Ligonier Banner., Volume 34, Number 29, Ligonier, Noble County, 19 October 1899 — Page 7

&O Y . R s (/? L | & ‘i "Ln (A WO SAVER ity 3 / askr : NN S LEVETTYEATS. | [Copyright, 189 s, by D. Appleton & Co. All rights reserved.] i CHAPTER XXII. i THE RIDE TO ST. JEROME. - We galloped at a break-neck pace to the gate, but the guard wasalready alarmed, and thalf a dozen men came hastening towards us. They were on foot, however, and had no mind to stand the shock of meeting horses coming at full speed down an incline, so skipped nimbly aside. The officer alone held Lis ground, paying for his courage with his life, for Bande Nere sliced his head in twe like a ripe watermelon—poor wretch. Had they only closed the gates we were lost, but _we reached them just in time, and, passing through like a flash, were free of the town. A bullet or two whizzed past us, but did no damage. It was done, and another half hour of the pace we were going would place us beyond pursuit. It was no easy malter, however, to sit the horse and hold Angiola as T was doing, and I very soon began to feel that the strain on my arm was getting beyend me, and that she was slipping from my grasp. She lay still and passive, her eyes closed, her head resting on my shoulder, and seemed in a faint. Perhaps 1 spoke roughly, but it was no time to mince words.

“Come, madam,” I said, “you must rouse yourself—take another day to swoon—hold me as closely as you can—quick.” My words—and the tone they were spoken in—had the effect I wanted. She looked a little indignant, but held on, leaving my left arm, which was getting numbed, more free to guide the horse, and my sword arm greate liberty should occasion arise. The country, rugged although it was, descended in a slope towards the basin of Trasimene, but 1 turned sharp aside from the road, fearing there might be a picquet thereon, and galloped across the open, far outpacing my followers, who 1 saw were coming after me in a bunch, and at their vtmost speed --the honest. knaves. The glance over my shoulder that I took to obgerve this also showed me a strong body of horse spurring from the gate, and I chuckled to myself as I thought we had gained a mile’s start and that they had to deal with Castor. Five leagues to go—it was nothing to the ‘brave horse; and in answer to my call he stretched himself out as he had never done before. ‘As for me, such thoughts as I had when I felt the arms of the woman I loved clasped about me are to be recalled for one’s sclf alone, and concern none else beside. Onee or twice I glanced down, meeting her eves, and as she dropped her lids over them they seemed to me to be alive with a soft light. After a little I felt the arms beginning to relax.

“Hold tight,” T said. : “I cannot; my strength is going.”

“Courage, take heart; see, to our left is the Tower of Magione—a few minutes and we are safe.”

1 drew her closer towards me. With an effort she rallied, her arms again tightened in their ciasp, and we sped down the long slope which led to Trasimene, Castor stretching himself like a greyhound. I looked aghin aver my shoulder. Far behind my men were riding for their-lives, and farther still was the dark line of our pursuers, coming on with dogged persistence, the sun lighting up their armor and flashing from their spears. Once beyond Magione we were comparatively safe, but a false step, a stumble, and all was lost. Magione itself was held by the Baglioni, and from the old watch tower, built by the Sforza, which stood high above the country, we might have already been spied and a party sent out to intercept us. The thought seemed to grow into a reality,-and a despair began to come over me. ‘“On, on, Castor!” I spoke to the good horse, and he laid his ears back at the sound of my voice, and even as he did so I saw a cloud of dust coming towards our left, and knew that the danger I feared was at hand. Going as we were I was riding right into the party from Magione, and therefore with a touch on the rein I swung Castor yound to the north, and we raced on, leaving the tower over my shoulder. The double burden and the tremendous.pace, however, began to tell on the horse, and within the mext five minutes he slackened perceptibly in his stride. To my horror I saw that the ground began to be furrowed and cut up by ravines and that we were approaching the bed of a river. I had, therefore, to slacken the pace, and at the same time our new pur’ suers sighting us came on with all the speed of their fresh horses. Castor scrambled in and out of the ravines like a cat, but we were going slowly now, and the enemy had 01l the advantage of the level ground to come up, which they did at a dreadful rate. With the failing strength of my companion I dared mot risk jumps, weighted as I was, but the brave horse did his utmost, as if knowing our danger. " “For God’s sake hold on!” I cried out as we topped a deep ravine with a plunge that almost caused Angiola to slip from my grasy, and as 1 said this I heard a shot and a ball from an arquebus whistle over my head. The enemy were in the rough ground now themselves, but they were within gun range, and I dreaded that some of them might dismount and pick me off. This, however, did mnot occur to them, and on we went, with every now and again a bullet, fired from horseback with an unsteady aim, singing past us. My charge had twisted her arms into my shoulder belt and held on bravely, but I saw by her white face and the blue coming into her lips that this could not last, and if she fainted there was an end of all. At the outside’it was a matter of a few minutes now, one way or the other; but as I came to the crest of another ravine I saw before me a steep bank leading down to a, small stream that was swishing along in a white fiood, and on the opposite shore a sight that made my heart leap, for drawn up in array, evidently roused by the sound of the shots, was a strong body of men &t arms, end over them fluttered the pennon of Hawkwood, a red hand on a white field. 1 knew in a moment we were within the king’s outposts. . “Saved!” 1 shouted in my joy. ‘“Saved!” —and risking all I made the horse fly the -dast ravine, and the next instant we had slid down the bank, and the white water was )chprning round Castor as he dashed into the gtream. - : -

