Plymouth Tribune, Volume 5, Number 39, Plymouth, Marshall County, 5 July 1906 — Page 3

for The Term of His Natural Life i By MARCU3 GLARJCH .

CHAPTER XXIV. Continued.) Between Eaglehawk an J Signal Ilill were, for the absconders, other danger. Along the Indented coast of Port Bunche were constables' stations, and to avoid them it would be necessary to make a circuit into the scrub. Unwilling a 4 he was to lose time, John Rex saw that to attempt to run the gauntlet of these four stations would be destruction. He ranged his men in single file; and, quitting the road near Norfolk Bay, made straight for the Neck. After nearly two hours of painful propres. Jemmy Vetch stopped and whispered them to approach. They were on a sandy rise. To the le$ wrs a black object a constable huf to tte right was a dim white line the ocean; in front was a row of lamps And between every two lamps leaped and ran- a dusky, indistinct body. Jemmy Vetch pointed with his lean forefinger. 'The 'dogs 7 Instinctively they crouch down, lest vea at that distance the two sentries. o plainly visible in the red light of the guard house fire, should see them. "Well," said , Gabbett, -what's to be done now?" As he spoke, a long, low howl broke from one of the chained hounds, and the -whole kennel burst Into hideoua OJtcry. John Rex, who perhaps was the bravest of the party, shuddered. "They bare smelled us," he said. "We must go on. Make for the right-hand side of the jetty. I think I see a boathere. It is our only chance now. We can never break through the station. Are we ready? Now! All together." Gabbett was fast outstripping the others by some three feet of . distance. There were eleven dogs, two of which "were placed on stages set out in the water, and they were so chained that their muzzles nearly touched. The giant leaped into the line, and with a blow of bis ax split the skull of the beast on his right. This action unluckily -took him within reach of the other dog, which ized him by the thigh. . "Fire!" cried McNab, from the other side of the lamps. The giant uttered a cry of rage and pain, and fell with the dog under him. It was, however, the dog that had pulled him down, and the musket ball intended for him struck Travers in the jaw. The unhappy villain fell. Gabbett clutched the mastiff's throat with iron hand, and forced him to loose his hold; then bellowing with fury, seized his ax. and sprang forward, mangled as he was,- upon the ' nearest soldier. Jemmy . Vetch had been beforehand with him. Uttering a low snarl, of hate, .he fired, and shot the sentry through the breast. The others rushed through the now broken cordon and made headlong for the boat. "Footer cried Rex, behind them. "Ton have wated. a shot! Look to yonr.'.eft!" Burgess hurried down the tram-road by his men, had tarried at Signa! Hill only long enough to loose the surprised guard from their bonds, and taking the Woody Island boat, was pulling with a fresh crew to fie Neck. The re-enforcement was not ten yards from the jetty. The Crow saw the danger, and, flinging himself into the water, desperately sMzd McNab's boat. "In with you for your lives!" "he cried. Another volley from the guard. spattered the water around the fugitives, but In the darkness the Ill-aimed bullets fell harmless. Gabbett siting himself over the sheets and seized an oar. "Cox, Bodenham, Greenhill! Now, push her oV. Jump, Tom. jump 7 and a Burgess leaped to landj Cornelius was dragged over the stern, , and the whaleboat floated Into deep ' vater. McXab, see in sr this, ran down tt the water iJe to aid the commandant. "Lift her over , the bar. men! he shouted. "With a will so!" And. raised 'in twelve strong arms, the pursuing craft slid across the isthmus. - Then, for the first time, the six prisoners, fairly in the net again, became aware that John Rex was not among them. At 8 o'clock the next morning the Pretty Mary stood out to sea with every stitch of canvas set alow and aloft. The skipper's fishing had come to an end. He had caught a shipwrecked seaman, who had been brought on hoard at daylight and was then at breakfast in the cabin. The crew winked at each other when the haggard mariner, attired In garments that seemed .remarkably well preserved, mounted the side. But they, none of them, were In a position to controvert the skipper's statement. "Where are we bound for?" asked John Rex. "I'm entirely in your hands, my worthy Blunt.". ' "My orders are to cruise about the whaling grounds until I meet aiy consort," returned Blunt, "and put you aboard er. She'll take yon back to jjyaney. l m victualed for a twelvemonth's trip."" "Right!" cried Rex, clapping his preserver on the back. Tm bound to get to Sydney nomehow; but, as the Philistines are abroad, I may as well tarry in Jericho till my beard be grown. Don't etare at my