Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 14, 1905)
€ C <m FlfflPi hr® PfULIUKlDFJ UK CHARLES MORRIS BUTLER. ffl/f/sos' of "7/je jPertY/pv of fVfvrtCsf 7ene/ne/t/ 7f:3ge</i/?3'7/r/fa?J%c, Copyright, 1905, by Charles Morris Butler. o o vhapter XXIX—Continued. Bill Hawks appeared to notice Lang at about the same instant. “Go and tell my wife,” said Lang to the farmer, "that Bill Hawks and his gang are in the fair grounds. Tell her to drive due north along the side of the wall and drive as fast as she can.” The farmer seemed to understand perfectly and communicated Louis' words to Pearl. While Louis was talking to the farmer Lang saw Hawks calling his \ gang together. Lang d'd not attempt j to escape rashly and thus call down the gang upon his wagon, but so much i confidence did he have in Pearl that , he calmly waited for Hawks to show ' his hand, trusting that in the mean- j time Pearl would be enabled to carry ! out his instructions. r rom his position on horseback Lang very plainly saw his brave wife mount the seat of the Judy wagon and drive through the gate, turning the team in the direction she was told to do. Louis did not think so much of his treasure or his own life now as he did of the brave little woman he called wife, whom he had learned to love with all the ardor of his impul sive nature. Lang in giving his or der to Pearl, had a plan in view of escape. He saw way down in the north corner of the ground an open hole in the fence. It was his idea when Pearl got safely started to at tempt to make his escape through this opening. In the meantime Hawks drew nearer to Lang and his gang was seen to partly surround our hero. The detective was now almost in front of the low railing which formed the circle creating the race track proper. Lang turned his horse round very calmly as if to go toward the gate. A race was about to begin, and the country people were on the qui vive to see the start. Just as the gong sounded to start the races, Lang like a flash almost turned his horse Lang, “trying to escape from a gang of bandits. Will you sell me your team?” he asked of the man. “I will not sell!” said the man. Lang looked so desperate that the fa-mer was afraid of him. There was no time for banter. Louis thought he heard the sound of horses’ feet. Louis covered the man with his Winchester. “Pearl!” he cried, “take my revolver and cover this man while I change stock! I hear sounds of something somewhere—to be caught now would mean death!” And in a jiffy Louis was unhitching the farm er’s team. The traces of his own horse3 he cut, giving the lines to the farmer, and thus an exchange was made. None too soon was Lang furnished with fresh stock. Down the road could be seen a band of mounted men appearing. “Farmer!” shouted Louis, as he mounted his seat, and throwing him a handful of coin, “cut across into yonder field and hide your money! Good-bye!” Louis, having obtained fresh stock, again distanced his pursuers, but it could not last long. No houses ap peared in sight, and as evening drew near, our hero came to the conclu sion that something would have to be done to stop the chase. In the dis tance the sounds of pattering feet could be heard, though nothing could be seen, and Louis managed to keep out of sight until evening dropped her mantle over earth. “Pearl!” said Louis, “something must be done to check our pursuers. In this wagon I have over a million in wealth and something must be done to save it!” “What are you going to do?” Pearl demanded; for the first time she showed alarm for uis safety. “I am going to ambush the vil lains!” he said in a determined tone of voice. “And I am going to trust you to manage the wagon t one. I Louis Lang saw the cutlaws approacl ing. around as if upon a pivot and with a prick of his bowie forced the mad dened and startled animal to jump the railing and speed down the race track. For a moment the country people were too surprised to utter a sound. Louis’ horse was running neck and neck with the racers. It was not un til the outlaws under Bill Hawks had given chase, firing shot after shot at our hero, that they began to realize the situation. At first they thought it was some mad freak of a drunken cowboy, but seeing Louis turn in his saddle and fire at his pursuers, they came to the conclusion that the thirty men following were regulators chas ing a horsethief. ' A dozen times in going tne uisiauce i did Louis turn and send shot after shot into the ranks of his pursuers, and he managed to widen the distance between them every second. As he