A puff of smoke above us, a flash as of - lightning, a deafening roar, and one of Nowvarro’s nine-pounders belched out a storm of grape that hissed over our heads in the _ direction of our pursuers, and stopped them, ~ beaten and bafiled. One effort more, we ~ ware out of the stream, up the bank, and ~ panting, breathless and still bleeding, with . any companion in a dead faint in my arms, I ~ 7zeined in Castor. In a moment wewere sur- . rounded, but the faces were kindly, and, dis~_mounting slowly, I placed my lifeless bur- ~ den oa 2 heap of cloaks that were flung to ~ the earth for her, and then, turning round, . saw Ilawkwood before me. It was the first - time we had met since the affair at Arezzo, when 1 was cast forth a dishonored man. I ~ did not know how to greet him, and there - was a ccnstraint in his face, for 1 saw he . &new me, and was, like myself, at a loss for ~ speech. I had, however, to take the matter o Bignore,” 1 said, “accept my thanks. ~ This lady is the Countess Angiola CastelNts il io bk vt PR Tesiaisr

oni’s men crossing the Sanguinetta and to protect all fugitives from the territories of the Borgia”? = : ok

I bowed and added, with a pain in my tone I could not conceal; for this man was .once my friend: “All the same, I thank you, signore; 1 have, however, four followers.” “I can do nothing for them if they are on the other bank,” he interrupted, and went on: “St.. Jerome is not a half league from here. My men will make up a litter, and help to bear the lady there. It will be easier for her. I wish youa good day.” He turned on his heel and gave some orders to his men in English, a language I do mnot know, leaving me standing by the body of Angiola. All the misery of the past came back to me in a flash. Would the stain never be wiped out? All the kindness 1 had received from Bayard and the cardinal, all the efforts made by those who believed in me, seemed to be swept away as dust in the wind. Almost did I feel that I would accept the ban cast on me and turn wolf in earnest. It cost me much to restrain myself from drawing on Hawkwood, but a glance at the still pale face before me recalled me to my duty. A man very kindly brought me a little wine; I knelt down and forced some of it between her blue lips. In a short time she revived, some color canie into her cheeks and she attempted to rise, with a look of fear on her face at the number of armed men she saw around her. :

“There is nothing to fear, madam,” I said, to reassure her, “you are safe, and in an hour will be at St. Jerome—a litter is being made ready for you.” - Without a word she held out her hand, and thanked me with this and the look in her eves. .

- The litter was now ready, half a dozen men vounteered their services, and, placing her therein, we started for the convent. KEre we had gone half a mile we heard shouts behind us, and I was more than glad to see Jacopo and my men riding up. “How did you get off?” I asked, as they came up. - :

“In the rear of the troop from Magione, excellency,” was Jacopo’s reply; “they did not observe us, having eyes only for you; and seeing you were safe we forded the stream lower down and crossed—but, excellency, vour face—are you hurt?’

“Somewhat, but at St. Jerome I will have it attended to.”

In truth, the left side of my face appeared to be laid open, and, although I felt that the wound was not so dangerous as it seemed, yet 1 had bled freely, and now that the excitement was over began to suffer much pain. Indeed, at times I felt as ifi.l could hardly hold myself straight in the saddle, succeeding 1n doing so only by an effort of will. I did not approach thelitter. 1 was afraid that the sight of my face would alarm Angiola, for now she was probably able to look about her, and see that which she had not been able to observe before. Once, however, in a bend of the road, that fortunately went to the left and hid my wounded side, our eyes met, and I caught so bright a smils of thanks that it paid me for my hurt. I reined in, for I knew my face showed too much, and henceforth kept well behind. . | sent Gian on' to the convent with the good news of Angiola’s rescue, and on nearing the gates was met by St. Armande and the rest of my followers, whom I was glad indeed to see. .

