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CHAPTER XI.—Continued.
Dick loses his breath, he iB so
amazed to see the New York girl
here. What has brought her? He
jees that she is wrapped in a heavy
cloak and has doubtless worn a veil
over her face.
“Why have you come here, Miss
Westerley?" he asks, somewhat
shocked to see her.
“To save you,” she replies in some
confusion.
"What? You knew I was in dan
ger—you have been warned of this
Are?”
She nods her head eagerly.
“Yes, she came to the hotel almost
lrantic with apprehension, and begged
me to warn you. The boarding house
was unknown to her.”
“You mean Juanita Lopez?” he
cries.
"Yes, the beautiful Mexican girl.
She overheard the plotters, and learn
ed enough to know what they meant
to do in order to seek revenge, but
could not find out the location. As a
last resort she came to me, and I hur
Tied as fast as I could, but I greatly
feared I came too late. How did you
escape, Mr. Denver?”
"I was not In the house at all—
but poor Bob, I fear the worst for
him.”
While speaking, Dick calls to mind
the words of the man who was with
Senor Barcelona at the time they at
tacked him on the street, and they
seem doubly significant now in the
new light of things.
"Think, monsieur, it will be for
nothing—we have taken all the risk
for nothing.”
He undoubtedly meant the lncen
iv-saarcsmaj
roof know they appreciate his actions
and can admire bravery no matter by
whom shown—Frenchman, American,
Turk, or Arab.
“Look! he seems loth to go. There
is some one at the window below!
On my life, I believe it is a young girl!
Heaven help her, she is lost!" and in
her excitement Miss Pauline clings
closer to the man at her side.
"Not quite yet. Colonel Bob sees
her. It is that sight which holds him.
What would he do?”
"He has something in his hands.”
"Yes, yes. a colled rope; there, he
drops it over, it hangs in front of the
window, he motions to her to put her
toot in the loop.”
“And she is too dazed with fear
even to see the rope. Poor thing,
death will claim her,” says Pauline,
every nerve strained under the ten
sion. i
“Not yet, not yet! See that my
friend of mine! How proud I am to
call him my comrade! He is already
over the edge of the roof. Strong
hands hold the rope above to pull
them up; but the flames are terribly
close, and I’m afraid Bob has gone be
yond his depth this time. There, he
is down at the window. Good heav
ens! he plunges mside to get a blan
ket with which to enwrap the girl.
There, he has done it! Will they be
saved or lost?”
Bob, holding the terrified girl with
one arm, fastens his foot in the loop,
grasps the rope, and then gives a
war-whoop that is heard like the re
port of a rifle above the clamor of
flames and engines.
"Hoist away!”
Those above have been taking
glimpses at him—they now set to
work to draw the double burden up.
Danger menaces Bob on all sides. The
rope is slender, and, subjected to a
double strain, may break. Again, one
tongue of flame is likely to cut it in
VTJ5
diary fire; the passing in review of
Barcelona and his lieutenants has an
easy explanation now.
“Listen! what are they shouting?”
exclaims Miss Pauline in some ex
citement.
Dick is already thrilled by the
thought that this magnificent crea
ture, the woman he has already learn
ed to love, has taken this dangerous
midnight trip to save his life.
Her words arouse him; he remem
bers that he has no business now to
be thinking of himself when human
lives are in peril. Perhaps he might
be instrumental in saving some one,
though he dislikes leaving Miss Pau
line alone in the crowd. Now he
catches the cries. All heads are bent
back, and every eye seems to be
watching something that is going on
above—something that commands the
admiration of these Parisians, who
have a quick eye for bravery.
“The brave American!” is what
they exclaim, and Dick is also thrilled
when his eyes take In the situation
above.
Through the nre ana smoke ne sees
a man on the flat roof of the burning
house. Some one is perhaps sitting
on his legs, for at least half his body
hangs over the coping, and in this
way he can reach the window of the
upper hall, where a number of
wretched people have clustered, as
though there can be safety in thus
coming together. In % this man Dick
recognizes Colonel Bob. The present
Sheriff of Secora county was once a
Cincinnati fireman attached to the
famous Gifts, and thus it happens he
knows many of the tricks of the
trade.