neared the opening in the fence, de spite the noise of firing and patter of feet, he could hear the noise of the rumbling of the wheels on the road way, and he knew that Pearl with the Judy wagon was at hand. He gave a hullo of warning to Pearl, and then drove his horse over the low fence and threw himself over the high wall. Another instant and Lang was upon the seat of his wag on, ready to take the reins in hand over the pair of noble horses he had bought but an hour before. Lang had scarcely mounted his seat when the heads of the foremost of his pursuers could be seen over the wall. In this skirmish Louis would have been foolish not to have shot to kill, and standing up on the seat, Louis emptied his Winchester into the ranks before starting his team flying down the road. - After placing a mile between him gnd the fair grounds and seeing no sign of foe in pursuit. Lang quieted his team down and allowed them to jog quietly along. An hour later mounted horsemen could be seen com ing down the road, then for fully three hours a terrific pace was kept up by his noble team, until the horses were ready to drop. But the convicts were now plainly visible. At this juncture a farmer hove in sight, driving a pair of splendid bays, spirited and fresh from grass. See ing Lang—coatless, hatless, his team foamy and sweaty, the farmer tried to get out of his way, but to Lang the sight of a fresh team was a godsend, and he meant to have the team at any eost. want you to drive right straight ahead, all night, if necessary, until you come to a farm house or a railroad track! Either buy.new stock or take passage to God’s country by rail!” he said, kissing her. Pearl knew that Lang had made up his mind, and knew that it was best for her to say little, so she kissed him tenderly good bye and drove off as requested. Lang got down from his seat and, Winchester on his arm, lay alongside the trail in the grass, hidden from view. Twenty minutes passed, the wagon was out of sight. The sound made by the wheels could hardly be heard; then Lang heard the sound made by tramping feet of horses. The moon came out from behind a cloud and made it quite light. Louis Lang saw the outlaws approaching. They were totally unaware of danger; they little thought one man would dare to ambush twenty. They did not waken to danger until shot after shot rang out upon the air, and they saw a single man standing in the roadway dealing out destruction right and left, and when they did realize, it was too late! There Were twenty all told, and they were riding five abreast. When Louis cast his Winchester from him as worthless and drew his revolvers, King Schiller and Bill Hawks had cashed in their last account, together with about ten others. Those that were left turned and fled like cow ards, little knowing that but one man confronted them! It did not take Lang long to cap ture a horse and mount him, follow ing rapidly after his wife. It took hours for him to catch up, but at last he did, because Mrs. Lang had slowed up her team, rather desiring to run the risk of herself being caught than to continue long in suspense as to Louis’ fate. After traveling all night a railroad crossing was reached, and, as luck would have it, now that danger was really over, the fugitives learned from a farmer that a station was only a few miles away, and were also fur nished with a team to drive over. From here news was telegraphed to Dr. Huntington about the safety of his daughter, and from here was gained the first news that Jim Denver was safe, but wounded. The money was placed in the care of the American Express company for forwarding, and it arrived safe at Chi cago before Lang did. Thus Lang’s ambition was fulfilled. He had dona something a little dif ferent from other men—and the fame and riches he sought were his. For a time Lang visited Dr. Huntington at his home, and before leaving for a tour of the world, Pearl and Louis’ marriage was sanctified and blessed by the assistance of a reputable min ister for fear that the marriage that they had contracted in the Convict City would not be considered holy. (The End.) GIVING VICE-CONSUL A CHANCE Easy for Appointee to Avoid Catching Yellow Fever. One morning in 1889 I went with Senator Allison to urge upon Secre tary Blaine the definite selection of a place in the consular service for a friend of mine who had long been un der promise of a consulship. We found the genial secretary in an un usually benevolent mood. He called for his official record of consulates, and turning at once to “Vera Cruz” asked: “How would your friend like Vera Cruz?” The inquiry was made in a tone and with a look which assured us that the inquirer's one desire was to send us on our way rejoicing. He smilingly continued: “One of the best harbors in the world — Mexico’s great seaport— charming old Mexican town, and only sixty miles away is Mount Orizaba, with the finest climate in the world! I know—I’ve been there. It’s simply delightful.” Senator Allison here broke in with: “My memory may be at fault, Mr Secretary, but haven’t I heard some thing recently about the prevalence of yellow fever in Vera Cruz?” The urbane secretary promptly re sponded with a twinkle of the eye, which told us something was coming. “I’ll be frank with you, senator. There is some yellow fever there dur ing the heated term, but the depart ment has provided against that by giving Vera Cruz a vice consul. Next spring, at the first approach of hot weather, your friend should flee as a bird to Orizaba and let his vice consul stay and take the yellow fever!”— Judge. ASCERTAINED MERITS OF CASE. Russell Sage Tells How He Escaped Unprofitable Lawsuit. Russell Sage has a horror of law suits. A clerk of Mr. Sage's said the other day: “I sought out the chief one morn ing in his office. , “ ‘You remember, sir,’ I said, ‘my complaint against my wife’s uncle?’ “ ‘Yes,’ he answered. “ ‘Well,’ said I, ‘the man is obdurate and I think of bringing suit against him. What do you advise?’ “Mr. Sage, always interested in the welfare of his employes, was silent a moment, frowning thoughtfully. Then he said: “ ‘Listen. When I was a clerk in Troy I had a case against a man that seemed quite as good as yours. I vis ited a prominent lawyer and I laid the whole matter before him in detail. When I was through he told me that he would be delighted to take the case —that it was a case that couldn’t lose. “ ‘It can’t lose,’ said I. “ ‘It can’t lose,’ he repeated. “ ‘I rose and took up my hat. I thanked the lawyer and told him that I wouldn’t bring suit, after all. And then I explained that it was my oppo nent’s side, and not my own, which I had laid before him. “‘Before bringing a lawsuit,’ Mr. Sage concluded, ‘it is a good plan first to lay your opponent’s case before your lawyer as if it were your own.’ ” Told by Mrs. Russell. Mrs. Henrietta Russell, who writes sensibly on education, says some of the current notions in regard to it are strikingly like those of Aunt Char lotte, an old negro woman of Alabama. Whenever a subject was under dis cussion in the family Charlotte would be sure to state her own superio method of proceeding in such matters, and no doubt ever assailed her that possibly she might not be right. On one occasion her mistress was talking about sending some of the children to school, and Charlotte, as usual, put in her oar. “Laws, missis,” said she, “what mel: you pay money for to sen’ de chile to school? I got one smart boy name Jonas, but I Tarns him myse’f.” “But, Aunt Charlotte,” said the lady, "how can you teach your child when you don’t know one letter from an other?” “How I teach him? I jis’ mek him tek de book an’ set down on de flo’, an den I say: ‘Jonas, you tek yo’ eye fum dat book, much less leggo him, an’ I skin you alive!”’ No Sailor in His Eyes. It was the bellboy in the Pequot House. New London, who asked Capt. De Witt Packard of the Arrow whether he had ever caught any whales, to which the man who steers the flyer replied that he had never shipped a whaler. "Was you ever shipwrecked?" per sisted the reader of “Harpoon Harry, the Boy Whaler.” “No,” replied Packard, as he noticed the growing look of disgust on his questioner’s face. “Never cast on a desert island? Never caught by cannibals? And never been bitten by a sea serpent?" These questions came quickly and also received negative answers. Then the boy turned sadly away with the re mark: “H’m! you ain’t no real sailor. You might as well have stayed on land..” True Realism. The great actress brings a dress over from Paris. It costs her $1,000. She has to have four maids to help her get into it. When she comes out on the stage the public at once exclaims in rap ture: “This is indeed realism!” What is she representing. Why, a Sicilian peasant girl.