Me r
EM * > KV * > . I ? A CANOE.
If fEhc maidcv Bat In n llcht cnnoo ,
| . ' i Afloat on a mountain lake ;
If And u nmd Idea Hhot wildly through
If. Tho hrnlii of liar lover ( who not thero too ) ,
, .Thnt he , In thnt Helf-Hnme light ennoo
t J A ntolcn kisH would take.
' Ziovt tho mnklcn wit there , unwaro
\ Of the plot thnt ho had hatched ;
And tluimountnin breezes played withhernair
And fanned her check and her brow bo fair ,
j > Ab bIio sat thoro quite unawnro.
! Of tho kins Boon to be snatched.
Then tho lover awaited a real pood chanco ,
] , To capture the lonped-for kins.
j 'When , watchlnR the wiraplingwavelotB dance ,
33ho turned her head with a quick , Bhyglance ,
iAnd , leaning back , h1w gavo nira a chanco
That was really too good to miaa.
' Bo ho bent to moot her , and tried to Bteal
> Tho kiBH that ho burned to got.
/ > But he bent bo quick , in 1ib ! nrdent zeal ,
'That tho craft upset like a whirling wheel ,
And ho tniBBod the ki s that ho tried to Bteal ,
And thoy both got vory wot.
titan !
SUeingan Account or tho Strange Mon
ster a Botanist Created.
: had never seen her handwriting
before ; and yet , tho instant the letter
-Wis brought to me , I knew it was
'from Paula , whom I had not seen
< or three long years , in fact , notsinco
< 3he had become the wife of Frederick
Wertheim tho brilliant botanist
whose researches had won tho plau
dits of tho whole scientific world.
QPaula and I had been friends from
• Childhood , and I had naturally ex-
jpected to see her handwriting embell"
itshed with all manner of capricious
Kittle twists and curls ; but I knew it
twos from her as soon as I saw my
tnamo on tho envelope , despite the
( hurried , nervous letters , and I felt in
stinctively that something was
* amiss.
I broke the seal hurriedly the
-eheet bore but two words "come" and
tfiername , "Paula. "
Such a request from her was to me
n order. I did not hesitate an
• instant. Paula and her husband
Hived on a large estate about six
sniles distant from the city. But my
strolls had never led me in that direc
tion ; it would have brought up
dreams of my childhood that were
Ubest forgotten but there , it does no
good to sentimentalize in this fashion.
Et was early autumn , and I had to
sirge my horse through a heavy fog.
Thechateau in which Paula lived was
ituated at the extremity of an alley
of chestnut trees whose boughs inter
faced to form a long , dark tunnel. As
II entered this alley , it seemed to me
nfchatfarin the black circle , which
Hooked like the cave of some terrible
flieast , I could see the vague features
- of a horrid , grinning mask , shadowy
i-as mist , which menanced me and
• dared me to come on. The sinister
Impression of this hallucination was
• so strong that I drew rein and half
stopped , leaning forward on my
tiorse's neck to peer into the profound
darkness. Then , driving the spurs
deep in my horse's flanks , I
. dashed into the unknown.
* EE < rct8 almost thrown by the abj
* ruptness with which the horse
stopped , for just before me was an
1 ilron gate , surmounted by a curious-
vvty carved head , a masterpiece of tha -
• 'Iron-worker's skill , which accounted 1
5 rfor my 6trange illusion of the mo- ]
jaaentbefore.And behind the twisted j
V'bareKjfthe gate stood Paula await-
i Irrgune , her rosy baby in her arms.
EBvenfe the darkness I could see that'
rihe was very pale and her lace show- ]
ied signs of suffering. I jumped from
ihoiaddle , and in an instant was
raising io ? my lips the hand she <
extended to me. 1
Arrived at the porch , she stopped 1
ia moment as if listening. She could
fiave heard nothing , for she slowly
fpusksS-open the heavy door , which 2
• swung silently to disclose a heavily
ccaxpeted hall. And a moment later
< we reina small reception room ,
COghted by candles which threw a fiti
' ( far-gleam iipon our faces.
' "Listen. " i
They were the first words she had }
" pronounced , and the sad tones ofher i
pvoios told me she'had suffered deep-
ay. *
"VI have summoned you , " she went
on ; "you are the friend of my childi
thotid. The bond between us has
ffceea strained , but it is not broken , c
" Three years bgolbecnme Frederick's 3
ewife. As a child I had thought of 6
ttrim , whom they already called pro-
"fessor , as a being whom none might 1
• disobey ; he won me with a word , his *
glance held me , and I felt myself con1
• quered by his will. My weakness 1
iteoned upon his strength , I was proud
* * b bow before this will that seemed 1
ifeo dominate all things. I speak of
fhese matters because it is necessary i
that you should understand all , for i
I have sore need of your help. " ]
"Why , what is the matter ? Does ;
Frederick dare "
"Frederick is goodness itself , he
loves me but , I am afraid , I fear I
fear him above all things. Why ? Oh , ]
if I could but tell you , if I could but <
fenow myself ! But this fear which
( torments me every day , and every i
jniglxtstill more , is themorepoignant i
$ > ecaja3e it is inexplicable ! " 1
• "Bah ! Terror , fear these are mere t
ords , " said I , lightly , though I was j
3ar jrom feeling at ease.
