you against allowing Dr.
Huntington out of the room allotted
to him. You can see that he gets
food, but at the same time give him
no outdoor air or allow him no free
dom!” Having done all the -harm pos
sible, Schiller then bid his company
adieu.
As soon as the king departed Wilson
led the way to the haunted house.
There were no lights burning in any
of the rooms and the dwelling pre
sented a very deserted and dilapi
dated appearance. The house had
been used for a prison for some time,
and there were bars across the win
dows, while a bar of iron faced the
front door, which was held in place
by being locked with a huge padlock.
The front room, so the story went
(as told by Golden) was once the
scene of a most foul murder. A man
had killed his wife by beating her to
death with a heavy stove-poker. The
noises heard on the inside of the
house were supposed to be the echo
of the blows and groans emitted at
that time. Even Schiller, educated
man that he was, believed that this
place was haunted. Perhaps his
crimes made him a coward. In con
demning Louis, Wilson and Pearl to
live in this place, then, he imagined
that he was inflicting upon them a
most cruel punishment. This was true
to a certain extent with all but Lang.
To Lang, however, the place was a
blessed spot, and had each room of
its six been peopled with departed
spirits, it would still have been the
place of all places for him.
Not content with condemning our
friends to live in this unholy spot,
forever seeking a way to be revenged
on Dr. Huntington and his daughter,
and now also Lang, who had snatched
from him his revenge, Schiller, before
retiring for the night, placed a spy
upon the track of the trio to discover,
if possible, some means of further
venting his spite upon them.
(To be continued.)
SHE IS FOND OF FLOWERS.
Late John Hay's Eldest Daughter Is
a Floriculturist.
Instead of driving a four-in-hand or
running a gasoline chariot, Mrs.
Payne Whitney prefers quieter
pleasures and finds other outlets for
her talents, says the New York Press.
Floriculture, sometimes called the
most feminine of fads, is her hobby,
and she finds her flowers a never-end
ing diversion. The large gardens
wnich are laid out on her picturesque
estate at Manhasset are under ner
constant supervision and contain the
largest collection of roses in the coun
try. In these fields blossom roses of
every variety, large and small, single
and double, from simple of dress to
the heavy colored. Mrs. Whitney re
cently paid a fabulous sum for a rose
imported from Paris, which is said to
be a radical departure from anything
ever seen here before. The French
capital has the rose craze just now
and many rich floriculturists there are
vying with the orchid collectors of
London, among whom Joseph Cham
berlain is the leader, for supremacy in
the size of collections. It is even
said that some of this interest pro
ceeds from a belief that speculation
in flower culture forms an agreeable
digression from commonplace margin
deals in stocks.
Trailing Tramps of Air and Sea.
With all our learning, we don’t
know much about some of the most
common things. For instance, though
men have been catching fish along the
coasts of the world for many centur
ies, no man knows where they go
when they disappear from the shore
waters and swim toward the deep
sea.
So it is with birds. Though their
annual migrations have been written
and sung about ever since the memory
of man, no one knows what tracks
they take, where they stop for rest,
or how fast they travel.
Recently we have begun to wonder
to some purpose about these things.
The United States is putting copper
tags on codfish every year now and
turning them loose again. The tags
are attached to the fins, and on them
is a number and the request that the
fisherman who catches a fish bearing
the tag send it back to the govern
ment, w'ith a statement, saying where
he got it and how much it weighed.
The Germans are also trying this
experiment. They fasten the tags to
the gills of the fish. The Germans
also fasten aluminum rings to the legs
of birds now, to find out which way
they go when they fly away in the
autumn. They have discovered al
ready that many species of birds do
not fly due south, as had been suppos
ed, but go east and west first. It has
been found, too. that the crows do
not cross the German ocean when they
fly nc h in the spring, but that they
follow the coast along the northern
part of Germany to Russia, and so
work north.
Overheard in the Courtroom.
First Lady—I wonder why the Judge
deferred sentence until to-morrow?
Second Lady—Probably he wanted
to talk the case over with his wife.—
Tales.
His Trouble Over.
Mrs. Twicewed—“Henry, I do be
lieve you are jealous of my poor first
husband.”
Mr. Twicewed—“No, I merely envy
him.”
French Army Bands.
The two-year enlistment plan in
France is likely to deprive the French
army of its bands. An efficient bands
man is not to be made in two years.
What Attracted Him.
“I’m a-goin’ to be a Arctic explorer,”
announced Tommy Twaddles, who was
reading about the Peary expedition.