—Puck No Expenses. ”1 wish I were a night watchman.” “Why?” “I could sleep all day and save my ' oard and work all night and save nr lodeing.” Frederick Ranken’s Fate. Four weeks ago Fred Ranken, Regi nald De Koven, Lee Shubert, and sev eral other men stood In the office of the Hyperion theater, New Haven, waiting for the curtain to rise on the first act of “Happyland.” The play had been produced in New Ha ven the night before, and on the table lay the evening newspapers contain ing enthusiastic notices. Mr. Ran ken was reading them delightedly, and as he finished he remarked jok ingly to the crowd: “By Jove! If I could get such no tices as that once in New York I think I could die happy.” On the following Monday the Ran ken-De Koven opera was produced at the Lyric. Not one but nearly all of New York critics confirmed New Ha ven’s good opinion. The play scored. A week later Mr. Ranken died. Verdant Innocence. “One evening a country couple came to the theater where I was play ing and purchased two orchestra tickets,” writes Tim Murphy. “They came early, before the doors were open, at 7 o’clock. After the audience had arrived and entered and the crowd in the lobby had melted away, it was observed that the verdant cou ple was still there, apparently wait ing for some one. A little after 9 my manager, in passing through the lobby saw them, and asked why they did not go in. The man replied with embarrassment: ‘We’re waiting for some one to take our tickets.’ ” Personal Mention. William A. Brady is presenting Wil ton Lackaye in both “The Pit” and "Trilby” this season. Wright Lorimer in "The Shepherd King” is reported meeting great suc cess in the South and middle West. Charles Frohman will produce in the spring Henri Lavedan's play, “The Duel,” which made a sensation in Paris. Rumor says that “The Press Agent,” in which Messrs. Shubert are to star Peter Dailey is “The Filibuster” rejuv enated. Henrietta Crosman is soon to have a new play, but she and her manager, Maurice Campbell, are keeping quiet about it. Belasco and the Shuberts are nego tiating for Mozart Hall in St. Paul, with the idea of converting it into a playhouse. Paula Edwardes is soon to appear in her newest vehicle, a comic opera by Paulton and Robyns, entitled “Prin cess Beggar.” During the winter Francis Wilson will appear in New York in a new play. William Collier will also have a new comedy. reter t. uaiiey maae nis Dow as the star in a musical farce called I ‘The Press Agent” on Nov. 27, at Lew Fields’ theater. Miss Margaret Wycherley has been engaged by Henry B. Harris as lead ing woman in Bernard Shaw’s “Cashel Byron’s Profession.” Gertrude Coghlan is leading woman for Arnold Daly this season, playing Gloria Clandon in Bernard Shaw's "You Never Can Tell.” Fay Davis, now playing Ann in “Man and Superman,” will, in the spring, become a star in a comedy entitled “All-of-a-Sudden Peggy.” The American rights of “The Blue Moon,” the play now running at the Lyric theater, London, have been secured by the Shubert Brothers. Reginald De Koven is engaged on the score of his new light opera, “The Student King,” which Henry W. Sav- | age produces sometime in the spring. Guy Standing is one of the new comers to Nat C. Goodwin. Last year he was the leading man with Mrs. Patrick Campbell in “The Sorceress.” Eleanor Robson's success in Chi cago, in London, and in New York, in the character of “Merely Mary Ann,” has been the subject for commenda tion. Nance O’Neil has been declared the legal owner of the Brinley estate at Tyngsboro, bought by her several ■ ears ago, but in litigation for some time. Gerald Lawrence, the late Sir Hen ry Irving’s most dependable player, has been engaged by Klaw & Erlanger :_ssis ' ■■ t for their production of The Pnnce or India.” Joseph Adelman, formerly stage manager for Henry Miller and Elsie de Wolfe, is writing a new play based upon his experiences in Europe a few seasons ago. Reginald De Koven is busily engag ed upon the score of his new light opera, “The Student King,” which Henry W. Savage produces some time in the spring. Isabelle Urquhart has been added to the ranks of Arnold Daly’s company of Bernard Shaw players. She acts Mrs. Clandon, the “20th century” mother in “You Never Can Tell.” The New York reviewers were nearly unanimous in declaring that “The Marriage of William Ashe,” as played by Miss Grace George, was more like a funeral than a wedding. Robert Conness is to star in “Lieu tenant Dick, U. S. A.,” a comedy writ ten by Harry McCrea Webster. It is, in a measure, the result of the de mand for anything with a western flavor. Revivals of “The Taming of the Shrew” have been made on both side's of the Atlantic this season. Oscar Asche is the Petruchio in England, as E. H. Sothern is the Petruchio in America. John Findlay of Arnold Daly’s com pany made the big hit of the five months’ engagement of Bernard Shaw’s “You Never Can