IN THE EARLY DAYS.
Tbs great first children Journeyed through
The countries, lonely then.
With all their sheep and little ones.
Their cattle and their men.
» And kept themselves in tribes apart
For awe of the great plains,
, And learned the length of days and night6.
Of snmmers and of rains.
* And saw no other men through all
The blue horizons wide.
8avo i heir own kind, who came to birth
And marched and sang and died.
And left the mark of well pitch’d tents.
Of footprints In the dew.
And tracks of beaten, billowed grass
Their flocks hod pastured through.
4
And sometimes on a mountain top
They stood among their spears.
And gazed across an unknown sea
Into the unknown years.
V A ,
And sometimes o'er a silent plain.
As endless as the sky,
4 A child from lands unknown would come
And meet them eye to eye.
j And they would gaze and love and spe^k
And rest awhile, and then
Each journeyed past with all his sheep.
Ills cattle and his men.
—Alice Archer Sewell in Harper's Monthly/
HE DOUBTED HER.
•
The fishing fleet had set out early in
the morning. The atmosphere was
very clear, and the boats could still be
seen in the distance, strung out in a
long line across the horizon, between
the Oriel beach and the Pointe de
Cayeux.
A few sailors’ wives, children and
old men still loitered on tho jetty, all
in excellent humor, for with such
weather there should certainly be a fine
haul of fish. The sea was admirably
blue, but lashed by tho wind it broke
into little waves, which rushed, white
capped, toward the shore.
"Do you seo it yet, mamma?” asked
a little fellow who had staid away from
school that morning in order to see Iris
father start with the fleet.
His mother had a marine glass—a
luxury that her neighbors envied her.
In such clear weather as this, if they
could not distinguish the men, they
could at least make out the gigantic
numbers on the sails.
He would have remained a long time
watching his father’s sloop as it grew
smaller and smaller in the distance, but
his mother led him away. They must
go back to the house to their work.
They loitered along the harbor, which
had lost its animation now that its fleet
of fishing craft was gone.
On the side toward the town a few
small boats were waiting till the sea
went down a little before venturing out,
Xhd ou ihe other side half a dozen ships
were discharging their cargoes of coal
and taking on phosphates.
Mine. Fournier stopped mechanical
ly in the middle of the quay to look at
a fine English three master, the Har
ding, which came every week with a
cargo of coal. A sailor, leaning on the
rail of the ship, saw her and waved his
cap gayly to her. She turned away
and hurried up the Rue de la Falaise
to her home.
Two hours later the loungers of the
Rue de la Falaise were greatly surprised
to see Master Fournier, the owner of
the fishing sloop T 672. hastening an
grily homeward.
He had not entered the house before
his neighbors had run to learn the rea
son of his sudden return.
Why had he come back?
it was that way that they had of
leaving port, with all sails set, what
ever the weather, which was known all
up and down the coast as "Treport sail
ing.”
Her backstay had been broken, and
Fournier had had to come back to port
for repairs. These were already under
way, and once he had his men at work
he had come up to see his wife a mo
ment.
"Your wife—she has gone out, but
•he will be back directly.”
He was pouring himself a glass of
thin wine from the pitcher he had drawn
that morning before leaving, when he
noticed the inkstand open on the table
and the pen beside it, still wet with
ink.
It was his son’s pen and inkstand,
but as the little fellow never wrote dur
ing the day he concluded that his wife
must have been writing. Almost at
the same moment he noticed a letter in
the blue vase on the mantel, and with
out thinking he opened it and read:
Mm*. Fournier:
i love you more than I can tell. I implore
you U» set a time when we can meet. You are
free—your husband is gone.
Harry Evans.
’My God I ’ ’ cried Fournier, “Harry
Evans!"
He knew him well, this handsome
English sailor of the Harding, who had
already ruined more than one home in
Trepnrt—a tall fellow, as tall as Four
nier himself, fair, with the complexion
of a girl and tender bine eyes.
He sprang up to rush to the quay and
strangle the Englishman, when he heard
his wife returning. Evidently she had
answered that insulting letter, and she
would tell him what answer she had
given. He trusted his wife.
