CHARLES NORRIS BUTLER.
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Copyright. 1903, by Charles Morris Butler.
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CHAPTER XXIV.
Lang Explores the Tunnel.
As a matter of precaution against
eavesdroppers, before entering into
the conversation between Dr. Hunt
ington and his daughter, Lang attended
to the locking up of the house, and sta
tioned Wilson in the front parlor as a
guard, while the trio adjourned to the
front room above. Dr. Huntington
took a seat in an easy chair, with
Pearl standing at his back; Louis
paced the length of the room several
times before speaking; at last he
stopped before the doctor's chair.
“Dr. Huntington,” said Louis, ‘‘when
I married your daughter I formed the
union as a means of protecting her
from harm. Now we find—that is,
both of us—that we really love one
another. I have sought this interview
to request you to consent to our mar
riage, in reality.”
“Is this your wish, Pearl?” asked
the doctor, and there was a tinge of
sadness in his voice.
“It is, papa,” Pearl answered, fondly
kissing her parent, and attempting to
hide her blushes by resting her head
on his shoulder.
me doctor tenderly stroked his
child’s head for a moment, gazing
into her face wistfully; then for a
little time buried his face in his hands,
sighing deeply. “You are taking an
advantage of me,” he at last managed
to say to Louis. “I did at first think
you a disinterested, honest man. and
intended to trust you with more than
my life—the honor of my child. You
feel, no doubt, the truth—I do not de
sire a union in fact. But you place
me in a position where I cannot re
fuse.”
“I understand you. Dr. Huntington,”
replied Louis. “You were willing, you
are willing, to use me—but you do not
think me worthy of filling the true
station of husband to your child.”
Louis had not meant to retort, but
for this reason she is entitled to my
confidence; if it were not for the love
I bear her and the respect I owe you
I should not recite what I am about
to say.
“My youth is not known to you. My
father was a respectable grocer on a
small scale, and my mother came from
a good family. When quite a young
man I was arrested on the charge of
having killed a New York tough by
the name of Monroe. After a year's
incarceration in the Tombs I was tried
for the crime and acquitted for lack
of evidence to convict. A strange in
cident in connection with this case
was the fact that while I felt I was
innocent of the killing I really did not
know whether I was so or not, but I
left no stone unturned to prove it one
way or the other. At last I succeeded
in wringing a confession from the lips
of the true murderer, and, to my mind,
cleared my name of the stain of blood.
I may have been a foolish youth in
my time, but I am plqased to be able
to state, now that so much hinges
upon it, that as far as I know I have
never broken a law of any country—
I am no more a criminal than you
are.
“The only thing you can have against
me is the fact that I paid my entrance
fee into this city with ten thousand
dollars stolen from the Madison bank,
and am here. Suffice it to say now, of
course, I have no way of proving it,
but the mere fact that I say it and the
suggestion that goes with it. should
convince you that it is so—this rob
bery only represents a scheme for get
ting me safely here. The money was
but a loan from Jim Denver, the de
tective. to bait the trap which would
cage all these desperate convicts in
the stronghold they had built for their
protection.
“I am a spy, and it is part of my
plan to break up this nest of murder
ers, thieves and desperadoes. I have
explained my actions to you, and I ex
Sounded the floor and walls of the cel
the almost blunt refusal cut him to i
the quick.
“Can you blame me?” more blandly
asked the doctor. “Your aid was the
choice of two evils—a possibility that
but one evil would exist.”
"No, I do net blame you,” acknowl
edged Lang. “I admit the circum
stance. It is not a pleasant thing for
a parent of your social standing to
contemplate the union of purity such
as your child possesses with a person
of my character. But looking at it
candidly and from all sides, can you
expect to do better? What are your
chances for ever leaving this place
alive? Besides, have I not truly won
her by risking my life to save her from
a worse fate? Under the existing state
of affairs she is looked upon as my
wife—without really being so. Do I
not show you that I am honorable, de
serving the sanction of the church to
make the marriage lawful? Ano’her
thing. Dr. Huntington. I have asked
your consent coupled with the state
ment that your daughter loves me—
this is an argument in my favor. Still,
if you wish to refuse, why do you not
do so? I did not demand; by a very
simple test you would prove whether
I asked for your consent through cour
tesy or not. Your daughter has trust
ed me far enough to believe that if
you refuse I will yet act the part of a
gentleman and not take undue advan
tage of any circumstance that may
have placed your destinies in my keep
ing.”
