Democratic Sentinel, Volume 20, Number 29, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 July 1896 — Page 6

WHEN SCHOOL CLOSES

THE EVENT OF THE YEAR IN COUNTRY DISTRICTS Everybody Looks Forward to It wvsn Keenly Joyful Expectations—Even the Stern Teacher Divests Himself sf His Mich of Austerity. The Last Day. No day was so great as the last day »f school Three months of study seemed eternally long. Looked forward to

from the beginning of the term it seemed a simply impossible distance. No pupil's conception could leap across these interminable days, weeks, months and ages and distinguish the end of the term. Children grew skeptic, and felt sure there was nothing but the present ever had been, and could not be. Last day’s of

SA ILOR BOY'S DREAM.

school were dreams and fictions, or like the morals in the reading lessons. And as the days of embittering work Trent by how firm a hatred of the teacher grew up in each child’s heart. It was n certain thing he showed partiality. Me couldn't work all the examples in the arithmetic, for John Rhinehart •flatted him” on one in partial payments. He made a mistake in grammar, and said Hartford was on the Kennebec River. He made Jenny Drake sit with the boys, when her mother forbade his ever doing such a tiring, and he flogged Jimmy Thompson unmercifully. But just wait until Jimmy's big brother comes home. There arc good days and bad—mostly the latter. Lessons are broken off in something like rations, and each day’s “stint" has to be done, for the class has Btarted to get through the book, and there is no time to halt by the wayside. Pupils who cannot keep up must pretend they are keeping up. The class cannot be held back for them. The gait of the fastest is the gait of the school. There was no grading as there is now. •nd there was no semblance of an examination. The teacher achieved a post of tolera-

tlon. Of course he was wrong, and to T»e spoken ill of at all being fixed, pupils might safelytreat him with cordiality now and then, and yet not imperil their standing in the school. It might eyen be admitted of him, indeed, that he was, in some respects, not much worse than the last winter’s incumbent. One thing inhis favor was his ability as a ball player. Never was a teacher in the schoolhouse Could throw * bgll as straight as this man, and none could catch as well,, either, come to think. And he did write a good hand, to be sure, and could explain some things. Besides, he did not act decent •taut the treats at Christmas. For it has taken somewhat more than half the |erm to work this grudging transformation. There is no retreating, ■understand, from the settled position that this teacher is simply bearable—no more. Ke is yet much the worsft from all points of view hungup hjs that in the schoqUiqusqi .Heys yet the common enemy. ,v, ~ 5; ( g

And lusfe here tedmes talk, of the last day of'schoOfc tWB-girls-begin it, with their plans'exhibition.” The talk jgrows. it .topsnines part' the time of study and a good many tyouns at home. The nearer the end of the term the more fully is study McriflCed to-preparatio»>for the last day of school "Clearly It cannot be subordinated tp,anything. Much as he Is disliked, the teacher is solicited to aid, •nd fitting as:refusal would, have been to his established character, his acquiescence is received with applause. The weather gets warmer as “the last 4tay*’ approaches. Indeed, one or two •f the larger boys have had to quit go to work on the farm. It to almost time to. b^in, spring plowing. The big girls come to school with something comely relieving the monotony •f their winter frocks.’. The little boys, ;who know no tffitfioritytijad-fcannot see •nd lay bands upon them, go barefoot •t recess and have the audacity to live. Some little girl finds a wood violet and brings it to the teacher, and he accepts it gratefully, biit 6almly. ft recurs ♦e the opinion-makers that since the tost day of school is so'ncSif tHere is no •red correcting the little girl for her And then comes the last week, and It •Mltto away a day at a time—and “tomorrow is the tart day of school.” To•afww corned, fair and full of a vernal The schoolhouse was never so

clean. Big boys scrubbed It last night and big girls hung evergreen and dogwood bloom and red bud all about the windows. 4MI the teacher's desk. Is a bower of beauty. Every pupil is there very early on the last day of school, dressed in his best ami bringing the little children—those too young to pay the regular price for the joys of a “last day.” Several guests come from’Other schools, escorted by pupils of this. The house is very full all the morning. The teacher is dressed very much the same. Of course. What more could be expected? Sometimes they would have a teacher—if So-and-so had got the school, instead of this teacher—or if such a teacher as this guest tells about had been employed here. But there isn't muph study or recitation in the forenoon. And at “recess"

“THE DEFENSE OF CATALINE.”