"I hurried back." she said as she
came in ' I heard of the accident as 1
was doing my marketing. ”
As she laid the purchase she had
made on the table, he had time to thrust
the letter back into tho vase. He
Wonld wait for her to speak.
Mine. Fournier continued to busy
herself with her household duties. He
watched her, and he found her still
young, browned like himself, almost as
tall, gracefully poised on her pointed
sabots and with a waist still slender.
From time to time she looked at him
with a smile. She was not surprised
to see him looking somber after the ac
cident. She did not say anything about
it, for she had given him her advice on
tho subject long ago, and it was the
•ole matter on which they disagreed.
“Wife, have you nothing new to tell
me?"
“Nothing, my dear husband.”
His face contracted as with a sudden
pain. His wife, thinking it due to cha
grin at the accident, kissed him tender
ly
He pressed hor to him with unaccus
tomed force. Never, even in the fierc
est tempest, had ho suffered as he suf
fered now. Suspicion, entering his
simple, loyal heart, ravaged it terribly.
“Well, goodby. I am going to the
harbor. Wo shall go out with the next
tide, if the backstay is repaired. Good
by.”
She accompanied him to the end of
tho street and bade him farewell with
so frank an eye that ho asked himself
if it were possible that such a woman
could lio.
Ho was about to go to the Harding
when one of the sailors saw him and
came after him. Compelled to return
to his vessel, he had time to reflect. A
sudden fit of rage, a fight, would prove
nothing, and he would never know the
truth.
So he calmly watched the work of
reparation, which was coming on apace.
At 2 o’clock his wife brought him his
luncheon. At 5 his son came to kiss
him goodby, and that evening he set
sail again, after having seen tho Har
ding leave Treport for England.
The following Saturday, after a ter
rible tempest, the fishing fleet returned
to Treport. laden with a fine catch of
fish. Master Fournier looked quickly
to see if tho English thre9 master were
at the quay, but she was not there.
Disembarking, he learned that the
Harding had gone down in sight of
Spithead, and that all on board had
been lost.
Harry hvans, then, was dead. His
wife alono knew the truth. He would
not dare to question her. He would
never know the truth—he would doubt
her always I
From that time every one in Treport
remarked that Master Fournier had
grown taciturn. They asked his wife
the reason, but she replied evasively
that she did not know.
His sailors found him rougher than
before and more avaricious. He often
returned to Treport on Snnday morn
j ing and left again the same evening,
without a night’s rest.
One week he came back on Tuesday,
; and the news spread that the St. Lau
| rent had brought back the corpse of a
; drowned man. According to the cus
! tom of that part of the coast, Master
Fournier had given orders to return to
port, losing his catch of fish, in order
to bury the dead.
Accompanied by two of his sailors,
he made his deposition before the com
missioner, and the latter had him sign
; the declaration that “the body of a
drowned man had been recovered by the
St. Laurent at a point 15 miles SSW
of Spithead, measuring 5 feet 10 inches
I in height, dressed in a blue woolen
shirt, trousers of gray cloth and necker
chief of red cotton; no papers, no marks
to establish identity; supposed, from the
place of drowning, in default of other
evidence, to have been one of the crew
of the Harding.”
Early the next morning a funeral
procession traversed the village and bore
to the little church the remains of the
unknown sailor found by the St. Lau
rent. Behind the coffin walked the
sailors of the St. Laurent, their master
at their head, and behind the men came
the wives or mothers of the sailors.
The religious ceremony was brief,
but respectfully followed, and the un
known dead was conducted to the cem
etery by the great family of sailors of
Treport, who honor themselves in thus
honoring the remains of others.
“Get yourselves ready,” announced
Master Fournier to his men. “We go
to sea directly.”
Fournier led his wife to a little knoll
a few paces away from the cemetery.
He wished to speak with her without
witnesses.
“Wife,” he said, “do you know for
whom you have come to pray?”
She trembled and pressed her hus
band’s hand. She had never seen him
so solemn.
“The man we have just buried was
Harry Evans—wait!”
Mme. Fournier turned pale. Her hus
band tendered her a paper, stained as
if with water.