"Then I think,” said the doctor with
great deliberation, "that it is best you j
do not insist upon marriage with my j
daughter. You see I am candid with j
you.”
Pearl looked hopelessly at her lover, j
“Now, as my right, I would ask, Dr.
Huntington, what are your reasons j
for refusing me your daughter’s |
hand?” was the business-like question
of Lang.
“You understand my motives per
fectly, Lang," rejoined the doctor,
vainly trying to appear calm during
the trying ordeal. "Why force me to
say something which will distress us
both?”
“Is it of a physical nature?” asked
our hero, refusing to take the hint.
“No; you are physically a model of
manhood,” said the doctor, enthusiasti
cally.
“Is it on account of poverty? You
are not aware, perhaps, that I have a
home and several thousand dollars in
the bank?”
“Poverty does not enter into the
question.”
“No doubt, then, it is because you
consider me a criminal—a man with a
past?”
The doctor nodded yes.
“Very well, then,” replied Lang, not
seemingly abashed, “if it were not for
this fact, you think you could con
fer me a fit suitor for your child's
Band?”
t “I could,” assented the doctor.
'■Now we understand one another,”
-wieplied Lang, and he took at seat fac
Ping the doctor while he continued:
, “One of the reasons why I have sought
I this interview is to make a confidant (
| of yon. Your daughter has done me
the honor to admit that Bhe loves me; |
lar for a clew to the tunnel's entrance.
pect you to believe it. Why? Because
it should be evident to you that I am
just what I say 1 am. No one but a
person placed as I say I am placed
would have done as I have done.”
"I believe you.” exclaimed the doc
tor. “How blind I have been. This
accounts for your manhood and daring,
and as a stranger, your remarkable
knowledge of things concerning this
town. About the ‘haunted house,’ for
instance. Yes, I believe you.”
"If you believe me,” said Lang,
guardedly and firmly, "respect my si
lence, antagonize me if you will open
ly—a breath of suspicion wafted
against me, a hint that I am even an
honorable man, would mean my
death.”
“I will trust you with my daughter,”
said the doctor, leading Pearl to our
hero and placing her hands within
his grasp. "As I value her life and
happiness above all things, you can
rest assured that I will let nothing
escape me that will tend to do you or
her harm.”
“Well, doctor,” said Louts, after Im
printing a less upon the cheek of
Pearl, “to come to earth again, ■what
do you suppose our friend Dr. Schiller
had to propose to me to-night?”
“I have no idea, unless it was to
buy you off. now that it must be evi
dent to him that you are his equal in
strategy,” replied the doctor. "I know
that he has designs on my life and on
my daughter's happiness. I cannot
think that lie has given up his re
venge as vet. ”
“You are right!” exclaimed the
happy lover, stroking his wife’s hair,
“but I wouldn’t sell my chance. How
ever, as a mefins of drawing him out
and keeping my own plans in the
dark, I entered into a compact witn
him to marry your daughter according
to the rules of the church—and after
ward kill you.”
The doctor did not seem surprised,
nor appear to notice the repetition of
marriage in church. “What do you
intend to do?” was all he asked.
“I mean to turn it to yours and my
own advantage.” returned Louis. “Cir
cumstances could not have played bet
ter into my hands than to have had
Schiller approach me in the manner
he did. Are you willing to trust me
implicitly ?”
“I am,” the doctor replied.
“And leave your daughter's life and
happiness in my hands?”
“I am.”
“You do 3Dt ask why Schiller made
me these propositions?” said Louis.
“I know why,” exclaimed the doc
tor. “I am the only living heir to an
English estate of great value. If I die
it goes to my daughter as the only liv
ing representative of a once noble
house.”
“And the estate is worth?” queried
Louis.
“A million!” answered the doctor,
promptly.
After the doctor and Pearl had re
tired for the night, Lang set his wits
to work to invent some way of circum
venting Schiller. A plan had present
ed itself to the detective, by which it
would be possible to delude Schiller
Into the l>elief that Dr. Huntington
had been disposed of. It depended
wholly upon the truth of Golden's
statement that there was an entrance
to and an exit from the city through a
tunnel leading from the haunted house.
