ft
-^-7^ y ITH ecru am! potatoes
f* ^L/ / America has fed the world.
T. * \ / The term "corn ' is com
Ti. ’ u.or.ir i.scd in the west*
' * ” ■ ra hcnUaptiere to mean
yQDK ‘maize." or Indian corn.
' ^ no. :i.< rather centric
c*pr. -si n under which all
gratr.* are included, ar
•rd :-g to English r.otnen
clatnr. Indian corn has
spread over the whole
earth til! cow it Is a sta
tor < • ; Aft a. tit it.any parts of Europe,
wad • > c A*.a, wb« e he orig nal Indians
'
wt • r.-- came If it has c**' displaced it has
•' i»-a*t i.pp’emejtted rice, 'lie great life-sup
port eg grc'.n. which from time imxentorial
hao brew grown in the far east; but Indian
corn at antipodal product, haring tome, as
Motor? ;«v *e» us. from the neighborhood of
the i.-'bmus of Tebuant.-pe - :a North America.
The ;o:«'o came or giaail) from South
A mere a if-..* t..-re it Is Dei * .*sary to pause a
moment to *»»•♦ 'hatwha'is real’y meant by
*h-e w rd potato .* the plant and tuber \ulgarly
called (fee Irtafc or wh.te pota « al hough it
lo *• mote reta on to the Emerald Isie
)z4Pf23srrv& jr’oX47'c>£jB—
zr gr.vz&tS /
iZHJttzevaa.
” '■ - - - ■ ■ . t~ - -■--I
seed, as he had noticed waat spienaia iruu |
tain plants were showing, and reasoned cor- j
rectly that the product must equal the parent.
Exactly what the tulser is, is another ques
tion. By some its production is ascribed to a
fungous iritation, although this is not proved
As has been said, not all the solanaceae have
tubers, nor are all tubers members of the fam
ily. Be the cause what It may, the tuber is not
a true root, but a leafless branch, usually be
low yet sometimes above the ground; the eyes
011 a tuber are leaf buds which in due time
lengthen into shoots and form stems. The
contents of a tuber are a reserve supply of
food, supporting the young growth until it
can put forth roots of its own.
The food supply in the potato, is shown by
aanlysis to-be about as follows:
Parts.
Starch, etc. 18-8
Nitrogenous matters . 2-*
Sugar. 2—
Fa.. ®-2
Salines . ®-‘
Water . ^5.0
Total .1000
although of course variations in these propor
tions. depending upon soil, climate and meth
ods of cultivation, are to be expected. It is
evident, therefore, that the potato is not a per
fect food, and that It lacks sufficient nitro
genous matter while having a superabun
dance of starch and sugar. That does not de- .
stroy its value nor its usefulness, by any i
means, nor its popularity, for next to In
dian corn and rice, the potato is the most wide
ly used vegetable in th? world.
Today no hopeful settler, after trecking into
a virgin wilderness, thinks his little garden
complete without the pretty patch of potatoes;
no domestic or public meal is served without
Us tuberous embellishment, and after master
ing the art of boiling eggs, the next step of
the young housewife is to learn how to prepare
potatoes.
—(3oafie II
^ i —HI
flfVwsfazpr
V*' JKSGOro
jsMjP&sr
potato with what is now knowu as
the sweet potato, the "batata," sam
ples of which surely came from
Virginia somewhat earlier than
this time. It is probable that Drake
gave potatoes to Raleigh. At any
rate, it is an accepted statement
that Sir Walter Raleigh was re
sponsible for their use in Ireland,
because he gave several to the
grandfather of Sir Robert bouth
well, who, to check the famine
spreading in that island after the
disastrous failure of the grain
crop, cultivated them at once
there, and popularized their use to
his eternal credit.
John Gerard, a celebrated Eng
lish botanist, grew them in Eng
land. following the example of Ra
leigh, wrho ordered his own garden
er. w'ith a utilitarian purpose, to
cultivate them along with other
vegetables. The story runs that
this man. whose curiosity was in
tensely aroused by the new plant
from America, watched its growth
carefully, and when the fruit
(sic) was ripe, gleefully plucked it
ti-»a hat the good peop'e there are very fond
■f M The re snara«-d " sweet" potato has no
richt whatever to the title That pleasant vege
tw-ficrs to lhe morning-glory family,
‘aotaoirally being known as Ipomoea batatas.
