Plymouth Tribune, Volume 4, Number 1, Plymouth, Marshall County, 6 October 1904 — Page 3

oüftd by a Spell

CHAPTER XI. (Continued.) I begged her to let fie know what it was, as I was so anxious for anj suggeation that might help me. "Well, there's no harm in telling you, at aJl events. You saw that Mr. Montgomery. Well, you see, although hea muca broken down, he's a wonderful clever mnn, with heaps of learning, knows everything, an was once, tliey lay, a rich gentleman. . Well, now, I was thin"cin that if you could make up your mind to tell him a certain portion of your history, he would be the very man to advL?e yen and help you. No, I did not like the thought of taking Mr. Montgomery into my confidence. I could not tell why, but I was not agreeably Impressed with him. Another of my strange instincts. "Well, perhaps you're right, Master Silts, for he's a strange man. I can't make him out at all. lie's the quietest nna that ever breathed when sober; but he drinks hard, and then he mutters to himself, and tells stories about himself that makes your flesh creep. That youtg man. Fitzwalton. is regularly frightened at him when he's got one of them fits on him. He's come down here after they've gone to bed shaking with fright, saying that he could not stop in the room with him." No; I was determined I would rut no coEfilence In Mr. Montgomery. Martha now pressed upen me the necessity of making some change in my attire. She took me to a second-hand clothes shop, where, for a few dollars and my old coat to boot, I procured one "like what civilized people wore," as Martha phrased it. I bought a hat and necktie at the same place. Then she took me to a barber's. When I looked in the glass I found myself completely metamorphosed. I could scarcely recognize my own face and figure. The kind-hearted girl was in raptures. "There! I don't believe old Torter himself would know you!" she cried. While my money lasted I insisted upon paying so much for my board. Day by day my money dwindled down, until I had not a' penny left. Martha tried to cheer me with the assurance that something would "turn up" soon, and that when things came to the worst they were sure to mend, and such like bits of homely wisdom; but 1 was almost hopeless. At one time I thought of writing to Mr. Jonathan Rodwell, to ask him if he could assist me in any way; he had Sold me to do so If 'all else failed; but, then, he had made an express stipulation that I was to tell him everything. Plow little did I know myself! And even of that little there was much that I dared not reveal. Besides which, the nearness of his neighborhood to Bury St Edmund's would make any confidence dangerous, for what was more probable than that he would apply to the Iiev. Mr. Porter for a verification of my statements, and thus give that contemptible man a clue to my recapture? Day after day I walked through the streets, seeking employment. I applied for a clerkship, for the situation of light porter, for that of messenger, or even errand boy; but no person would engage me without reference, even in the humblest capacity. At times, 1 almost fainted with heat and lack of food. I felt such a poor, wretched waif among all that busy life, that eager crowd; every one seemed to Lave a purpose, work, except myself; I seemed only fit to creep Into a corner and die a mere useless Incubus upon the world. I have stood upon the bridges, as many poor wretches have done before me, and will continue to do while this stony-hearted city exists, and looked down upon the turbid stream that flows beneath; while .a voice whupered in my heart, "There you may find peace! Why do you hesitate? You have neither father, mother, nor friend to weep for you. Death will give rest to you. and do no wrong to any living being." Thus did the tempter tempt me, and only by prayer could I subdue the temptation. At length I avoided the neigh borhood of the river, which began to exert such an irresistible fjjfecination over me a fascination that I felr must overpower me at last, if I did not fly from iL I now took to wandering about the parks. It was there that an incident occurred to me that changed the whole eurrent of my thoughts and actions. CHAPTER XII. It was about G o'clock on a fine bright evening, at the latter end of September: I had been walking the streets sin 10 that morning, making a last effort to obtain employment. I might as well have asked those I applied to for their purses. Where had I been last? To whom could I refer for a character? I had never worked before I knew no on who could give me a character. Their manner changed; they looked upon me as a suspicious individual, and I could perceive that watchful eyes followed me until I was clear of the premises. I had made up my mind that I w u!d return to Martha's no more. I cou!d no longer smiure beinjc a burden upon a stranger. 1 dragged my weary limbs along a road, meeting happy looking couples and well-dresred people at every step, but no one like myself. It seemed as though all the misery had been swept oT the face of the earth, 'and I alone had been forgotten. I passed a first bridge, ijiJ a second; just beyond a portion of the hoarding that separates a park from the banks of a canal was broken away. Upon that spot I threw myself down a3 gazed upon the dark, sluggish waters., I began to picture in my mind the finding of my body the Jiext morning; how it would be dragged out of the water by hooks; how they would search It for papers, or other means of identification. The tears were streaming down my face, and, unconsciously, I was sobbing aloud. Suddenly I was startled by a light touch upon my shoulder, and a oft, woman's voice sounding in my ears. "What is the matter are . ou ill?" it aid. I turned round and hair rose from my prostrate position. The sun had set, and gray shadows were veiling7 the daylight; the thick, heavy trees darkening it yet more where I lay. My eyes were blurred witL tears, and I could not see distinctly; out I was sensible that a woman dressed in black was kneeling behind rae. She started back, half fearfully, u I moved; but something in my face Itemed to reassure her, for the next mofcteat she again advanced. brushed away my tears, rose to my feet and looked at her. She seemed about twenty; her figure very slight; a' sweet, pale, melancholy face; and light, golden hair, that fell in natural ringlets down r.pon her shoulSers. While I looked, a thrill ran through me. Was I dreaming? -hud my tcztica aJTcctad my brain? No, U was