* * * * * Words' which sound in our brains , j
-evertheless , which are .intelligible to j
• our reason , which awake dread ech-
oes. Why do'ou smile ? Do you j
not < know that mystery is stronger
-than reason , that from it arises the - \
' .anguish of the unknown ? " 1
In spite of myself , in spite of my (
• wish to appear skeptical , I felt most
'Unpleasantly disturbed. Lowering ]
< my voice. ' I interrogated her in a gen _ ]
• ileritone . This is what she told me.
SForsix months past , that is to say " 1
incethe birth of her child , Frederick' i
tf ho until then had held his head high j
like a soldier who feels his victory i
' • -sear , had.all at once grown nervous. <
jr 0 .whiit .problem was he seeking the <
% '
. _ _ _
solution ? What combat had he
dared to undertake ? Hobecamn mor
bidly silent , and replied to his wife's
questions only with haggard looks ,
as if ho begged her not to arouso
some distressing memory. For days
and nights he remained shut up in n
hot-house which ho had constructed
at great expense in tho park.
Weeks passed without hit
appearing at tho chateau.
Sometimes , in the night , he would
creep silently into his wife's chamber.
She ii ad watched him while ho believed
her to be sleeping. Sho had seen him
seated on a lounge , with fixed eyes
staring at some fearful vision. There
was in his contracted face an expres
sion of indescribable horror. His
frame shook , and his hands , agitated
in convulsive movement , seemed to
repulse some invisible enemy. Then
oh , she had studied him carefully
In those brief moments ho had
looked up with an imperious , trium
phant resolution. Springing sud
denly up he had fled Paula had
flown to tho window , sho had seen
him hurry toward the hot-house ,
where the lights flared always from
dusk to dawn like a light-house.
Frankly and boldly she had ques
tioned him. What was going on
down there in the park ? Why did he
so obstinately refuse to let any one
enter the hot-house ?
With a shudder lie had coldly put
her aside unanswered.
Then , bravo hypocrite that she
was , she had tried to fathom the
truth. And she had learned o
strange thing. Each day Frederick
made the Gardner buy many pounds
of fresh meat , and himself carried
them in the evening to tho hot
house. What could he be nourishing
there ? Was it some dangerous , un
known animal that he was compelled
to feed , a creature with which he wat
resigned to live alone for some scien
tific purpose ? And what was that
struggle , to which his rebellions in
the silent night bore witness ?
Was he mad ? That thought had
pierced the stricken heart of Paula
like a dagger. She dared not ques
tion him more , as she saw anguish
bring wrinkles to his face ; and , too ,
he avoided her ! He came no more ,
as had been his wont , to chat with
her in the intervals of his work.
Sometimes , however , she saw him ,
haggard and bare-headed , striding
up and down the paths , wringing his
hands , and ever and anon casting
nervous glances towards the hot
house.
At last and this was the last tor
ment one night , while she slept , he
had come , with his noiseless tread ,
into her chamber. She had felt that
he was there , and she had suddenly
opened her eyes. Frederick , stand
ing there motionless , glared at his
hands contracted as in supplication.
"Frederick , Frederick ! What are
you doing here at this hour ? "
He had muttered a brutal impre
cation i , and again had fled !
That is what Paula told me. and ,
as she spoke , I felt a reassuring sense
. ofreliefdescenduponmyheart. What
was it , after all a mere state of mor
bidness ] brought on by execessive
work. I had been Frederick's pupil
j and friend for years , and I had often
listened with wonder at the boldness
of the hypotheses he launched into
when warmed up on one of his fav
orite < topics. Was E not a physician ,
and 3 did I not recognize the madness
of ! fever when I was brought face to
face with it ? So thinking , I reasoned
with } myself , and , sure of my eloquence
and the power of reason , I went out
into i the park in search of Frederick.
Night had fallen , and the pathways
were but dimly lighted by the stars.
Presently j I saw the hot-house of
which , Paula had spoken. It was
large and well-built , surmounted
with a Mauresque dome. The lights
inside were not yet Jit , but the stars
glinted brightly on the curved glass
panes.
So therein lay the mystery. I al
most laughed aloud as I thought of
Paula's childish fears.v
As I stood taking in the details of
the i structure , a hurried step grated
onthegraveled path. Turning sharp
ly about , I saw , or rather divined , in
the deep shadow of the trees , Fred-
erick Wertheim.