Though not a large man, he has
the power of a Samson in his arms
and back. A pair of arms are out
stretched to the daring rescuer, he
clutches them above the elbows, and
lifts the woman up until some one
else on the roof can catch hold, when
she disappears over the coping and
the crowd below gives a subdued
cheer.
One has been saved, but there are
others left. Already has Colonel Bob
taken hold of a second, and with a
tremendous pull raises her as he did
the other, while the admiring crowd,
with the deep veneration for bravery
that distinguishes Frenchmen the
world over, cheer madly.
Though he sees the flames rushing
nearer, the man from New Mexico
will not give up his task. When they
reach the roof they are passed over
to the adjoining house, and in this
way finally arrive at the ground.
“Good for Bob!” says Dick, lost in
admiration for his comrade, to whcm
so many owe their lives, and Miss
Pauline echoes his words, for she can
appreciate bravery, no matter by
whom shown.
"I only wish Dora were here to
see him,” the girl from New Tork
says, and Dick smiles because he
knows it does not need such a spec
tacle to make Dora adore his friend.
“There goes the last one, seven in all!
Nobly done, old fellow! Now save
yourself!” cries Dick, hoping the oth
er may hear, but this is rendered im
possible, for the crowd sets up a deaf
ening clamor that rises above the roar
of the flames, and makes the welkin
rine. a cheer to let the hero on the
two. They are far from being safe
yet.
Now they are at the coping—hands
are seen to stretch out; they take the
girl from the clasp of the nearly ex
hausted American.
Somehow his clutch upon the rope
is lost, and he falls over backward.
Dick gives a shout; a mighty shud
der convulses the crowd below. Then
comes a cheer. The loop has caught
about Bob's ankle; he dangles head
downward, forty feet and more above
the ground, and in this condition is
drawn up over the edge of the roof.
Again the crowd shouts and laughs.
There do not seem to be any more
wretched human beings in danger of
death. Let the Are have its own and
devour wood and furniture—it has
been cheated of its prey through the
cool daring of a man who knows not
the meaning of the word fear.
Dick turns to his companion, his
face, lately so pale, now flushed, and
his eyes sparkling.
"What do you think of that Miss
Pauline? Wasn’t it worth looking at?
Did you ever see such a brave fellow
in all your life? Heaven bless Bob
Harlan.”
"I am proud to call him my friend,”
she replies. •
“And you came here at dead of
night to warn me of this danger?” he
continues, holding her gaze with the
magnetism of his own.
“What else could I do? I knew
where you were to be found, though it
would have been too late had all de
pended on me."
"Nevertheless, it is the motive we
remember in a case like this. Bob
would have been just as much a hero
had he failed to rescue a single one
of those unfortunates, and lost his
own life in the attempt.”
"Yes I realize that; but let the
praise, if any there be, rest with the
daughter of Lopez. She overcame
many obstacles in doing what she
did.”
“Heaven bless her for her noble
purpose,” he says, in earnest tones, as
though he means it.
“There comes the colonel; hear how
the people cheer him. A king never
had such an ovation. They wave their
hats, they shout themselves hoarse.
I would not be surprised to see them
take him upon their shoulders yet in
triumph."
“Bob will never allow that, he is too
modest by half. He sees us now—he
comes this way. By my soul, is it
Bob—he has undergone a change
since 1 saw him last, shorn in part of
his locks, and with his clothing half
torn or burned, but alive, thanl
Heaven for that.”
The sheriff of Secora county reaches
them—both hold out a hand, and Bob
blushes under the ardent glance of ad
miration which Pauline of New Yorl
bestows on him—blushes like a schoo'
boy when the belle of the vlllag>
deigns to give him a smile of encour
agement.