T

she! My eager looks again frightened her. "I heard you sobbing, and I thought you were ill," she said, timidly. "Is there anything I can do for you? If not, pray pardon my intrusion." She drew further away from me as she spoke. No; I could foubt no more. That soft, musical voice, that had haunted me in my sleeps whose tones had never ceased reverberating in my soul, from the hour in which I had first heard them was still the same, although the face and form had grown older. "Do you not remember me?" I cried, in a trembling, eager voice. She thought I was mad, and a look of fear crept over her, but no sign of recognition. "Do you not remember Bury St. Edmund's the night I met you under the old gateway five years next month?" At the mention of Bury St. Edmund's I could see her face quiver. She paused for a moment after I had finished speaking; then she came close to me and looked steadfastly Into my face. "Yes; it is the same," she said, in a low voice. "How strange that we should meet again! I have often thought of you.' "I have never ceased thinking of you!" I answered. And I could not help my tone being a passionate one. She did not appear to remark my manner, but seemed half lost in reverie. We were now walking away from that dismal spot; the keeper were clearing the park. "Do you know," she said, speaking suddenly, "that I thought you were going to throw yourself into the canal, and that was why I spoke to you? Your eyes were fixed with such a strange look upon the water, and you were moaning so sadly." I shuddered. Already, the thought of my meditated crime terrified me. The despair was lifted off my heart in the last few moments, and life seemed worth preserving, after all. She seemed to read my guilt In my tell-tale looks. "But for you, I should now be lying at the bottom of that canal!" I answered, iu a low tone, and my tears fell fast. They relieved my sudden revulsion of feeling. "And I have saved you from such a wicked deed! It makes me so happy to think so!" she murmured. But why did you wish to drown yourself?" she asked. "Because my life was so wretched, so unendurable because I have no friends, no employment, no hope!"- I answered, mournfully. VI have no friends," she answered; in a sad voice; "but I have never wished to destroy myself; it would be so wicked." "Oh, I will nerr think of it again!" I said, eagerly. ' "But if you have no friends and no employment, you must want money. I can spare it; indeed I can. I give away a good deal. It will please me so much if you take It." This was said in such a simple pleading tone, so unconscious of offense, that it could not have mortified the most sensitive delicacy. But I could not accept "Please not to ask me; I cannot take it," I said. We walked on until we came to a street of small, pretty houses. "I live there,' she said, pointing to one which appeared to have been recently built. "I am late to-night; Mrs. Wilson will wonder where I am." "Is 6he your sister?" I asked, hazarding a guess. "Oh, no my landlady. As I told you,' I have no friends." "How very remarkable the coincidence has been!" I said, after an awkward pause. ."Do you remember when first we met?" , ( "You must not talk of that, please," she interrupted, hastily, with a shudder; "nor set me thinking of that time, or I shall see them all night in my sleep. But I must wish you good night." "And shall I not see you again?" I said, mournfully. "You shall come and see me, if you like," she said, innocently; but added, next moment, in a doubtful tcne, "1 do not know what Mrs. Wilson will say ibout it. Perhaps it is wrong. She J.nows all these things so much better than I do." My countenance fell, and she observed it, for she went on in a compassionate tone: "But it is so hard to have no friend no one to speak to, and no employment! I am so much better off than you! I have a good, kind friend to talk to, and to be good to me, In Mrs. Wilson; and then I have plenty of work." You shall come and see me, and I'll coax her to be good to you." , It was now quite dark. I could have lingered there all night listening to her voice, gazing upon her face. But she held out her hand. I pressed It, 'and we parted. But I could not quit the street. I lingered about a long time, until lights began to appear in the bedrooms of the houses. I arrived at Rackstraw'a buildings a little before eleven. Martha was quite uneasy, for I had never before been later than 10 o'clock. I told her that I had lost my way. "Why, you don't mean to say you've been wandering about ever since? Where ever could you have got to? How flushed you look! Whatever have you been doing? I never saw you look like it before." I tried to eat, but the food was dry nnd tasteless in my mouth. I waa overexcited. I was conscious, however, that Mr. Montgomery had again scanned me with the same scrutinizing gaze that had made me so uncomfortable the first morning I met him. I had scarcely seen him or Josiah since. I was usually out before they were up In the morning, and in bed before they returned from the theater at night. They were unusually earlyyhat evening, and I was unusually latV' "Youan writs a round, plain hand, can't you Mr. Carsten ?" at length said Mr. Montgomery. Then you're just the man 7, want I can give you some copying V do. The pay is small, hut a little, J perhaps, may be better than nothing, until you get something more profitable to do." ' h I nerd not say how eagerly I Jumped at the unexvitHed offer. The nature of the wort" was" to copy some parts from a manuscript drama. I went to bed that night with ft Usht heart I should rise the next morning to earn my first money. She waa the good angel of my destiny; she had saved my life, and hop had at last dawned upon me. I fell c"!c:p thhklzg of her, and her Image fcllo-arcd cs throughout the night Eagt:!y did I awtit the rising of Mr. Mcrt-rnrry next morning. "He takes a r"-t Iztcrc In you," said Martha. "Iz'z tli7zj s asking m if you've got tzjtl'rj to ö yet, cr any prefect, and T C : : i fa c'Jicr sly cita

