'Wfl'JUi
v-1 ' vTSrus m
..nTHEtroUJRIER.
K
M
af-
'
HA
S.".
"V
,r ,
'fcwV
.i
plenty faler vant to self me old, horses,
uddor filer vant' to sell. me oldnidlo'
and deta machine faler vant 'to pefl me'
plenty farm machine, but A all time
stick to'des moany, .Veil, A .make me"
nuff moany to buy eighty acre. Den A
make me little more moany and. buy
me udder nighty. Den A make nio
Ieetle more money and buy me udder
eighty again. Den ila be plenty faler"
comeiround ha.liketo seJLme joamting
fur des moany, but A all time keep
des moany and buy me udder eighty.
Now A get me five eighty an Ieetle
moany too."
"Veil," said Karl, "you got five eighty
now, des make four hundred acre, A
tink des farm been plenty big. Vat
skall you do now mit des moany in
dem bank?"
Sheepskin again turned his grey eyes
on Karl and puffing the smoke out
quietly remarked, "A skall keep des
moany nowJfext.falLA buy me udder
eighty."
ON THE OTHER SIDE.
(Written for The Cocboek by C. Y. Smith.)
No i
anlighturitil they disappeared under
thejjloontlj; arch of London bridge.
What's the Use of goings to London
urileesyou can see the fog? The fug
.has-mado her world known and wo want
Jo see it. No, London is not what it is
cracked op to bo. Another thing, it is
"only ten miles square. Chicago is near
ly twice as large. London has
about four million population; but what
does-tbat amount to? It is acres we are
after, land, real estate; that's what
counts. We don't want so many human
beings all hiiddled together in a little
small place ten by ten, with harJly space
enough to turn around. Wo believe n
room, air space, fertile lands and a
chance to drink in the sunlight and
luxuriate in the graces of untrammeled
nature. And if the city is
not large enough tj hold
all we can drive stakes way out in the
suburbs, the country, and make room;
room for everybody. No, London is
"N. G.," as an entirety.
The first day, I went down to West
minster Abbey. You have all seen
pictures of it. It is really quite a
building.but it is not nearly as taUasour
Washington monument,
Highest of all in Leavening Power. Latest U.S. Gov't Report
im
Baking
Powder
ABSOLUTELY PURE
London, July 2. Everybody has heard
of London. Everybody has some trind
of an idea what it is like. One expects
to see there much out of the ordinary;
something altogether different from our
own cities. But you don't see it; that
Is in its general aspect. At least I
didn't. When standing in the busy
streets I could easily imagine I was in
Boston. Sly first impression caused
me to say "Is this London? Can it be
that this is the great city of the world?"
To be sure there were the thousands of
cabs to be seen everywhere, darting
about, across here and across there, and
some standing in long rows in the mid
dle of the streets waiting to be called.
And there were the great omuibusses
slowly rumbling along, top heavy with
passengers. And there were the little
urchins running in between the many
teams with shovel and broom in hand,
cleaning the refuso from the street
whenever an opportunity occurred.
And then there were the thousand and
one chimney tops covering the roofs of
the buildings, in countless variety of
size. And then there were the narrow
streets bending in every direction, so
that the view at best was a short one.
.but there was nothing strikingly odd in
these things. They were not sufficient
in themselves to call forth expressions
of awe and wonder. The narrow side
walks were crowded with pedestrians,
but there was not the shove and push
we encounter in Boston or Chicago.
Cabs, 'busses and teams were there
without numher, but they are seen
in our great cities, though we don'thave
the "London cab." London is full of
them, like bees in a hive. A
mere beckon with your hand brings
to your service more than you can use
.at one time.
Tell you what it is, I was disappointed,
throughly so. I expected to find things
so different. Most of all I wanted to see
the celebrated London fog. But there
was none there; absolutely none; not
even a symptom. The sun shone
brightly all the time and the ripples of
the water of the Thames sparkled in the
too. It is said to have been founded
by Sebert in the 6th century. But you
can truly say of it, it is nothing lees than
an old grave yard. Every square stone
slab in its floor is a tomb-stone. Every
nook and every corner is filled with
some departed person who long ago
shook off this mortal coil and returned
to dust.
Grave yards are gloomy affair? and
who wants to spend his time around
one, now? He will have plenty of time
to make investigations there later or,.
Life is too seldom these dayB to waste
it in a grave yard. But all tourists
must see this gray old pile, so let's go in.
The abey is two hundred by three
hundred and seventy-five feet, and
contains the tombs of twenty-eight
kings and queens, to say nothing of fl
multitude of others of lesser note.
The royal families are put in tombs,
but tho common mortal is laid to rest
under a cold, cold slab where he listens
on forever to the constant patter of foot
steps overhead.
In order to go through tho abbey
properly we enter through the west
door and pass along the south aisle till
we come to the "Poets Corner." This
the great god mother of two queens
named Elizabeth, and mother Margaret
Queen of Scots, and aunt Mury, Queen
ot France, and cousins Mary and
Elizabeth, and all the rest of tho family
and their children and the Lord only
knows how many more. There aro all
there, but dead, dead as Dickens says of
Marley, "dead as a door nail."
Along a little farther underneath a
tomb lies Mary Queen of Scots, and
beyond, under a Blab, Prince George ot
Denmark. When there is no room left
in the tomb or in the wall they put
them under these cold and barren slabs.
They had to die early to get a tomb.