! the big boys who had left far the spring I work drop around and conclude to stay. The noon Intermission Is uncommonly long. It begins rather before the usual time and i» is unaccountably extended. Every one does have such an excellent time playing, and the day is so delightfully warm! Then come the exercises—“the exhibition.” The big girls have a curtain stretched across the end of the room and behind it isrimpenetrable mystery. There are a few lessons on drilled topics. so that parents may be proud of children who answer wonderful things correctly. And when that is done the curtain rises and “Miss Clarissa Pip-

A ONE-ACT DRAMA IS PLAYED.

pinger” recites “Stay, Jailer, Stay,” receiving a very formidable applause when she bows aud signals the curtain to go down. Benny Collins recites “The Sailor Boy’s Dream,” Kate Calloway and Norah Hattery sing “QJi, Come, Come Away,” as a duet, and'Joflg John Smith thunders through tfye'defense of Cataline. ■' Sandwiched in between the big people are ekercises from all the little youngsters, whose mothers—whose fathers, too, i>ossibly—are present, and a one-act drama is presented to the entire satisfacUon of the audience—and Duse can don# more than that. And, then, somehow or other, *when the last “song of the school” has been sung, when the curtain has been lifted

ADUET, “OH! COME, COME AWAY.”

and lowered for the last time, when there Is a sense of grounding this side of port—that unspeakable teacher Is up and talking. For the first time the sense of pupils takes in this larger fact. “Last day of school” means a severance pf ties, a farewell to some things that were pleasant, a loss of this man—and "It is a loss. It must be, for looking back from this height not a thing can be recalled wherein he did wrong. On what

i basis sat the framework of his bad character no one can see, for not a ' memory there retains a chatge against ; him. He is crying a little himself. The women are all crying because their children are crying to see him cry. And the men are altogether serious. The big boys blow their noses to hide the rise of tears, and the big girls dry their eyes very daringly. There is a luncheon spread all over the desks and benches later, and from wagons hitched along the road outside come baskets full of country dainties. There is an abundance of honest cheer. The windows and doors are open, for the afternoon is so warm. And then come farewells, when the teacher shakes hands with boys who have hated him bitterly all winter—boys who cordially honor him now; when he just misses being tender in his good-by to the girls; when he finally rounds out the work with mingled grief and pleasure, locks the door, gives the key to the director, watches the bundles of books and bundles of pupils tread slowly away, hearts big with the greatness of “the last day of school,” and then turns from the whole picture forever.

Modern schools have added many features the old system needed. No doubt there are better results from graded work, since the books say so. But there is no last day of school so stupendous in its interest, so sweet to erase antipathies, so strong to weld friendships, as the last day of school which has drifted one-third of a century into the past. vs course examinations are good things, since all the teachers have them, but they do not lend a gracious blessing to the last day of school. They spill a drop of bitterness into the pupil’s cup of bliss on this final day of a long companionship, and they make promotion very dearly purchased. Of course they are good. Of course they are right. That is conceded by every teacher’s institute in forty commonwealths. But that, or the city style, or stage effects, or a decorous absence on the part of parents or a promised departure on the part of the teacher has deprived creation of its “last day of school.”

Our Consular Service.

“The consular service Is the practical and business side of our foreign intercourse,” writes ex-l*resident Harrison in the Ladies’ Home Journal. “There are more than twelve hundred persons in the consular service of the United States. These are located in

the Important commercial cities and towns of the world, and are described generally as Consuls General, Consuls, commercial agents, interpreters, marshals and clerks. The duties of a Consul are various and multifarious. He is the protector and guardian of American commerce; provides for destitute American sailors and sends'them home; he takes charge of the effects of American citizens dying in his jurisdiction, having no legal representative; he receives the declaration or protests of our citizens in any matter affecting their rights; he keeps a record of the arrival and departure of American ships and of their cargoes, and looks after vessels wrecked; he reports any new inventions or improvements in manufacturing processes that he may observe, and all useful information relating to manufactures, population, scientific discoveries, or progress In the useful arts, and all events or facts that may affect the trade of the United States, and authenticates invoices and statements of the market value of merchandise to be shipped to the United States. Every Consulate is a commercial outpost; and if the service could be given permanence of tenure, and a corps of men of competent equipment, it would become a powerful agency in extending our commerce.” ’

His Brother Was Deaf.

