The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917, December 14, 1905, Image 3

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

<m FlfflPi hr® PfULIUKlDFJ
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
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
None too soon was Lang furnished
with fresh stock. Down the road
could be seen a band of mounted men
“Farmer!” shouted Louis, as he
mounted his seat, and throwing him
a handful of coin, “cut across into
yonder field and hide your money!
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
want you to drive right straight ahead,
all night, if necessary, until you come
to a farm house or a railroad track!
Either 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
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.)
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”
“How would your friend like Vera
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
“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
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!”—
Russell Sage Tells How He Escaped
Unprofitable Lawsuit.
Russell Sage has a horror of law
A clerk of Mr. Sage's said the other
“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
“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
“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
“This is indeed realism!”
What is she representing.
Why, a Sicilian peasant girl.—Puck
No Expenses.
”1 wish I were a night watchman.”
“I could sleep all day and save my
' oard and work all night and save nr
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
Rumor says that “The Press Agent,”
in which Messrs. Shubert are to star
Peter Dailey is “The Filibuster” rejuv
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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.
‘‘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.”
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.
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
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.
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.
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.’ ”
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
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
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
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 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
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
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
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.