Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 16 October 1887 — Page 2

THE XN"DIA!N"APOLlS JOURNAI, STJXDAY OCTOBER 16, 1SS7 PAGES.

Printed by Special Arrangement with Author Copyrighted by Associated Literary Press TEXAR'STEVENGE BY JULES VERNE. A Story of the American Civil War.

CHAPTER XXIX Continued. ZEBMAH AT WOEK. The Texars were f urous at Zermah's interruption. With the exception of Squambo, never before inee their childhood had a third person seen them together. And this person was their mortal enemy. Their first impulse was to hurl themselves at her and murder her, so as to Bare the secret of their double life. The child raised herself in Zermah's arms; and holding out her little hands, she cried: "I am afraid! I am afraid!" At a gesture from the two brothers Squambo Stepped roughly up to tba half-breed, took her by the shoulder, and pushed her back into her room and shut the door. Then Squambo returned to the brothers. Hia attitude told them they had only to command for him to obey. But the interruption had been to unexpected that it had troubled them mora than might be supposed. They seemed to consalt each other with a look. ( Zermah had thrown herself into a corner of the room, after laying the little girl on one of the beds. Her self-possession returned to her; and she went to the door to hear what was passing. In a moment her fate would probably be decided. But tbe Texars and Squambo bad just rone out of the hut, and were no longer within earshot. And this Is what they were saying: "Zermah must die." 'Sbe must! If she escapes, or if the federals get hold of her, we are lost! She must die!" "This momentr said Squambo. And knife in hand he had turned to go to the hut, when one of tbe Texars stopped him. "Wait," said be. "It will always be time enough to put Zermah out of tbe way; and we baTe need of her to take care of the youngster. Let us see first how we stand. A detachment of Northerners is now in the cypress grove. Let us take a careful look out round the lake, for there is no proof as yet that the detachment is coming tbis way. If it is coming we shall have time to get away; if it is not coming we can stop here and let it get deeper into the wilds f Florida, when it will be at our mercy. We shall bare time to muster tbe militia and cutoff the federal retreat. Some escaped from Kissixoere, but none will escape here." , This was obviously the best thing to do under tbe circumstances. A large number of Southerners were in the neighborhood only waiting for an opportunity to try a stroke at the federals. One of the Texars could go out and reconnoitre, and then they could decide either to remain at Carneral island or move off to Cape Sable. That could be done to-morrow, and Squambo could be trusted to take care of Zermah whatever might be tbe result of the exploration. "As for the child." said one of the brothers, "it is our interest to keep ber alive. She cannot have understood, as Zermah did, and may be the price of our ransom should one of us fall into the hands of Captain Howick. To get back bis daughter, James Burbank would accept any Ani1iltnn rn liV to imBOSB." 'If Zermah dies," said the Indian, "are you not afraid that the child will die too?" "No, sbe will be well looked after, and I can easily find an Indian woman to take tbe place of tbe half-breed." "Do so then! We must not have anything to fear from Zermah." "W1L whatever happens, we shall soon put her out of the way." And Zermah heard the brothers come back in tbe wigwam. What a night it was for the unhappy woman! She knew she was doomed, and yet she bad no thought for herself, but for Dy, who would thus be abandoned to the cruelty of these pitiless men. It was to their interest that the child should live, but when Zermah was gone would she survive? And the thought of thia returned to her so often and took such obstinate possession of her tbat she resolved to escape before Texar could separate her from tbe child. In tbe convereatiou she bad overheard, she had learned that one of the Texars and his companions was going to reconnoitre round the lake, evidently with the object of fighting the federal detachment should opportunity offer. Texar would therefore be away with all bis men, and his brother would remain on the island, so as, in the first place, not to be recognized, and, in tbe second, to watch the hut. Then was the time for Zermah to attempt her escape. Perhaps she might find a weapon of some sort, and in ease of surprise she would not hesitate to use is. The night went by. Vainly did Zermah listen for some sign amongUhe signs on the island of the arrival of Captain Howick and the capture of tbe Texars. A few minutes before daybreak the little girl awoke. Zermah gave her a few drops of water. ;Tben looking at her as if she would never see her again, she clasped her in her arms. At that moment had anyone entered to tear her away from her charge she would have defended herself with the fury of a wild beast being taken from her little ones. "What is the matter, Zermah?" asked the child. "Nothing nothing!" said the half-breed. "And mamma when shall we see her again?" "Soon," said Zermah; "to-day, perhaps! Yes, my dear! to day 1 bor e we are near ner " "And the men I saw to-night?" "Tbe men! Did you see tbeml" 'Yes, and they made me afraid." "But did you notice them? Did yon see how much they were alike?" "Yes." "Well, remember to tell your father and your brother that there are two brothers. Do you Understand? There are two brothers Texar, so alike that you cannot tell one from tbe other." "Will you tell them that, too?" asked the child. "Yes. I'll tell them so. But if I am not there jou must not forget it" "And why will not you be there?" aslced Dy, putting her arms around the half-breed's neck. "I shall be there, my dear, I shall be there! But if we go out, as we have a long way to go, ws must get something to eat. I will get you something." "And youF "I had something while you were asleep, and 1 am not hungry." The truth was that Zermah could not have eaten bad sbe tried, owing to the state of excitement sbe was in. As soon as tbe child had finished, Zermah puthr back on the herb couch and went to a gap among the reeds in a corner of the room; and thence she watched for an hour the scene outside. Preparations were being made for departure. Ote of Abe brothers, only one, was mustering tbe men tbat were to go into tbe cypress grove. The other, whom none of tb a men had seen, was sonceitled, either in the wigwam or in some Borner of the island. At least, so thought Zermah, who knew bow careful they were to bide the secret of their lives. And she thought to herself tbat this vther one bad been told off to keep watch on Dy and herself. And Zermah was not mistaken, as we shall soon see. fifty, were all mustered ready before the hot waiting fur orders. By about 9 o'clock they had