A millionaire railway king has a brother who is hard of hearing, while he himself is remarkable as 'kaving a very prominent nose. Once the railways .Hng dined at a'friend’s house, when he sat between two ladles, who talked to him very loudly, rather to his annoyance? but he said nothing. Finally one of them shouted a commonplace remark, and then said in an ordinary tone to the other: “Did you ever see such a nose in your life?” “Pardon me, ladies,” said the millionaire, “It’s my brother who Is deaf.” Imagine the horror of the lady.

Poisonous Serpents.

A great many people fall into the error of considering that all or nearly aH of the different species of snakes are poisonous. The very latest estimate made by the naturalists is that there are 657 varieties of them on the globe Of that number 490, or over two-thlrda of the whole lot, are as harmless as rabbit*

MARK HANNA'S BIG JOB.

Some or the Thinga Demanded of a Campaign Director. In accepting the chairmanship of the Republican National Committee Mark Hanna has undertaken a big job. He will be one of the busiest men in the country during the next four months. Fortunately he is of robust constitution. One of the chief duties of the campaign manager is to raise a campaign fund. The greater part of the million dollars used in a national campaign belongs to the national campaign fund and is distributed by the national chairman. It is sent to the States where it is most needed and the national chairman must exercise good judgment in the distribution >f It, If the party is to achieve the best results. In a great many campaigns coney has been spent uselessly in one

MARK HANNA.

State and withheld from another State where it would have doue the party good. In several States there is an elaborate system of canvassing' and keeping a record of the doubtful voters. This work is collected by townships and then is entered In a large book for the guidance of the State committee. The committee compiles a list of the doubtful voters who may be 10,000 or even 20,000. To all these campaign literature is sent and after a time a man is assigned to see each of them and argue with him the necessity of vofiug the Republican ticket. All of this involves a great deal of expense. The missionaries as a rule do not labor for nothing, and the clerical work is costly. There are traveling expenses, the hire of horses'and vehiAes to di*. e through the country, stationery and printing and postage. All these expenses are legitimate and necessary for tfie conduct of a systematic campaign. Then there are the expenses of campaign orators who receive In some cases also large salaries. Finally, there are campaign writers. For the national committee and the State committee as well keep on their pay rolls many trained newspaper men. who furnish editorials to the press for the benefit of the party in the campaign. There are other vses of money not so legitimate, but .ecognized in doubtful States as- necessary to one party because the other party adopts them. The national chairman also lias charge of the candidate and regulates to a certain extent his conduct and travels and no letters are given to the public by the candidate without consulting with the manager.

JUDGE LYMAN TRUMBULL.

The Distiniruißhed Jurist Was Termed “America’s Gladstone." Judge Lyman Trumbull, who recently passed away at his home in Chicago, was fortunate and honored in life. He was contemporary with the beglning and the end of the great anti-slav-ery contest. He saw that sorrowful time, so eloquently pictured and deplored by Webster, when States were dissevered, discordant, belligerent, and the land was rent with civil feuds and and drenched in fraternal blood, and he lived to see his country restored, regenerated and disenthralled, its flag floating over the land and over the sea, bearing on Its ample folds the blazing inscription, “Liberty and Union, Now and Forever, One and Inseparable.” In all this Lyman Trumbull bore a great and distinguished part. In a contest for the senatorship of Illinois he was elected over Mr. Lincoln, who withdrew In his favor, and five years later , he-was one of the fore-

JUDGE LYMAN TRUMBULL.

most advocates of Lincoln’s election to the Presidency. Then came the civil war and all the complicated questions growing out of it, and Senator Trumbull brought to the solution of those questions a sagacity, a knowledge of law and a dispassionate temper that made him the wisest of counselors and the most patriotic of statesmen. During the eighteen years of his senatorial tenure he was the peer of Sumner and Fessenden, of Grimes and of Seward, of Chase and of Wade. No man in all that famous catalogue of statesmen deserved better of his countrymen .than Lyman Trumbull’ ‘ • Judge Trumbull wasbornin Colchester. Conn., Oct. 12, 1313. , At the age of 20 he had charge of an academy at Greenville, Ga. In he was admitted to the bar of that State. He shortly thereafter removed to Illinois, and in IS4O was elected a representative in the Legislature; before the expiration of his term he was appointed Secretary of State and fulfilled the of the latter office for two years. Thereafter in the practice of his profession he soon became the peer of the most eminent lawyers in the State and, as a recognition of this fact, he was, in 1848, elected one of the justices of the Supreme Court of Illinois, and in 1852 was re-elected/for nine years. In 1853 he resigned frtjiu the supreme bench, and in the following year was chosen to represent his district tn Congress.