"Frederick , " said I , boldly , "do
you recognize me ? "
He stopped abruptly.
"Frederick , " I continued , "it is I , "
and I held out my hand , surprised
not to feel his own.
Then guided , as it seemed to me ,
rather by the sound of my voice than
by his eyes , he leaned forward , and ,
in a harsh , cracked voice , which
sounded like thebreakingofabranch ,
he said :
"You ! What do you want ? Leave
me ! "
"What ! Is this the way you re
ceive me after so long a separation ?
Have you forgotten our old friend
ship ? "
He was undecided , wavering where
he stood. I noticed , for the first
time , that he carried on his arm a
basket , which seemed to be quite
heavy.
"I can not stop , " he said ; "let me
pass. "
"Why , certainly you can pass , " I
replied ; "but you will not prevent
me , I suppose , from following you.
I want to have an old-time chat with
you. "
He chuckled in an uncanny fashion.
"You would follow me ? Bah ! "
"On my soul , professor , this glass
palace must conceal some treasure
of which you arc very jealous. "
With his free hand he seized my
arm , and , as I kept silent , he leaned
forward as one who listens. I seemed
to make out some faint , singular
sound , something like the glidingxjf
a reptile through the grass.
% "She is "waiting for me ! " he cried ,
in a * tone in wfiicli I could detect an
ill-suppressed terror ; "I must go ! "
"Well , if you must , let us go in to
gether. " '
He seemed to hesitate still. Then
with a determined gesture , he mut
tered : "Come , then ; even you could
defend me , if by any chance "
He did not complete the sentence ;
But as his hand glided over mine , * '
I felt that it was cold as ice.
He led me now. We arrived before ,
the door of the hot-house. He drew i
a key from his pocket , and turned itj I
in the lock ; and , as I stepped for- ;
ward , seeing nothing about me in the
darkness , he drew me back with sud
den violence.
i
- •
"On 3'om' life , " he whispered , "do
not move ! "
In Spite pf my assurance , I felt a
vajnie , unreasoning dread seizo upon
me. Again I heard that strange
rustling which had struck me before ;
it wn.i a gentle , gliding sound , such
j' .h is inado bya paper slippingacross
a nimble floor.
All at onco I knew not how , Fred
erick ( aused a glaring , blinding light
to illuminate the hot-house , and
bonified , my hair rising upon my
head , I fell back against the door , my
hands clutching its iron bars !
In the centre of the room , in the
midst of an endless variety of fantas
tically formed plants , a being , a night
mare , a horror arose before my eyes ;
a hydra , a polyp a Thing no man
could name.
It had the shape of a colossal court ,
and from its surface innumerable arms
reached out , with gluacous-bulbs ,
like eyes , at the end of each. The in
ner body seemed green , the arms
were of reddish purple , and , as they
spread out to those ghoulish eyes ,
the blood-red seemed to blend and
mingle to the greenness of a putre
scent corpse.
My eyes closed involuntarily , and I
felt a terrible griping at my heart ;
and still I head that gliding sound ,
which I divined came from those arms
as they reached forth and contracted
within themselves incessantly.
At last , surprised that I had not
been seized by this hideous and mon
strous thing , I mustered up strength
to look at it. Frederick , who was
now as pale as death , had taken from
the basket a piece of meat , and , with
infinite precautions , balancing gin
gerly on the tips of his toes , aa if he
feared lest his hand be touched by
those horrible tentacles , he placed the
raw morsel on the extremity of a clus
ter of those waving arms. And sud
denly , as if they were of elastic , the
arms drew in upon themselves , drag
ging the meat , which was thus
brought to the shorter arms , which 1
now saw composed an inner circle.
And all the arms bent in toward the
centre , till I could no longer see the
meat.
Shuddering and sick at heart , I
glanced at Frederick. His forehead
was covered with perspiration , his
teeth chattered the demoniac brute
was motionless now , ravenous over
its monstrous deglutition.
"She eats , Titane eats ! " he whis
pered.
"Titane ? " I repeated after him ,
stupidly.
"You do not know , you cannot un
derstand ! Do you not recognize her ?
Now , look , see , she is tamed "and
all at once I comprehended , I saw
this monstrous beast.
For nearly an hour she will be this
way , " said Frederick ; "ah , I know
why you come ! They think me ma d !
But it is not true mad ! I ! I , who
by a miracle of perseverance , by a
master-work of selection , have devel
oped the insectivorous plant Drosera
to this formidable size. You will
see it , this monster , hold out its ten
tacles to me in an instant empty -
and I must nourish it , I must feed it ,
or \ " He glanced about him ap
prehensively ,
"Or ? " I repeated.