He canie up with a merry greeting. “Welcome,” he cried: “so,. gallant knight, you have saved the damsel in distress;”’ then, catching sight of my wounded face, his tone changed. “Good G—! you are hurt.” . “A Little”

“You should have seen‘to it at once—come—we are not allowed to enter the convent; but the abbess has done all she can for us, and we camp or lodge, whichever way you put it, in that house there;” he pointed to a small villa, set in what seemed a wilderness of holm-oak that hid all but its roof irom view. . - “Not so fast, chevalier. I must leave my charge at the convent first.” He had to rest satisfied with this, but I was surprised that he made no inquiry as te the condition of Angiola, an ordinary eivility that might have been expected. At the gates of the convent, within which we were not allowed to enter, we were met

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. : ““Saved!” by the lady abbess and her train. I dismounted, inténding to assist Angiola out of the litter, but as it was set down she sprang out of it of her own aceord, and the next minute she was in the arms of the abbess, and there was much kissing and many congratulations, mingled with tears of joy. I did not stay to receive the thanks I saw would shortly be showered on me, and, thrusting a handful of crowns into the hands of the leader of the good fellows who bore the litter, as some reward for himself and his men, I looned Castor’s reins into my arm and set forward to walk to the villa. The chevalier came with me, and by the time I rcached it I was quite giddy, being weuak with the pain and the loss of blood. The saturnine ‘old abbe was there, with more concern in his face than I had seen for a long time, and seeing me stagger he put an arm round me, and, aided by St. Armande, assisted me to a couch. The chevalier himself dressed my wound with a gentle and skillful hand, making as much of me as if I had been run through tke vitals. As be finished dressing the wound the abbe remarked that I would have to rest for a few days to enable it to heal, and I had replied with some difficulty, my jaw being bandaged up, that this was impossible, when Gian came in with a note. It was from Angiola, chiding me gently for not waiting {o receive her thanks and those of the abbess, and begging me to come the following day, with a postseript to the effect that the lady abbess would so far relax the rules of the order as to admit me within the courtyard. 1 dismissed Gian with thanks and a message that I would be at the convent, charging him to say nothing of my wound, and then my thoughts went a wool-gathering, and I lay back with the missive in my hands. St. Armande was leaning against the window, his back to the light. He had taken up this position after whispering a word or two to the abbe, who left the room. I did not, however, observe him or anything else; my mind was full of mad thoughts, and for the moment I let them have full play, making no cffort to resist. Folding the letter up care{ully, T placed it under my pillow, and was about to ciose my eyes when the abbs resurned, bearing a bowl in his hands. This Bt. Arinande took from him, and, approachwmgae a 0

and, passing his arm round my neck, made me drink like a child. The draught was cool and refreshing, and as 1 sank back on my pillows, my heart for a moment being gay at the thought of the letter, I said, jestingly: “Chevalier, you would make a most excellent nurse. Shave off that little mustache of yours, put on a black hood and gown, and diavolo! But you would break as many hearts as you cured wounds.” The words were barely out of my mouth when he brought his foot down with an angry stamp on the carpet, and with a face as scarlet now as it had been pale before turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

I looked to the abbe, who was sitting watching me, stroking his chin with his hand. “St. John! But is he often taken this way ?”’ : The cleric rose, and, not answering my question, spoke: “You had better try and slezp now, cavaliere, or eclse the potion may lose its effect.” He then followed St. Armande. L

I would have risen to apologize, but I felt n pleasant numbness stealing over Ine, and in a minute or so my thoughts began to grow confused, and I seemed to sink into a sleep. Not so profound & slumber, however, as to be unconscious of what was going on around me. I was sure I once heard Bande Nere and Jacopo in my room, and that 1 was being carried apparently to a more comfortable bed. Then 1 felt soft hands bathing my wound, and heard a gentle voice whispering words of deep love in my ear. It was a dream, of course, but all through the night that soon came, Doris D’Entrangues hung over me and tended me with words I cannot repeat. o :

CIIAPTER XXIII.