all entered the forest, the barge being only able to take some five or six at a time. Zermah saw them go off in small groups, and walk up tbe the other bank; but she could not see the surface of tbe water. Texar remained till the last, and then went off, followed by one of the dogs, whose instinct was to be made use off during the expedition. At a sign from his master the other hcund returned to the hut, as if he was to be the only guard. A few minutes afterward Zermah saw Texar move up the opposite bank, and stop for an instant to arrange his men. Then, with Squambo at their head, and accompanied by the dog, the men disappeared among the trees. Doubtless one of the negroes bad brought back the barge, so that no one could cross over to the island. But the half-breed did not see this. Sbe. however, hesitated no longer. Dy had just awoke. - "Come, darling," said Zermah. "Where?" asked the child. "There! Into the forest! Perhaps we shall find your father your brother! You are not afraid? "Not when you are with me." Then the balf-breed opened the door carefully. As she bad heard no noise in the hut, she supposed that Texar was not there. And she was right. She sought about for some weapon of defense. On tbe table was one of those large knives used

by the Indians when hunting. She picked it up and hid it under her clothes; and she took a little dry meat to last her for a few hours. But tbe time came for be.- to leave tbe wigwam. She looked out through the palisade in the direction of tbe channel. There was not a living creature in sight. Tbe half-breed tried to open tbe outer door. The dcor was chut from tbe outside, and would not give way. Then Zermah went back to the hut. There was only one thing to be done. That was to make use of the hole she had already half made in tbe wall of her sleeping-room. The work was easy. She bad only to use her knife to cut into tbe reeds and this she did with as little noise as possible. But if tbe hound tbat had not gone with Texar were to appear? Would he not throw himself on her and the child? There was, however, no time to hesitate. The bole was made large enough, and through it Zermah drew tbe child, whom she passionately embraced as she did so. Dy gave back kiss for kiss; sbe bad understood. It was necessary to escape through tnis hole. Zermah glided through and looked to the left, to the right, and listened. Not a soundcould she hear. But soon she heard the bark of a hound. It seemed to come from the west of the island. She picked np the child. Her heart beat ready to burst. Sbe could not thinfc she was safe until sbe was through the reeds on the opposite river bank. But to cross the hundred yards between the wigwam and the stream was the most critical part of tbe escape. There was a chance of her being seen either by Texar or by tbe slaves. Luckily, to the right of the hut was a thicket of aborescent plants and reeds, extending to the bank of the channel, ,a few yards only from the barge. Zermah entered the thicket. The plants opened to give passage to te fugitives, and closed behind them. The barking of the dog was heard no longer. Tbe way through the thicket -was not easy. There was a narrow path between the interlacing shrub. Zermah's dress waa in rags, and her bands were torn. Little did it matter so long as tne child was unharmed! The brave half-breed uttered no complaint, and although Dy often made acquaintance with tbe thorns, not a cry did she utter. Although the distance was short, about sixty yards at tbe outside, it took quite half e.n hour before the channel was reached. Zermah then stopped, and through the reeds she looked first at the wigwam, then at the forest. There was no one to be seon. On the other bank was no sign of Texar and.' his companions, who were a couple of miles or so away. Unless tbey met the Northerners they would not be back for some hours. But Zerman did not believe she had been left alone in the hut. It was not likely tbat one of too Texars bad gone off unseen and taken the dog with hira. Besides had not the half-breed heard tbe barking a proof tbat the hound was still prowling under the trees? Any momeut she might see one or the other appear. But if she made haste she might reach the cypress grove. While sbe watched the Spaniard's men in their journey from bank to bank, she had not been able to see the surface of tbe stream, and she supposed that the barge bad been brought bacK by one of tbe slaves. This was necessary for tbe safety of the wigwam, in case Captain Howick and his men defeated the Southerners. But if tbe barge was on tbe other side, so as to be ready to help in Texar s retreat? If it were not there would he not have to find another hiding place? But Zermah must have the barge to get across. She could not see it. Where could it be? For half a dozen yards she glided through the reeds. Then sbe stooped. The barge was on the other side of the channel. CHAPTER XXX. THE TWO BROTHERS. The position was critical. How could she cross? Tbe boldest swimmer could not do it without risking his life a score of times. There were but a hundred feet from bank to bank, but without tbe boat it was impossible to cross them. Triangular beads appeared every now and then above the surface of the water, and the weeds waved to let the reptiie pass. Little Dy, almost dead with fright, clung close to Zermah. If she could have saved the child by throwing herself into tbe thick of this crowd of snakes, who would have closed on to her like the arms of some giant octopus, the balf-breed would not have, hesitated for a moment! But only some special intervention of Providence could save her. And Zermah knelt and prayed for help. Any moment some of Texar's companions might appear on the edge of the forest. If the Texar remaining on tbe island went back to tbe wigwam and missed her, would he not come in pursuit? "On God! have pity on roe!" And as she prayed she looked to the right of the channel. A gentle current was running through towards the north of the lake, where a few affluents of the email river Calaoosceatcb.es flow out to tbe Gulf of Mexico. It is this river which feeds Lake Okee-cbo-bee at the great monthly tides. A trunk of a tree came drifting along from the right, and had just struck against the bank. "Would not this tree afford the means of crossing the channel? Evidently. In any case, if tbe tree drifted back to the island the fugitives would be no wore off than they were now. Without stopping to think, Zermah, as if by instinct, ran to the floating tree. If she had stopped sbe might have hesitated at the hundreds of reptiles swarming in the water, and the chances that the weeds would keep tbe trunk motionless in mid-channel. But anything would h better than remaining on the island! And so Zermab, with Dy in ber arms, climbed along into the branches and pushed off the tree, which immediately began to move with the current. Sbe tried to hide among the foliage which partly covered it. TLe banks were deserted. There was no sound from the island or the cypress erove. Odc across the channel the half-breed would hide away till night time, and then enter the forest without being seen. Hope returned to ber. Sbe scarcely gave a thought to the, reptiles who swam open-mouthed around the tree and glided over its lower branches. Tba little girl kept her eves shut as Zermab clasped her to her breast with one band, while sbe held the knife in the other ready to defend herself. But whether it was tbat tbe monsters feared tbe sight of the knife, or were only dangerous in tbe water, they made no attempt to attack her. At length the tree reached the middle of the stream, and was being steadily borne toward tbe forest. In a quarter of an hour, if it did not get caught in the weeds, it would ground on tbe other bank. And then, great as were the dangers sbe had to face, Zermah thought herself safe from Texar. Suddenly she clasped tbe child more tightly to her. There was a furious barking on the island.