‘‘Dora shall know of this, we will bf
sure to tell her,” says Miss Pauline.
Some heroes would have begged he’
not to breathe a word of it to any one
but Bob is quite human he knows fur
well *hat he has more than done hi
duty in risking his life for the sak
of others, and it will be a pleasure t'
have Dora know, so he remains quiet
"Let us go to the hotel, we can do
no good here, and the crowd is dense.
1 suppose we’ll have to get a new out
fit in the morning, Bob,” says Dick.
“Why?” demands the other.
"Because all our effects are help
ing to keep yonder lire burning—my
pictures, note-books, and a good many
mementoes I valued.”
“The duse they are—begging your
pardon. Miss Pauline. That may have
been stolen, but not burned, that's
dead certain.”
“How do you know, Bob?”
"Because I lowered them from the
window with a rope and saw our
neighbor across the way carry both
trunks into his house. Remain here a
few minutes, and I’ll see if they're
safe,” with which he bounds away
while Dick and the New York girl
watch the progress of the flames.
They do not say much, but both of
them are doing a considerable amount
of thinking. Dick, on his part, is se
cretly admiring the nerve of Miss
Pauline in hurrying alone to warn him
of danger just as much as he has ad
mired her good looks, while she at
the same time steals side glances at
het companion and is quite pleased
to believe he cares for her more than
with a mere friendly feeling.
At last Bob heaves in sight again—
the crowd recognizes him, and wher
ever he goes, enthusiastic cries arise,
"Bravo, Monsieur l’Americaine.”
They are together again, and head
at once for the Grand Continental,
whicfl, adjoining the garden of the
Tuileries, is not far away.
“Trunks are all right; gentleman
says he will keep them safe if not
burned out, and give them to no one
but myself in the morning.” remarks
Bob, at which his companion is
pleased.
They reach the hotel, and Dick, ex
plaining how they came to be home
less and trunkless at this strange
hour of the night, secures a room for
both.
“Step in and reassure Dora; the
poor girl may not credit my story oth
erwise,” says Miss Westerly, and Bob,
for one, is only too willing.
As they enter, Dora is seen flying
forward—Dora, wild-eyed and appre
hensive, with her front locks in curl
papers and a gown covering her re
markably pretty figure.
“Oh. Miss Pauline, I’ve been watch
ing, and the sky was so red. Don’t
tell me you were too late—that both
of them were burned in their beds! I
shall faint, I know it. Speak quickly
—who is this? Not my Bob, oh, no,
don’t tell me this is the man I ad
mired—this fright with the black face
and half his hair burned off! I shall
shriek if you come near me. Go away
now, there’s a good fellow. You
scared me, but I know you can’t be
my dear Bob.”
(To be Continued.)
Lesson in Patience.
There are two women in the wait
ing room at the railway station. One
of them is tall and thin and of the
appearance which is sometimes de
scribed as nervous, yet she sits with
folded hands, placidly gazing at noth
ing.
The other woman is plump and
pretty. By every evidence of feature
and build she should be joyous and
contentc-i, yet she is fidgeting
around; she cannot sit in one place
more than two minutes; she gets up
and walks to the door, and then to
the windows; she keeps looking
about incessantly and from time to
time she sighs anxiously.
“May I ask,” inquires the tall, thin
woman, “if there is any worry on
your mind?”
“Yes, there is.” responds the
plump, pretty woman. “I am waiting
for my husband.”
“But that should not worry you.
How long have you been waiting?”
“It’s-#let me see—what time is it?
It's forty minutes now.”
"Forty minutes? My dear woman!
I’ve been waiting for my husband for
forty years, but you see I am not
1000th as nervous as you.”—Seattle
Post-Intelligencer.
Joshua Sears’ Brown Bread.
In the early fifties, Capt. Gideon
Hallett, one of Cape Cod's seafaring
men, was the proprietor of an eating
house located at the head of Long
wharf, about where the custom house
now stands. In its primitive way it
afforded shelter and subsistence for
the hungry wayfarers and merchants
of those days, where they could par
take of a limited bill of fare, includ
ing h&ked beans and brown bread,
minced fish and doughnuts and cof
fee.