Before he had taken his seat the Legislature elected him United States Senator for six yeaje ffom March, 1853. He was re-elected in 1861 and again in 1367, making in all eighteen consecutive years’ service in the Senate. At the expiration of his term of service in the Senate he resumed the practice of his profession in Chicago. With no man in our public life to-day can Judge Trumbull he compared, but in intellectual force he may well be likened to England’s grand old man, William Ewart Gladstone. In 1843 Judge Trumbull was married to Miss Julia M. Jayne, of Springfield, who died in Washington in 1868. On Nov. 3, 1877, he married, in Saybrook, Conn., Miss Mary J. Ingraham. Six sons were born of the first union and two daughters of the last.

WILL WEAR SHORT SKIRTS.

Brooklyn Women Pledge Themselves to Reform Costume. > The first rainy day after the first Monday in October will be signalized in Brooklyn by the appearance of the Brooklyn Health Culture Club in t'aeir new “common sense” costumes. The club was organized only three weeks ago, with a charter membership of six well-known women. Already It has thirty-five members, and by the rainy day before mentioned it is expected that fully 150 Brooklyn society and professional women will have been enrolled. The object of the club is to set an example of hygienic living and sensiblo dressing. The President is E. Christine Lumsdon, the well-known portrait painter. Among the charter members are Mrs. Cornelia Hood, the lawyer; Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. Manning, all prominent In the Brooklyn social world. The meeting at which the organization was perfected was held in Mrs. Lumsdon's studio. It was mad? a rule that every member should pledge herself to wear, on all occasions, save those demanding conventional full dress, skirts short enough to clear the ground by at least three inches. For

E. CHRISTINE LUMSDON.

rainy or wet weather they have adopted a costume, consisting of bloomers or knickerbockers, a short skirt and leggings or boots, meeting the skirt at the knee. The waist is left to the pleasure of the wearer, and over all will be worn a light gossamer or mackintosh.

Curiosity Gratified.

When an innkeeper sets up a conundrum as a sign-board he must expect to have to answer a good many questions; but even the most enigmatic sign does not excuse such rudeness as a certain American traveler in Europe is said to have once perpetrated. The story, quoted in the Washington Post, is thus told by a Minnesota politician: I was traveling through England and Ireland on foot with a knapsack on my back, and in company with a facetious friend of mine named Morrison, and In our wanderings we came to an inn. It was late at night, but by the bright moonlight we were able to see that the sign bore a counterfeit presentment of two asses’ heads, with this not unfamiliar legend over the picture: When shall we three meet again? Wo stood for a moment gazing at it. Then Morrison went to the inner door and began thumping upon it with his cane, while the echoes rang through the house. I was just going to expostulate with him over his unseemly conduct when an upper window was thrown open, and the innkeeper thrust out his head, and in an indignant tone demanded what in the name of all the demons we wanted. “That's all right, old man. Don't got excited,” called up my friend in the most affable voice. “There are only two asses' heads on the sign, and I just wanted to see the other one.” And with that we started up the road.

Come in Handy.

She—Just look, dear. I bought 200 papers of tacks for 50 cents. He—What in thunder did you do that for? Thby are cheap enough, but what are we ever to do With 200 papers of tacks? . She—Why—ah—-oh! Maybe some day someliody you don’t like will get a bi* cycle.—lndianapolis Journal.

Had His Wisn.

The late Sir Henry Parkes, the Australian statesman, had a great opinion of his poetic gifts, and on one occasion, when addressing a Sydney meeting, he said: “I would ratner be known as a third-rate poet than as a first-rate politician.” Here he paused for breath and admiration, when “the man in the crowd,” seeing his opportunity, exclaimed in strident accents: “Well, and aren't you?”

Puzzle —Find the Fisherman.

If a man -will reduce his faults, he will find that at the same time he Is alsc reducing his expenses

PAMPAS GRASS PLUMES.