and soon afterwards a dog came bounding along the river side. Zermah recognized the hound that the Spaniard had left to guard the wigwam. With coat bristling with anger and eyes flashing fire, he stood ready to leap among the reptiles tbat crowded tbe surface of the water. At the same moment a man appeared on the bank. It was the Texar who had stopped on tbe island. Warned by the doe's bark, he had run up to see what had happened. His rage at finding Zermah and Dy on the drifting tree may be imagined. He could not follow them, for the barge was on the other side of the stream. Only one thing could be do to stop them, and that was to shoot Zermah at tbe ri3k of killing the child. He had brought his gun with him. and he did not hesitate to use it. He took careful aim at the half-breed, who tried to cover the child with her body. Suddenly the dog in its mad excitement jumped into the water. Texar thought he had better wait to see what it couid da The hound swam swiftly towards the tree, and Zermah, knife in hand, was ready. But it was not necessary. In a moment tbe snakes had twisted themselves on to their prey, and with a few bites from its teeth in answer- to those from their venomous fangs the dog had su&k among the weeds. Texar saw the dog die before he could help it, and now Zermah was escaping him. "Die then!" he exclaimed. But tbe drifting tree had now reached the opposite b.-tnk, and the bullet oniy grazed the half-breed's shoulder. Next moment the tree grounded. Zermab, carrying the child, stepped ashore and vanished

into a clump of reeds. Texar fired again, but missed. . Sbe had escaped from the Texar on the island, but she was now in danger of falling into the hands of his brother. Her first endeavor was to get as far from Carneral island as possible. When night came the would make for Lake Washington. Calling up all her strength and energy sbe fled along, running rather than walking, and carrying the ch'ld in her arms. Dy's little legs refused to run on the irregular ground amid the quagmires that sunk like traps, and the roots that grew in such tangled masses as to be impassable for her. She did not seem to feel the weight of ber burden. Sometimes she stopped, less to take breath than to listen to the sounds of the forest. Sometimes she thought she could hear the bark of the other dog that Texar had taken with him. Sometimes she thought she could hear the report of firing in the distance. And she wondered if the Southerners had come up with tbe federal detachment. Then, when sbe had recognized that the noises were but the cries of a bird, or the breaking of some dry branch, she would resume her flight, and, full of hope, think nothing of the dangers that threatened her until she reached the sources of the St. John's. For an hour she continued to leave Lake Okee-cho-bee, making toward the east, so as to approach the Atlantic shore. It appeared probable to ber that ships of the squadron would be cruising off the coast in support of the detachment under Captain nowick. Suddenly 6he stopped. This time there could be no mistake. A furious barking was heard under the trees, and it was coming quickly. towards her. Zermah recognized the bark as one 6he bad ofen heard while the dogs kept watch round the Black Creek block-house. "The dog n on our track," thought she, "and Texar cannot be far off." She looked round iu search of a thicket, in which she and the child could bide. But tba dog was as intelligent as be was fierce, and had been trained to slave-hunting; would he not scent her out? The barking came nearer and nearer, and shouts could be heard in the distance. A few yards away stood an old cypress-tree, hollow with age, round which serpentarias and lianas had thrown a thick network of branchlets. Zermah ran to the hollow, which was just large enough to hold her and the child, while tbe network of lianas concealed them. But tbe dog was on their track. A minute afterward Zermah saw him iu front of the tree. He barked with renewed fury and sprang at the cypress. A stab with the knife made him retreat; and he began to bark more furiously than ever. A minute or two afterwards voices were heard those of Texar and Squambo, among others. It was the Spaniard And his companions who were running to the lake in an endeavor to escape from the federal detachment which they had unexpectedly met in tbe cypress grove, and found too strong to resist. Texar's object was to get back to Carneral island by the shortest war. so as to nnt a ring of water between the federals and himself. The federals would not be able to cross it without a boat After a few hours of respite tbe Southerners could reach the other side of the island, and when night came make use of the barge to land ou the southern side of thn lake. When Texar and Sauambo reached the cypress tree in front of which the dog continued to bark, they saw that the ground was red with blood that flowed from an open wound in tbe flank. "Look! Look!" exclaimed the Indian. "Is the dog wounded7' asked Texar. "Yes! wounded by a knife, and not a minute ago. Tbe blood is still smoking." "Who could have done it?' And here the dog again jumped at the network of foilage which Sauambo lifted aside with the batt end of his gun. "Zermah!