Tell” in New York, playing the philosophic, diplo matic waiter. Chrystal Horne, it Is said, is to play the leading role opposite H. B. Irving in “The Jury of Fate” at the Shaftes bury Theater, London. Miss Herne has been ill since her appearance as Vivie in “Mrs. Warren’s Profession.” David Belasco’s new play, written especially for "Blanche Bates, “The Girl of the Golden West,” has begun its auspicious career in New York at the Belasco. It will remain there, unless all signs fail, the entire sea son. Manager Henry w. savage s next production will be the new comfedy by Richard Harding Davis, called “The War Correspondent,” in which Raymond Hitchcock will be the star. Miss May Buckley, who of late has been playing with the Shepherd King Company, will be Mr. Hitchcock’s prin cipal support. A. E. Anson, the English actor, who came over at Clyde Fitch’s instigation to play the leading role in Viola Al len’s company this Season in the new Fitch play, “The Toast of the Town,” has returned to England, where he will be seen in a revival of “Othello” short ly. Robert Drouet has succeeded An son as Miss Allen’s leading man. Jack Warner, the creator of the character of Mr. Earnest Jay in the “Yankee Circus on Mars,” has fallen victim to too much stage realism. He has eaten so many peanuts that he has developed a well-defined case of jaun dice. At least there is no doubt about the jaundice, and the doctors declare that the ground pea is what did it. Three stars, Lawrence D’Orsay, Thomas Ross and Raymond Hitch cock, have failed to find successors for “The Earl of Pawtucket,” “Check ers,” and “The Yankee Consul," re spectively, and in consequence “The Embas^ Bali” and “Easy Dawson” have been buried, and “A Fair Ex change” is undergoing stringent medi cal treatment. Rehearsals begin next month for the production of “Alice-Sit-by-the-Fire,” the new play by J. M. Barrie, in which Charles Frohman will present Ethel Barrymore. To this will be added Mr. Barrie's one act play, "Pantaloon,” in which Lionel Barrymore will play the chief part, and in which Jack Barry more will also appear. Both of Miss Barrymore’s brothers will be asso ciated with her during this engage ment. A pretty compliment has been paid Margaret Anglin and David Warfield by Sarah Bernhardt. Since her ar rival in this country Bernhardt has requested that during her New York engagement special matinees be ar ranged by Miss Anglin and Mr. War field in order that the famous French actress may see what she has been in formed are performances by two of the best-known and most capable play ers on the American stage. William Collier has concluded hi3 London engagement, and with the members of his company has sailed for New York. Mr. Collier went abroad last May and first appeared in London in Richard Harding Davis’ farce, "The Dictator,” in which he scored immediately. Following this he has met with equal success in Au gustus Thomas’ play, “On the Quiet.” Arriving in New York Mr. Collier will play a four weeks’ engagement at the Criterion theatre before going on tour. He will return to New York later la the season in a new play. 'REAL TROUBLE WITH RUSSIA ‘‘Some days before our departure from Moscow for Nizhni Novgorod we bad booked tickets for places in a sleeping car,” writes a traveler. "There were two of us, and by book ing berths in time we noped not only to avoid trouble in obtaining places, but to insure a night’s rest in the ‘wagon-lit.’ We were en route for the famous and always unspeakably in teresting ‘Bolshaya Yarmaka,’ that great fair at Nizhni which is absolute ly without rival in the whole world of periodical commercial exhibitions. I had been cherishing some degree of 'apprehension as to what might hap pen at the ‘Nijegorodsky Voksal,’ or station of the line which runs by Vladimir to Nizhni Novgorod. My worst fears were realized. Many peo ple were going to Nizhni Novgorod. And I wondered how many might have booked for the first-class carriages, and whether many wrould make a rush to capture the berths in the ‘wagon lit.’ So I somewhat heavily tipped the most intelligent looking official I could find, showed him our two num bered tickets and engaged him to see that we were able to appropriate them. “Suddenly the doors of the waiting saloon were flung open and there was a wild stampede. A big squad of most respectable Russian passengers made a rush for the sleeping cars. If all the berths were not booked they would seek to occupy them, although only possessed of ordinary first-class tickets, and they might be allowed to do so by the expedient of a small bribe quietly administered to the guard. I have never seen a wilder scrimmage than the fight that ensued. The pas sengers with numbered tickets had booked up all the seats for the night’s journey. But our man had to shout, push, strike right and left, to hurl out two invaders who had stormed our places and to back hard against others who elbowed their way along the car riage corridors before the way was clear and we could reach the places to which we had a right. “ ‘What can be the matter with Rus sia? What can be the real cause of her troubles?’ These are questions which thousands of people are asking. The little incident I have described suggests the accurate answer. Abso lute carelessness as to administration is typical of the management of all public affairs. ‘Nichevo’ (no matter) is the word most constantly heard on native lips. Nobody cares.” WOES OF 'BLOCKADE 'RVflfitE'R Here is a tale of adventurous block ade running during the Russo-Japa nese war: In December of last year the steamer Carlisle, Capt. Jessen, 1,035 tons, belonging to Leith, Scot land, left Vladivostok with arms and ammunition worth over $4,500,000 on board, destined for Port Arthur. Be fore that port was reached, however, it had surrendered to the Japanese. Capt. Jessen altered his course while he had yet time and stood out to the open sea. All went well until the steamer was 300 miles to the east ward of Yokohama when the Carlisle lost all her propeller blades. The cap tain rigged up sails on the steamer’s stumpy masts, and navigated his ves sel 2,000 miles southward, ultimately dropping anchor in San Miguel bay, Caramines, in the Philippines, on Feb. 13. Japanese in the vicinity had heard of the vessel’s arrival and disguised as fishermen set out in fou • sampans to attack and if possible sink the ship. With the assistance of the customs of ficers on hoard the crew managed to beat off the repeated attack of the Japanese, but not before many shots had been exchanged. An American warship ultimately arrived on the scene and towed the Carlisle round to Manila, where she was interned by the American authorities. At Manila the Carlisle was provided with a new propeller, but watched by the Ameri can warships within the port and by a Japanese cruiser which kept con tinually appearing in the offing. The Carlisle one night disappeared from Manila at the time of the passing of Singapore by Admiral Rojestvensliy’s fleet. But again fortune frowned; the Carlisle could not find the Russian fleet, and after many days' fruitless search the captain had again to turn south. At the end of May the vessel steamed innocently into Saigon, where she is at the present moment with her valuable but dangerous car go on board. LITTLE MAJV'S LO/tG SILENCE A little man of 12 years, already a qualified practician in silence and obe dience, whose father owns a large rubber plantation in Central America, and who not long ago secured options on two plantations adjoining his own, went to New Orleans to raise the money to purchase them. In a short time his wife secured an option on a third plantation, which he very much desired, but which he had not been able to get before leav ing for New Orleans. With a wife’s caution, she was afraid to trust the option to the mails, so she sewed it carefully in the lining of her small son’s jacket, and sent him north by the next steamer. “Mind, you are not to talk to any body!” was her parting injunction. The boy obeyed her so literally that half the passengers thought him dumb. Several persons took a kindly interest in him, and tried to make the voyage pleasanter for him; but he re fused to make friends, and except for brief thanks, no word could be got out of him. As soon as the boat docked he found his way to the office of the broker where he knew his father made his headquarters. His father turned pale at the sight of him, and tremblingly asked if anything had happened at home. “No, father.” The father then asked, somewhat sternly, what had brought him there. The boy answered by shaking his head. “I can’t tell till we are alone,” he whispered. When his father took him into a private office, he shut the door and locked It. Taking off his coat ha showed his dazed father where to rip it—and the option was in safe hands. Then he spoke with a sigh of relief. “Mother told me not to talk with any body,” he said, “and I haven’t.” Of course his father was proud of him, but one hopes that the faithful little chap had a good time after that. —New Orleans Picayune. A/tECVOTES OF FAMO VS MEJSl There