- agait. betray iag a fictitious relationship
to the -her family. because the batata is a
halite term for tbe real potato as well,
hears. :t - n.‘.‘My suspec’ed that this sweet
je 'alo :* the vegetable actually brought by
ftrake and Hask.i.s into England, where It
naaq evaded fo* *<*> years as the genuine
t»'Sth Aiaet • -an food of contemporary ru
mor I' must be -nd« r.- -ood. however, that
t^e ,* e* j utat© is Iikew se a native of Amer
ica. hot fta original home was probably the
West l~dies and Central America. At any
rate it grows In the tropics and subtropics
and find* Ms climatic limitations at about the
temperature and altitude at which the Irish
potato begins to thrire. The yam is another
app< on of the swee* potato, although
that. too. is aa error, for the yams—diosco
reae- belong to a group of climbing plants.
A t : t/er of varieties are found Throughout
u • tragi’-* and subtropic*. and they are cul
•.. a ed f both the East and the West Indies
0 be soot and tubers may resemble the po
tato. sett the tomato is related to it. but they
. i»t te i*. confounded with ’be far better
known vegetable, which alone Is entitled to the
name The commercial and dom- stic classifi
'-'-■•jo .s stranger, now-ever. than the scientific.
11 it ref ore no attempt should be made to
separate them in lhe popular mind.
The x.ibidds. or white, or Irish potato Is un
doubt. . ly Aaierirac all through. Its prehis
toric and abor-X nal habitat was the western
•topes of be southern continent, from the
ne^akborboed of Quito in Ecuador, or as some
clatm even from tha* of iiogota in Coiombia. to
the central rt-g oe of Chile
Ko’-attcaily. the potato is a solar.um oae of
tbe lwi diversified plants of tbe vegetable
kirgtom Something like 1.000 varieties hare
ben dxs-ribe*.. but. assuming that several of
these are not substantially accurate, there re
main at least t‘J*i whuh are sell known. It is
remarkable that only about 40 varieties have
pinnate leaves and predate tubers on tbe roots
beneath the ground, and that these special
v*neties are chl’-iy of American origin. All
these tuberous, pinnate leaved kinds of the
•ofat.tun are t early relatcu and very probably
have a cornua origia. This first habitat of
the potato has been laid by some students, quite
aa much for tbe sake of poetic harmony as for
1 stone enact nude, in Centra! America near
the home of the primitive maize, but in all
fain ess South America deserves and will hold
the honor.
The edible potato, frnm which all lhe Euro
peaa and American variations have been de
veloped was undoubtedly cultivated by even
the inhabitants of tbe seat coast of South
America who rm ifh-d the land before the ar
rival of the Incas When the Spanish conquer
era arrived there, they found one great source
of food supply tn this native vegetable. In
Peru, however, it mas not a coast product, for
the climate there seined unfavorable, and
what happened to gros on the lower levels
were small, insigntfirani and watery. Tbe
heat kind of potato grew a; an altitude of about
7.000 feet, back of lama, it vat small, round,
with a thm skin, and was yellowish inside
tpapa amuici). In southern Peru, not far
from ytoUrndo. but among the foggy regions
fJnce to September!, up among the rocky hills,
the potato has been found wild. *
Parsing farther along lhe coast Into Chile,
wrfaere tbe etlmato is quite temperate and con
o'duently is suitable, even near the coast, for
ouch vegetables, there is found that other form
from the stem ana tasiea
it. As he found this part
of the plant merely insipid,
he spat it out in disgust,
and complained to Sir Wal
ter that he had wasted so
much time upon the miser
able thing: "Is this. then,
your delicious fruit from
America?” The reply star
tled the gardener, for he
was told to drag up the of
fender by the roots, for
fear that the other plants
might be contaminated. On
doing so, however, he was
astonished to discover
among them a mass of ex
1 actly the same kind of tu
bers he had planted in the
spring "Cook them.” said
•£225: ^ jqps&z*
of the indigenous potato, the Magiia. which so at
tracted the attention of Darwin when he made
his famous voyage in the Beagle. As far
south, as the Chonos Archipelago (about 45
degrees south* this plant grows wild near the
sea. The potatoes from it resemble English po
tatoes. and have the same smell, but do not
stand cooking so well. Little effort seems to
have been made to develop the original tubers,
although they form a good part of the food
of the people, yet in this neighborhood the is
land of Chiloe alone has about 25.000 acres un
der cultivation, of the 123,000 acres devoted to
liotatoes in all Chile. That the Europeans
found potatoes in Quito and Bogota need not
be denied, but there is no strong reason for
supposing that it was more than the same
plant already mentioned, transported thither
before they came.