If the tunnel was still in existence,
Lang meant to allow Dr. Huntington'
to make his escape from tne city in
that way. furnishing him with a horse
and trusting that the doctor would be
able to find his way by the first station
into the hands of Johnson, who, Louis
felt, could be trusted to see the escip
ing man safely on his way over the
border and directed toward civiliza
tion. The plan was worth trying at
least.
With Lang, to think was to act. As
the first thing to be settled was to find
out about the tunnel, Lang took a can
dle and went down into the cellar to
get his bearings. Entrance was made
through a trap door cut in the floor of
the kitchen, and by the aid of a sta
tionary ladder Louis let himself down
into the hole which answered the pur
pose of a storeroom for bric-a-brac and
cast-off kitchen furniture. Louis
sounded the floor and walls of the
cellar for a clew to the tunnel’s en
trance, but for a long time without
success. When about to give up the
task as hopeless, a slight gust of wind
which had a tendency to blow out the
candle led him to the spot, which
proved to be a door carefully con
cealed. Proof of the entrance of the
tunnel being thus obtained, Louis post
poned further search until better pre
pared to meet any unexpected emer
gency which might crop up.
(To be continued.)
LIVES ON SEVEN CENTS A DAY.
Western Man Has Cost of Existence
Down to a Science.
Seven cents a day is all that A. J.
Seaman, a professional tax-title buyer
with residences in Denver and Omaha,
spends for food and drink, according
to his own statement. He is thought
to be worth at least $100,000, and is
known to have presented a certified
check for $50,000 on one occasion.
Despite his fortune he lives in the
most frugal manner, renting a small
room far out in the suburbs for which
he pays almost nothing.
“I have reduced the cost of living
to a science,” says Seaman. “Seven
cents a day is my limit, and what this
amount buys keeps me in excellent
health. This allows 2 cents for break
fast and supper, and 3 cents for a
hearty meal in the middle of the day.
For breakfast I have coffee and crack
ers; for dinner a bowl of soup with
bread, and at supper bread, butter
and tea. I clothe myself for $7 a year
and always have two complete out
fits.”
Seaman does not use the street cars
and walks to his suburban lodgings;
also for short distances through the
country, but does patronize the rail
roads for long journeys. His sole
business is buying the titles of prop
erty sold for taxes and disposing of
them at higher prices.
Gov. Long and His "Band.”
The Hon. John D. Long of Massa- I
chusetts tells with great glee of an
experience he had when he was gov- j
ernor. There was a public meeting
at one of the theaters, to which the
sovernor and his staff were invited.
The stafT put on their most gorgeous
uniforms. There were quite a num
ber of them, and they were resplend
ent in gold lace and cord.
When the party reached the theater
entrance they found so many people
there that somebody suggested they
should go around and enter by the
stage door.
They encountered a stolid stage
doorkeeper, who had been at his post
for years, and was used to the wiles
of people who want to get behind the
scenes.
“Can't get in here,” he said, gruffly.
“But,” said X*Ir. Long, “I afm the gov
ernor.”
The doorkeeper looked the governor
over carefully. Apparently he recog
nized him, for he said, “All right, gov
ernor, you can go in.”
Then he waved his hand at the
gaudy staff and announced: "The band
must go around the other way.”
J. Putnam Bradlee's Trousers.
Back in the sixties Goodrich & Dyer
were tailors in Joy’s building, where
the Rogers building now stands, and
the late J. Putnam Bradlee was one
of their patrons, says a writer in the
Boston Herald.
One day he ordered a pair of doe
skin trousers, and in due time they
were sent to his home.
The next day Mr. Bradlee called and
said to Mr. Dyer: “These trousers
are cut with the nap down on the front
and up on the back part.”
Mr. Dyer, with rare presence of
mind, replied: “That is the way we
cut them now. You brush down the
front and up the back, so it makes it
more convenient for you.”
Mr. Bradlee said: “I am glad to
know it,” and went out.
In the course of time he came in to
order another pair, and he said to Mr.
Dyer: “If it will not be any great
trouble to you. I prefer that nap
should run the same way front and
back.”
Why ‘'Mike” Kelley Laughed.