Joshua Sears, one of Boston’s old
time merchants, was one of Capt.
Hallett's patrons, and frequently
called for an order of baked beans,
which was accompanied with a lib
eral slice of brown bread. While
nartnklng of the beans it was Mr.
beats’ custom to call for additional
orders of brown bread, and one day
7apt. Hallett remarked: “Mr. Sears,
if you will pay for brown bread I
will give you the beans.”
Woman’s Heart.
Anxious mother—What’s the mat
ter. Arthur?
Adult son—I am desperately in love
with Clara Vere de Vere, and I am
afraid to risk my fate by proposing.
I fear she does not care for me.
• “I suppose she often speaks enthu
siastically of her girl friends when
talking to you.”
“Some of them.”
“Are the ones she praises living in
ur near the city.”
“No—o, come to think. Some of
’hem live out west, and the rest are on
\ five-year’s tour of Europe.”
“Did she ever refer to any girl you
ueet, or can meet, as being ‘sweet.’ or
”retty,’ or ‘lovely,’ or anything of that
sort?”
“No."
“She loves you.”—New York Week
ly.
Pertinent.
In a murder case tried before a cer
ain Judge, counsel for the defendant
urged:
“It is better than ninety and nine
uiltv persons escape than that one
'nnocent man should sufTer.”
In Ms charge to the jury the Judge
' Jrritted the soundness of the proposi
ion, but added:
“Gentlemen, I want you to under
hand that the ninety and nine have
, l>-eadv escaned.”
National League News.
The Pittsburg club has sold infield
er Otto Knabe to the Toledo club.
Pitcher Pittlnger, of the Phillies, is
coaching the Carlisle Indian team.
Pitch Wilhelm, late of Boston, has
signed with the Binghamton (Ala.)
club.
The Chicago club has about given
up all hope that Sebring will play
with them this season.
Brooklyn’s good pitcher, “Doc”
Scanlon, recently fractured an arm
by a fall in a hand ball game.
It is said that St. Louis will release
Shortstop McBride, who was secured
from Pittsburg in the Brain trade.
Ben Muckenfuss has resigned the
secretaryship of the St. Louis club,
after a connection of thirteen years.
President Pulliam has promulgated
the contracts of Walter Mueller, M.
Brown and Pat Moran with Chicago.
Jim Delehanty has sent thrills of joy
through Cincinanti by writing that he
Is delighted with his shift to Cincin
nati.
Outfielder Lumley, of Brooklyn, has
an offer to manage the Colorado
Springs club and would like his re
lease to accept it.
McGraw is said to have offered
Catcher Marshall and (2,500 for Grady
of St. Louis Browns, but afterward
withdrew the offer.
President Ebbetts. of Brooklyn, says
he is prepared to swap enough play
ers to make a complete team for just
one first-class pitcher.
The contracts of Phelps, Delehanty,
Overall, Chech, Harper, Ewing, Od
well, Lobert, Corcoran and Carr with
Cincinnati have been promulgated.
Pitcher Elmer Moffit, who was se
cured by Pittsburg from South Bend,
Ind., will be turned over to Columbus
In case he fails to make good with the
Pirates.
In St. Louis they think that Quillin.
secured from St. Joseph, has a good
chance to beat out Hoelskoetter for
the third base position on the Car
dinal team.
Third Basement Harry Wblverton.
unable to come to terms with Boston,
has signed with the outlaw Williams
Sioux City has signed Outflelde
Hugh Tate, who played in a few game,
with Washington last fall.
In addition to signing Marx Heusse
of Salt Lake City, the Omaha club ha
signed his brother, Ernest Heussei
a pitcher.
President Duncan of Sioux City sayt
Fred Weed will be at second base a.
sure as the fans will be glad to set
him there.