One part of the chapel is called tho
It's an old thing Nave. This was founded in 1502 by
Henry VII. who designed it for a Royal
Sepulchre. Lord Bacon calls it "One of
the stateliest and daintiest tombs in
Europe.' Tho stone ceiling with its
fan tracing and its marvellous penden
tives is considered the special glory of
the cbapel. It certainly is
and much can be said as to
that ho mot with in these several regions
of tho dead. He adds "I could not but
look upon theso registers of existenco,
whether of brass or ot marble, as a kind
of satyr upon tho departed p'rsons who
had left no other memorial of them but
that thoy were born and that tlToy died."
They put me in mind of several per
sons mentioned in heroic poems, who
have founding names given them, for no
other reason than that thoy may be
killed, and aro celebrated for nothing
but being knocked on the head."
But in all England there is not one
opot of more interest, one object ot
greater veneration than the great inter
ior, gray and crumbling with ago, of
Westminster Abbey.
Just across the way, on tho banks ot
the Thames, are the great parliament
houses, to which admission may bo had
on Saturday upon application at tho
office ot the Lord Great Chamberlain, at
the south end of Victoria tower. These
very clever are interesting, not only Historically out
the artistic also architecturally. They are the most
arrangement of the interior; but con
sider the numberles dead. Beneath
the center of one chapel are 5 coffins.
Henry VII. and Elizabeth lie beneath
their effigies, carved on a tomb of black
marble, lying in robes ot state, enclosed
in a highly ornamented chantry of
brass.
But let's pass on from these several
regions of the dead to the chapel of
Edward the Confessor. This is a vast
burying ground itself. But there is one
thing 1 wish to mention and that is the
Coronation Chair of Edward I. It is an
ugly and uncomfortable piece of royal
furniture, but beneath is a stone called
tho 'Scone" which was regarded as an
emblem of Scottish power. Now you
will all remember Jacob, his ladder, and
his dream, and how he rested his head
on a pillow ot stone. This is the same
stone. Around are a lot of chairs and
is a regular jam of statuary, monuments .swords. We now pass through the
and tombs. Shakespeare has a mon
ument here. Spencer, Johnson, Chaucer
and Garrick are buried underneath the
stone floor. They put Charley Dickens
under a slab and marked his name on
it. There are a great many more and
they are in thick. Too thick for
comfort. As we leave the "Poets
Corner" we pass through a series of
small chapels, St. Benidict's chapel and
St. Edmund's chapel, St. Nicholas'
chapel and so on, seven in all. There
are multitudes of people buried here,
and menuments till you can't count
them. Dukes and duchesses, and counts
and nobles and Bulwer Lytton, Lady
Jane Gray's moth :r, James Watt and
others.
Next we enter Henry Seventh's
chapel at the extreme east end ot the
abbey. In the south aisle lies Lady
Margaret Douglas, ore of the most
titled ladies of England. Then there is
north transept, with more of the same,
down the north aisle by the grave ot
"O Rare Ben Johnson" still under a
slab, and we pass out into the sunny
street, with not a sign of fog anywhere.
And this is Westminster Abbey. It is
old, centuries old, and for a grave yard
is extremely interesting.
But it has its romantic and sentimental
aspect which is strongly apparent to tho
sombre student when he fleet enters
under its gray portals. The mu&ic of
the organ resounding from the Gothic
arches reaches the tender chords of his
heart and the massive stone pillars and
tho quiet solemnity that prevails fill his
his mind with a kind of melancholy or
rather thoughtfulness that is not dis
agreeable. Addison says he passed a whole
afternoon in the church yard, the clois
ters, and the church amusing himself
with the tombstones and inscriptions
extensive Gothic structuees in tho
world. 'lhey cover eightacresof ground
and contain five hundred rooms and
several courts.
We pass first through tho Norman
porch, the royal robing room, tho royal
gallery, the princes' chamber, into the
bouse of lords. Murray says, "This is
one of the richest rooms in tho world."
The throne of tho sovereign is between
the entrance dorways and is covered
with a gilded canopy. One is tempted
to rest there fora moment butthe guard
says "yield not." On tho right is tho
chair of tho Prince of Wales and on the
left the chair ot tho sovereign's consort.
The somber splendor of tho great hall
is a most pleasing memory.
We pass on through the peer's lobby
and corridor t tho central hall in which
are statues of all the sovereigns. Then
to the common's corridor and house of
commons.
Wo return to central hall and then
pass through St Stephens into the large
Westminster hall. This was built in
1097 by William Rufus and is the chief
theatre of the great law history of
Engl'ind. Here Richani II was de
posed, Cromwell inaugurated Lord
Protector, Charles I condemned, and here
was heard the great trial of Warren
Hastings. It was the scene of a host of
other matters of English history which
I can't take time to mention.
We pass out the great door and stand
in the street with a head full of sights
knowing hardly which way to turn.
We take a "bus to Regents park to see
the Albert Memorial statue. A glorious
work, a costly pile. But when wo
return to the hotel and realize we are in
London, we aro disappointed. We want
to see the fog.
Waverly wheels at Curtice Co's.
IsADIBS PREFBR NOVELTIES
TO
..
..'
i Hk
RELIABLE" GAS STOYES,
..t.tta tv. r . nAT-niTi r, m-v-rr-n
11H.1j1A.BJjI!. IxASUlillAH. SJ.UV.EjS,
SIBERIA REFRIGERATORS,
BUT THEY ARE THE PERFECT ARTICLE AS WELL
FRAXK LVAHR has them
and takes pleasure in exhibiting their peculiar adaptability.
ncvjywc
"'
"Tt.