Baseball cranks will all remember
with pleasure the late “Mike” Kelley,
the star attraction of the famous Bos
tons, then the champions of the Na
tional league. The Bostons were play
ing in a western city, and had just re
turned to their hotel after the game,
and the members of the team were
separating and going to their rooms,
while Kelley headed for the bathroom
to take his regular “rub-down.”
A few minutes later one of the oth
er players on the team, while passing
down the corridor, heard Kelley’s
well-known laugh inside the bathroom,
and stopped at the door and asked
Kelley what the joke was.
Kelley replied: "This is the first
time I ever got out of the bath tub
without stepping on the soap.”
Closed Season for Snails.
The famous snail of Burgundy is so
greatly reduced in numbers that the
demand for it in the restaurants can
not be adequately supplied. The gen
eral council of the department of the
Cote d'Or has therefore asked the pre
fect to authorize a close time for
snails between April 15 and July 15.
Lavender Ball.
Stalks and flowers of the old-time
sweet herb, lavender, have been made
Into something very charming, by the
artistic woman of to-day. To do it,
she gathers the flowers on stalks
about ten inches long, drying them
carefully. Then, taking a bunch of
stalks an inch in diameter and press
ing them closely together, she turns
the flowers inward at the top, forming
a ball and weaving narrow green sat
in ribbon in and out between the stem
lets, a dainty basketlike top is formed.
The ends of ribbon are then wound
closely at intervals around the stems
until their ends are reached. A
length of ribbon at this point and one
at the flower end is used to suspend
the “stick,” and long loops of ribbon,
forming two tassels, are hung on these
suspending ribbons, still further beaut
ifying this fragrant lavender ball.
Pretty Cloth Waist.
Blouse of light weight cloth made
wnu ui
plaits and trimmed
with narrow bands
and motifs of em
broidery. The but
tons are of the ma
terial and the
chemisette of lace,
the standing collar
finished with a
turnover of velvet,
of which the girdle
is also made.
The full sleeves
ora fim'cKn/1 txt ? t Vi
' \ v cuffs of the mate
ial, bordered with the trimming,
which flare over lace ruffles.
Evening Gowns.
That satin is to assume much impor
tance in the winter frock scheme
seems beyond doubt. Satin models
are many, both in evening and in vis
iting gowns, and nothing lovelier is
shown than some of the satin evening
gowns in princesse or in Empire form.
The Empire lines are being accept
ed enthusiastically in coats and in
street or visiting costumes made with
coats, but whether the Empire gowns
for house and evening wear will find
cordial acceptance remains to be seen.
Some beautiful gowns of the kind have
been worn in Paris during the past
year, and it is said that several of the
g^eat dr< ssmakers intend to push the
Empire evening gown this winter, but
we shall see what we shall see. The
lines need very skilful making and
graceful wearing.
Meanwhile the princesse evening
gown is a thing established. It, too,
is successful only in skilful hands and
on a good figure, but, given this com
bination, the result is altogether
charming.—New York Sun.
Color Schemes for Little Ones.
Judging from late Parisian confec
tions for youngsters, the popular col
or schemes this fall show that youth
ful mixtures of black and white set off
by velvet collar and cuffs in bright
colors, and a peculiar shade of bluish
gray have taken precedence over the
many shades of brown worn last year.
Dark blue, always such a satisfactory
color, has a brilliant rather than a
dead hue in this season’s model coats.
Bright olive green is also a favorite,
particularly with collar and cuffs of
fur, and for the child who takes care
of her clothes, there is no color better
suited to youth and beauty than a
light shade of tan.
No Season at All.
This is the time of year above all
others for .weird clothes combinations.
The woman who owns a new fall suit
insists on wearing it even if the sun is
hotter than midsummer, while she
who has not yet arranged her fall out
fit clings to her white linen in spite
of the cool breezes that sweep the
town in the late afternoon. New fall
hats in the riotous wine reds, purples
and mulberry shades are worn with
lawn frocks of last July, and white
canvas shoes peep out from a new
plaid wool skirt in a shamefaced man
ner. Some women wear white linen
frocks under long ulsters of fall
weight and others sport their sum
mer coats of white duck or linen over
dark cloth skirts. Sartorially the sea
son is betwixt hay and grass, and the
American woman's reputation as the
best dressed in the world is having a
pretty close shave.