"Listen , " said he ; "you shall know
my secret , You know with what ard
or I followed the discoveries of Nits-
chkeWarming \ , and Darwin in the
study ' of those strange plants that
are \ intermediate between the vege
table and animal worlds , which en
trap insects , seize them , and feed up
on ! them , slowly absorbing and suck
ing norishment from them. I was
sure \ ; of the results of these strange
studies , I did not doubt the end for
; an ; instant , and I said to myself that
the Drosera , the Dioncea , the Dros-
ophyllum ' are listen to me well , now
\ the degenerate posterity of mon
strous ! animals , whose terrible forms
have remained to us in the legends of
the most primitive peoples. Hydras ,
chimeras , krakens , dragons all have
;
2xistedy fife human imagination has
created ; nothing. But by climatic
adaptations , because of geological
transplantation , and through the
fchousand-and-one modifying forces
of ' nature , these formidable beings ,
deprived ' of the nourishment that
was \ necessary to them , have retro-
rressed , by a kind of inverted ata
\ vism , into the vegetable form , have
become immovable , attached to the
3oil . by roots. They were compelled
to seek their chief nourishment direct-
y from the earth itselfand they have
: oecome plants again , preserving only
jhe supreme aptitude , sole vestige of
iheirlost life , the faculty of animal
lutrition.
"I determined to reconstitute this
itropic genus ; I determined that I
.vould change the plant back into the
Deast. Ah , how many attempts have
ailed ! At length chance all our
science is but the child of chance
jlaced in my hands a Drosera of ex
ceptional size. I have nourished her ,
md developed within her the rem
nants of the animal juices. Little by
ittle she has evolved and grown ,
antil , at last , the acme of deduction ,
jhe hydra , the dragon lives again !
Behold my Titane enormous and
• sublime ! Behold her , ferocious in the
lunger that I cannot sate ! "
And as two tentacles separated
bhemselves from the mass and waved
softly in the air , with a hideous cease-
.ess motion , he gently laid upon
ohem a fresh piece of flesh.
"But you do not know all , " he
continued , in a low tone ; "if Titane
should be very hungry I did not
roreseethis in her present condition
of ferocious power , she would tear
oerself ' lrom the place to which
aer now enfeebled roots bind
oer ! And then , a terrible and all-
powerful brute , she would drag her
slimy and enormous bulk out into
She world where 'there are men , and
.vomen.and little children and what ,
aas been my triumph would become
my crime !
"I fear that she may escape some
3ay , and , lest she become hungry , I
aratch her every hour , night and
1 ay. Were I once but a few minutes
.ate , and I knew that she would hurl
herself upon the world , menacing my
wife and child , whom she would first
? ncounter ! Let her eat , let her eat ,
for she must not wish to move lrom
here. " And again he tossed down
cri-eat masses of meat. And through
the fibres of this horrible plant passed
purple tides of the extracted blood.
At this moment , as I stood speech-
i
"
y
--itMitTman ip ww i i i
less , overwhelmed with the intensity
of my revulsion , the barred door ,
whieh I had not securely shut , swung
softly open , and Paula appeared.
Her courage had been stronger
than her fenr. Now that she knew I
was there , she had had the boldness
to violate the secrecy of this cham
ber of horrors.
"Frederick ! " she cried.
But to her call a blood curdling
shriek responded. In his surprise at
her sudden appearance , Frederick had
recoiled a step , and , forgetful of his
danger , touched with his hand the
monster's tentacles. With lightning
rapidity all the hideous trumpet-
mouths had seized upon
the hand , grasping the wrist ,
the fore-arm ! Oh , horror ! I saw it
drawn down by that resistless suc
tion. I seized him about the body ,
straining eVery muscle to draw him
from the embrace of the terrible
Titane but the brute was stronger
than I.
Than my eyes fell upon an axe in
the corner.
"The trunk ! the trunk ! " I cried to
Paula ; "cut it , hack it ! "
Weak as she was with fright , she
seized the axe and swung its shining
blade and struck one blow that cut
through the very roots of the plant.
It seemed to make an effort to rise ,
to hurl itself at us , perhaps , and
then , powerless , suddenly collapsed
with a flaccid sound like wet linen ,
and at the same time I pulled the un
fortunate Frederick loose from the
relaxed tentacles.
Paula caught him in her arms. He
opened his eyes , and , in a last spasm ,
fixed them on me as he said : "As
sassin ! you have killed Titane ! "
And he fell back dead. Translated
for the Arogonaut from the French
of Jules Lermina.
Frank James In tho East.
"There goes Frank James. I won
der what he is going to do in New
York ? " The speaker and his com
panion halted and gazed at a man
crossing Broadway at twenty-eight
street , New York city.
There was nothing extraordinary'
<
about the individual who thus at
tracted attention. As a matter of
fact he seemed a very commonplace
personage. He was between five feet
eight and five feet nine inches in
height , attired in a badly fitting suit
of dark coarse material. The sack
coat and trousers were evidently the
handiwork of some other tailor. On
his head he wore a black slouch hat
after the manner of the west. He
was homely a very long , bony nose ,
with a very decided inclination to a
hook , was the prominent feature of a
face scarcely indicating average in-
telligence. He carried his head in a
drooping attitude , but beneath the
rim of his broad brimmed hat peered
forth two dark , small , but restless
eyes. His hands were in his pockets.