“Wife. I have doubted you. My
punishment is to accuse myself of it. 1
read the letter he dared to write to you,
and 1 have been very miserable. The
other night when this drowned man
was found 1 alone searched him. I could
not show to others, not even to the
commissioner, the only paper he had
on him, in a little bag of oiled silk. The
water bad dimmed it a little, but I
have read it nevertheless.”
It was the answer written to the
handsome English sailor by Mme. Four
nier:
Silt—I love my husband. That is the sole
answer I can make to your letter. I shall say
nothing to my husband, for he would kill you.
Never come here again.
“Wife, do you forgive me?”
“Oh, my poor husband, how you have
suffered!”
From that day Master Fournier grew
young and gay again, but nothing can
keep him from going out with ail sails
set.—Translated For San Francisco
Argonaut From tho French of Pierre
Sales.
The Age of Senator Harris.
The exact age of Senator Harris is a
profound mystery. He resolutely re
fuses to state the date of his birth in
the Congressional Directory. This is
only one of his eccentricities, but it is
his strongest. I asked Representative
Patterson of Memphis once how old his
friend really was. If any one should
know it, he should, for they are as
intimate as any two men in congress.
Patterson shook his head sadly. “If
Harris were to die tomorrow,” he said,
“I do not believe any ono could tell his
age to the marble cutters. In Tennes
see we figure this way,” he said, laugh
ing; “we know that he went on the
duelfield with Andrew Jackson in 1808
—at least this has never been denied.
He was a man then and supposed to
have some gray hairs at the time. A
conservative estimate would make him
out to be about 150 years of age."—
Washington Cor. Augusta Chronicle.
AN OCEAN TBACKEDY.
THE TEHRIBLE FATE WHICH BEFEl.
THE CENTRAL AMERICA.
A Contest Between Angry Waters and s
Bur-ket Line, la Which the Latter Lost.
A Cowardly Engineer—A Bird Guided
the Ellen to the Rescue.
And who that remembers can hear
without a thrill the name of the steam
ship Central America, which sank in a
great storm on Sept. 12, 1837, with most
of her officers and crew, nearly 400 pas
sengers and $1,800,000 in gold?
The Central America was crowded
with treasure laden people from Cali
fornia on their way to New York. Aft
er leaving Havana on Sept. 8 she ran
into h storm. The steamer began to
leak, and Captain Hernden called upon
the passengers to form lines ami pass
the buckets. Hour after hour the tem
pest howled, and the huge vessel groaned
as the immense seas broke against her.
Hour after hour the men with the buck
ets toiled for their lives: slowly the wa
ter gained on them.
1 he officers exhorted the bucket gangs
not to pause for a moment if the ship
was to be saved. The wind roared and
the storm increased in fury. Every pas
senger stuck to his post and worked un
til he fell to the deck exhausted. Then
the women offered to take the places of
their womout, fainting husbands and
brothers, but none of the men would al
low it. As the horror of the situation
gradually dawned on the minds of the
women and children the air was filled
with sounds of terror, but above the
raging hurricane and the cries of lamen
tation roso the chorus of the bucket
men:
Heave, oh! heave, oh! stamp and go.
We’ll he jolly blather, oh!
All day long they sang this song and
fought for life against the steadily ris
ing water. Mrs. Easton, a bride on her
honeymoon trip, passed bottles of wine
to the heroic men to strengthen them in
their desperate work. All night long
the struggle was continued, and still the
ocean gained inch by inch. The women
begged, with tears in their eyes, to be
allowed to help. They cheered the brave
fellows and wept when they saw them
fall to the deck with white faces and
trembling limbs.
During the next day the peril of the
steamer was increased by the lack of food
and water. The hurricane tossed the
sinking hull about and shattered her
spars and masts. While the tired and
sleepless men stuck to the buckets the
women knelt and prayed to God for as
sistance.
About 2 o’clock in the afternoon a sail
was seen to windward. Guns were ffred
and signals of distress hoisted. The
strange vessel, which turned out to be
the brig Marine of Boston, answered the
signals and tried to approach, but the
gale blew her about three miles away.