“Indeed?” asked Pa Twaddles. “Are
you so anxious to find the north
pole?” m
“Naw, I don’t care about that. But
up in them cold regions it's dangerous
to wash yer face!”
Catching.
“Where did he catch his wife, any
way?”
“He didn’t. She caught him.”
“If that’s the case, he caught a Tar
tar, eh?”
“Yes, and he’s been catching it ever
Bince.”
A Collection of Idiots.
"I want to ask for the hand of your
daughter in marriage,” said the young
man.
“You’re an idiot!” said the irate
father.
“I know it. But I didn’t suppose
you’d object to another one in the
family!”
Clear the Track.
“I see that some of the Sioux tribe
of Indians are buying automobiles.”
“Getting ’em cheaper than white
buyers could, I suppose.”
“Why so?”
“Because they don’t need any honk
honk! They can furnish the war
whoops!”
GOOD ADVICE.
-- V
Miss Oldone—I wouldn’t have refused Charley Banks if I’d been you.
Miss Sweet&irl—I don’t believe I would either, if I'd been you.
Absurd.
“Last night I slapped a mosquito on
the face-”
“How absurd!”
"What’s absurd?”
“Slapping a mosquito on the face!”
“You didn’t let me finish. I slapped
him on the face of my girl; and her
father thought it was the smack of a
kiss he had heard and he bounced
down stairs and chased me a block.”
Whom the Old Man Feared.
“Say," said Mrs. Nuritch, “your
father’s got to stop smokin’ his pipe
in the parlor. You’ll have to speak to
him; he won’t mind me.”
“He ain’t afraid o’ me, neither,” re
plied Nuritch.
“Well, something’s got to be done.”
“If I wasn’t gfraid o’ scarin’ the old
man too bad I’d get the butler after
him.”—Philadelphia Press.
The Three Fiddles.
“And what did you see at the con
cert, Willie?” asked t'ne father.
“I saw a man play a little fiddle and
another one play a big fiddle,” said
the boy.
“And don’t you remember the ’cello
player, too, Willie?” suggested the
mother, who accompanied him.
“Oh, yes; and then another man
played a half-grown fiddle.”
His Mistake.
“It is strange that a man like Mr.
Brayne6, with so many good ideas as
to government, should command so
little attention in public life.”
“Yes,” answered Senator Sorghum.
“He is one of the people who figure
out how things ought to be, instead of
finding out how they are going to be
and laying his plans accordingly.”—
Washington Star.
Liable to Carnages.
“Papa, what’s that red light out in
the street for?”
“It’s to warn people that the street
Is dangerous.”
“Do they always set lights out when
a street is dangerous?”
“Not always. Never heard of ’em
setting any out in Wall street.”—De
troit Tribune.
Her Object.
“Did you hear that statement Mrs.
Tattle is making.”
“Yes, and every word of it is true.”
“But I supposed Mrs. Tattle was
merely a gossiping romancer.”
“Well, she’s telling the truth this
time because she knows it will make
more trouble.”
I —A— _
“Then,” said the jilted lover, “am
I to understand that I no longer sway
your heart?”
“That's what!” replied the summer
girl; “for awhile, at least, my heart
will be controlled by a syndicate.”
Enjoyed the Change.
“He's married, all right.”
“How can you tell? He has no
wife with him.”
“I know, and see how happy he is
even at this dull summer hotel.”
Hot Air.
“Was he really interested in the
boat race?”
“Oh, intensely, apparently.”
“How was he betting?”
“With his mouth, as usual.”—Phil
adelphia Press.
Even.
He—You married me for my
money!”
She—Well, what if I did. I didn’t
get it! Isn’t that punishment enough?
—Detroit Free Press.
Similar in One Respect.
She—Occasionally we hear a wom
an speak of heaven in about the same
tone she would use in speaking of a
summer resort.
He—Well, she has cause for It.
That s w here we 11 have to go to or
sufTer from the heat.—Detroit Trib
une.
Quoting Him.
“I was just quoting Senator Sifgaroff
as yoo came up.”
"How !s he quoted?”
“He says times will be good this
fall.”
“Oh, I thought you were quoting
his price.”—Houston Post.
Strike Breakers.
Bilkins—What! You did not strike
him back when he slapped you in the
fac«?
Filkins—How could I? I had my um
brella In one hand and my gloves in
the other.—Translated for Tales from
Meggendorfer Blatter.
VERY OBLIGING.
Grocer—Ten pounds of flour, ma’am. Shall I send it for you?
Mrs. Takitt—No, I’ll take it with me if it isn't too heavy.