Infielder Tim Flood of Los Angele:
and Portland, booked for transfer ti
Denver, has jumped to the outlaw A1
toona club.
Toronto gave Outfielder Ronan ani.
Infielder Becker to secure Herman
Long, the veteran shortstop, late o.
Des Moines.
Fenlon, the hard-hitting outfielder
of Nebraska university, will be given
a chance in the outfield of the Omaha
team by Manager Rourke.
Fred Lucia of over, N. H., backstop
for the Denver team the past three
years, has signed with Manager Ham
ilton of the outlaw Harrisburg (Pa.)
team.
John Brennan, successor to Danny
Sheehan at the Sioux City club’s
third sack, batted an average of .312
and fielded .935 in eighty-five games
played last season.
Central League.
Dick Merryman has signed with
Springfield again.
If Catcher Shannon is not retained
by Indianapolis he will return to
Springfield.
Pearson, one of Dayton’s star twirl
ers, has quit the Central league team
to glass making.
Outfielder “Lefty” Geyer will play
with Grand Rapids this coming sea
son, having signed his contract.
Jack Hardy, who finished out the
season with Canton last year, will
probably be back with Bade Myers’
bunch next season.
Two clubs have sold pitchers—
South Bend sending Pitcher Moffit to
Pittsburg and Dayton Pitcher Ed.
Smith to St. Louis.
Pitcher Miller of the Wheeling
; champions says he will go to the
Christy Mathewson.
port (Pa.) club. Another crime laid to
Sebring's door.
Ben Bowcock, a New England sec
ond baseman, who had a trial with the
St. Louis Americans two years ago,
may be Fred Raymer’s successor at
second for Boston.
Frank L. Dickinson, a member ot
the University of Chicago baseball
squad, and last year considered one
of the best college pitchers in the
West, has been signed by the Chicago
club.
American League Notes.
Southpaw Pitcher “Do” Newton has
resigned with New York.
Billy Hamilton is of opinion that
Boston should not let Outfielder Fred
Clay get away.
The Cleveland club has retained
Claud Rossman for a thorough try
out at first base.
President Johnson has received
word that Jack Sheridan will surely
resume umpiring this season.
Harry Eells, the Kansas City pitch
ing recruit to the Cleveland staff, will
be the largest man on the club.
Catcher Branch Rickey of the
Browns is acting as coach of the Wes
leyan university team at Delaware, O.
It was not trufe, as reported, that
Boston had given Jesse Burkett his re
lease. Boston's claim on him will not
be waived.
According to a dispatcn rrom New
Haven, Billy Lush, who remained out
of the game last season, Is consider
ing joining Cleveland again.
The Detroit club has turned Pitchers
Cicotte Eubanks and Disch, Catcher
Christian, Outfielder Perry and Third
Baseman Beaver over to the Indian
apolis club.
The Bostons will hold on to Catch
er Graham, whom they purchased
from San Francisco. The illness of
Criger has caused a shortage of catch
ers on the team.
James F. Cook, the outfielder, se
cured by the St. Louis Browns from
the Pueblo club, was one of the best
players ever turned out by the Uni
versity of Illinois.
Frank Farrell or the New York
Highlanders has had no trouble sign
ing his old men, but the minor
leaguers whom he drafted have kept
him awake nights by their demands
Manager Griffith of New York has
announced that ten young players
drafted by the New York club have
been sold outright to minor league
clubs as follows: McCarthy and
Goode to Montreal, Montgomery and
Clark to Birmingham, Smith to Atlan
ta, Duggan to Nashville, Baker to To
ronto and Kissinger, McAllister and
Bonner to Buffalo.
Western League.
William L. Everitt has resigned as
manager of the Denver club.
Johnstown outlaw club unless he gets
an increase in salary.
Pitchers Cannon and Kennedy of
Wheeling have been traded to South
Bend for Pitcher SchafTer. There was
no money consideration.
Secretary Farrell has awarded to
Wheeling Pitcher William Thomas ol
the Youngstown Iron Works team and
Third Baseman Charles Cowan of
Waynesburg.