Quite another story is uncovered along the
coast of South America. There the potato is
considered a European vegetable and is culti
vated only by those whose experiences are
derived from the old world. No tradition con
nects the few remaining natives with a past in
which the potato flourished, and in the minor
instances in which the "wild potato" has been
found, experiment shows that it is Inedible and
perhaps even poisonous.
This Is the case in the "wild potato" of Par
aguay. Such a plant has for years been
known to exist in the basin of the River
Parana. It grows on the plains, budding in
March and April, and ripening during the win
ter months of May to August. The tubers are
about the size of a walnut and sometimes
larger, soft and watery, full of irritating so
lania Ithe active alkaloid of the potato), and
of a poor taste. They are not eaten nor are
they cultivated; the so-called edible potato Is
considered an imported vegetable, foreign to
native experience and Judgment, while the veg
etable that takes the place of potato in all na
tive dietary is the "mandioca," which has been
prepared as a food from time Immemorial by
the pre-Columbian inhabitants.
The food potato of commerce made its way.
therefore, from Us prehistoric home in the
Andes to North America and via Europe to the
eastern shores of South America.
Great credit belongs also to Sir Francis
Drake, who learned of the potato about 1578,
either in Peru itself or in some near-by is
land He took specimens back with him. stop
ping first in Virginia, where he helped to plant
them in 1585. In 1586 he arrived in England,
carrying potatoes among his treasures, and
thus the story arose that potatoes came from
North America. Closeiy allied to this error
that pther. which confused the South American
Sir Walter Raleigh, "and tnea give me >-■
opinion " At the first flavor of this strange
vegetable he was delighted, and ever after
wards gave particular attention to Increasing
his supply of the wonderful potato.
By such experiences the potato was spread
over Europe. In France It was a rare but
prized vegetable in 1616; in Germany it was
recognized in 1650. and from that time on. Eu
rope, as well as other parts of the world, grad
ually accepted it as an addition to the food
supply of all peoples. It is unwise to discuss
here the mooted point about the so-called in
digenous potato of Mexico and Arizona;
about the origin of the S. commersonii In
Uruguay and Argentina; for the settlement of
it cannot disturb the fact that the Solanum
tuberosum, the common potato of today, came
from the west coast of South America, and
that the natives of these regions must be
given credit of having recognized its food
value long before they were discovered by Eu
ropeans.
The widespread botanical order of the solan
aceae, to which our potato belongs, em
braces plants of little aparent similarity. There
are, as members of the great family, among
medicinal plants, for example, the hyoscyamus.
dulcamara, belladonna, and datura; among
food supplies are the thorn apple (a tree, in
this case), the artichoke, and the tomato; and
adding to man's enjoyment if not to his vital
sustenance, the capsicum or the chile of com
merce. and the American tobacco. Not many
of them have tubers, however, nnd of the tu
bers, the potato holds the prize for Its useful
ness in human economy. The tuber of the
plant we are interested In Is the common po
tato.
Now, the tuber Is a curious provision of na
ture which by propagation can be carried on
by means of the regular and normal plant ac
tivity of the seed above ground, and also by
anomalous stems, enlarged by the develop
ment, to an unusual degree, of cellular tissue,
which are below the ground. Potatoes have
seeds and fruit like any other member of the
botanic kingdom, but when left to themselves
it may happen that more energy is expended
in storing up food In the tubers, so that flow
ers and seeds are imperfect. Theoretically it
makes little difference which element—tuber
or seed—is used for perpetuation of the pota.o.
but practically so much encouragement has
been given to the tuber that the seed is habit
ually ignored. Incidentally It deserves men
tion that the popular Burbank potato, the
spread of which was one of the earliest demon
strations of the genius of the botanical wizard.
Luther Burbank, was propagated from the
The grand total of potato production for one
year amounts to about 5.500.000.000 bushels,
and this gigantic crop comes from every con
tinent'in the world. Over one-fourth of the
output is grown in Germany: not quite one
eighth from Russia; usually a little less even
than that, from Austria-Hungary; about one
ninth from France; about one-sixteenth from
Poland, and a slightly less quantity from (con
tiguous) United States.
In the United States, almost one-third of the
year's crop is grown in the North Atlantic
states, but the group of North Central state?
east of the Mississippi river runs a close sec
ond; of the other subdivisions, the Central
states west of the Mississippi are next in im
portance. and the far Western states are fourth.