Grocer (absently)—I’ll make it as light for you as I possibly can.
Quite Hopeless.
“Dear Pop,” wrote the boy from the
art school, “don’t send me any more
money—I have saved half that which
you sent me last month.”
“Come home,” wired the old man,
“you’ll never make an artist.”—Puck.
A Come-Back.
Mrs. Mayhem—I’m sure I don’t know
why I ever married a one-eyed brute
like you!
Mr. Mayhem—I do. If I’d had two
eyes, I'd have looked further.
A Conversational Need.
“Money talks!” said the impudent
grafter.
“Yes,” answered the member of the
grand jury,” but it is about time there
was some sort of a grammar to hold
it down to proper discourse.”
His Finish.
Hicks—He tells me he doesn't know
what to do; he says he’s between the
devil and the deep sea.
Wicks—Well, I can see where’s he’s
going; I know he can’t swim.
*
Choice of Evils.
Singleton—Just as soon as a woman
can manage a man her love begins to
cool.
Wedderly—Yes; and just as soon as
she discoyers she can’t manage him
she begins to make it hot for him.
The Czar's Thoughts.
“I wonder w^hat the czar thought
when he heard there was dynamite
under his apartments?”
"I guess he thought he’d prefer the
ground floor of a cellarless house."
Comparatively Easy.
“They say Mrs. Blank works her
friends for a living. I should think
she would find it very hard to do."
“She does; but you see. before that
she triecf working her relative*.”
Detroit Fr*e Press.
Proof Positive.
Dixon—I understand your wife 1* a
strong-minded woman.
Hixon—You bet she is. Why, she
can actually write a letter without
adding a postscript
Mutually Satisfactory Arrangement.
They had been married in due and
ancient form.
Geoffrey,” said the young wife,
“you endowed me with all your world
ly goods, didn’t you?”
“I dH,” answered the young hus
band.
“Well, I hereby give them back to
you.”
“Gwendolen,” he said, “you prom
ised to obey me, did you not?”
“I did.”
“Well, dear, I hereby solemnly com
mand you to do as you please hereaf
ter, no matter what orders I may give
you.”
On that basis they lived happily
ever after.
Reminiscences.
Marie (after the honeymoon)—Max.
dear, here is the tree under which you
kissed me for the first time.
Max—You’re always raking up old
memories. I’ll have that tree cut
down.
Marie (after the tree has been cut
down)—Do you remember, Max Dear,
this is the very spot where the tree
grew, Tableau.—Translated for Tales
from Fliegende Blatter.
Fit.
“It fits you,” argued the modiste,
but the summer person shrugged her
shoulders archly.
“It fits me,” she said, drily, “but it
doesn't fit the exigencies. I am 30
years old. My time is short. My
bathing suit should correspond. Do
you understand?”
The modiste bowed and went for
her shears.—Puck.
Where He Fell Down.
Archibald—I wil do anything in the
world for you, dearest.
Helene—Will you?
Archibald—If you would only try
me!
Helene—Then take this collarette to
Catchem's department store and ex
change it for a size larger; I’ve lost
the slip.—Puck
Cause of the Change.
“The water was cold when I came
in,” said the thin bather, “but it feels
warm now'. I suppose it’s because I’ve
got used to it.”
“Huh, uh,” responded the fat bath
er. “A Boston girl just went out and
a New Orleans girl came in.”—Detroit
Tribune.
Where They Were.
“My husband and I read to each oth
er every evemng, now; it’s just splen
did,” said Mrs. Newlijred; “why don’t
you and your fiance do that when he
calls on you?”
“Gracious!” replied Miss De Muir,
“how can you read in the dark?”
Nothing Doing.
Nell—I told him if he dared to kiss
me he'd be sorry for it.
Belle—And was he?
Nell—No; but I was; I was sorry I
told him.
Unkind.
Digby—I lost my mind when I was
sick.
Higby—When do you expect it back?
—Judge.
SOIL HAD LITTLE CHANCE.
Scotland's Suffering at the Hands of
Visiting Englishmen.
An English golfer on a Scottish
links hit the turf ten times for every
once that he struck the ball. His cad
die ventured on a sarcastic remon
strance.
“Ha’ peety on aul Scotland, sir,*
said he. “She’s suffered eneuch at the
haunds o’ yer countrymen in the past
that ye sud treat her sae sair the day.
Hit the ba’, mon, an’ let the grun'
alane.”
“Confound Scotland!” shouted the
exasperated golfer, flinging down his
dub in a rage. “It’s just what Dr.