Secretary J. H. Farrell has award
ed Pitcher Billy Thames of last year’s
Youngstown team to Wheeling. Third
Baseman Owen, with Waynesburg
last season, has been awarded to
Wheeling.
American Association.
Catcher Bert Blue has finally signed
with Columbus.
Bill Friel was the first of the Co
lumbus 1905 players to turn in his
signed 1906 contract.
Outfielder Pickering has dug up for
the Columbus club a young rural
catcher named F. C. Floyd.
The Columbus club .lias traded Out
fielder Alonzo Davis to Minneapolis
for Outfieldes "Cy” Coulter.
Pitcher A. A. Mattern, tried out last
season by Manager Barrows, has been
signed by Manager Watkins.
The Louisville club believes it has
secured in Meyers, a Texas league
first baseman, a coming star.
Pat Flaherty, the pitcher whom
Pittsburg sold to Columbus, will train
at Hot Springs with the Pirates.
The Indianapolis club has released
Charlie Moran, the shortstop, to the
Rochester club of the Eastern league.
Jimmie Burke may be Louisville’s
third baseman next summer. Tebeau
is trying to get him from the Cardi
nals.
Catcher Fred Abbott, who was se
cured from the Philadelphia National
league club,'has signed to catch for
the Toledo club.
Three-1. League.
Louis Kuehn of Cleveland has been
signed for the Grand Rapids infield.
The Dubuque club has signed a
third catcher in the person of John
Tucker.
Under the mileage pooling system
adopted at the Chicago meeting the
mileage of all clubs will be equalized.
Manager Jack McConnell has signed
a Rock Island contract, thus lining
up all the managers in this league.
He was the last manager to sign.
The Comrade*.
Along the road to Sleep-for-Aye.
(That some call Never-Land), I met
Three hooded figures, all in gray.
And all In silence traveled they—
Each seemed the other to forget.
Along the road to Sleep-for-Aye!
Women or men, I cannot say,
Or shrouded ghosts on penance set—
Three hooded figures, all In gray.
But two rode dry-eyed all the way;
The third with tears his cheeks had
wet.
Along the road to Sleep-forAye.
I think the two were Love-in-May
And Love-till-Death—the third, Re
gret
Three hooded figures, all In gray.
They may not part. Bound by their debt
To sad mistake, they wander yet—
Three hooded figures clothed In gray.
Along the road to Sleep-for-Aye!
—Baltimore American.
Always Glad to Meet Comrades.
“Speaking of privates and major
generals,” said the Sergeant, “there
was the case of myself and Gen.
Thomas M. Anderson. The General
enlisted as a private in the Guthrie
Grays, or Sixth Ohio, in April, 1861. I
enlisted about the same time in Col.
Guthrie’s First Kentucky. Anderson
in less than a month was given a com
mission in the regular cavalry, later
was transferred to the regular in
fantry, came out of the war a captain,
was a colonel in 1898, was a major
general in the war of that year, and
was retired as a Brigadier General of
the regular army In 1901.
“I, on the other hand, remained
with my company and regiment to the
end of the civil war, carried a rifle
for nearly four years, and was muster
ed out a sergeant; went into business
at the close of the war and succeeded
only fairly well. Nearly forty years
after our muster in I met Gen. Ander
son at a reception here in Chicago
and was hesitating about speaking of
old times when the General took the
matter in his own hands, saying, ‘The
Colonel tells me that you were in the
old First Kentucky regiment. I re
member it very well, and because I
was in the Sixth Ohio I watched your
regiment through the war. Some of
your officers came to the regular ser
vice, and through them I kept up my
acquaintance. It warms my heart to
meet any of the old boys.’