Then the boats were made ready, and
the women and children prepared them
selves. They had to strip off nearly all
of their clothes and put on life preserv
ers. Many of the women had gold,
which they could not carry with the
them. Two of them went to their state
rooms and took out bags of $20 gold
pieces, which they threw down in the
cabin, inviting the others to take what
they pleased. The money rolled and
jingled about on the floor, while the two
weeping women explained that they were
returning home to enjoy the fortune
which they h&d made in California, and
that they would be beggars if the ship
was lost. None of the women dared to
take more than two pieces of gold lest it
might weigh them down.
The men still remained at their work,
saying that they would remain on board
until another ship arrived, as the Marine
could not take all the passengers, and
the women and children must be saved
first. Among those heroes was Billy
Birch, the famous minstrel.
Two of the lifeboats were smashed by
the sea, but three boats were filled with
women and children, many of the latter
being infants. The last boat to leave
carried the chief engineer. He solemnly
promised the captain to return, but the
moment he got into the boat he drew a
knife and threatened to kill any one who
followed him. Later on, when the wom
en and children were put on board the
Marine, the chief engineer, like the cow
ard and liar he was, refused to return.
Now the sinking steamship was so low
in the ocean that almost every wave
swept her deck. Some of the passengers
got into the rigging, while others tried
to bnild a raft. Night came on. The
storm continued to rage. The ship quiv
ered and careened. Rockets soared up
into the bellowing, angry heavens. Slow
ly the vessel filled with water, and the
doomed host clinging to her deck and
rigging prepared for death. There was
no weeping and no shrieking, no wring
ing of hands. The captain stood at the
wheel to the last.
All at once the ship, as if in an agony j
of death herself, made a plunge at an
angle of 45 degrees, and with an appall- '
ing shriek from the engulfed mass she j
disappeared, and nearly 500 human be
ings were left struggling among the
fierce waters. The scene was horrifying, i
and many who were saved afterward
fainted at the mere memory of it.
A few held on to planks and spars all
through the wild night, and as the day
broke the Norwegian bark Ellen arrived j
and picked up 49 of the men.
“I was forced out of my course just |
before I met you,” said the captain of
the Ellen to the rescued passengers,
“and when I altered my course a bird
flew across the ship once or twice, and
then darted into my face. A few min
utes later the bird repeated its move
ments. I thought it an extraordinary
thing, and while thinking on it in this
way the mysterious bird reappeared, and
for the third time flew into my face. 1
This induced me to alter my course back j
to the original one, and in a short time 1
heard noises in the sea and discovered j
that I was in the midst of shipwrecked !
people.”
Who shall say what power guided the |
flight of the frail messenger through the ■
stormy air?—New York Herald.
KRISS KRINGLE.
A Corruption of the Words Christ Child
Now Applied to Santa Claus.
In these days Kriss Kringle is looked
upon as an alternative name for Santa
Claus; but, in fact, he is, etymologic
ally and historically, a totally different
being, though the two personages have
been welded into one in the popular
imagination. A very email knowledge
of German reveals the fact that Kriss
Kringle is simply a corruption of the
word “Christkindlein,” or Christ child,
whose connection with the Christmas
festival is too obvious to need explana
tion. But what seems inexplicable ;s
how the Christ child of the past, the
Holy One, whose nativity i.; the subject
of commemoration in that feast which
we call Christmas, should have evolved
into the white hairsd. white bearded,
merry hearted and kindly old pagan
whom we call indifferently Kriss Kringle
or Santa Claus.
Yet at the very moment when we have
come face to face with this apparently |
insoluble paradox we have reached the
solution which seemed impossible when
we strove to understand the much less
startling transformation of St. Nicholas
into Santa Ciaus.
We remember that the Christmas fes
tival of today is a gradual evolution
from times that long rrt' 1 the
Christian period; turn l..uugi. it cele
brates the mightiest fact in the history
of Christendom it was overlaid upon
heathen festivals, and many of its attend
ant observances are mere adaptations of
pagan to Christian ceremonial.
This was no mere accident. It was a
necessary measure at a time when the
new religion was forced ou a deeply
superstitious population. In order to
reconcile heathen converts to the new
faith and to make the wrenching of the
old ties as painless as possible these rel
ics of paganism were preserved under
modified externals, exactly as the an
tique columns were transferred from an
cient temples to adorn the Christian ba
silicas.