Hats to Be Smaller.
The coining hats are gradually grow
ing more and more elaborate, and the
quality of the material, whatever it
may be, whether velvet or lace, is be
coming more and more important.
This year the hats are unusually hand
some. though they are not so extreme
as they were last year in some par
ticulars. The big hats are not so big,
at all events they are not so exaggerat
ed as they were. In fact, the small
hats are still popular, although mil
liners are rebelling against them and
loading them down with plumes and
trimming to give the effect of large
hats.
Picture hats will no doubt continue
to be worn this year, though they are
certainly smaller than they have been.
udoir
nSidencea
Fashion declares we must array our
selves in stripes.
Satin seems to be especially dear
to the dressmaker's heart
White shoes will not be called in
until the first frost comes.
Observe the preponderance of the
chenille hat in the milliner’s window?
Black broadcloth is the dressiest
choice possible for the autumn tailor
made.
The blouse coat is out of it Not
one specimen appears among the first
fall suits.
Waistcoats of plain pique will be
worn with short coats until cold
weather makes them incongruous.
A couple of lace blouses in your
wardrobe will be certain to carry you
j through no end of difficulties.
Cooked meat simmered gently in a
good curry sauce is quite digestible,
and much more tasty than cold meat.
To make boiled potatoes white let
them lie (pared t in cold water for
two or three house previous to cook
ing.
It is wise to purchase towels rather
large. Laundries charge no more for
washing large articles than small ones
and large towels do not wear out so
rapidly.
A strong solution of vinegar and
water is efficacious in restoring the
color of black lace that has grown
rusty. Rinse in coffee, then iron
while damp with a piece of flannel
placed over it.
When Deciding on a Costume.
Among the new skirt models is one
which is on lines similar to the old
skirt of kilted sides and back joined
to an empiecement which was in one
with the front width. The new model
practically is the same skirt with a
front width modified by introducing
an inverted plait in the center of it.
To revert to a choice of models the
plan in view for procuring the fall
outfit should influence the style chos
en. She who is going to pick up a
ready made one of the shop costumes,
wanting it for long service and con
ventional wear, cannot do better than
to choose a circular skirt and bolero,
and if the price does not admit of
trimmings which get away from the
cheap and shoppy look, to replace
them with braids and guimps which
are a little better, and which are care
fully selected. The home costume is
also most likely to be successful when
made along these lines, while the
women who can afford a really good
tailor can give him full ecope in one
of the long redingotes. which have
plain strappings as their sole trim
mings, or in the newer little, basque
like coat, which is shorter and which
is often deeidely upon the cutaway or
der.
Outing Waist.
Blouse of heavy linen or flannel
with fronts draped
ana crossea, ana
ornamented with
straps of the mate
rial, fastened with
buttons.
The sleeves are
full at the top
plaited at the bot
tom and trimmed
with straps of the
material. The
large cravat and
the girdle are of
foulard.
Trimming for Evening Waists.
An excellent trimming seen on a
recently imported evening waist con
sisted of wee bows of soft silk so made
that the general effect was that of
fluffy butterflies. The bows are made
with the double loops and long ends
which suggest the moth and both
loops and ends were edged with the
narrowest of Valenciennes—not, of
course, the insertion. One of the bows
was poised at the collar of the blouse,
another at the line of the corsage and
another came just above the high gir
dle where it held in place a barbe of
exquisite lace. The butterflies were
not tightly sewed, but stitched airily
onto the goods so as to convey aD
icea of potential flight.
Princesse Wedding Gowns.
The princesse gown is always new
and always a favorite model for a wed
ding gown, and this season in particu
lar, when it is modish to have the
front of the bodice draped, it is far
more becoming than heretofore. No
trimming is necessary on either silk
or satin—that is, on the skirt, while a
lace yoke and dainty, cobwebby lace
ruffles on the sleeves are all-sufficient.
If a more elaborate effect is desired,
then an embroidered design is worked
out in silk and seed pearls; but some
how the plain, rather severe style, that
relies only upon the beauty of the ma
terial and the graceful draping, seems
smarter and more effective.
Frock of Green Linen.