tions now and then. Mr. Fitzwalton seems to have tcJd him all he knows." It was 11 o'clock before I sat down to my work. I soon understood what I had to do, and set about It with a hearty good will. "There! didn't I tell you. Master Silas, that, when things come to the ; worst they're sure to mend?" cried Marsha. "You did," I said, pressing her hand. "I was a heathen to doubt It" She little knew how fatal that doubt had like to have become. When Josiah and Mr. Montgomery returned at night my task waa completed. ' (To be continued.)

mfy fr sfr cfr se I COULD NOT SMOKE THEM OUT. An' American naval officer who was a student at the Naval Academy with. Commodore Matsmulla of the Japanese navy, recently wounded on the bridge of his ship, describes an experience during their student days, when the' young Japanese got the best of a hazing party. The New York Sun prints the story: A pluckier fellow than Matsmulla, a more level-headed chap I never met. He was graduated In 1S73. Part of the time his friend, Sartaro Ise, was in the academy with him. At the academy "Mats," as he was called, was very popular, and he was a midshipman when hazing was at its worst The Japs had never heard the word haze, and had no conception of its meaning. One night, hearing vC good deal of noise In their room, I went over, and when I opened the dcor all I could see was a dense smoke out of which came several arms. I was jerked into the room and the door closed. The Japs were being treated to a smoker. The windows were all closed, and even the7 keyhole and crack under the door were stuffed. On the narrow mantelpiece stood the future Japanese hero, Matsmulla, looking like one of his old fashioned Idols, but as smiling as a btsket'fcf chips, ne was ordered by the hazers to sing a song in Greek. Of the language he knew but two words, Alpha and Omega, and these he worked on so cleverly and with such good nature that he was lifted down. Both the Japs took , the medicine with a pluck that was their salvation. In half an hour the air In the room was unbearable, and even the hazers began to weaken. Two of them found It convenient to get out Then Mats spoke up. "We sorry you third-class ncn hare engagement," he said. "WV like you stay and smoke another pipe." Not a word was spoken. Most of the third-class men were at that stage when they did not dare to open their mouths. I con't know how long we could havw stood it I confess that I did not feel altogether happy myself when Mats said: "Any third-class gentleman like another pipe? There are plenty." The mere suggestion drove one of the hazers out Then one of them cried out that the officer of the day was coming, and they all tossed their pipes IntoUhe chlmney-placo and ran. It was a subterfuge to enable them to get out Mats had smoked them out "Thlrdclass men not smoke much, he said, with a laugh, as they disappeared. What clinched his popularity was that when the officer of the day did come along Mats room was still full of smoke, and Matsmulla took all the blame for the violation of the rule against smoking, and did not give the hazers away. BUYING RUBIES IN BURMA. A Peculiar Method of Bargaining for the Precious Stones. The peculiar business methods of Oriental merchants are Illustrated by the manner of buying rubles In Burma. In the examination of rubies artificial light is not used, the merchants holding that full sunlight alone can bring out the color and brilliancy of the gems. Sales must therefore, take place between 0 a. m. and 3 p. m., and the sky must be clear. The purchaser, placed near a window, has before him a large copper plate. The sellers come to him one by one, and each empties upon this plate his little bag of rubies. The purchaser proceeds to arrange them