THE PAVILION OF TREMOUILLE

When I awoke the next morning my head was still dazed, but I was otherwise strong. At least I felt so, as I lay still in my bed, all sense of fatigue gone, and trying to collect my thoughts. After awhile I glanced round the chamber, which was not the room where I had taken- the potion, but another and a larger apartment. It was no fancy, then, the voices of Jacopo and Bande Nere I heard and the sensation of being lifted and moved, which I experienced in the night. My removal was doubtless effected whilst 1 was under the influence of the drug; but the voice of madame? The almost certainty that she was by me through the hours of the night? I could not account for this, and, seeing any such effort was useless, ceased to rack my brain on the subject, putting it down to a 2 mad dream: IFor some while I lay mustering up courage to rise, fanned by the mild breeze which played in from the open window on my right. Outside I could see thie branches of the trees, as they swayed io and fro in the wind, and the joyous song of a mavis trilled out sweetly through the morning from the thorn bushes whence he piped. In about a half hour my head began to grow clearer; I remembered * Angiola’s letter, and thrust my hand under the pillow to find. it. Of course it was not there, as 1 kad been moved, and a short exclamation of annoyance broke from me.

“Excellency!”’ ' ‘ It was Jacopo’s voice, and the good fellow, who had evidently been watching me, came forward {rom behind the head of the bed.

“Ah, Jacopo! Is it you? Here, help me to rise.”’ ) . .

“Signore—but is your worship able—the chevalier--"?

“Never mind the chevalier. lam as well as ever, and there was no need of that to-do vesterday-—diavolo!” and a twinge in my face brought. me up sharply and recalled Pluto’s claws. I put my hand to my facc and found I was still bandaged. “It was lucky he only touched your worship.”

“Luckier still your being there with your arquebus, else St. Peter and 1 had surely shaken. hands—there—thanks—l will sit here for « few minutes,” and I sank into an easy chair, being really weaker than 1 thought I was, the effects more of the narcotic than anything else. ““Will your worship breakfast here?”’ “No—hut before doing anything go to the room where I was last evening and bring me the letter you will find under the cushions of the couch there.”

“Excetlency!” and Jacopo left the room. I now for the first time observed a bouquet of red and white roses, whose fragrance filled the chamber. I had been conscious of their perfume before, but thought the scent was borne in by the breeze from the garden outside. Whilst I was admiring the flowers Jacopo returned. “The'letter.”

“Is not there, signore; I have searched carefully.” ’ It was a disappointment, but I said nothing, having determincd to see for myself. As Jacopo assisted me to dress I inquired to whom I was indebted for the flowers.

“I cannot say, excellency; they were here when I came this morning. Possibly the Signor de St. Armande, who was with your worship all night.” “All nicht!” : “Sionore?’ *

I could not help being touched by ihis proof of devotion, and when 1 had dressed went down, with the intention of finding my letter and thanking the chevalier for his kindness. I was, I saw, still a little weak, but a few hours’ rest would make me fit for action, and I could not help thinking I had been made much over on too small an occasion. St. Armande was in the room where I had leit the letter, and at the first glance I saw he was haggard and worn, with dark circles under his eyes, eyes which many a beauty would have been proud to own. He scemed so slim, so small and delicate, as he came to raeet me, that my heart began to niisgive me again as to his powers to endure the labor involved in the difficult adventure we had belore us. He was much concerned at my having risen, made many inquires about my condition, and put_aside my thanks. o : J

“Per Bacco! chevalier,” I said, “ycu look more of an invalid than I. 1 fear me, 1 shall have to be nurse in my turn.” : “It is but a touch of the megrims I have; but you must not think of deing anything for a week.” -

“Or a month, or a yecar,” I gibed, as 1 turned over the cushions of the couch, and, in answer to St. Armande’s inquiring look, went on: ‘““The letter I received yesterday —1 am certain I left it here.”

He came forward to help me, but with no avail. . ;

“It must have been blown away,” he said. “But 1 put it under the cushions!” “True—but you forget you were moved, and the things were shifted. Come to breakfast now, and I will have a tnerough search made afterwards.”

““Not yet; I will but step over to the convent, and inquire after the Lady Angiola—" “What! With a bandaged face?” ~ “It is a wound,” 1 answered, ccldly, and, turning, went out of the villa. My lackey ran forward to inquire if a horse should be made ready; but, thinking the walk would do me good, 1 declined. I was right in this, the fresh air acting as a tonic, and when I rcached the gates of the corvent all the giddiness had passed. There, to my dismay, I heard that Angiola was unable to leave her room, a thing I might have expect2d, and, sending a civil message, I retraced my steps, entering the villa by a side gate, and walking towards it through a deserted portion of the garden. 1 went leisurely, stopping every now and again to admire the flowers and the trees. In one of these rests, whilst 1 idly gazed about me, my eye was arrested by a number of {ragments of paper that lay on the green turl at my feet. Yisiding oan impulse I could nofcontool, e T =

THE CONSTITUTION DEFIED.

McKinley's Vielation of American Prineiples in the Sulun Affair.