This illustrates one fact about the potato;
it is very susceptible to climate and cultivation.
Left to nature, it is only a moderately pro
lific plant, and cannot thrive in a country too
hot or too cold, but has its habitat essentially
in the temperate zone: on the other hand, it
responds readily to good care, so that the
more It is nursed the better does it grow.
The few rules to follow in successful potato
growing can be learned by any farmer. First
the soil must be suitable, but this is not hard
to find. It must be light, so as to offer no
great resistance to the enlargement of the tu
bers: well supplied with organic matter, yet no
more than moist, and containing abundance of
natural fertilizing ingredients. Well drained
sandy loam Is excellent; clay should be avoid
ed. Crop rotation is advisable, as the potato
bears well after certain preceding crops, but
may wither if succeeding itself too regularly,
liberal manure Is necessary, but of the right
kind. The rows should be laid off as close to
gether as practicable without interfering with
horse cultivation, and generally speaking the
seed pieces should be dropped about 12 inches
apart in furrows made in the level field and
not on the ridges, yet deep enough—say four
inches—to afford ample cover to them. It must
be mentioned that in speaking of potatoes the
word “seed" means the tuber or portions cut
from it in which an “eye" has formed; the
botanical seed may be used, but no benefit is
derived from that method; care must be
taken, however, that the sprouts from the eye
are not injured, and it is best, therefore to use
eyes from which sprouts have not appeared.
The uses of the potato as a food have long
ago been vindicated. Nothing can dislodge it.
Not even the latest discovered dashen, a Jap
anese and Chinese claimant to tuberous popu
larity, will take its place, even though it
may be proved to possess more protein than
the South American predecessor. Whole books
have been written on the culinary art of cook
ing the potato. Roiled, baked, stewed, or
fried, it has been a garnishment to the more
aristocratic dishes of every feast since it was
discovered, and has supplied many a full meal
to the humble masses who do the world's
work. Nothing but a poem could tell its
praises, and a sonnet is the least tribute
through which our gratitude to Peru should be
expressed.
As a source of industrial alcohol, especially
that substance which is commercially known as
denatured alcohol, potatoes are being regarded
as of increasing value.
Next to food, however, the greatest value to
mankind of the American potato is a source
of starch. In this. too. it vies with corn. Po
tato starch Is every year proving its merit,
and whatever can provide starch, has a long
popularity aheed of itself. Starch is one of
the essentials of civilization. Its uses are pro
tean. the demand for It is unceasing, and for
both art and industry the supply must be con
stant. With such a varied field for Its activ
ity, therefore, no one should doubt that few
blessings to humanity can surpass that which
came to the world through the famous potato.
Risked Ship to Secure Aid
Mutineers Outwitted and Brought to
PwiefcatM Through Act of Quick
Witted Mata.
la bis article oa the Life savers of
the Good«)■ scads. Walter Wood, the
prrit«h a«a artier. tells of a case
where a Balmy was brought to a sud
4ea aad br the Bate of tbe reseel, wbo
dell berate!; tm periled bis ship la or
der to bring the life-savers to his aid.
“Once a ship was deliberately im
periled on the Goodwins for subtle rea
sons. She was bound from Hamburg,
and was off the English coast when
her crew mutinied, and murdered and
threw overboard the captain and his
son. The mate was spared because
he was essential to the navigation of
the vessel. He was ordered to make
for the North sea; but the heavy
weather forced him into the Downs.
Purposely he ran perilously near the
sands, knowing that instantly boatmen
would put off from shore. The muti
neers had no understanding of his mo
tive, nor did they realize that they
were doomed. From all points of the
shore the ever-watchful hovelers
launched their craft, striving to be
first to reach the ship. Most famous
of the vessels was a lugger which used
to be stationed at the south end of
Deal. Seventeen men sprang Into her
and sailed toward the wanderer, and
one of them was the first to get on
board and take charge. To him the
mate, in hurried, stealthy whispers,
told the story of the murder. The sor
did tidings quickly spread among the
hovelers. and the mutineers, realising
that they were trapped, implored the
Deal men to allow them to escape, of
fering everything they had for life and
liberty. They were still clamoring
when a boat's crew from a man-of-war
boarded the vessel and took the mur
' derers into custody. The ship of war
*
conveyed them to Germany, where
some were put to death and some were
sent to prison. The salvers, who had
scorned the efforts to suborn them,
took the vessel into Ramsgate harbor
and were paid $1,100 as salvage.”
Time Changes.