Johnson described it—‘stone, water
and a little earth.’ ”
“Sae the docthor said that, did he?”
inquired the eaddie.
“He did. And he was a very wise
man, let me tell you,” snapped the
Englishman.
“I believe ye,” retorted the caddie.
“Nae doot the docthor was a verra
wice mon, for there is muckle o’ stane
an’ watter in Scotland—oor mountains
an’ lochs that ye come sae for to see;
an’ it’s a sair truth that the soil is no
verra deep. You see. there’s sic a
number o’ English bodies come to
Scotland to play gowf.”—Tit Bits.
BOUND TO SING IT.
Preacher’* Rhythmical Remarks Fol
lowed by Congregation.
Ex-Congressman Harry Libby ol
Virginia tells a story of John Ran
dolph of Roanoke, which has never
been printed. Randolph had employed
a preacher named Clopton to deliver
some sermons to the negroes in the
chapel on the plantation. One Sunday
when the weather was very cold the
preacher was giving out the hymns,
two lines at a time, when he saw a
negro put his foot on the red-hol
stove, and called to him: ‘‘You rascal
you; you’ll burn your shoe.”
That fitted rhyme and meter, and
the negroes sang it. The preacher
smiled and explained: “My colored
friends, indeed you’re wrong; I didn’l
intend that for the song.”
The negroes also sang this verse
very piously, and then the preacher
Impatiently shouted at them: “I hop*
you will not sing again, until I have
time to explain.” And this they sang
with strenuous earnestness, so thai
Clopton gave up in despair, took u|
his Bible, announced a text and deliv
ered a sermon which was not so ryth
mical as his other utterances.
Scoring on an Error.
The professor had been summoned
an as expert witness in a case involv
ing the ownership of & tract of coa.'
land.
"I will ask you, professor,” Bald th«
attorney for the prosecution, “if th«
geological formation of this land cor
responds with the published data per
taining thereto?”
“It does, sir,” he answered.
“You have thoroughly read up th«
geology of the tract in question?”
“I have not.”
“You have not?”
“No. sir.”
“I ask the jury to notice that the
witness flatly contradicts himself
Now% sir, if you haven’t read up the
geology involved in this case, why dc
you pretend to know anything at all
about it?”
“Because, sir,” said the professor,
“in studying geological formations it ia
my invariable custom to read down."
“Silence in the courtroom!” thun
dered the judge.
Question of Preference in Ice.
Admiral Coghlan took the greatest
interest in the Roosevelt before her
departure to make possible the suc
cess of Peary’s north pole seeking ex
pedition. Looking over the craft, he
pronounced her to be perfect for her
purpose, and then could not avoid his
usual pleasantry. Turning to Peary as
they stood in the blazing sun forward
he remarked:
“Peary, it is up to you. I wish you
every success. You may prefer the
blue ice of the frozen arctics, but I
prefer to stay at home and listen to
the ice clinking in my glass.”
Some few seconds later Charles
Percy, the cook and steward, filled two
glasses with ice and other things. The
two glasses looked of the same color,
but Commander Peary swore by bis
hope of reaching the north pole that
his concoction was iced tea, while it
might be that the one for the admiral
had “a little, just a little, Dutch cour
age” in its composition.—New York
Times.
An Anecdote of Dumas.
Dumas pere, who was proud of the
prices he received for his work, was
once boasting of the fact.
"Beyond a doubt,” he remarked,
"I am the best paid of living men of
letters; I receive 30 sous a line.”
"Indeed, monsieur?” said a bystand
er, "I never worked for less than £5.
000 a line. What do you think of
that?”
“You are joking,” responded Dumas,
in irritation.
"Not at all.”
"For what do you receive such rates
per line?”
“For constructing railways," was the
answer.”—Harper’s Weekly.
Twelve Ounces to Pound.
One of the most recent discoveries
in connection with the British South
African war stores scandal is that the
army authorities bought “one pound”
tins of jam which weighed twelve
ounces. This discovery was made
when 1,350,816 surplus tins were sold
at the end of the war.
Vengeance Is Quick.
Prof. Sutterlin writes in the Frank
furter Zeitung that it is dangerous to
bring complaint against a Naples
coachman for cruelty to animals; he
knows of an Englishman who did so,
and was found dead next day in a nar
row street with a dagger wound in his
heart.
To Change Name of Ship.
It is stated that the name of the
Russian battleship Kniaz Potemkine,
an which the mutiny occurred, is to
be changed.
Fanning the Shah.
On his recent visit to Paris the
Shah of Persia was fanned, night and
lay by relays of perspiring attend
ants.