for valuation In a number of small heaps. The first division is Into three grades, according to size; each of these groups Is again divided into three piles, according to color, and each of these piles, in turn, is again divided Into three groups, according to shape. The bright copper plate has a curious use. The sunlight reflected from it through the stones brings out with true rubies, a color effect different from that with red spinels and tourmalines, which are thus easily separated. The buyer and seller then go through a very peculiar method of bargaining by signs, or rather grips, in perfect silence. After agreeing upon the fairness of the classification, they Join their right hands, covered with a handkerchief or the flap of a garment and by grips and pressures mutually understood among all these dealers they make, modify and accept proposal" of purchase and sale. The hands are then uncovered and the prices are recorded. Jewelers' Circular Weekly. Their Stand Pat. ! "Anyway" said the Philadelphia, man, "our. ball players are no cowards." "Oh, they're not, ehr sneered the rude New Yorker. "No, air, replied the Quaker. "You can't make 'em run." Iler Mission. Mrs. Homer I suppose your daughter Ls attending cooking school so she will he able to do her own cookin after her marriage? lira. Dppson Oh, my, no I She la golnj to writ a cook book. Pittsburg, where General Alexander Ilayf was born, proposes to erect a monument to her hero on the spot where he fell in the Wlldernera. Tha amount invented In ths Siberian Hallway is $101,700,000. Cmall eyes are connucnly cr; to Izilcata cunning. ::3

WINTER ' STYLE TIPS.

PICTURESQUENESS IS TO BE THE WATCHWORD. Old Fashions Are to Be Raked Up and Adapted to Modern Use Velvet Named as Favorite Material for Hollah Gowns New York correspondence: INTER fashions are to be strong in the element of picturesqueness. The period from which designers are choosing ls hardly more marked in this quality than were those from which the styles of spring and summer were rasen, out that is a point easgotten over. The fashions just passing were, for the most part, the result of the freest adaptation. Rarely was there more left of the original than its look of quaintness, so many and so thorough were the changes. Often the relation to old-time styles was not recognizable until after close consideration of the model. There 1 to be change in thi3 respect Gowns from the bejrinninir of the nineteenth cen-

mm

' (v lX wk M$Wk Hi -

DECORATIVE TRICKS FOR WINTER.

tury or from the last of the previous one are not to be transferred by wholesale, but the processes of adaptation will leav some features of the old modes untour ed or so little altered that they can readily ' traced. The accompanying touches of the current time- will be less assertive and, so far as most model getups now Indicate, they will be In harmony with picture effects raked up from the past It Is promised that good taste shall dominate all these showy fancies, and it is quite true, as claimed, that if viomen generally accept such standards there will be small cause for regret Bat the radical ideas of designers usually are moderated more or less by the time a majority of women are suited, and. it is not unlikely that the most striking of the new modes will finally be reserved for elaborate dressers exclusively. For others the suggestions of bygone plcturesqueness may be diminished, though it is likely to come In eviJence in some degree somewhere In the costume. You'll find axnotg the new materials hints of an attempt to satisfy both the admirers of showy effects and those of more moderate tastes. Take silks, which are to be again to the fore tr dressy use; there la a host of figured and flowered sorts.