The skirt is plaited and ornamented
at the top in front
witn Duttons, ine
blouse is also
plaited and orna
mented with but
tons, and has a
scalloped yoke or- ^
namented with
motifs of embroid
ery and bordered
with a ruffle of Val
enciennes lace.
The sleeves are /
finished just below t»
me eioows with
turn-over cuffs
edged with the
lace.
The girdle Is of
the material or of leather to match.
Toasted Cheese.
This is one of those dishes rarely
well prepared, but when rightly done
is very nice. Cut a slice of stale
bread about an inch thick (a day old),
pare oft the crust and toast it a light
brown, without making it hard; then
cut a slice of good fat, mellow cheese
(English, Glosier or Cheshire is the
best), a quarter of an inch in thick
ness, but not as large as the bread
by half an inch on each side, cut of!
the rind and lay it on the toast in a
cheese toaster; carefully watch it that
it does not burn and stir with a spoon
to prevent a pellicle or thin skin form
ing. Have ready some good mustard
cayenne and salt. This is a ’‘rare
bit.” It must be eaten as it is pre
pared.
Velvet Suit Still a Favorite,
The velvet suit promises to be as
much a favorite this year as last and
its new suppleness renders it extreme
ly desirable for autumn wear. A mod
el which is suited to stout and thin
alike has a coat of slightly blousing
bolero effect, entering a deep pointed
girdle of satin. At the center of the
back the seam of the bolero lengthens
over the girdle into a plaited postilion
tha reaches nearly halfway down the
skirt. Light-colored broadcloth en
broidered in French knots and sou
tache braid forms the vest and alsc
the wristband for a turnback cuff
Cordings of satin encircle the neck
and make a heading for the hem ol
the skirt.
Pretty Hats For Children.
No matter what its fate in the fash
ions of grown-ups, the large hat will
always remain the most artistic for
the child’s face. There is no lovelier
simple hat than a large white felt with
huge Alsatian bow of wide ribbon di
rectly across the front. One model
trimmed in this manner has the bow
held at the center by large braid rings,
and the hat is shaded to the face by a
narrow facing of velvet underneath
the brim. Ribbon streamers both in
velvet and silk are also seen on these
large hats at the back.
STREET COSTUMES FOR FALL.
The costume at the left Is of deep
velvet cloth. Two ruffles bordered
with silk braid and headed by sou
tache encircle the bottom of the skirt.
The bolero is trimmed with the bnild
and soutache, and has shoulder ruf
fles, also bordered with the braid.
The collar and wide girdle are «f vel
vet. The full sleeves are finished with
flare cuffs, bordered with the bnid.
The other costume is of biege and
white checked wool. The bell skirt is
trimmed at the bottom with straps of
. / ' . t&faiiL
the material attached by buttons. The
blouse is covered with a pelerine of
brown cloth, bordered with a band
and ruffle of the same, the former
fastened with buttons. The reveres
are trimmed with soutacbe, the upper
ones also ornamented with buttons
The turn-over collar is of brown vel
vet, bordered with a lace ruffle; the
girdle is also of brown velvet fastened
in front with a gold buckle. The
sleeves are full at the top, then fin
ished with deep tight cuffs, ornament
ed with buttons.
SUICIDE AN HONORABLE DEATH.
Strange Belief Among the Chukchees
of Siberia.
A Russian correspondent was talk
ing about Siberia.
“In that strange land,” he said, "the
strangest thing is the suicidal ten
dency of the Chukchees. Among the
Chrkchees, actually, suicide is one of
the most common forms of death.
“The Chukchees live in northeastern
Siberia. They are small and copper
colored. They dress in skins and rid©
reindeer. Tallow and raw kidney are
their chief de.icacies. In every Chuk
chee house hangs a death coat.
“A Chukchee doesn't kill himself by
his own hand. He appoints his near
est relative—his wife, son or daughter
—to do the deed. And the delegate
never rebels, never declines this sad
and horrible task.
“Innumerable are the causes of sui
cide—jealousy, unrequited love, an in
curable disease, melancholy, poverty
and so on.
“I knew a man who was prosperous
and apparently happy. Suddenly a de
sire for death seized him. 'In three
months,’ he said, ‘I will go home to
j my fathers.’ And he calmly settled
his affairs and at the appointed time
bade his wife to knot a cord about his
throat and his two sons to pull upon
this cord till he should be strangled.