"And who is Frank James ? "
queried his companion to the speak-
er.
er."A
"A poor man who might today be
worth § 100,000. In fact he is the
last of the bandit kings. Heisaman
with a history the retired and re-
spectable train and bank robber. "
It was indeed none other than the
ex-outlaw of Missouri , a man upon
whose head a price had been set by
the governor of his state , who was
thusparadingso unconcernedly down
Broadway one afternoon. A business
trip to Connecticut had caused Frank r
James' appearance for two days in s
New York city and a short absence -
from his quiet little home at Independ
ence , a village 14 miles east of Kan-
sas City.
Frank James is , indeed , the last of i
the race of outlaws and bandits. The f
train robbers of the present day are c
mere tyros to this famous criminal , *
who , after 15 years of crime and after
being hunted year in and year out (
for his life , lives quietly and peace
fully in the bosom of his family in aj
Missouri village.
Frank James is a very reserved and 6
almost taciturn. He never speaks of c
liis robber exploits and nothing t
about him indicates the shrewdness c
and cool daring of the man. Helms - ,
one weakness. He believes he can
act. He is a great reader of Shake- '
speare and can quote page after page i
of the bard of Aron. f
But he is a man of strong common j
sense and even conquers his pet fail- ,
mg of "spouting. " Heisapoorman ; *
does not probably earn § 30 a week. '
Yet he might to-day have been rich.
After his trial responsible parties *
wanted to put him upon the stage in '
a drama written to order on his own *
career. He was offered $100,000 for f
a three year's contract , and finally <
$125,000 and all expenses. He re- •
fused. He said he wanted to with-
draw from the public gaze ; he wanted f
to end his days quietly with his family.l
He presisted , and now nothing dis- *
tinguishes his from the ordinary west1 1
ern village storekeeper. He is about 1
45 years of age , and although not '
rery robust has probably a long
least of life.
Is not this one of the strangest s
careers of the present day ? New
York Press. " <
A Groom of a Generous Turn. 1
Prom the Xenv York Press. }
Augustus Anderson , a steerage ;
passenger who arrived on the French \
line steamship Normandie , became i
infatuated during the voyage from f
Havre with Ida Peterson. When T
they arrived at Castle Garden , Anj j
derson applied to Superintendent. 1
Simpson for a German minister. The <
superintendent , after a short absence i
from the Garden , returned with Pas-
tor Burgermeyer , who married the 1
pair. As Mr. 'Simpson had taken so
much trouble to bring about this 1
union , Anderson told him that he (
might kiss the bride if he chose. The i
crowd who were in the vicinity after \
the marriage ceremony had been per1 1
formed , thought the superintendent '
would not take the groom's offer , i
but he did just the same , giving Mrs. i
Anderson a kiss that resounded ;
throughout the rotunda. 1
- , < ' * ' * '
* f V'f . r
*
A
's
xv's
. .r. JVt - fa , „
- • r ni-Ti - rrni ) raasasaaa NMMMtfa
Tho Tear of tho Lord Shown In
Shakespeare.
This "fear of the Lord" is incorpo
rated by Shakespeare in tho impres
sion left upon us bjf his great tragedies
in away far more effectual than if he
wero invariably to apportion rewards
and punishments in tho fifth act with
a neat and cqady hand to his good
and evil characters. It is enough for
him to engage our loyalty and love for
human worth , wherever and however
we meet with it , and to make us re
joice in its presence whether it find in
this world conditions favorable to
its action or the reverse. This we
might name the principle of faith in
the province of ethics , and thereat
all events we are saved by faith. The
innocent suffer in Shakespeare's plays
as they do in real life ; but all our
hearts go with them. Which of us
would not choose to be Duncan lying
in his blood rather than Macbeth up
on the throne ? Which of us would
not choose rather to suffer wrong
with Desdemona than rejoice in ac
complished villainy with lago ? But
Macbeth , logo , Edmund , Richard III. ,
King Claudius , and the other malefac
tors of Shakespeare's plays do not
indeed triumph in the final issue.
"The conscience of mankind
refuses to believe in the ultimate
impunity of guilt , and looks upon
the flying criminal as only taking a
circuit to his doom. " Shakespeare
here rightly exhibits tilings fore
shortened in the tract of time.