M0EE PREPARATION FOB COLD WEATHER.

with much of bright coloring and Impressive figuring. They are Just suited to the echemes of those who would do oore reproducing than adapting. On ths other hand are quantities of solid cplor weaves, nor is this supply more C&n usually marked by brilliant coloring. Tb ctyhoess of browns, by Itself, Tposld C9Qtute a big saving dans. Urrra b to tav great vogui trd cptxrs In th best of materials. It la hat CD cf iray opportunities fox th won: en w!;o wish to dress quietly. , . Tiers will be more velvet in the winter drcfcrakiux tian there was hst yeur. Come of it will be put in the showy coats fashioned from lone ago. More will bs Ci in trimmings, and it is mdlsttti that the velvet gown will be much trrr? cctenoua than it has been of kia. ZZ19 XZT7 Cin vrcaves will be cr-tciiTy frrcrsl, each goods being far better adrt-

ed to shirring, gathering and the like than the heavier qualities. Skirts of such velvets are to be made tremendously full, and with puöng, shirring and other trimming will be elaborate enough. A coet bodice usually will accompany them. Velvet of heavier quality will be used for walking suits, corduroy weaves coming in here for great favor. A stylish crinkle will consist In trimming such suits with cloth bands. All the talk of severity that was heard more or less all summer is stilled. License will be given to suit yourself, and some very simple dressing will result, but it will be difficult to be picturesque and simple at the same time, so elaborateness will rule for dressy costumes, at least. Those put here, then, are not complex, by comparison with much that Is offered, but are to be graded as moderate, so abundant are the highly wrought effects. In the first picture is a brown veile trimmed with darker brown velvet bands and fancy buttons. Showy buttons, by" the way, are to be a feature of winter trimming. In the second picture are a fan zibelline, a goods actively revived, with bandings of darker tan leather having applique embroidery headings. A dotted white lace vest set off the bodice. Beside this the artist shows a dark blue henrietta cloth trimmed with lace of the same shade embroidered in gilt And next to this see a brown voile, with openwork medatldons over a darker brown silk foundation, with velvet vest and girdle of the darker shade. Medallions are to hold for winter, especially the open work sort A row of them about the hips is new use. In the second group there is at the left an example of the winter's continuance of the blue and green combination that

was so stylish in summer. This gown was blue ribelline, with green strappings iad buttons, vest and lower sleeves re en broadcloth knotted with blue, .then comes a black grenadine over black silk with lavish black lace applique. Last is a dark olive green broadcloth, with pleated skirt tucked at the bottom, with box-pleated coat paving fancy buttons and black braiding'. Little will be found in the designs put forward to Illustrate new fashions that is of simpler manner than is this. Recent taste in millinery was preparation for a season of showy headgear. Wide brims and graceful plumes will be in evidence,, and paradise feathers will be in demand such demand that few ordinary folk will employ them-because of their cost A more positive change will come in crowns, which are to compete with, though not at once to displace, the flat affairs in vogue for so long. But hats of moderate size and character will be numerous, and they will meet with cordial admiration because of the immense variety in them. Even In the small ones there is absence of types much duplicated, or recognizable in numerous sorts different one from another only In slight changes. Much chenille and felt braid is seen. Brown is as impresaiv here as in dress materials and trimmings. Bonnets are in revival and strings are to be a feature that will help youthful face, perhaps some not so youthful. Fashion Note. G laced kid ls considered cmart ca outln? hats. licet new silks art In chiffon cr catinliks tzX Wlis plotted rnchin? la very unbecoming to mzy. With a krwrlboct coat a woman la ready for anything. Hai cp your mind to tha wairtccatx; thry bare com to stay. CSt braid and burtons still dva vk tlcnc that ths xrar is net ended. nhr-nca are ccmlng In strong f;r fcrif dr:u ccita, end are very tmscti czJ

THE BATTLE-FIELDS.