In course of time, as the idea of mun
dane merriment rather than religious
sanctification at the period of Christmas
became the predominant one. St. Nicho
las or Santa Claus lost his asceticism, be
came ruddier, jollier, more rubicund in
aspect, while the Christ child faded
more and more into the background, un
til at last the very name of the latter
under the slightly different form of
Kriss Kringle was transferred to his
successor.—Selected.
Yuletitle Superstitions.
While traveling at Christmas time in
the old English county of Devon a few
years ago, I found it peculiarly affluent
in these odd Christmas superstitions and
customs. Every family I visited pro
vided, if able to afford them, a “Yule
cheese” and a “Yule cake” for the
Christmas season, and it is considered
very unlucky to cut them before Christ
mas day.
The same superstition prevails with
regard to the “Yule candle”—a very tall
one specially provided—and the “Yule
dog” or log—a large stick for the Christ
mas fire. Misfortune is regarded as
certain to follow if either candle or log
is lighted until just as the family are
sitting down to supper on Christmas
eve, and it is also considered a sure pre
cursor of evil for any one to stir the log
or snuff the candle during the progress
of the meal.
On Christmas morning no member of
the family must stir out of the house
until its threshold has been crossed by
the footsteps of some male outsider. If
a woman or girl is the first to enter on
Christmas morning, ill luck is sure to
follow. Another Devonshire supersti
tion is that if the sun shines brightly at
noon ou Christmas day there will be a
plentiful crop of apples in the succeed
ing summer.—Buffalo Express.
Tli© Christmas Stocking*
A jolly device to take the place of the
tree is a big stocking with its top held
open by a circle of wire. The stocking
is made of striped calico or any available
stuff and must be big enough to hold all
the gifts, which are to be done up stout
ly in pasteboard and paper. Each is tied
with twine, and a long end is left. A tag
is fastened to each string bearing the
name of the one for whom the package j
is destined. Then all the packages are j
put into the stocking. When it is time j
for the distribution, each must find a j
string with his or her name on it and ,
take hold. At a given signal all pull at :
once.
The fun will be increased if it be the '
rule that no one can get a gift except by
pulling at the string, and that no one
must use the hands to disentangle
strings. It would perhaps be better to
put in only one gift for each person at
one time. Then, when all have got their
packages, a second batch is arranged;
then a third and so on.
A big horn of plenty, suspended so the
gifts can be easily drawn out by strings,
is a slight variation of this suggestion.
If preferred, in either case the strings
may be pulled one by one by a single
person who has been chosen giftmaster.
—New York Press.
Christmas Bells.
How many memories gather round the sound
Of bells, those silver monitors to us!
Whilom they peal dire dangers, and the
ground
Trembles to tramp of feet fear furious;
Whilom they toil above some burial mound.
Again, they summon souls to praise or prayer;
They mingle in with music when it plays
Melodious, so that ail of life seems fair.
Or tinkle dimly in the covert ways
Where wethers iead the flock that is their care.
Whilom at sea they hoarsely boom, and fright
The good ships from the rocks; on land they
tell
The time o’ day by morning, noon and night.
Chime o’er the sleeping city, all is well.
Or bid the folk be up with early light.
But where be bells so buoyant, sweet and
strong
Upon the air as these of Christmas time?
So fraught with precious meanings is their
song.
So swelling with a hope and joy sublime.
Christ’s bells, to you all benisons belongl
—Richard Burton.
Every Man whose watch
has been rung out of the bow
(ring), by a pickpocket,
Every Man whose watch
has been damaged by drop
ping out of the bow, and
Every Man of sense who
merely compares the old pull- ]
out bow and the new
will exclaim: “Ought to have
been made long ago! ”
Itcan’t betwistedoffthecase.
Can only be had with Jas. Boss
Filled and other cases stamped
with this trade mark
Ask your jeweler for pamphlet.
keystone Watch Case Co..
Philadelphia.
I
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Used In the best stables and recommended by
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23T“500 PAGE BOOK on treatment and careof
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Corner William and John Sts.. New York.
A NARROW ESCAPE!