They Will Be Waved by Republicans Who Parade Thia Year. Mark Hanna, chairman of the National Republican Committee, has chosen as the emblem in the forthcoming campaign red, white, and blue pampas grass, both for interior decorations and as a standard to be carried in parades, at which functions he suggests that the pampas should be mounted fan shape on a staff. This is not the first time pampas grass has been employed as the emblem of the Republican party. It was adopted as such in the Republican National Convention of 1892. Pampas grass Is. properly speaking, a grass which covers the pampas of South America, but it is now cultivated all over California for the sake of its plumes, which are sold by florists for room decoration. The South American grass is quite hardy, and it* tufts are magnificent in appearance. The leaves ire fully si.vbr «ght feet long, and the flowering stems ten to fourteen feet high. The flowers are silvery white,

BUNCH OF PAMPAS GRASS GROWING.

and from eighteen inches to two feet long. The culture of these grasses and their preparation for the market form a considerable industry. Florists are thoroughly conversant with the valuable commercial qualities of pampas grass, and. most of the purveyors of flowers deal in it quite extensively. T<he demand.for pampas grass as an interior decoration is on the increase every year. The grasses are dried and colored for the market, and all that is left for the florists to do is their arrangements in making appropriate combinations. The great beauty of pampas grass is thought to reside in the plumes, or feathers, as they are sometimes called. These are abundant and fluffy, and fall in graceful streamers around the stems. The natural color of pampas grass is almost white, but rarely reaches the retailer In that guise. Mark Hanna has spoken for red, white and blue pampas grass, and red, white, and blue are likely to be the staple colors until election day.

SENATOR JOHN W. DANIEL.

Temporary Chairman of the Democratic National Convention. One of the most striking and In one sense most coinman ling figures at the Democratic convention at Chicago was Senator John W. Daniel, of Virginia, whom the free silver men in the convention made temporary chairman, thus refusing to accept the choice of the national committee, Senator David B. Hill. Senator Daniel was born in Lynchburg, Va., In 1842. He served in the

JOHN W. DANIEL.

Confederate army of Northern Virginia during the war and received a wound that has since been to him the source of constant pain. He was riding his horse when a cannon ball took away a portion of his thigh. He fell and’lay for some time In the midst of the battle until one of his own soldiers, who was alsp wounded, dragged him behind a log. There , the two lay together for more than hglf an hour with the bullets flying,,tjig.shells bursting and the battle going on all about them. When the fight was finished Daniel was carried to the hospital. The surgeon said he would die, but a section of the thigh bone was cut away and his youthful vitality was such that he recovered. He has to-day six inches of bone out of one of his legs, and still he manages to do good work, though he is in constant pain. After leaving the service he studied law and has practiced It since 1866. From 1869 to 1872 he served in the Virginia House of Relegates and from 1875 to 1881 in the State Senate. In 18T0 he .was a Democratic eleetor-at-large and was a member of the Democratic conventions of 1880 and 1888. He was a member of the Forty-ninth Congress and was elected to the United States Senate to'succeed William Mahone. He was re-elected and his present term of offleo will expire in Mat., Senator Daniel js one of the ablest speakers in the’ South and is called the silver-tongued orator. He has a remarkably striking and cultured face. -

His Previous Existence.

Gutherz—Look here. Zapfcr. do yon believe in the transmigration of souls ? Zapfer—No; do you? Gutherz—Most certainly I do; and I am thoroughly convinced that I was an ass at-the time I lent you that sso.—Salisbury Truth.

Her Temper.

“That Mrs. Naglet has the worst allround bad temper I ever knew.” “Yes, even her hair snarls!”—Cleveland Plaindealer. What is the difference between a geatleman of leisure and a loafer?