-' be exclaimed. "And the childr said Texar. "Yes. How did thev get away?" "Kill her! Kill Zermah! The half-breed stabbed at the Spaniard, but Squambo snatched away the knife and drew her out from the tree so roughly that the child fell and rolled among a lot of the giaut pezizas, which abound under the cypress-trees. At the shock one of the mushrooms exploded like a gun, and a luminous dust crackled in the air. At the same moment other pezizas went off, and there was a noise all round as if tbe forest were filled with fire-works. Blinded by the myriad spores, Texar had to leave go of Zermah, and the burning dust in Sauambo's eyes for a moment rendered the Indian powerless. Fortunately the half-breed and child were stretched on tbe ground, and lay unharmed while the spores crackled above them. But Zermah could not escape from Texar. Already the air. after a few more explosions, had become breathable. Then a new series of reports bgan, but this time they were the reports of fere-arms. It was tbrj federal detachment come up with the Southerners, whom they surrounded in an instant and ordered to lay down their arms. As the order was given. Texar seized hold of the half-breed nd stabbed her in the breast. "The child!" Carry oft the child!" shouted the Spaniard to Squambo. The Indian caught up the girl and had run a stride or two towards the lake, when a gun was fired. He fell dead, shot through the heart by Gilbert Burbank. For all bad come up. James Burbank and Gilbert, and Carrol, and Perry, and Mars, and the blacks from Camdless bay, and Captain Howick's seamen who had made prisoners of the Southerners. Among the prisoners was Texar standing upright by Squambo's corpse. Only a few of the men had escaped toward Carneral island. Dy was in her father's arms, and he was clasping her as tightly as if he feared she was to be again taken away from him. Gilbert and Mars were leaning over Zermah, endeavoring to revive her. Sbe still breathed, but she could not speak. Mars held up her head, called to her, kissed her. She opened her eyes. She saw the child in Mr. Burbank's arms, recognized Mars covering her with kisses, and smiled. Then her evelids fell. Mars stood up, and catching sight of Texar jumps toward him 6houting, "Kill Texar! Kill Texar!" "Stop, Mars." said Captain Howick, "and let us deal with the scoundrel." "Now," said he, turnine toward the Spaniard, "you are Texar of Black Creek." "I have Dothingto say," replied Texar. "James Burbank, Lieutenant Burbank, Edward Carrol, and Mars, all know you and recog nize you. "Be it so!" "You are to be shot." "Well, shoot!" Then, to the surprise of all who heard her, Dy said to her father: "Father, there are two brothers, two wicked men, who are 60 much alike '' "Two men?" "Yes! Zermah told me to tell you so." It would, perhaps, have been difficult to understand the meaning of these strange words had tbe explanation not been almost immediately given, and in a very unexpected fashion. Texar had been taken to the foot of a tree. There, looting James Burbank in the face, he stood smoking a cigarette lie had just lighted, when, suddenly, as the firing party formed up, a man leaped past them and stood by the Spaciard's side. It was tbe second Texar, whom the men who had reached Carneral island had told of his ' brother's arrest. The sight of these two men. so like to each other, explained the child's meaning. Here at last was tbe explanation of the life of crime and the inexplicable alibis. But the brother's intervention could not but cause a certain amount of hesitation in carrying out the commodore's orders. Tbe order for immediate execution only referred to tbe author of tbe ambuscade in which the officers and men of tbe federal boats bad perished. The author of the robbery at Camd-

of the child ought certo be retried at St. Augustine. . But could not both brothers be considered equally responsible for tbe long series of crimes tbey had been able to commit with impunity? Certainly! But out of respect to tbe law Captain Howick thought it best to put tbe following question: "Which of you waa guilty of the massacre at Kissimmee?" There was no reply. Evidently the Texars intended to say nothing in reply to the questions put to them. Zermah alone could tell which was which. Tbe brother who was at Black Creek on the 22d of March could not be tbe author of the rnasacre committed a hundred miles off the same day. Zermah had a means of identifying the man who carried her off. But was she not dead now? No. Supported by ber husband she was seen to come forward. In a voice that could hardly be heard, sbe said: "The man who carried me off is tattooed on the left arm." At these words a smile of disdain appeared on the lips of tbe brothers, who folded up their sleeves and showed on the left arm of each a similar tattoo mark. At this new impossibility of distinguishing one from the other. Captain Howick thought it was time to bring the scene to a close. "Tbe author of the massacre at Kissimmes is r Ka cViAr WKtAn 9 rnn waa i "I was."' said both the brothers together. That was enough. At the words the firing party took aim, There was a flash and a report, and hand in hand the Texars fell. Tbat was the end of these two men, whose extraordinary resemblance had enabled them for so many years to commit crime with impunity. The only human sentiment they could be credit ed with was this savage friendship of brother to brother which had been theirs till death. d CHAPTER XXXL CONCLUSION. The civil war continued with varying fortune. Some things bad recently happened of which James Burbank had not heard since his departure from Camdless Bay, and which he only knew when he got back. During this time it seemed as though the advantage rested with the confederates round Corinth, while the federals occupied the position of Pittsburg Landing. The Southern army had Johnston as general-in chief, and under him were Beauregard, Hardee, Braxton Bragg and Bishop Polk, an old pupil at West Point; and these cleverly profited by tbe shortsightedness of the Northerners, who, on tbe 5th of April, were surprised at Shiloh. The result of that surprise was the dispersal of Peabody's brigade and the retreat of Sherman. The confederates, however, paid cruelly for their success, the heroic Johnston being killed as he repulsed the federal army. Such was the first day of the battle of the 5th of April. The day but one after there was another fight along the whole line, and Sherman retook Shiloh. In their turn the confederates had to retreat before the soldiers of Grant. The struggle was a sanguinary one; out of eighty thousand men engaged, twenty thousand were wounded or killed. This was the last news of the war that James