“This was as unexpected as it was
gratifying, and I felt very much at
ease with my old acquaintance of the
Sixth Ohio. The General made refer
ence to his uncle, Gen. Robert Ander
son, by whose advice he went into the
regular service. He said he remem
bered just how the First Kentucky
looked when it was formed without
uniforms or arms to receive Major An
derson when he came West. He said
the Major was much touched when he
was told that hundreds of Ohio men
had enlisted in the Kentucky regi
ment in the belief that he was to
have personal command of the bri
gade. I don’t know how General An
derson would meet an enlisted man of
any one of his regiments in the regu
lar service, but I know that in meet
ing an enlisted man of the old volun
teer army he left nothing to be desir
ed.”—Chicago Inter Ocean.
Got Even with Brutal Officers.
“I have often wondered,” said the
major, "what became of the unreason
able and wantonly brutal officers of
the old volunteer army. I do not mean
the petulant, noisy, or swearing offi
cers who were good fighters, but the
martinets and coarse-grained men who
were gratuitously abusive, and uni
formly severe or merciless In the ad
ministration of punishment. The vol
unteers admired rather than disliked
a good disciplinarian, and they did not
resent the explosive language of a
hard fighter, but they swore vengeance
on the officers who took advantage
of shoulder straps to treat men in the
ranks contemptuously or brutally.
“There were not many officers of
this kind, but nearly every regiment
had one or more. Some were light
headed martinets, some were born
ruffians, and some were influenced by
inordinate vanity or petty resentment
to persecution of their own men. They
aped the regular officers in cultivat
ing aloofness, but they had nothing
of the regular officer’s soldierly qual
ity or his disposition to care for his
men. The regular punished severely
in the interest of discipline, whereas
the ruffian or the Incompetent in
shoulder straps punished in the spirit
of vengeance or resentment, and fail
ed utterly in discipline and in care of
his men. A few of these officers prob
ably were shot by their own men dur
ing the war, and most of them at the
close of the war, if repeated declara
tions of their own men meant any
thing, were under sentence of death.
“But I never heard of one of them
being shot after the close of the war
by a man who served under him.
Scores of them were beaten in fist
fights by men they had abused, and
several in my field of observation
found it advisable to leave their old
home neighborhoods and settle in dis
tant states, but not in a single case
was the oath of a private to kill his
captain or lieutenant carried out.
Those seeking revenge for humiliation
or Injury found other means of satis
fying that revenge. In one case an
unpopular officer sought admission to
the regular army some years after
the war. By that time one of his old
non-commissioned officers had been
elected to congress.
“He told his story to Garfield. But
ler and others, and the applicant was
ruled out. In another case an officer
who had been brutal toward the more
intelligent men in his company sought
a nomination lor sheriff and made an
actiye canvass. The president of the
convention was one of his old ser
geants. Several of his old privates
were delegates. He was mowed un
der in the interest of Private Jack,
and he knew why. In still another
case an officer given to abuse of his
men sought an appointment at the
hands of the governor. He met with
a rebuff that took him out of the
state.”—Chicago Inter Ocean.
All Knew and Loved “Aunt Lizzie."
President McKinley never came to
Chicago without paying a friendly call
upon "Aunt Llzzl<$,” (the late Lizzia
Aiken) as she was called. And to
Aunt Lizzie the martyred president
vas always plain “William.” Gen.
Grant, to whose army she was attach
ed during the greater part of the war,
also held her in high esteem, while
Gen. Sherman is said to have been the
first to address her by the name she
was afterward known almost univer
sally by—“Aunt Lizzie.” Mrs. Aiken
bore the distinction of being one of
the few women who were pensioned
directly by the government for their
work during the war. She was always
a welcome figure at G. A. R. reunions
and on Decoration day, and old sol
diers from all parts of the country
who happened to spend a day in Chi
cago always looked her up.
One of the recent incidents that are
related of her concerns a visit of one
of the soldiers to whom she had min
istered when he was wounded in one
of the battles of the war. He was
passing through Chicago and called
at her home. He was cordially greet
ed by name, and In the course of the
conversation mentioned the fact that
he had recently suffered a severe loss.