The Cream of Current

When the season opens we claim the flag. In June we’ve got nothing to say. In August of second place honors we brag. At the end we take what comes our way. —Philadelphia North American. “How did young Downey come by tho title of major?” “Why, easily enough. Don't you remember that liis father was a colonel?”—Judge. ' ■ “They say the bicycle is injuring art.” “Yes; the man vybo owns a good wheel can't waste his life spreading'paint on canvas.”—Chicago Record. Maude—Would you marry Freddy if he asked you to? only answer that by saying that be wouldn’t be single now were J so foolish. I • / t 1 “Ball one!” yelled tlje “Good eye!” shouted Chimmy. “Siril|aip’®e!” the umpire called. “Dat's ;h» odder eye,” explained Chimney.—lndianapolis Journal. jßiy****' Mabel —I understand that there were only square dances at Mrs. Flippit’s small and early. Maud—Yes; there wasn’t men enough to go round.— Judge. Mrs. Wiggles—Was that a good box cigars, Ephraim, that I bought for your birthday? Mr. Wiggles (craftily)—l never £aw a better box.—Somerville Journal. Spencer—They told me at your office that you were only one of the clerks. And you said you were a director. Ferguson—So I am. I address envelopes.— New York Herald. “Awful accident at Jones’ yesterday.” “So? I didn’t hear of it.” “Jones hit his thumb with the hammer and immediately exploded with rage, while his wife burst into tears.”—lndianapolis Journal. Bill the Biffer—What’s d’ object of dis organization uv yours, mister? Mission Worker—To rescue the fallen, mjr man. Bill the Biffer—Well, don’t talk ter me. I’m no bicyclist.—Roxbury Gazette. “Frederick,” said she, “don’t let the baly stand alone,” A Why, she’s old enough to learn to walk.” “Old enough to learn to walk! Why, she hasn’t even learned to ride a bicycle yet.”—Washington Star. “There is no use denying it,” said the young man, who uses slang indiscriminately. “Cholly Chuggins has wheels.” “Really?” said the girl from Boston. “What make are they?”—lndianapolis Journal.

Miss Prettie—Mr. Ryder is so entertaining! He seems to, have come in contact with so many people. Mr. Wheeler (viciously)—Yes, indeed. You should watch him on hjs bike.—New York Press. “I beg your pardon!” she exclaimed solicitously. “I didn’t mean to step on your foot.” “Lord bless you, miss,” returned the man in the blue drilling blouse, “I didn't know you did.”—Somerville Journal. “I understand you stood for a,whole hour in the doorway last night talking to the policeman, Katie?” “Shure, you wouldn’t have me sthand there for an hour and say nothin’, ma’am.:—Yonkers Statesman. “Her husband is a little bit wild, I hear.” “Well, I think he had aright to be, when he came home and foind she bad traded off his last summer suit for a lot of potted flowers, don’t you?”— Indianapolis Journal. “I shall have to give up goin; on the stage.” “Why so?” “My hair is coining out in handfuls.” “I din’t see what——” “Pretty soon my strainer will be unable to drag me the floor.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer. He—And did you call at Monte! Carlo while you were at Nice? She—Nd papa called on him, I believe, but fr<tu his disappointed appearance whence returned to the hotel, I think must have been out.—Public Opinion. Elsie—The report you heard About Edith’s engagement’’ must be t'ruL ‘l heard it from a number of persona. Ruth—From Whom? Tiisle—Well, ijiss Brown, Miss Jpnea Miss Robinion. Ruth—Oh,' I told them.—Brooklyn life. “How the'wind howls to-night!”>slid the melancholy boarder. “I, shouldn’t wonder if it had the toothache,” suggested Mr. Asbury Peppers. “Toothache?” “Yes. Have you never heart of the teeth of the gale?”—Cincinnati Enquirer. Slowman—There is one thing I feel glad of. AU the love letters I ever wrote to the widow are destroyed. Fligh—Are you quite sure of that? Slowman—Quite. You see, I never had the courage to send them to her.—New York Herald. A mother, trying to gpt her little daughter of 3 years old to sleep bne night, said: “Dora, why don’t you try to go to sleep?” "I am, trying,” she replied. “But you haven’t shirt your eyes.” “Well, can’t help it; dey cornea unbuttoned.’’—Answers. “May I be at liberty to quote you as indorsing the sentiment that the voice of the people is the voice of God?” asked the interviewer. “I would not like to enmurft myself to that sefitl'ment until after the convention,” answered the candidate.—lndianapolis Journal.,

First Horses in Alaska.

Dr. Walker, a prospector in'Alaska, took some horses up with him. At the first Indian village -he sight of the horses drove all. the dogs fowling Into the woods. The children dropped their rude playthings and fled crying into the huts. The men and women stood their; ground, although In wonder. After much inducement they were finally prevailed upon to approach the horses, and their wonder anew no bounds. After a girl gets man-led she queers the unmarried girls by looking tough when she comes dotyn tdwn.