Burbank and hie companions heard the morning after their return to Castle House, on the 7th of April. After the execution of the Texars they had accompanied Captain Howick and his prisoners to the coast. At Cape Malabar one of the vessels of tbe flotilla had been stationed to cruise off the coast, and in her tbey were taken to Saint Augustine. Thence a gunboat took them from I'icolata to Camdless Bay. And so all got back to Castle House even Zermah, who had recovered from her wounds. Carried to the federal vessel by Mars and bis companions, she had had every attention, and in her happiness at having saved little Dy, and restored her to those who loved ber. how could sbe die? Mrs. Burbank, with her child near her, gradually recovered her health. With her had she not her husband, her son, Alice (soon to become her daughter), Zermah and Mars? And she had nothing to fear henceforth from the scoundrel, or rather, two scounnrels, whose chief accomplices were in federal hands. But a rumor was abroad which, it will be re membered, was mentioned by the brothers at their interview at Carneral island. It was said that the Northerners were to abandon Jacksonville; tbat Dupont, coofining himself to the blockade of the coast, was to withdraw the gunboats that assured the safety of tbe St. John's. Thia plan would evidently jeopardize the safety of the planters who -held anti-slavery notions, and especially James Burbank. The rumor was well founded. On the 8th of April, tbe day after that ou which the family returned to Castle House, the Federals began tbe evacuation of Jacksonville. A few of the Inhabitants, who were favorable to tbe Unionist cause, thought it better to leave tbe town, some for Port Royal, others for New York. James Burbank did not think it necessary to follow their example. Tbe negroes bad returned to the plantation, not as slaves, but as free men, and their presence would assure the safety of Camdless Bay. The war had entered on a favorable phase for the North, and tbis allowed of Gilbert remaining on leave at Castle House to celebrate his marriage with Alice Stannard. Tbe work on the plantation was re commenced. There was no question of putting in force against Mr. Burbank the order expelling the freed slaves from Floridan territory. Texar and his companions were no longer at hand to raise the populace, and the gun-boats on tbe coast would promptly re-establish order at Jacksonville. The war dragged on for three more years, and even Florida was destined to receive a few more of its counter-effects. In the month of September of this same year Dupont's flotilla appeared at St. John's Bluffs, near the mouth of the river, and Jacksonville was occupied for the second time. Later on it was occupied by General Seymour for a third time, after a trifling resistance. On the 1st of January, 1S63, a proclamation by President Lincoln abolished slavery in all the States of the Union. But the war did not end till the 9th of April, 18G5. On that day, at Appomattox Court-house, General Lee surrendered with his whole army to General Grant, under a capitulation which did honor to both parties. Tbe sanguinary struggle of North against South had lasted four years. It cost two thousand seven hundred millions of dollars, and killed more than half a million of men; but slav ery was abolished throughout North America. And by it was assured the indivisibility of the republic of the United States, thanks to the ef forts of those Americans whose ancestors a cen tury before had freed their country iu the War of Independence. JTHE END. ONE OF THE LOST ARTS. The Ingenious Way in Which Wine 2s Kept from Fermenting. New York Mail and Express. "There is some unferraeuted wine," said a West street wine importer, " that will keep as long as is desired. " 'Is there anything peculiar about the method of keeping it?" "Oh, yes. ' The pure juice of the grape is press ed into the bottles. Then some olive oil is poured in at the top of each bottle. This effectually excludes the air, and none can work down into the wine to ferment it. At tbe same time any air tbat was in the juice findits way up through tbe oil Ma Vita a avjt SaiAVaiirP 'Yes , it hns been t brought into use within a few years." 'But ore would suppose the oil would flowinto the glass wbeu the bottle was put in use." "That is prevented by sopping up the oil with cotton when the bottle is uncorked. Tbe cotton absorbs if little by little. All that is needed is a little patience." The reporter mentioned the matter to a doctor of divinity noted for his researches in ancient history and tbe manners and customs of nations. "That is a real discoverv," said he. "That is one of the lost arts that Wendell Phillips did not mention in his calebrated lecture. This art of keeping unfermented wine was practiced by tbe Egyptians many years before Christ. But it was lost. It has now been rediscovered and is coming into general use. " Longfellow's Daughter. Boston Transcript. - Miss Alice M. Longfellow, who was last evening chosen a member of the Cambridga school committee, is a daughter of the poet. She has recently been largely interested in educational matters in the university city, and has devoted a great deal of ber time toward the establishment and carrying on of industrial and kindergarten schools. She is a graduate of a female college, and ranked very high in her class. As an example of her standing in educational matters, it may be stated that she is one of the trustees of the Harvard Annex. The election of Miss Longfellow will place two ladies on the school board. A rub lie Necessity. R. G. Lowe, the managing editor of the Galveston (Tex. ) News and Dallas News, who was arrested for printing a Snnday edition of both papers has been discharged. Judge Gust&ye Cook in his decision remarking: "Tbe Legislature has declared the newspaper a public necessity by enumerating it among such necessities."

less Bay and the seizure tainly to be taken back

OP INTEREST TO WOMEN.