“Men are so contrary. In the days
of chivalry, a knight was always sigh
ing and begging for his lady’s glove.”
“What of it?"
“Just watch a man’s face these
days when he gets the mitten!”
Ghosts For Two
* * *
By JOHN PHILIP ORTH
:ore was Miss Kitty Vernon, visit
lixg her married sister at Keith Hal!,
fa cut in the country, and there was
Mr Jack St. Clair, stopping at his
brother's place, three miles from
Keith Hall, for the fall hunting and
shooting. Only three miles apart, and
Miss Kitty gaiioping over the high
ways on her pony, and Jack roaming
about on foot, and yet three long
weeks bad passed and the two had
not caught sight of each other.
There is much talk about magnetic
attraction, but the weather is some
times against it, or there is a range of
hills to carry the current off at a
tangent.
Jack St. Clair was a poor shot and a
worse fisherman. It is just such fel
lows that go sloshing around and
spoil the fun for others. When a
snipe has been shot at 40 or 50 times
without being even grazed he flies
away to Canada for a rest, and the
fish who has been permitted to eat
all the bait off a hook time after time
without being caught finally seeks
other 'waters where there is some
thing doing.
When Jack came home from his all
day excursions without so much as a
bird's tail-feather or the scale of a
fish his sister-in-law would say to
him:
“Why not give it up?"
“Why should I?"
“Give it up and spend your time
looking for a wife. You are twenty
five years old, fairly wealthy, and it's
time you settled down.”
“But I am looking. That's one good
thing about the country—you can look
for snipe, fish and a wife at the same
time. Xo lost hours. If you don't get
snipe you may get fish. If you don't
get fish you may meet a damsel in
distress and rescue her and marry
her ”
Miss Kitty Vernon was not much of
a horsewoman. When riding in the
city park her horse was used to the
paths and sights and cantered along
half asleep and as steady as a clock.
Her sister’s country pony would shy
at stumps, rabbits and geese, and
when meeting with a farmer carrying
Hbu/d &tar.d up arrftu fund /efa
eggs to the village he would stand up
on his hind legs and paw the air. Such
conduct had its embarrassing side.
And then, when she had been to the
village three times and galloped over
the highways so often the scenery lost
its appeal, she would return from a
ride looking anything but enthusiastic
and her sister would say:
"Why not give it up?"
“And do what?"
“Sit on the porch."
“And why that?”
“A young ni ,n may come along In
an auto any hour and bust a tire and
have to ask for tools to repair it.
Just such an event has brought about
scores of marriages.”
“Humph! It will be something
more romantic than a busted tire that
will interest me! In riding around
the country 1 may come across a young
man caught in a barbed-wire fence—
one about to hang himself for unre
quited love—one who has been driven
to the top of a haystack by a savage
bull and needs my help to get down.
I shall continue to go about until
something happens.”
Half-way between the village and
Keith Hail, making it a mile and a
half each way. was the old abandoned
Parsons house. There were six acres
of land around It grown up to bush
and weed, and the house itself had
gone to wreck. One thought of
spooks when viewing it. even by day
light. and it was strange that it was
not down on the list of haunted
houses. Miss Kitty Vernon had passed
It many a time, and Mr. Jack Sinclair
had spent half an hour investigating
the interior.
Fate sometimes gets a lazy streak
on, and then things move as slow as
molasses creeping across the kitchen
floor.. Young man and maiden had
somehow dodged each other for four
whole weeks when Fate woke up.
Ther_came a morning when the chick
ens and ducks said it was going to
rain. They beat the weather bureau
at that sort of business. Mr. Sinclair
decided not to go gunning and fish
ing but to try his hand at a toy wheel
barrow for his little niece, and Miss
Vernon decided to sit on the porch
with a rain-coat on and watch for the
automobilist.
Noon and no rain yet! The wheel
barrow wouldn't wheel. The autoist
—the only one that came along—was
an old curmudgeon who was in a
hurry to get somewhere, and he never
looked at the girl on the porch and
there was no explosion.
Two o’clock and no rain! Mr. Jack
yawned and swore, and Miss Kitty
yawned and didn’t swear.
Three o’clock—four o'clock! Same
overcast sky—same clucking hens and
quacking ducks, but the first drop of
rain had yet to fall.
"Hang it, but this is the very best
sort of snipe weather!” exclaimed
Mr. Jack as be shouldered his gun
and set out.
“I’ve got a letter to mall, and I’ll
canter to the village and back,” said
Miss Kitty as she ordered the man
to saddle the pony.