OLD 60LDIERS TALK OVER ARMY EXPERIENCES. The Bine and the Gray Review Incidents of the Late War and in Graphic and Interesting Manner Tell of Camp March and Battle. "A good many of the boys," said the Doctor, "made mistakes in the last year of the war. The hundred days' men and the one-year men who enlisted In 1SG4 or early In 1SG5, were hard to hold after the surrender of Lee. Even some of the veterans who had re-enlisted were restive when tney saw the Confederate armies breaking up. They had enlisted fox the war, and now that the war waa over they wanted to go home. Those who for any reason were retained beyond their time became almost mutinous, and were only restrained from outbreaks by pride and sense of duty. The more reckless men, however, indifferent as to consequences. Immediate or remote, took the bits in their teeth and went their way. "These were the exceptions, however. Ninety-nine men in every hundred stood firm and true to the last as proud of their last service as of their first exu'.tant over the privilege of participating in the grand review at Washington, prizing beyond all other documents their honorable discharges, and returning home the better citizens because they had been good soldiers. We know much of these fellows because they have little to conceal and much to be increasingly proud of. Their records are as an open book, but there are others who in the last year of the war had adventures and experiences that were known only to their company officers or to their most intimate comrades or to men of my profession. "One of the strangest cases was that of one of the best soldiers In our regiment He was in, every engagement that came our way, and had been wounded six times when we camped in frontof Atlanta; but from every wound he recovered rapidly, and, as he exultantly said, never missed a march or a fight But in the battle in front of Atlanta he was lying on the ground, ready to fire, when a rebel bullet struck him in the shoulder and went through his body longitudinally. The wound was so serious and of so peculiar a character that he was sent North for treatment and landed finally In the Marine Hospital, Chicago. "Here he recovered rapidly, and in October, 1SG4, declared that he was able and ready for duty. He was held, however, for the November election, and was given large liberty in the last weeks of his stay. After he had voted, In November, he returned to bis resident served to the end of the war, and received an honorable discharge, which was of service to him in securing a homestead in the West His record, as known to all of his regiment except one man, was without a flaw; but as a matter of fact, he was a deserter several times over. "While waiting In Chicago he dressed In citizen's clothes, went to one of the recruiting camps, and enlisted, receiving the large bounty then paid. He made himself useful about the camp, Iril led the. raw recruits, gained the confidence of the officers in charge, and Easily secured leave to come to the city. Instead of returning, he dressed again m citizen's clothes, went to another ! camp, enlisted, received his bounty, serured leave, and, after reporting at the hospital, went to Indianapolis and played the same game, and th:n to another point In the end this one man j was responsible for ten reported de- ' lertions, was an expert bounty Jumper, and yet in actual service had a record to be proud of." j "I remember," said the Major, "a ' bright young fellow who came to us from the Third Ohio, in June, 1851. He nils ted in our company, explained simply that his company in the Third had gone to pieces on the three, years' ques tion, and. finding himself out in the cold, he had come over to us. Later it appeared that he had told the truth, rxcept as to the manner of his leaving. When his company seemed on the point af breaking up he left camp disgusted; but the next week most of the men detided to enlist for three years, and the missing man was reported as a deserter. "He served a year in our regiment when he received a visit from an officer of the Third. Possibly the ofiicer threatened him, for the next day he disappeared, and we never heard of him again, except in a vague way. One af our boys was sure that he saw him In another division in the mix-up at Chlckamauga, bareheaded and fighting among the best of the desperate fighters of that day; but there was no way to trace him, and. in truth, no one cared to do It lie probably served creditably through the war; and yet he waa, on the rolls, twice a deserter. "In another case, an impulsive Irish boy, who was among the first to enlist tn 1881, took French leave after three weeks' service. 0ne day his captain sentenced him to carry a knapsack loaded- with brick, as punishment for some Infraction of the rules. Pat resented this, left the company that night, enlisted in another regiment, served tbree full years, received an honorable discharge, and on his way home was arrested as a deserter from the company in which he first enlisted. 5Tbe old regiment was recruiting with re-enlisted veterans as a nucleus, and Pat comprcolsed by taking , service; and he was not discharged until 1SCGL" Chicago Inter Ocean. ' Business for the Doctor. There are a good many Incidents of army life," said the Major, "which, if not told pretty soon, will not be told at all. They are not regarded as important enough to be classed as history, and yet history never will be history without them. The story of how Dr. A. O. Rankin brought 400 wounded men from ShilOh to Mound City has been told, but one little incident of the remarkable journey has been lost djht of. "When Dr. Ttankln of the EightyEighth Illinois was ordered without an toura notice to report on one cf tha teats at Chiloh, crowded with wctrnic2. La cacght up his casa cf imtn

mtnts and went on board, expKrting s temporary assignment He found himself in charge of 400 wounded with no nurses, no bandages, and 6cant .accommodations. But the boat started northward, and he was told to do the best he could until he got the poor fellows on shore in their home State at Mound City. He detailed the guards and slightly wounded for duty, but could dress few wounds, because be had no bandages. "At last he went to the captain of the boat and asked that the bed and table linen be turned over to him for bandages. The captain laughed at the suggestion, but Bankin told him the case was desperate, and he must have the bandages. If the linen was not forthcoming be would authorize the guards to seize It The captain surrendered, the bandages were made ready In short order, and when the wounded were carried off at Mound City all had been properly cared for. In the meantime Dr. Rankin had scarcely had an hour's sleep.