Signs of Progress in Female Education Growing Interest in Physical Training. The Florescent Bonnet. Special tu the Indianapolis Journal. New York. Oct. 15. The fall bonnet is the most deceptive thing on earth. It looks simple, innocent, utterly without wile or guile, almost Quakerish in its demureness. It is the most unassuming bit -of headgear that the city has seen in years. It wins a woman's heart and yet more a man's by its pretty, engaging modesty. In point of fact that unpretentious little concern that almost persuaded you. bonnet wearers bad for once forsworn the vanities of earth and were planning a return to auiet nun's gray is the most delusive bonnet on earth. It is the moss difficult bonnet to build that ever a milliner undertook. It is the most expensive bonnet to pay for that ever depleted a masculine pocket-book. It is the most coquettish bonnet on the head that ever a witch of a woman wore. It is a delusion and a snare from nodding aigrette to strings. In the first place, contrast is easy and harmony is hard. Bonnets used to affect contrast: just now harmony is their lay. The present ideal of a bonnet, the bonnet that every woman expands in raptures over wh en she sees it, employs but one color throughout, and to make deception doubly deceptive that color is uo color at all. Bonnets to be successful, as every good bonuet aims to be, must just now be "florescent." You take a dull red and a curious olive green, and you weave them together in ribbon and velvet, warp of one, woof of the other, and the result is a changeable fabric tbat is one hue in one light and twenty hues in another, but that gives the general effect, soft in the velvet or plush, metallic in the ribbon, of a copper tint that is everybody's favorite tint this year. You cover your bonnet frame with the florescent plush by proxy in shape of the most deft milliner you can light upon, of course puffing it about tbe face a trifle and planting a knotof your florescent ribbon in the same tints on top, upon tbe hair. Then you take a cluster of florescent ostrich tips feathers take to the changeable hues very kindly thrust a florescent aigrette into the middle of the bunch and plant it well back upon the crown, not standing bolt upright, to annoy concert or theater audiences, but nodding gently toward the front. You tie it with florescent strings and your task is done. It is a bonnet that offers no challenge, its color a'.ters with every flicker of lignt, but it is at every instant of the same color all over. It looks as if you might have trimmed it yourself, and yet only a few milliner can make a success of it, and it costs you $35 where you used to pay ?la. it is not a bonnet in whose good faith or siucerity one can put any faith. It is a subtly capricious manner, but it is a very charming bonnet alter an. k. p. h. College Improvements. Special to the Indiananoii Journar. i New York, Oct. 15. There are some inter'esting names on the list of the classes at Smith College this fall the daughter of ex-Governor Robinson, cf Massachusetts; of Judge Barrett, of Vermont; of Simon Sterne, the New York lawyer and writer ou social science, and Dora Goodale, thei poet It is just at this season when the colleges are settling down to their winter's work that one looks for evidences of healthful growth in the girls' schools and seldom fails to find them. Smith has a new observatory, completed during the summer, and under the direction of Miss Mary Byrd, a graduate of Michigan University, and for four years one of the directors of tbe observatory of Carleton College, Minnesota. Miss Byrd is a practical astronomer, and has done original work. An es say of hers was recently translated and repub lished in one of tbe irench scientific reviews. Smith is also for the first time to have a resi dent woman pnysician, ur. urace f reston, one of its own alumcse. who has since taken medical degrees at Boston University and in Paris. Dr. Preston will be demonstrator and lecturer on anatomy, physiology and hygiene, and it is be lieved tbat the presence of a physician of the students' own sex in the school will go far toward solving the problems of physical and mental cult ure as they present themselves in the daily lives of girl students. Physical Culture of Girls. Special to the Indianapolis Journal . New York, Oct. 15. There is no one subject to which girls schools are paying more atten tion nowadays than physical training. Edu cators have been made almost supersensitive on the subject of feminine ability to stand mental culture. Accordingly, the alumnae of Smith are raising money for the more complete equip ment of the gymnasium, and ground will be broken at Vassar for a new gymnasium in a very few- weeks. Vassar, by the way, has. flourished greatly since Dr. Taylor assumed the presidency and is opening the present year under the most promising auspices. The laboratory of chemistry and physics has been enlarged through the generosity of John Guy Vassar, who with his brother, Matthew Vassar, jr., originally built the laboratory, which bears their name. Vassar has a new fire service this fall more complete, than most things of its sort in tbe country. Dr. Elizabeth B. Thelberg is tbe newly appointed resident physician. Miss A. M. Ely, of the New York Normal College, has been appointed professor of mathematics, and Miss Lucy M. Salmon, a fellow of Bryn Mawr, and author of "The Appointing Power of the President," associate professor of history. Miss Bertha Robinson, a daughter of the Rev. Dr. Robinson, president of Brown University, is one of the new teachers of English. LOVELY WOMAN IN PERSIA. She Must Be Neither Fat Like the Elephant Nor Lean Like the Camel. St. James Gazette. Eastern women are pitied as unhappy beings on the theory that they are imprisoned in a gilded gage closely guarded by very ugly eunuchs, and induced to spend their time in attempting to catch the smiles of a jealous lord, as they sprawl in graceful attitudes on silken cushions. Their only other occupation is understood to be devouring immense quantities of sweemeats in order to become corpulent; their only amusement the pleasure of poisoning rival wives and hearing interminable stories of the Arabian Nights pattern. It is true, that with tbe Turk beauty must be fat. It is not so, however, with the Persian; he has tbe appreciation of a connoisseur for the juste millieu. A stout woman in Persia is spoken of as au elephant, while the leaner ones are generally called camels. Though they deal largely in hyperbole, the Persians do not mince matters in speaking of tbe fair sex. The veil, which is habitually worn out of doors even by the very poor in all great towns in Persia, though its use is unknown among the tribes who form at least a third of the whole population, is clung to by