In the perfunctory adulation of President McKinley by the Massachusetts republicans in state convention one of the causes alleged in their platform for ecstatic admiration of that public functionary is ‘“the tact, the patience, the skill and the statesmanlike spirit with which the president has approached the perplexing problems arising from the war.” Without discussing the spirit in which Mr. McKinley has‘*‘approached’ these problems, which is altogether a matter of opinion, we may be permitted to regard the manner in which he-has solved them, which is simply a matter of fact. The only one of the “problems arising from the war” which President McKinley has not only *‘approached” but actually solved is that of the establishment of the United States sovereignty over the Sulu archipelago, lying to the southward of the Philippines proper; which was included in the purchase for which we paid $20,000,000 to Spain. We have no possible use for these islands, of course; they must always be an expense and a nuisance, but Mr. McKinley insisted upon having them, and he has got them, and he has actually established sovereignty over them. It is the one completed act of his administration in the adjustment of the mew relations of the United States arising out of the war. It is the crown of his ‘“tact, patience, skill and statesmanship.” : - The establishment of the sovereignty of the United States over the Sulu archipelago has not been made by conquest but by diplomacy. The president has made a treaty, or agreement, or ‘bargain, with the ‘“‘sultan” of these islands. He has pledged the American, people to pay te this magnate an annual tribute to keep him quiet, and in consideration of his acknowledgment of ‘the “sovereignty” of the TUnited States. This is cheap enough, in comparison with the cost of Mr. McKinley’s poliey in respect to Aguinaldo in Luzon. We might buy up and pension the local posses of all the islands in the China sea at far less expense than the country is put to for the maintenance of Otis’ authority on a few square miles ‘about Manila by the force of arms. But the statesmanship of President McKinley does not stop with the payment of tribute to this yellow monarch; it includes the guarantee of certain peculiar institutions of that country for which the “sultan’ has great affection. We may pass over the Mohamedan tenet of polygamy, with which Mr. MecKinley has pledged the United States not to interfere; this is merely a matter of morals or sociology. But the question of slavery is another story.

The thirteenth amendment to the constitution of the United States declares as follows: “Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or in any place subject to their jurisdiction.” This amendment was preclaimed as a part of the organic law c¢ the republic, December 18, 1865. President McKinley cannot*plead ignorance of the law. Every child in our public schools knows it by heart, and knows that wherever the jurisdiction of the United States extends no man or woman or child can be held in servitude.

Mr. McKinley has established, by the payment of tribute to the yellow potentate of the Sulu archipelago, the sovereignty of the United States over these islands. By the terms of the constitution under which the president holds his office and exercises his authority, the establishment of that sovereignty frees every human being held in bondage on those islands. Mr. McKinley has no right to say that slavery shall continue. Whatever he may say can count no more than the word of the least of his fellow citizens.

But what has been done by this “wise and patriotic administration,” as the sycophantic republican state convention styles the Hanna-MecKinley syndicate at Washington? A treaty, has been made with the “sultan” of this slaveholding territory whereby “all slaves have-the right of buying their freedom at a price to be fixed by disinferested parties or another may buy a slave’s freedom for him.” Such, at least, is the statement made regarding the treaty with the ‘“sultan” of Sulu effected by Gen. Bates and heralded as a great diplomatic triumph by the organs of the administration. If President McKinley has not consenied to this flagrant violation of the constitution of the United States he cannot too speedily absolve himself by giving publicity to the terms of the treaty -by which he has established the sovereignty of the United States over Sulu. There is every reason to believe that the situation’'is as stated. ;

Slavery has existed in Sulu from time immemorial. The slaves are captives of war, poor debtors and the children of such unfortunates born while their parents are in a condition of servitude. Iveryone of these slaves is free to-day under the constitution of the United States. By what usurpation of avthority has President McKinley dared to allow the “sultan’” of Sulu to retain these human beings in involuntry servitude?

The theory of those who sustain the policy of the administration in the Philippines is that the declaration of independence 'is outgrown; that it is no lecnger true that all men have equal political rights; that just government to-day does not rest upon the consent of the governed; that representation need not accompany taxation. But the declaration of independence and the constitution of the United States are two different documents. The declaration may be outgrown, as the republican supporters of Mr. McKinley tell us, but the econstitution is the law of the land, to which the president must bow as well as the humblest citizen. And the constitution declares that there ghall be no slavery or involuntary servitude within either the United States or “any place subject to their jurisdiction.” : , Mr. MeKinley has, by his “wise, statesmanlike and patriotic” conduct, es tablished the jurisdiction of the United States over the Sulu islands. I» deing this he seems to have reestal . e |

LET ALL HAVE A SLICE.

Wall Street Philanthropists Get & “Hand Out” from the Government Pantry.