scriptural quotation," he Ädded. inspirited by creature comforts', and secure amidst his purchased friends! T assure you that I've had the very best religious Instruction. ' Indeed, it is chiefly owing to tay worthy " spiritual pastor and master that I am enabled to smoke this very villainous tobacco of yours at the present moment." Cn AFTER XXV. The lost-son of Sir Richard Devlne had returned to ' England and made claim to his naue and fortune. In other words. John Rex had successfully carried out the scheme by which he had usurped the rights of his old convict comrade. John Rex often wondered at the strange ease with which he had carried, out so monstrous end seemingly difficult an imponure. After he was landed in. Sydney by the vessel which Sarah Pnrfoy had sent to save him, he found himself a slave to a bondage scarcely less galling than that from which he had escaped the bondage of enforced companionship with an unloved woman. .The opportune death of one of her assigned servants enabled Sarah Purfoy to lastall the escaped convict in hi3 room. In the strange state of society which prevailed of necessity in New South Wales at that period, it was not unusual fr.-r assigned servants to marry among the free settlers, and when Jt was heard that Mrs. Furfoy, the widow of a whaling captain, had married John Carr, her storekeeper, transported for embezzlement, and with two years of his sentence yet to run, 'no one expressed surprise. Indeed, when, the year after, John Carr blossomed as an "expiree," master of a fine wife and a fne fortune, there were many about hini who would have made his existence In Australia pleasant enough. But John Re.c had no notion of remaining longer than he could help, and ceaselessly sought means of escape from his second prison Vuse. For a long time his search was unsuccessful. Much as she loved the scoundrel, Sarah Purfoy did not scru Ie to tell him that she had bought him. and regarded him as her property. lie knew that if he made any attempt to escape from his marriage bonds, the woman who had risked so much to save him would not hesitate to deliver him over to the authorities. T know you don't care for m now, John," she said, with grim complaceneji "but your life is in my hands, and

if you desert me I will bring yea to the gallows." In vain, in his secret eagerness to be rid of her, he raged and chafed. He

was tied hand and foot. She held bin J money, and her shrewd wit had more than doubled it. She was all-powerful, and he could but wait until her death or some lucky accident should rid him of hor, and leave him free to follow out the scheme he had matured. "Once rid of her," he thought. In his solitary rides over the station of which he was tha nominal owner, "the rest is easy. I shall return to England with a plausible story of shipwreck, and shall doubtless be received with open arms by the dear mother from whom I hare been so long parted. Richard Devine shall have his own again." One day the chance came to him. His wife was III. and the ungrateful scoundrel stole five hundred pounds, and. taking two horses, reached Sydney, and obtained passage in a vessel bound for Rio. Having escaped from thralldom, John Rex proceeded to play for the great stake of his life with the utmost caution. This was the tale he hit upon: lie had been saved from the burning Ilydaspen by a vessel bound for Rio. Ignorant of the death of Sir Richard, and prompted by the pride which was known to be a leading feature of his character, he had determined not to retnrn. until fortune should have bestowed upon him wealth at least equal to the inheritance from which he had been ousted. In Spanish America he had striven to accumulate that wealth in vain. Aa traveler, speculator, sailor, he had toiled for "fourteen years, and had failed. Worn out end penitent, he had returned home to find corner of English earth in which to lay his weary bones. The tale was plausible enough, and in the telling of it he was armed at all points. There was little fear that the navigator of the captured Osprey, the man who had lived in Chili, and "cut out" cattle on the Carrum Plains, would prove, lacking in knowledge of riding, seamanship, or Spanish customs. Moreover, he had determined cpon a course of action which showed his knowledge of human nature. ' The will under which Richard Devine inherited had been made when the testator was In the first hopeful glow of paternity. By its terms , Lady Devine was to receive a Jife interest of three thousand a year In . her husband's property which was placed In the hands of two trustees until her eldest son died, or attained the age tf twenty-five years. When either of these events should occur, the property, was to be realized. Lady Deviue receiving a taia of a hundred thousand pounds, the remainder going absolutely to