Though the innocent and the righte
ous may indeed , if judged from a
merely external point of view , ap
pear as losers in the game of life , the
guilty can never in the long run be
the winners. The baser types , which
for a time seem to flourish in viola
tion of the laws of health or the
spiritual laws of the inner life , inev
itably tend toward sterility and ex
tinction. The righteous have not
set their hearts on worldly success
or prosperity , and they do not attain
it ; a dramatic poet may courageous
ly exhibit the fact ; but what is dearer
they attain a serene conscience and
a tranquil assurance that all must
be well with those supported by the
eternal laws. But the guilty ones ,
whose aim has been external success ,
and who have challenged the divine
laws or hoped to evade them ,
. are ' represented as failing in the end
to achieve that poorsuccess on which
their hearts have been set. "I have
the wicked in * * *
seen : great power
but I went by , and lo , he was not. "
Follow a malefactor far enough ,
Shakespeare says , and you will find
that his feet must needs be caught
: : n the toils spread for those who
strive ! against the moral order of the
world. , Nor can pleasureevadetiiose
inexorable laws any more than can
crime. J A golden mist with magic
inhalations ; and strange glamour ,
pleasure ; may rise for an hour ; but
these are the transitory glories of
sunset ' vapors , which night presently
strikes inl o sullen quietude with her
leaden ] mace. This is what Shake-
speare i has exhibited in his "Antony
and ; Cleopatra. " AH the sensuous
witchery of the East is there display
ed : but behind the gold and the mu
sic , the spicery and the eager amor
\ ous faces rise the dread forms of ac
tors 1 on whom the players in that
stupendous * farce-tragedy had not
reckoned , the forms of the calm
avenginglaws. Dowden , in the Fort
nightly Review.
- - < m ±
Waj-s of the Manatee.
As a reporter of the New York
Telegram was walking along South
street a young fellow with aloud
voice called attention to some sea
cows the first ever exhibited in New
York , he said. A pleasant looking
man said he had brought the beasts
from their native haunts after a
great deal of trouble. There were
three of them , weighing respectively
610 , 650 and 815 pounds.
The proprietor told the reporter
that he would show him their re-
semblance to the cow , and , leaning
over the edge of the tank in which
the two smallest ones were confined ,
caught one by the jaw and told it to
lift its head up , which it did. Then
the man opened the beast's mouth ,
which is exactly like the cow in shape
and appearance. The animal's hear
is very much like a cow's head but
for the large , overhanging eyebrows
and the absence of horns.
"The manatee , or cow , " said the
man , "is found in all tropical waters ,
but chiefly in the Caribbean sea. It
subsisted entirely on vegetable mat
ter and is never known to touch fish
or animal food ; consequently its flesh
is much sought after by natives and
sailors near where it abounds , and in
consequence the manatee has become
nearly extinct. It is one of the most
harmless animals of the sea ; yet it
has an enemy in the shark , who fol- (
lows it hours at a time hopingto get
a taste of its flesh. The cow has no
weapon of defense , but is a wonderful j
swimmer and is able to outswim the ;
shark with great ease.
"The manatee eats all kinds of vege- ,
tables and grasses , and in captivity it
eats common meadow grass. The j
three I have here , " said the pro
prietor , "were caught by me off
the southern coast of Florida.
They are very hard to catch alive.
They have such great power in
their tails , which sometimes measure (
5 feet in length , that they often break
the strongest nets. They can't stay !
under water longer than seven '
minutes , consequently we have to i
bring them to the surface in that
time to get air , otherwise they would ,
drown , and then let them drop in the
water until we can get them aboard .
ship , but when once there they will i
live for two weeks out of water. ,
"There's a grass called sea grass j
that grows in the ocean to a height ,
of about 6 or 7 feet , and when we see .
it floating on the water it is a sign
thatthe manatees are about , and we
lay our nets for them accordingly.
They are mostly found in pairs , but
if attacked by sharks they will form
in battle array , surrounding their .
young : to protect them. The three
that I have here I expect to keep.
i
J ' . '
. , ' SJtr _
.ii-r M1 < „
saaaaai i ji r iiiii n taw w *
Fiction Outdone.
Tho Muchins Republican tells of ft
Maine man who spent a night in
Muchins recently. Tho hero of tho
remarkable series of adventures is
ITarvoy P. Osgood , who says ho was
born in Princeton in 1828. In 1843
ho ran away and enlisted in tho
United States arm } ' , serving in vari
ous commands until tho close of tho
war of tho rebellion , being several
times a prisoner and , in fact , escap
ing from Kirby Smith across tho
Rio Grande in the last days of hos
tilities. But Osgood was no sooner
in Mexican-territory than he became
the captive of a band of mar aiding
Greasers.
Mr. Osgood claims to have passed
twenty-two years of his life with
these men , during which time he
learned to speak their Inngungo
flunently , which , ho says , was the
chief cause of his long captivity , he
having been retained for an inter
preter. Ho claims to have made
frequent trials for liberty , but with
out success , for some of these roving
bands were sure to recapture him
before he could reach the border.