are some interesting anec dotes of the leading British literary lights of the middle nineteenth cen tury in a volume recently published in London, “Mrs. Brookfield and Her Circle.” On one occasion there was great emoarrassment at one of their gatherings. The majority of the par ty were anxious to hear Tennyson read “Maud," the first copy of which had just reached him; but it was known that Carlyle could not endure to hear any one reading aloud. What was to be done? A plot was laid to have the reading during the time of Carlyle’s morning walk; but for this he always demanded an appreciative companion. Mrs. Brookfield says; “Chairs had been arranged in a quiet sitting room; the visitors were taking their places. Alfred was ready. So was Carlyle—in the hall—waiting for a companion in his vralk, and evident ly determined not to stir without one. It was quite an anxious moment. At length Mr. Goldwin Smith generously stepped forward and joined the phil osopher and then Mr. Brookfield joined them both, while the rest of us re mained to listen with enthralled at tention to the new words of the poet.” Of Macaulay’s conversational meth od Mrs. Brookfield gives the following curious example: “I remember sit ting next him at dinner, at one “period of which I asked him if he admired Jane Austen’s works. He made no re ply until a lull in the conversation oc curred, when he announced, ‘Mrs. Brookfield has asked me if I admire Jane Austen’s novels, to which I re ply—’ and then entered into a lengthy dissertation, to which all listened but into which no one else dared intrude.” A Tennyson incident: “Mr. Moxon said that Alfred one day while trav eling said to him, ‘Moxcn, you have made me very unhappy by something you said to me at Lucerne,’ the unfor tunate speech having been: ‘Why Ten nyson, you will be as bald as Sped cing before long.’ ” G'RIZ'Z'Ly' B£A*R A MO/tVMEJtT A stone carving of a grizzly bear in the attitude of defending her cubs has been carved by Andrew Chester Thompson of Seattle, and will be im mediately shipped to Alaska to be placed over the grave of B. Shadesty, one of the most prominent Indians in the north when alive, says the Seattle Times. He died Dec. 17, 1903, leaving $600 to defray the cost of the monument. The big piece of stone carving, weighing 3,000 pounds, will be shipped from Seattle to Wrangel, and from that point will be carried about 150 miles overland to the home of the Bear family Indians. The Indians themselves will transport the grizzly on its overland journey according to their own primitive methods of trans portation. Mr. Thompson has been carving im ages for Alaska Indians for the last twenty five years, but this Is the largest monument he has shipped to Alaska carved from a single piece of marble. The stone carving provided for Shadesty is the first to be ordered in a defensive attitude. For the Black Bear tribe Mr. Thompson has carved several statues of bears, but they have all been on all fours. The Wolf tribe and others taking their name from wild animals have ordered carv ings, but the work done for Shadesty | is novel in its conception. It is customary among the Alaska i Indians to leave money to pay for j their own tombstone, and Shadesty saved for a lifetime to give himself a suitable piece for his g-ave. He was i wealthy enough, though, to leave his kinsmen considerable money. THE FATE OF SE/tffACHETUB The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming In purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea. When the blue wave rolls night on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when sum mer is green. That host with their banners at sunset were seen; Like the leaves of the forest when au tumn hath flown. That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast. And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; And the eyes of the sleepers waxed dead ly and chill. And their hearts hr/ o-ce heaved, and forever gre^ And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide. But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay whita on the turf. And cold as the spray of the rock-beat ing surf. And there lay the rider distorted and pale. With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail; And the tents were all silent, the ban ners alone. The lances unllfted, the trumpet un blown. And the widows of Ashur are loud In their wail; And the Idols are broken In the temple of Eaaly1 And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword. Hath melted like snow in the glance of of the Lo-d T o-d Byron.