the son. if living. The trustees appointed were Lady De vine's father. Col. Wotton Wade, and Mr. Silas Kuaid. Sir Richard's solicitor. Col. Wade, before his death, had appointed his own son, Mr. Francis Wade, to act in his stead. When Mr. Quaid died Francis Wade continued alone in his trust. Sir Richard's sister and-her hus band, Anthony Frere, of Bristol, were long ago dead, and their, representative, Maurice Frere, content at last in the lot that fortune had sent him, had given up all thought of meddling with his uncle's business. John Rex. therefore, in the person of the returned Richard, had but two persons to satisfy Mr. . Francis Wade and Lady . Devine. This he found to be the easiest task possible. Francis Wade was an invalid virtuoso, who detested business, and whose ambition was to be known as man of taste.. The possessor of a small independent income, he had resided at North End ever since his father's death. .When, at his sister's urgent wish, he assumed the sole responsibility of the estate, he put all the floating capital into three per cents, and was content to see the Interest accumulate. Lady Devine had never recovered the shock of th circumstances attending Sir Richard's death, and clinging to the belief in, her son's existence, regarded herself, as the mere guardian of his interests, to be displaced at any moment by his sudden return. The retired pair lived thus together, aüJ -spent in charity and bric-a-brae about a fourth of their mutual income. By both of them the return of the wanderer was hailed with delight. To Lady Devine it meant the realization of a lifelong hope. To Francis Wade it meant relief from the responsibility of looking after another person's money. "I shall not think of interfering with the arrangements which you have made, my -A'v uncie," said Mr, John Rex, on the. V night of his reception. "It won., be most ungrateful of me to do so. My wants are very few, and can easily be supplied. I will see your lawyers some day, and settle it." "See them at once, Richard; see them at once. I am no man of business, you know, but I think you will find all right." Richard, however, put off the visit from day to day. He desired to have as little ' to do' with lawyers as oossible. He had resolved upon his course of action. He would get money from his mother for immediate needs, and when that mother died he would assert his rights. "My rough life has unfitted me for drawing rooms, dear mother," he sail. "Do not let there be a display abcut my return. Give me a corner to smoke my pipe and I am happy." Lady Devine, with a loving, tender pity, for which ; John Rex could not altogether account, consented, and "Mr, Richard" soon , came to be regarded as a marty. to circumstances, a ruaa conscious of hh i own imperfections; and one whose Imper fections were, therefore, to be lightly dwelt upon. So the returned prodigal had his own suite of ' rooms,' his own servants, his own bank account, and was merry. Thus taken upon trust, Mr. Richard Devine mixed In the very best of bad society, . and had no lack of agreeable friends to help him to spend his money, &o admirably did he spend it, that Fran cis Wade became at last alarmed at the frequent drafts, and urged his nephew to bring his affairs to a final settlement. Richard Dfcvine in Paris, or Hamburg, or London, or elsewhere could never be got to attack business, and Mr. Francis Wade grew more and more anxious. The poor gentleman positively' became ill through the anxiety consequent npou his nephew's dissipations. "I wish, my dear Richard, that you would let me know what to do," he wrote. "I wish, my dear uncle, that you would do what you think best," was the nephew's reply. Mr. Wade began to repent of his too easy taking of matters In the beginning Not that he had a suspicion of Rex, but that he remembered that Dick was al ways a loose fish. He grew pale and hollow eyed. His digestion was impair ed. He ceased to take the interest in china which the Importance of that artl tie demanded. In a word, he grew depondent as to his fitness for his mission in life. Lady Ell inor saw a change in her brother. She wrote a long letter to Mr. Richard, who was at Faris, and begged him to come over at once. Mr Richard replied that some horse racing matter of great importance occupied his attention, -but that he would be at his town house on the 14th, and would "go Into matters." "I have lost a good deal of money lately, my dear mother," said Mr. Richard, "and the present will be a good opportunity to make a final settlement." The fact was that John Rex, now three years in undisturbed possession, considered that the moment had arrived for the carrying off. at on swoop