the women as a privilege. It is. in fact, a domino. The Pereian woman out of doors is unrecognizable even bv her husband. Sbe sees without being seen, aod in the veil it is impossible to detect the age of the wearer. As the Persian lady is nearly always married at fourteen, she begins to fade at twenty-seven at latest, at thirty sbe appears fifty, and there are only two dentists iu the whole of Persia. Polygamy is the luxury of the rich; with the upper and middle classes bigamy is the rule. A man's first alliance is a marriage de convenance, the second either a marriago for love or tbe gratification of vanity. When your Persian brings home a second wife there is usually a scene which lasts for a week or two; there is a struggle for supremacy, but it is soon over. Both wives do their best to please the master of the bouse, but tbey do not attempt to poison each other unless in very exceptional circumstances. But Persian ladies still believe in the efficacy of love philters, and many an abomination is secretly administered to unfortunate husbands. Happily the love, philter, though usually composed of borribie ingredients, is quite harmless. Tbe bath takes up a good deal of the time of all Persian women. Even tbe poorest will attend the Ham man at least once a week. For the lady the bath is one of the serious affairs of life, end takes up daily from two to four hours of her time. It is something more than our idea of a bath. The victim is scraped and rubbed and parboiled. Tbe soles of the feet are pumiced until they are as soft and tender as those of a little, child. The hair is thoroughly washed by mean! of hot water and the saponaceous clay for which Shiraz is celebrated. Then th attendants mix in a brazen bowl the aromatic henna with the requisite amount of lemon juice, till a brown paste of the consistency of gruel is produced, and several handfuls of the repulsive-looking compound are smeared over the lady's bead. Then the hair, collected into a mass, is bound up in cabbage leaves. Small quantitiesof tbe dye are smeared over the eyebrows; the soles of the feet, tbe toes, the palms of tbe hands, the finger tips are also covered with it. And now the lady has to Nit perfectly still foi from one to three hours, till, like a meerschaum pipe, she eolors; and it is exactly the color obtained on the best specimans of .the

pipe tbat is most fashionable among Persian ladies. Day after day the bath is thronged with women, each sitting perfectly still for the color to "take." But thev have their reward, for the henna dyes the hair a beautiful deep warm chestnut; hence grey hair is unknown among Persian ladios.

While tbe coloring process has been going on tongues have been running, and a good deal of scandal has been exenangod. Tbe female barber witn a pair of tweezers has removed every outlying hair from the region of the lady's eyebrows. It is the ambition of every Persian woman that her eyebrows shall meet, or at least appear to do so. So attractive are eyebrows that meet that they are called tne "bridge, of love." The first care, then, of the Persian beauty is with a little pencil of antimony to unite her eyebrows, and then she proceeds to make them appear of unnatural thickness. Her eyelashes are" penciled, too, in a manner cot unknown to our own countrywomen. By this time the lady will have smoked many kalians or water pipes," she will have partaken of tea and regaled herself with coffee. Iced sherbets, too, will not have been wanting. Her finger tips, nails and palms, as well as the soles of her feet and toes, have attained a bright chestnut hue, which will last &- week. Tbe hair is carefully washed once more. It is seldom under a yard long, often muchmore, for tbe Persian woman never cuts her hair, except in front, perhaps, when two heavy love locks are left on either side of the face. The ladies now return home to their noonday breakfasts. After' breakfast there is generally a siesta, and this m a hot country is almost a necessity. About 4 te and pipes appear, and then the lady receives callers or pays visits, or perhaps does a little shopping or takes the air mounted on her ambling mule or a donkey of snowy whiteness. The Persian lady is a good housewife. She rises with the dawn, she is liberal in her housekeeping, kind to her servants a little profuse. perhaps, but then living is cheap in the East. Tbe keys of everything are in tbe keeping of the mistress of tbe house, and she is usually exact in her account. All the vast stock of conserves and sweetmeats, syrups for the preparation of sherbets, and pickles in endless variety are either prepared bv her own. fingers or under her eyes. Nor does she disdain to be confectioner and maker of pastry. As evening approaches rthe long and elab orate Persian dinner being partaken of among the upper classes by the sexes apart she prepares to entertain her husband; she will play to him upon the lute or harmonica; she will siug to bim or read him to sleep with poetry. or she will play with him at backgammon or chess, or recite to him long stories iu the style of the "Arabian Nights." When he is sick she nurses him, and it is her pride to see that his wardrobe is well supplied and his servants well clad. She will intrigue for him, plead for him, lie for him, and has been known to die for him. She will even carry her complaisance so far as to find another wife for him. WHAT THE GOVERNOR SAID. Authentic Statment Concerning tlie RemarK of tbe JJorth Carolina Man. Washington Letter in Philadelphia Record. Assistant Secretary of the Treasury Thompson wa formerly Governor of South Carolina, and might therefore be supposed to know more or less about that! famous remark of the Governor of North Carolina. He said to me the other day that it was marvelous, how far that remark had traveled. During his long tour of inspection among the light-houses and lifesaving stations on the great lakes this summer he heard of it in the most unexpected ways and places. "Why," be entinued. "one day Mr. Kimball (the superintendent of the Life Saving Service) and I went ashore at a little village to get shaved. We found a barber's shop and two inquisitive barbers. The one who shaved me asked questions about my journeying : until he found out that. I was from Washington." and ' then he asked me whether I had a place in any of the ; departments. I told him I had, but did not tell him ' what it was, and he did not think it well to pursue the ! subject. He got through before the other barber, and 1 I told Kimball as I surrendered my chair to au old countryman that I would wait for him outside. No sooner had I gone than my barber asked Kimball who I was. 