How it Happened.
The following remarkable event in a lady’s
llfewillinieresttlie reader: “Fora long time I
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Its effect In my caso has been truly marvel
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Pottsviile, Pa., October 12,18K2.
Dr. Miles’ New Heart Cure is sold on a posi
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Miles Medical Co., Elkhart, Ind., on receipt of
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Dr. Hathaway,
n.u-wS!SSS^““
In HI* line.
Private. Blood, Skin and Nervous Diseases.
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Catarrh, and Diseases of the Skin, Blooa,
Heart, Liver and Kidneys.
Syphilis. The most rapid, safe and efTecuve
treatment A complete cure guaranteed.
Ml In Diseases of all kinds cured where many
Others have failed.
Unnatural Discharges promptly cured In a
few days. Quick, sure aud safe. This includes
Gleet and Gonorrhoea.
MY METHODS.
1. Free consultation at the office or by mail
2. Thorough examination and careful diagnosis.
'£ That each patient treated gets the advantage
of special study and experience, and a
specialty is made of his or her disease.
4. Moderate charges and easy terms of payment.
A home treatment can be given in a majority
of cases.
&cnd for Symptom Blank No. 1 for Men.
No. 2 for Women.
No. 3 for Skin Diseases.
Send 10c for 64-page Reference Book for Men
and Women.
All correspondence answered promptly. Bus
iness strictly confidential. Entire treatment
sent free from observation. Refer to banks in St.
Joseph and business men. Address or call on
• J. N. HATHAWAY, M. D.(
Corner 6th and Edmond Sts.. St. Joseph. Me*
: Ripans Tabules are com- f
| pounded from a prescription |
* widely used by the best medi- j
\ cal authorities and are pre- j
t sented in a form that is be- j
* coming the fashion every- j
: where. t
: Ripans Tabules act gently
: but promptly upon the liver,
• stomach and intestines; cure
; dyspepsia, habitual constipa
j tion, offensive breath and head
1 ache. One tabule taken at the ;
: first symptom of indigestion, ;
: biliousness, dizziness, distress :
: after eating, or depression of
: spirits, will surely and quickly
| remove the whole difficulty.
I ' -
: Ripans Tabules may be ob
f tained of nearest druggist.
1
: Ripans Tabules
• are easy to take,
; quick to act, and
save many a doc
bill.
i i
i *
< i \
i—^—————————
WE TELL YOU
nothing new when we state that it pays to engage
in a permanent, most healthy and pleasant busi
ness, that returns a profit for every day’s work.
Such is the business we offer the working class.
We teach them how to make money rapidly, and
guarantee every one who follows our instructions
faithfully the making of $300.00 a month.
Every oue who takes hold now and works will
surely and speedily increase their earnings; then
can he no question about it; others now at work
are doing it, and you, reader, can do the same
This is the best paying business that you have
ever had the chance to secure. You will make a
grave mistake if you fail to give it a trial at once.
If you grasp the situation, and act quickly, you
will directly find yourself in a most prosperous
business, at which you can surely make and save
large sums of money. The results of only a few
hours* work will often equal a week’s 'wages.
Whether you are old or young, man or woman, it
makes no difference, — do as we tell you, and sue
cess will meet you at the very start. Neither
experience or capital necessary. Those who work
for us are rewarded. Why not write to-day for
full particulars, free ? E. C. A ELEN & CO.,
Box No. 4*40, Augusta, 3Ie.
Kpm
• GrtoVIR
Root/?
«1ZJH
« is an agreeable Laxative for the Bowels;
can be made into a. Tea for use in one minute.
Price 20c., 60c. anti Sl.oO per trackage.
Igffo Wft Elegant Toilet Powoeh
-kS-w Saw for the Teeth and Breath—25c.
I(or sale by McMillen, Druggist.
if ^’PHOTOGRAPHSM^f
» R«&E SILK HANDKERCHIEF. I
t *»■.«-£ wnl aV." 0.*er “jOr.VJrSr'jJ’]
t JSrss*, sssjt* r..
t PHOTO B,llrt»c.,0..t. .uUJ
k ■ . STUDIO 313-51-17 S.l5lh.0MAH0j