“We may be overdoing this thing,” says Hon. William McKinley, referring to the booming prosperity that is being enjoyed by the trust promoters, the stock gamblers and the money sharks generally. “Let us take a half hitch on our enthusiasm lest we go to smash—thereby endangering my prospects for a second term.” These are not his exact words, but the sentiment is preserved. -

And it is evident that the understrappers who have been steering the ship of state while the regular crew have been eating expensive dinners and talking about the old flag have received instructions to make #ll snug aloft in case there should be a stift breeze. The assistant secretary of the treasury, Mr. Vanderlip, is keeping an eye to windward, at any rate. Money is tight in Wall street. The gentlemen who shear lambs, the philanthropists who rig the market, the financiers who come to the rescue of the government when a bond issue is in sight, are paying considerably more than the legal rate for money, and in their stress and trial they mnaturally turn for aid to the treasury department, which is considered a sort of branch office of the New York establishment. Mr. Vanderlip, acting undoubtedly upon the orders of his absent chief, is quick to respond. He announces that the United States government will prepay the in‘terest on all its bonds for the rest of the fiscal year—a period of eight months. ] The stock gamblers must have easy money at the expense of the taxpayers. It is true that on alarge part of the | anticipated payments the government{ will exact a discount at the rate of onefifth of one per cent. per month, but the difference between this discount and the current money rate in Wall sireet will go to the distressed financiers. Upon $5,000,000 of the whole $26,000,000 to be paid out no discount at all "will be exacted. The government will give the use of the money gratis to relieve the worthy persons who amuse tliemselves by *“skinning the Rubes,” as they poetically express it. Itisa thank offering of our noble executive to the patriots who gave so freely of their adipose tissue when Mr. Hanna was operating the frying pan in the fall of 11896. If they are treated liberally now ‘they may be equally responsive when - Mr. Hanna takes up his pilgrimage again next year. : And of course it is all right. Stock ‘gambling is one of our most cherished and aristocratic industries. It must ‘be protected and fostered like other favored industries. But while our noble executive and Mr. Vanderlip are in this generous frame of mind why shouldn’t the federal pensioners, the federal officeholders and other prospective cred{tors of the government seize the opportunity to ask an advance payment? As a matter of fact, why shouldn’t we all have a ‘“whack” at the United States treasury, dividing up the funds on hand pro rata and thereby insuring general prosperity and a high old time throughout the length and breadth of the land so long as the money lasts? Let us make this‘thing general. Itis -not fair that the Wall street philanthropists should monopolize the pork.— Chicago Chronicle. S

OPINIONS AND POINTERS.

——lTt is not so strange that William McKinley should have thrown civil service over for Mark Hanna. Hanna:has done infinitely more for McKinley.— Chicago Democrat. ——llt is a good democratic doctrine to stand up for the right and .resist wrong. And no exception will be made in favor of chartered robbery.—St. Louis Post-Dispatch. ——Secretary Root is now spoken of as a running mate for McKinley in 1900. As a former trust attorney he would be a fit candidate if the republicans are going to put a plank in their platform denouncing trusts and apologizing for them at the same time,—Buifalo Times. ——There seems to be no shame in Mr. Hanna, the dictator. In his speeches he boasts that his party has emnacted laws against trusts. He takes care, hoewever, not to tell that he himself has used his influence and prevented the enforcement of these laws.—Canton (0.) News-Democrat. . X ——The Ohio state republican campaign committee is sending ‘begging letters all over the United States, asking for contributions to save the president’s own state from being lost this fall. This shows what confidence the republicans have in the popularity of the president’s party.—Utica (N. Y.) Observer. ——The president of the United States has, in effect, obeyed Hanna by taking the stump to “savé Ohio.” Still more extraordinary, he has -taken his entire cabinet with him on the trip. But for Dewey’s diplomatic refusal, he had hoped to attach the great naval hero to the presidential swing-around-the-circle in the effort to ‘‘save Ohio.” Ohio must be pretty badly in need of salvation.—Albany Argus. ——For the first time in the history of Hannaism the officeholding republicans of all the states are “held up” to help Mr. Hanna out of a hole in one state. We understand very well that on a former occasion Mr. Hanna did bleed the officeholders of 12 states for the same purpose, but his demands have grown with his necessities, and now his “put-up-or-lose-your-job” brutality takes in the whole union. The incident is shameful and dishonest, it is true, but it is at least useful in showing the depth of Mr. Hanna'’s desperation.— Columbus (0.) Press-Post. : ——We note upon the part of certain ill-advised contemporaries a renewed disposition facetiously to designate the senior senator from Ohio as “Marcus Aurelius” Hanna. The appellation is singularly inapt. Emperor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, though he lived 1,800 years ago, was a scholar, a phil>sopher, a man of honor. Modern writ:rs upon ethics are inclined to admit ‘hat his “Meditations” constitute sys‘em of moral philosophy that has not seen surpassed. Flippantly to compare Mr. Hanna with such a man, even by _emote implication, is to offer an af*ont 1o history and propriety. - Em- : e rrmg'x