The last trial he made for this pur-
poso was March 7,1888 , but ho was
pursued and when he found escape
impossible he threw up his hands to
surrender , but was to late to avoid
the effects of a volley fired by the
pursuing party , which caused the loss
of nearly one-half of the right fpot ,
another bullet splitting his svlp.
Still another entered his mouth ,
knocking out three teeth and break
ing his jaw , and is now lodged under
the ear ; still another which was cop
per , struck him in tho side , passing
around the bodyand is now lodged
in the breast , and , being poisonous ,
causes him much trouble. It is by
l'eason of this that he travels on foot
rather than by rail or carriage , . <
any serious jar will bring on hemor
rhage.
Shortly after Osgood's recapture
Mexican troops ran down the Grea
sers , and the American's long cap
tivity was at an end. He made his
way to the City of Mexico and then
north through the United States to
Maine.
In addition to the loss of a part of
one hand and one foot. Osgood car-
ries seven bullets in various places in
his body , some of which could doubt-
less have been taken out had he been
in position to have received proper
treatment. He had papers from the
commanders of varous army posts
throughout the country , stating
that they have examined him closely ,
and believe the account which he
gives of himself to be true , and rec
ommend him to the consideration of
comrades farther on. He has also
dozens of papers of a like nature
from noted men in various places , all
of which seem to be genuine. Whether
the story which he tells is true or
not , he is certainly a remarkable
-man , and has undoubtedly seen
rough times somewhere. H& says he
has not slept in a bed for thirty years ,
and wants nothing better than a
blanket on the hard floor.
a-o-p"
Pins , Twehe .Dollars A Papcrt
From an article entitled "Hard
Times in the Confederacy" in
the September Centurywe (
quote the following : "In August , 18c
64r a private citizen's coat and vest ,
madeof five yards of coarsehome
spun , cloth , cost two hundred and
f
thirty dollars exclusive of the price
paid for the making. The trimmings l
consisted of old cravats ; and for the
e
cutting , and putting together , a t
country , tailor charged fifty dollars.
It is safe to say that the private *
citizen ( looked a veritable guy in "his
new ] suit , in spite of its heavy drain i
upon , his pocket-book. In January ,
1865 , the material for a lady's dress *
which before the war would have cost
y
ten , dollars could not be bought for c
less j than five hundred. The mascua
line j mind is unequal to the tasks of I
guessing j howgreat asummighthave t
beenhadforbonnets'broughttnrough 1 *
the lines ; for in spite of patient selfa
sacrifice and unfaltering devotion at
the bedside of the wounded in the 5
hospital ] , or in ministering to needs n
of i relatives and dependents at home ,
the Southern women ot those days g
are credited with as keen an interest a
in the fashions as women everywhere e
in civilized lands are apt to be in t
times of peace. It was natural that s
they should be so interested , even
though that interest could in the I
main not reach beyond theory. 8
Without it they often would have v
had a charm the less and a pang the s
more. Any feminine garment in the n
shape , of cloak or bonnet or dress e
which chanced to come from the d
North was readily awarded its meed <
of ( praise , and reproduced by sharp I
eyed observers , so far as the scarcity v
of , materials would admit. But t
fashion's j rules were necessarily much t
relaxed in the Southern Confederacy g
so far as practice went when even v
uoh articles as pins brought through r
the blockade sold for twelve dollars c
a paper , and needless for ten , with v
not enough of either. "
i
u
A Woiiilcrfiillr Lucky Baby. a
From the Omaha Herald. t
Officer Yanous , who patrols the v
district West of the Union Pacific n
shops , is an expert catcher. One
afternoon while pacing up Chi-
cagoStreet , near Twelfth , his attent
tion wns called to a volume of smoke t
pouring out ol the upper window of j t
1217 , and he started for the nearest s
signal box. As he was passingthe , v
building he saw something whitet
come out of theteecond-storv window , e
and instinctively put out bis hand r
to catch it. He succeeded. It was
a little 2-months-old baby. Its fas
ther. L. ( ' . Pettitiford , had returned o
home , filled the gasoline stove tank , h
touched a match to the burner , when , h (
presto , change , the stove exploded , o
His wife was frightened out of her b
wits and caught up the baby and d
fired it from the window.
i 3 - * -
'
>
iiiiiiii i'fHii'HMwiiiiwwrwr""r ' ' ' - 0 * * * r" *
The Story of a TtaMp , I
There fo floniotimcs a good denl'of 9
difficulty about a man in a atrango 0
town getting himself identified. There I
hosjust turned up an ingenious tramp M
over in Now Jeraoy who has hit upon ff ]
a novel and successful plan. They jJ )
aro kindly people in tho country. | i
Thoy have agood deal ofsimplo faith , a ]
which nn eminent poet has assured If
us is better than Norman blood , and vjj
when cheok backs a man up tho | i
simple faith becomes simpler still. n
Tramps aro tho original human na- < t > y
ture. Our great forefather was a |
tramp , bub had to give up tho busi- r
ness because there were no chicken r
houses to rob , no hay stacks to sleep |
behind and no good-hearted farmers' [
wife to givo him anything to eat. l
Yet these must of been glorious days I
for tramping for there wero no dogs , f
no guns , no policemen , no nothing (
that was dangerous. Wo are all nat- J
urally tramps. A tramp does the i ,
hardest kind of work from pure lazi- t
ness. He is about the only specimen ,
except Stanley and Emin Bey and J
two or three more , who lives a lifo ol
j
adventure. Governments support i
those travellers and they get killed. L
My opinion is that if the American
Government will ship alot of genuine , |
well-trained tramps to Africa wo will j
find out nil about the country
in no time. Tramps always
get through. Borring the few
who get killed by trains , they do not 4
seem to die. Where they go to , .