Made No Shoes for Beb. A white-haired, elderly man stood in Doric hall at the state house the other day Intently gazing at the battle flags of the Massachusetts regiments that fought to preserve the Union from 1S81 to 1SG5. lie lingered long, and seemed to be greatly Interested in the torn and tattered standards, says the Boston Globe. A visitor noticed the man and, stepping up to him, said: "You appear to be interested in those flags?" "I think I have a right to be, sir, replied the cid gentleman. "That flag," said he, pointing to the shotriddled colors of the 19th regime!; "was captured from me In front of Petersburg by the rebels, June 22, 1SGL Thirty years afterward, by an act of Congress, it was returned to the State and I had the honor of delivering it to thtf governor of the commonwealth." "That's remarkable." said the visitor, and the two fell to talking abost the Stirling days of the war, and tha different engagements that the old 10th regiment participated in. Tha color bearer was Sergeant Michael Scannell of Lynn, who, although 78 years old, is hale and hearty, and is known by every Grand Army man In Essex county: Little by little Scainell was Induced to tell the story of the capture of the colors at Petersburg. "We were brigaded with the 42d New York and the 15th Massachusetts," said Sergeant Scannell, "and we were ordered to advance. There was evidently some mistake, as when we moved out.it left a gap that General Mahone was quick to see and take advantage of. Without any idea of the perilous position we occupied we moved forward in the best of spirits. "Quicker than it takes to say 'Jack Robinson,' the rebs swooped down upon us and we were powerless to resist capture. It was all up with as and there was nothing to do but surrender. A rebel officer rode up to me, and, with a long oath, demanded the colors. 'Give me those colors, yon Yankee, blankety, blankety blank, said he, with his gnn pointed at my head. "I looked at him coolly and, straightening myself up, said: 'Sir, I have been In this country nearly twenty years, and you are the first man to call me a Yankee. Take the colors. You're welcome to them. Scannell, with the rest of the regiment, was hustled off to AndersoL villa and spent nearly twelve month? in rebel prisons, suffering untold misery. One day while at Andersonville a rebel officer came through shouting the name of Sergeant Scannell. 'Thafs me," replied Scannell. He was ordered to make shoes for the rebs, as he had been a shoemaker at Haverhill before the war. "Never!" said Scannell. "Neverl The rebel officer argued with him and told him that he would get better food and treatment if he went into the shoe shop and that he would have a chance to recover from the scurvy that had attacked him. But Scann pJl was firm. "Never!" was the repl "Do yon think that I am going to go tack on the flag of my adopted country and make shoes for rebs? Not while I have my senses about me." Grant Laconic Vicksbnrar Letter. President Guild, of the Boston Art Club, says a letter from that city, has in his possession a letter written bj General Ulysses S. Grant after the fall of Vicksburg, which furnishes an example of the remarkably concise expression for which the great General was noted. Even the magnitude of the event did not excite any exuberance of jubilation. Following is aa exact copy of the letter, which is addressed to his father, at that time living in Ohio: Vicksburg, July 6, 1S03. Dear Father Vicksburg has at list surrendered after a siege of over forty days. The surrender took place on the morning of the Fourth of July. I found I had continuously underestimated the force of the enemy, both In men and artillery. The number of prisoners surrendered was 30,200. Tüe process of paroling is so tedious, however, that many who are deslrons f getting to their homes will escape befove the paroling officers get around to them. The arms taken are abotä 180 pieces of artillery and over 30,00 stand of small arms. The enemy still had about four days' rations of fionx and meat and a large quantity of sogar. The weather is now exceedingly warm and the roads Intolerably dusty. It cannot be expected under these circumstances tiat the health cf this command can leep up as it hs done. My troops were not allowed one hour's time after the surrender, but were at once started after other game. My health has continued good during the campaign which has just closed. Remember me to all at home Ulysses. Don't Marry This Han. To reform him. Who ls a pessimist Who is fickle in his affecticnx Who is chiftless In every thir. Whosa wcrd yon cannot rely rpen. Who U an fciTctcrata rrrttj