He said that the old homestead in
which he had lived had been burned,
and with it had perished the only pi©
ture he had of his brother, who had
been a soldier during the war. His
mother’s picture was also destroyed.
“Wait a minute,” said “Aunt Liz
zie.” She pulled out a long box where
she kept many -keepsakes, and the
soldier saw that it was filled with
thousands of pictures. She spread
open a huge pile of them, and, to the
soldier’s astonishment, produced not
only a photograph of his brother, but
one of himself, one of his mother, and
one of his father
For a moment her visitor was too
delighted to speak. “That is the first
time I ever knew a picture of my
father was in existence,” he said.
This is an illustration of the habit
ual thoughtfulness of the woman.
Leading members of the church all
united to pay their last respects tc
her on the occasion of her funeral
All speak in the highest terms of her
kindly nature, cheerful disposition and
charitable impulses. She was one of
the oldest citizens of Chicago.
Object to Monument to Wirz.
Much indignation has been express
ed by members of the G. A. R
throughout the country by the pro
posal of the Confederates at Atlanta
to erect a monument to the memory
of Capt. Henry Wirz, commander at
Andersonville Prison during the war,
and who was hanged by the Federa
authorities. In December, 1905, th*
members of Atlanta Camp, No. 159
United Confederate Veterans, passec
resolutions in which they say:
“Whereas, We have ever regardei
his (Wirz’s) execution by the frenziec
fanatics who were in control of the
Federal government at that time a.
an act of savage vindictiveness; and
“Whereas, We feel that the erectioi
of a monument to his memory will bt
a just tribute to a faithful, patriot!*
Confederate officer, an innocent vic:ln
of misrepresentation, perjury and
fiendish malignity; to a martyr wh<
suffered death in preference to bear
ing false testimony against Presiden
Jefferson Davis; such a monumen
will, for all ages to come, serva as i
fitting rebuke to such as would in tin
hour of triumph insult civilization bj
acts of cruelty.”
This is all very well for an ex part*
statement, but there is not an atom oi
truth in any of the assertions. Capt
Henry Wirz was not hanged for obey
ing any legitimate orders, nor wa»
there any attempt made to force hint
to give evidence against Jeff Davis
He was punished, as many other men
were punished, for committing acti
forbidden by the laws of war. Th*
evidence was abundant that he hac
transgressed the laws of war, and he
did not even plead in his defense thal
he was especially ordered to do as he
did. His acts were the offspring of
his own petty, brutal nature and
malignity. These were outside of
and in excess of, the general policy
of starvation and maltreatment foi
which Jefferson Davis was respon
sible, and which was proved beyond
doubt by the testimony of reliable
Confederate officers.
Appropriations Insufficient.
The superintendent of national cem
eteries are complaining that the ap
propriations for the care of those
beautiful spots have been reduced un
til it is now very difficult to keep
them in suitable repair. Unless more
money is provided, to be expended od
them, they will in two or three years
be in a very bad condition. This
should not be permitted. The propel
care of the national cemeteries is on*
of the most creditable things connect
ed with the government. No money
is better expended than that which
not only teaches lessons of patriot
ism and loyalty, but instructs the peo
ple generally in the Importance of re
membering and honoring fallen he
roes.
See Flaw in Resolution.
Representatives Rhodes of Missouri
has introduced a resolution in Con
gress to create a roll of volunteer gen
erals and provide for the retirement
of these with the customary pay of
officers of that rank on the retired list
A petition, said to be signed by 100
generals of volunteers, accompanied
the resolution. Just why Mr. Rhodes
drew the line at generals is difficult
for G. A. R. men to understand. In
their estimation a general is no more
entitled to be placed on the retired
list than a colonel, nor the colonel
than the major, and so on.—New York
Press.
Rare Coins on Exhibition.
A rare collection of coins is on ex
hibition at a store at Winooski, Vt.
It includes a large number of silver,
copper and bronze coins, some of
which date back to the sixteenth cen
tury. There are also, Roman coins,
which are said to have left the mint
In the fourth and fifth centuries.