P=: 5 % i O 3 3 -2/ 4 TB/ 8 b g 1 VoINS 4 3 Sz i d XPN £\ i / - | B 4 A M9ao)B le 4 (9. - — N " ~"/ ' > o Y = : P Wmm THE LION SLAYER. ' Down in Turkish fashion flat ‘ A group of merry children sat Upon the floor. They were looking very snug - - In a row upon the rug, : ‘ The fire before. One with hands about her knee ' Begged all to look and see, In the coals, o . A great lion fierce and strong, And his tawny mane so long - - Round him rolls. " *“Oh, you need not be afraid,” . . Said the dainty little maid - In a glee. ) “Y’'d fight him if he’d dare ; Just to come outside eof there You would see." . #l’d take him by the head, 2, And I'd squeeze him till he bled . His blood all out: If his great big teeth he’d show, ¥’'d saw off the whole row Beside his snout.” ' The awe-s‘tricken group looked grave As the little maid so brave, _Smiled once more. - Peeping ’'round the room in fear, They half expected then to hear, - The lion’s roar. 3 All at once a little mouse, o : Who had built his tiny house, In the wall, Came scudding toward the crowd, ~ And with cries prolonged and loud, Away went all. - By the lion-slayer led, | They precipitately fled To the door. ) : While the frightened little mouse, | Scrambled madly to his house : | Across the floor. ) e —Nellie H. Ayres, in N. Y. Observer. | _ . - MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE.

He Was Only Twenty Years Old When He Joined the American Revo=lationary Army. .

No name in American history is regarded with more admiration than that of the gallant Marquis de La Fayette. He was not by birth an American, buta Frenchman, and more than a hundred years ago, out of love for the cause of

liberty and sympathy for the American colonists whom he believed to be oppressed by the English government, he left his splendid home in France and came to this country to help the patriots fight for their rights in the revolution. :

He was born at the castle of Chavagnae, France, Septembe'r 6, 1757, and

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THE MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE

when he offered his services to the American congress he was only 20 years old. Although so young and inexperienced, he belonged to one of the most powerful families of France, and his influence at court, through his wife’s relatives, as well as his own, was of the greatest assistance to us. :

In offering his help to congress, he purposed to bear all his own expenses in the campaigns. Congress was poor, and his services were gladly accepted. He was at once given an appointment on the 'staff of Gen. Washington,-and these two great men, both of the noblest character and the most generous minds, became lifelong friends. . In 1824 he was given a public invitation to visit the United States, and his travels' through this country were like a triumphal progress. Congress voted him a gift of $200,000 and 24,000 acres of land as a mark of appreciation for his services in the revolution. He died.in Paris May 24, 1834, and lies buried in a handsome tomb in the cemetery of Picpus in the Faubourg Saint Antoine.— Cincinnati Commercial Tribune. o

PUSSY SAVED THEM.

A Whole Family Escapes from & -Burning House, Thanks to a . ) . Cat’s Faithfulness.

Score one for pussy. A Bristol (England) cat a few days ago proved the means of saving a whole family from destruction by fire. At half-past two in the morning a shopkeeper named Ledo Schniedermann was aroused by his pet tabby, which was gently scratching his face. ' T He tried to drive her away, but as the faithful feline persisted, he aroused himself, to find the room full of smoke. He alarmed a lodger, Hermon Muller, who was sleeping on the same floor, and also his sister and an’otfier young woman. They all rushed to the stairs, where the flames were already spreading. - - _

With the exception of the lodger, the inmates, taking . puss with them, reached a landing, from which they escaped to the back yard. Just as the flames shot right through the spiral staircase, Muller, who had stopped to put on his boots, was cut off from escape. The flames reached his room, and then, throwing out some bedding, he leaped from the second story window. He badly sprained his ankle and was taken to the infirmary. = : " Music Kills a Young Horse. ‘Music caused the death of a beautiful three-year-old filly at Florence, Ala., the other day. A farmer drove his valuable young mare into town, and as he was driving up the principal street a brass band suddenly struck up its blatant music. The mare had never heard any sound like that before, and so startled was she that she dropped dead in the shafts of the trap. A veterinary surgeon who examined the car-

FOOLING A COYOTE.