heaven only knows , but the mor- V
tality among tramps is low , and
nothing not even bad whiskey con \
kill them. Heaven has to do it by
dropping them off freight cars.
Tramps are useful. They give a zest
to country life , which is otherwise
unexcited by anything more interest
ing than tho weather or a mad bull. j
Yes , old King Lear hit tramps well i
when he said to Edgar , "Here aro '
three of us sophisticated ; thou art *
the thing itself. " I
However , tramps can be reformed J
with \ money , like other human nature
The tramp whereof I speak had been
holding an autopsy on a beer barrel j
in the city of Passaic and succeeded \
in getting very full. As long as he
\ was empty the law had no hold upon
him. ; When he got full the police
came ' in and jugged him. He was )
\ duly tried for being drunk , and hav
ing ] served his sentence he disap- '
peured. 1 A few weeks after he turned k
up J again and visited the court. No
longer in the custody of the law , he
got the ear of the Judge and pro- { I
duced ' a check. . '
'
"Judge , " he said , "pardon me. You
know ] you had me before you for be
ing drunk once. I've got a bill on
the 1 bank , and they won't pay it with
out identification. You know me.
Do J you mind goingdownto the bank
and s identifying me ? "
The Judge did. He wrote his name
on the back of the bill and the hum
j
ble reformed tramp d'-ew § 30 and
disappeared. It turned out that the
bill ' was a duplicate , the original of
which had been paid before. And
now the Judge is out § 30.
Galley Slaves. *
The life of the French galley slaves
of the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries has been thus described by
Admiral de la Graviere : "They place , *
seven men on each bench , that is '
to say , in a space ten feet long by
four feet wide. They are so packed ,
away that you can see nothing from
stern to bow but the heads of the
sailors. The captain and the officers <
are not much better off.
"When the seas overtake the gal
leys , when the north wind howls
alongthe coast , or when the sirocco ,
dampens the passengers with" its'
deadly moisture , all these make the
galley unendurable. The lamenta
tions of the ship's company , the
shrieks of the sailors , tho horrible
howling of the convicts , the groaning
of the timbers , mixed with the chains }
and the natural noises of the storm , ,
produce an effect that will terrify the ' 1/ /
bravest of men ! Even the calm has 1
its ' inconvenience. The horrid smells
are so powerful that you cannot
withstand them , despite the fact that ' |
you use tobacco in some shape from
morning till night. "
Condemned in 1701 to serve in the
galleys of France on account of being
a Protestant , Jean Martelle de Bug-
erac died , in 1777 , at Galenburg , on
the Gueldre , at the age of 95. He
says :
"All the convicts are chained to a
bench ; these benches are four feet
apart , and covered with a bag stuffed
with wool , on which is thrown a
sheepskin. The overseer ; who is
master of the slaves , remains aft , ' f
near the captain , to receive his or
ders. There are two sub-overseers
one amidships , the other on the bow ,
Each one of them is armed with a ,
whip , which he exercises on the naked
bodies of the crew. "When the cap- '
tain orders the boat off , the overseer
2jive3 a signal from a silver whistle
which hangs from his neck. This is
repeated by the two others , aud at t
once the slaves strike the water. One i
svould say the fi fty oars were but one.
"Imagine six men chained to a
bench , naked as they were born , one
foot on the foot-rest , the other braced
against the seat in front , holding in
their hands an oar of enormous
iveight , stretching their bodies out
and extending their arms forward to
ward 1he backs of those before them ,
who have the same attitude. , ' .
"The oar thus advanced , they raise j *
the end they hold in their hand , so ' I
that the other end shall plunge into ,
the sea. That done , they throw them-
selves back and fall on their seats , ' . .
ivhich bend on receiving them. Some- *
times the slaves row ten , twelve or
jven twenty hours at a time , without
relaxation.
"The overseer , or some one else , on i
such occasions puts into the mouth
! the unfortunate rower a morsel of
bread steeped with wine to prevent
lis fainting. It by chance one falls
aver which often happens he is
twuten until he is supposed to be
lead , and then thrown overboard :
ivithout ceremony. "
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