Fate was planning. A snipe or
some other bird—one is not over-par
ticular about the species—led Mr.
Jack a two-mile chase. It did so by
offering him about fifty fair shots, and
of course every one of them was a
miss. He had just aimed for his
fifty-first miss when a drop of rain
hit him on the nose and the long-de
ferred downfall began to get busy.
The old Parsons house was the near
est shelter, and he made for it.
The pony was galloped into the vil
lage and the letter mailed, and she
headed for home. Half a mile from
the Parsons house, and just as it be
gan to rain, the pony caught sight of
a log beside the road he had passed
a hundred times and shied at it Out
of the saddle went Miss Kitty, and
away for home galloped the pony. No
bones broken and no skulls fractured,
but no one can take a flop of the sort
without a few bumps and being muss
ed up more or less.
The rain was making porridge of
the dust when the unseated and very
angry maid started for the old
bouse.
Mr. Sinclair had reached the house
fifteen minutes ahead of the girl, and
had taken a seat on the rotting floor
of what had been the parlor. Five
minutes before her arrival he had
heard a queer sound upstairs, but sev
eral of the stair steps were gone and
he could not have investigated if he
had wished. He heard rather than
saw Miss Kitty timorously enter the
hall, and he could not make out what
w as going on.
A growling from upstairs—a patter
ing across the floor—a bumpety
bump! Ghosts for two! The real
thing and no discount!
Miss Kitty screamed out and fell
down the front steps. Mr. Sinclair
exclaimed. "The devil!” and also
made for out of doors! He saw some
thing flying towards the highway and
he up with his gun and fired. He
missed, of course, but there was a
scream and the something fell down,
and the huddle was under his feet
before he made out that it was a girl
in rain-wet and clinging garments.
"Oh. Mr. Ghost!” from the bundle.
"Who is it! What is it!”
“Sir, how dare you!”
“You hid there on purpose!”
“And you came on purpose!”
There was a moment’s silence, and
then both laughed heartily and even
in the pouring rain explanations were
entered into.
"But there was surely a ghost up
stairs.” protested the girl.
“And 1 will come here tomorrow
and rout it out.”
Hand in hand, through rain and
mud and darkness. Mr. Sinclair final
ly delivered his charge into her sis
ter’s care and then went his further
way.
“Now, then. Miss Kitty, you have
had an adventure!” accused her sis
ter.
“I have.”
“And I demand to—”
“Oh. you needn't I have been
bucked off by the pony, rolled in the
mud, rained on. visited a haunted
house, heard a ghost and met the man
I am to marry. That’s all!”
And next day, when Mr. Sinclair
visited tfco Parsons house he found
upstairs an old cat with her talt
caught in a crack in the floor, and he
blessed her and set her at liberty.
Bismark In a New Light
Reminiscence of French Surgeon
Proves That Great German States
man Had Tender Heart.
The French surgeon Czernlcke in
his reminiscences of the Franco-Prus
sian war tells a story that seems to
place Bismarck in a new and more
gentle light. He says: "Seated on some
straw and propped up against a pil
lar of the church of Rezonville was
one of our poor soldiers, a quiet young
man named Rossignol. A shell, strik
ing him like the lash of a whip, had
carried away both his eyes and the
bridge of his nose, leaving the front
of the skull bare. This fearful wound
was covered with a dressing. He lay
there calm, silent, and motionless, in
quiet resignation. Bismarck stopped
in front of him and asked me what
was his case. He seemed really touch
ed. There Is war for you. messieurs
the senators and deputies!' Then,
turning to one of his suite, he said:
i Please bring me some wine and a
glass.' He filled the glass to the brim,
took a sip, and then, gently tapping
the shoulder of the poor martyr, be
said: 'My friend, will you not drink
something?’ Rousing himself from the
deathlike stupor that was creeping
over him, the man assented. We then
saw Bismarck stoop and very softly
and slowly give the wounded soldier
the wine. Rising again, he drank
what was left in the glass, and said:
'What is your name, my boy, and
where do you come from?’ ‘Rossignol.
from Brittany.’ The coupt then took
his hand, and said: '» am Bismarck,
my comrade, and I am very proud to
have drunk out of the same glass aa a
brave man tike you,’ and stretching
his hand over the horribly mutilated
head, he seemed to give him a mute
benediction."
Modern Education.
Knlcker—Is Jones well educated T
Rocker—He can read a speedometer
and write a check.