Prank of a Western Pioneer Whielk g Did Not Turn Out Exactly as : e He Had Expected. 3

A pioneer who had traveled from Ime diana to. Oregon with ox teams once told an amusing story of his attempt to play a practical joke on a coyote. Of the thousands of coyotes that we saw in our overland trip, not one has ever shown a particle of aggressive spirit, and “to run like a scared coyote™ was our phrase to express the superiative degree of speed and fright. . Onme day, while strolling with my gun over some rolling hills in Oregon, I got occasional glimpses of a coyote following me. He appeared exceedingly sleepy_ and lazy, shambling along as if half asleep. As for me, I pretended not to see him, although T was secretly planning how I might fool him. But not until nearly four o’clock in the afternoon did I get the chance. -~ In crossing a ridge I found a large, dead, fallen tree. I walked on, as if going down_ into the next hollow; but as soon as I was sure that my head had ' e - g A L S | +<s 7 Z 1 . 4% )& : /-}“ A A _f/.j:/» é; ¢ Z s A s 2T € 8 "U\@;\\g y’(& - - ) « AN S : \’( = g ¢ s != £ - . PREPARING FOR A DASH. sunk out of sight, I slipped back and lay behind the log. My scheme was te frighten the brute, not to kill him, so I put aside my gun. It was some minutes before Isaw him coming down from the crest of the op‘posite ridge. - The gnarled roots of the tree held the trunk a little off the ground, so I could see beneath it. The

coyote was apparently satisfied that I was moving along, for he came on.

~After he reached the bottom of the hollow and started up the slope toward me he was out of my|sight, and he must be so until within ten feet of the log,

unless: he should diverge from his

straight course up the hill. Finally he appeared, slinking along, apparently half asleep. As he passed around mnear the gnarled roots, I gathered myself for a spring and drew in myv breath for a shout. -

The instant he showed himself I plunged forward frog-fashion, landing directly in front of him, and uttering vells so hideous that they almost frightened me.

The coyote was taken completely by surprise. He!shrank back so suddenly that his loose hide seemed to slip forward over his head. Exactly the reverse of what I expected happened. He made a desperate dash straight at me, viciously clicking his wicked teeth within a foot of my nose.

T scrambled backward down the hill as fast as I could. The coyote followed, snapping furiously. There was a broad patch of healthy prickly-pears, and I got among them, but did not notice the fact for a minute or two, as I was otherwise engaged.

. There was no time for me to get on my feet. The brute pressed me so close that a second lost would have resulted in his biting me. At least, I thought so. As I rolled over in the priekly-pear bed, the brute turned and whisked back over the ridge, seemingly very much frightened, but I failed to laugh at his fright. : I sat down and picked out the pricklypear spines, while the coyote sat down on the opposite ridge and looked at me. A strong desire to kill the brute took possession of me. I prolonged my hunt till dark, trying in every possible way to get within gunshot, but he could not again be fooled, ‘ I saw his exact counterpart the other day at a sheep-camp in northern Utah, but I tried no tricks with him.— Warren L. Wattis, in Youth’s Companion. N : )

DOLL MAKES PEACE.

A Child’s Plaything Once Upom =& " Time Keptthe Indians from Warring with the Whites.

A strange story is told of how a ehfid’s plaything once had a soothing inflaence upon a warlike Apache tribe, and was the means of avoiding a serious war. It happened when Mr. Bourke was in Arizona with Gen.Crooke. The general was trying to put a band of Apaches back on the reserve, but could not catch them without killing them, and . that he did not want todo. Oneday his | -men captured a little Indian éfi:\}nd/ took her to the fort. She was quietall day, saying not a word. but her black beads -of ‘eyes watched everything. ‘When night came, however, she broke - down and sobbed just as any white child would have done. - v ~ They tried in vain to comfort her, and e ‘then Mr. Bourke had an idea.- From the adjutant’s -wife he-borrowed a pretty doll that belonged to her little daugh‘ter; and when the young Apache wias made to understand thatit was hers her sobs ceased and she fell asleep. = ‘When morning came the doll wasstill clasped in her arms. She played with - it all day, and apparently all thoughtof ever getting back to her tribe had left e it e ‘Several days passed, and as no onf tures about the return of the pappoose had been made by the tribe, they sent het, with the doll still in her pomp‘**‘*“% sion, back to her people. raed . Mr. Bourke had no idea of the effect his benevolent act would have upon Indians. When the child reached | with the pretty dollin its chubby hands, it made a great sensation among them, and later on its mother came bxwk he: Wit oo o oS 6 R Sk Aa (he Seuctit fSadlaar