'That was Gov. Thompson, of South Carolina,' he said, 'now Assistant Secretary of the Treasury. With that the old farmer rose up in his chair, all lathered as he was, and said: 'Do you suppose he would tell mo what it was the Governor of North Carolina said to him?' ' I asked Governor Thompson who those famous Governors were, end just what occurred at their famous meeting. He said that he did not know them by name and that the story was old when, he was born. The tradition was that theGdvernor of North Carolina, in the good old days when prohibition, -was not dreamed of, journeyed, ou horseback of course, to make a formal call on the Governor of South Carolina. The latter had a jugful of liquor in tiie house at the time, and for some inexplicable reason could get no more. When his distinguished guest arrived he set the jug out ou the table and invited the Governor of North Carolina to make himself at home. The guest drank copiously, the host moderate! v, to preserveat once his soberness and his liquor. At last he saw with dismay that his guest had druuk tbe last drop of the preoions liquor. The guest was too drunk to know it, but he missed the familiar invitation of tfce host to take another drink. So, leaning on his elbows, he looked across the table reproachf ullv. with tn melancholy remark, "Governor, it's a" long time between drinks. -s SHAPED WOMEN. Tests of Measurement Indicating Symmetrv- ' of Form. New York Mercury. Art should always be based on nature, and no art i. true which does not take nature for its model. A pertect, symmetrical, healthy woman of five feet five inches in height must complv with the following standard: She should be 138 pounds at the least, and could stand ud to ten pounds more without iAiurv ' to health or artistic perfection. The distance between ' the tips of her two middle fingers when the arms a a ' extended should be exactly the same ea the height, or ten times the length of her hand, or seven and a half times the length of her foot, or live times the diameter of her chest From one arm-pit to the other. The distance from the junction of thighs to the ground should be the same as from the former point to th top of the head. The knee should be exactly midway from the junction of the thighs to the bottom of the heel. The distance from the elbow to the tin of the middla finger should be the same as from the elbow to the middlsjine of the chest. From the toi of the head to , the chin, with the head posed naturally, should be the : same as from the level of the chin to the ai'm-pits, or from the heel to the tip of tbe large toe. The bust of a woman of the height named should be fortv-threa . inches measurement over the arms, and the wai.it twenty-four. 1 he upper part of the arm should be from thirteen. and a half to fourteen inches and the wrist six inches. ; The ankle should be six inches, the calf of the leg four- , teen and the thigh twenty-five. Any woman of the: height mentioned who has these measurements cau congratulate herself on having as perfect a form as the Creator ever made. Of course, the nroDortiona vary with the height. A Beaut v Club. Jennie June. j There has been more or less talk of the old GreeV idea for years it crops up regularly but particularly ! since the Greek style of dress was advocated and adopted by a well-known English writer, and mosji j graceful and independent lady, Mrs. Emily Pfeiifer. , But there is more serious, though more secret discus- : sion of a fashionable, social club, to be called the 'Beauty" club, the members of which may be of both sexes, but must be conspicuously handsome in tuna and feature. Tht gatherings will be composed strictly of members and candidates for membership, and the "conversations." not discussions, limited to tuhjects connected with art or dress from the artistie or historic point of view, lbe members willnot only teat libertv to wear a peculiar dress, they will be expected to do so. Tbe ladies will perhaps revive the Indian swathing?, ! and twisting of beautiful scarf -like draperies, or ths ' Assyrian pendant gashes over glittering skirts, whose i every motion reveals the contour of a beautiful form, j without anv sacrifice of delicacy, even so much as is placed on the altar of a conventional low-necked dress, for the body will be clothed from head to foot. Of course the gentlemen will adopt velvet Knickerbocker and national costumes perhaps the picturesque dress of tbe Tyrol ess peasant may be brought into requisition should the uniformed idea be crystallized into fact, but at present it is in embryo, and" the art and literature which are to render it famous, or at ItRst rescue it from frivolity, are so rarely allied with youth , and exceptional personal beauty, that it may "never ' emerge from its present state of chrysalis. Coal Oil for Bronchitis. Kew York Hail and Express. "I can prescribe a cure for your cold." "But this is not a cold," replied tbe reporter to the J drajrgist who proiferrd the remedy. 'Well, for your bronchitis, then: but you wouldn't take it." "You know best about that. You ought to know how your own medicines taste." "This isn't of my own preparation. It comes out of the earth and should be taken as it is found." "What is this wonderful cure?" . - "Crude petroleum. One teaspoonful before each -"al is the best remedy for bronchitis I know of. 'e persons iu the oil region where I lived for ai years, drink larger quantities of the stuif, but aspoonful is sufficient." .t must be a disgusting; thing to take?" "At first it ia rather unpalatable, but one gradually grows to liku it. Those who drink a i int at a time i are very fond of it. I have known tioiue very obstinate ' cases of throat trouble cured by it. Jt is an excellent tonic and builds up the entire system at the s,mo time ; ruring the malady it is especially designed to relieve, i Try it and come back and tell me how you like it." The Free Lunch New Orleans Times-Democrat. New Orleans is the birthplace of tne free lunch, lie re it sprang into life; hero it reached its hiehest perfection; here it survives to-day. The free lunch was a part ot our early commercial develonmeut. Years ayo, when New Orleans had uo Cotton Kichange, Chamber of Commerce, or similar body, its merchants transacted their business ou the streets. on the levee, or in tbe bar-rooms. The latttr became really commercial exchanges, and actually took the name f exchange, which many of them keep to this day, and the free lunch was provided so that two mer chants transacting business could do U over a plate of soup or a piece or roast beef. The free lunch be came an institution here, aod has remained ever since; and to-uay it is far more general and usually of a tar higher grade than those "the future great city" of America can boast of. It spread from here to St. Louis and to one or two other Southern towns, but it was never popular in tbe North, aud never got much beyond crackers and cheese.