He died, they told me, joking.
“The death coat which hangs in
every Chukchee house has a hood. It
is for use in suicide. The hood hides
the facial contortions of the dying.
“There are Chukchee families where
in suicide is hereditary, whertln it is
a point of honor for the sons to kill
themselves, a natural death being re
garded in such families as disgraceful
and scandalous, a sign of the most un
pardonable cowardice.
“The Chukchees, despite their sui
cidal tendency, are a happy and
healthy people, moral, truthful, brave
and temperate.”
DESKS OF FAMOUS AMERICANS.
Elaborate and Primitive Furniture on
Which Great Work Was Done.
The desk of Salmon P. Chase, a
plain piece of furniture made from
mahogany, is in one of the rooms of
the Treasury department at Wash
ington. There are many of these old
desks scattered about the country,
their chief claim to interest being
that once some well known man
leaned over them.
Alexander Hamilton’s traveling
desk, made of mahogany and measur
ing 12 by 16 inches and 10 inches
high,' is an interesting object. Upon
this desk was written much of his lit
erary work, and the worn green baize
with which it is lined attests to the
use to which it was put. There is a
drawer in one side, and several com
partments for pens and ink, while up
on the top is inlaid a silver plate with
the name “'Gen. Alexander Hamilton”
engraved upon it. Within the top is
a strip of parchment which says:
“Given by Mrs. Gen. Schuyler to her
daughter, Mrs. Gen. A. Hamilton.” No
doubt the convenient size was what
recommended it to the general.
Nathaniel Hawthorne's desk is pre
served at the CuFtom House, Salem,
Mass. A desk at which he wrote
some of his inimitable romances was
just a board standing out from the
wall at an angle. This is still in the
tower room at Wayside, his home at
Concord, Mass. Victor Hugo had in
his Guernsey house a study built al
most entirely of glass and perched
upon the roof. Like Hawthorne, he,
too, stood at his writing, and h}s desk
was a mere shelf fastened by hinges
to the wall.—The Delineator.
Goddess of Smallpox.
“They worship smallpox In western
Hindoostan,” said the missionary.
His audience gave a gasp of horror.
“But don’t misunderstand me. don’t
get a wrong impression,” he resumed.
“I don’t mean to say that they love
smallpox and desire it. On the con
trary, they loathe and fear it Hence
their worship, a worship bom of hate
and terror.
“They have a goddess of smallpox.
She has a cruel face, two mouths, four
red hands. They pray to her regular
ly. Fresh flowers are always lying at
her feet A special priest tends her
shrine.
"And much time and money are
wasted on this goddess that might bet
ter be devoted to the purchase and
application of some good, pure vac
cine virus."—Chicago Chronicle.
The Deserted House.
Life and Thought have gone away
Side by side.
Leaving door and windows wide;
Careless tenants they!
All wittiln is dark as night':
In the windows is no light;
And no murmur at the door.
So frequent on its hinge before.
Close the door, the shutters close.
Or through the windows we shall see
The nakedness and vacancy
Of the dark deserted house.
Come sway, no more of mirth
Is here, or merry-making sound
The house was builded of the earth.
And shall fall again,to ground.
Come uway: fo- Life and Thought
Here no longer dwel.;
But .‘in a city glorious—
A great and distant city—have bought
A mansion incorruptible.
Would they could have stayed with usl
—Tennyson.
Paris Underground Railway.
After the underground railway lines
of Paris have been completed the next
great piece of municipal work will be
the removal of the fortifications and
great dry moat around the city, which
works lost all military value many
years ago. The space thus secured
will be sold for building lots.
Marries Fourteenth Wife.
Philip Black, an aged Western pio
neer, who for forty years has lived
among Oklahoma Indians, was mar
ried at El Reno to Miss Euplaha Co
mer, of Watonga, his fourteenth wile.
Several of Black's former wives were
Indians.—Milwaukee Wisconsin.
Storm Cloud Injures Actors.
The head stage carpenter at the
Royal Opera House, Vienna, has been
discharged because, during an exciting
storm scene, he let a heavy thunder
cloud fall on two actors, severely .a
jurlng them.
Greater London Houses.
Greater London contained 924,143
habited houses In 190L