of the whol of the fortune he had gambled for. The town house of Mr. Richard Devine was decorated in conformity with the tastes of its owner. The pictures were pictures tt horses; the books were records of races, or novels purporting to describe sportjng life. Mr. Francis Wade, waiting for the coming of his nephew, sighed as he thought of the cultured quiet of North End House. Mr. Richard appeared in his dressing gown. Three years of good liring had deprived his figure of its athletic beauty, ne was past forty years of age. and the sudden cessation from severe bodily toil

had increased Rex's natural proneness to fat. and Instead of being portly he had become gross, nis cheeks were inflamed with the frequent application of hot and rebellious liquors to his blood. His hands were swollen, and not so steady as of yore. His whiskers were streaked with unhealthy gray. His eyes, bright and black as ever, lurked in a thicket of crow's feet. He had become prematurely bald. He spoke with assumed heart iness, in a- boisterpus tone of affected ease. "IIa, ha! My dear nncle, sit down. Delighted to see you. Have you breakfasted? of course you have. I was up rather late last night. Quite sure you won't have anything? No then sit down and tell me all the news of Hampstead. "Thank you. Richard," said the old gentleman, a little stiffly, "but I want some serious talk with you. What do you intend to do with the property? This indecision worries me. Either re lieve me of my trust, or be guide! by my advice." "Well, the fact is," said Richard, with a very ugly look on his face, "I am much pushed for money. The fact is, that that I am thinking of selling everything." T to continued. RIDING THE CIRCUIT. How Lincoln Slsde, the Beat of ltm " Annoyances and Discomforts. . The custom of riding the circuit was, of course, born of necessity, for in the early days there was not sufficient le gal business in any one of the small communities to support a lawyer, to say nothing of a law . firm. People who wanted to begin lawsuits usually sought their advisers In the largest town In their vicinity, or waited the arrival of the circuit judge and the attendant bar," when they could look over the field, and pick out the most available champion. Frequently, however, the local attorneys were retained to prepare the papers, with Instructions to select a good man for the court work when the circuit-riding bar arrived on the scene.' There was, therefore, an ex cellent chance of securing good business by constant attendance on the itinerant court, and the lawyer who visited all the counties was certain to De more widely known than any of his fellow practitioner! At the time of Lincoln's second partnership with Herndon, how ever, such work was more a matter of choice than necessity. Doubtless the firm could have made a satisfactory in come had the senior partner devoted himself to the courts nearest his home and maintained a brauch office in the distant counties, as other lawyers did; but he liked the freedom of the road, and the happiest days of his life were those be passed on these long legal tours. Traveling the circuit was compara tively comfortable in the fifties, but it still lacked something of the luxuries, and at times It involved hardships. which could be surmounted only by the best of health and spirits. The inconvenience and discomforts of the life were at times almost unbear able, but Lincoln was. never known to Join In the frequent protests and com plaints of his associates. Indeed, his sense of humor of tea saved the situa tion and made it tolerable. If not enjoy able, for himself and others. He saw the comic side of all that Irritated men of more nervous temperament, and he disposed of annoyances with a laugh so hearty and infectious that even the dis gruntled victims of petty misfortunes had to Join in his mlrtn. In an Indolent easy manner he studied the various types of human nature encountered on the road, took a direct personal Inter est in the people be met, and made friends at every stopping place. All the court clerks ana county omclals were clad to see him come and sorry to have him depart; he had a warm welcome - . at every tavern door, aua all sorts and conditions' of men claimed his close acquaintance. But, despite this general popularity, Lincoln was not, as be has frequently been depicted, a irresponsible hall-fellow-well-met, ramiliarly known as "Abe," who went about slapping peo ple on the back and encouraging simi lar salutations. Nothing could be fur ther from the truth than this. Judge Weldon Informed the writer that in all his acquaintance with Lincoln on the circuit the only person he ever heard address him by his first name was a street urchin whose impertinence as tonished the future President quite as much as It amused him, and there is no reason to believe that he courted such familiarities after he reached ma turity. From Frederick Trevor Hill's "Lincoln the Lawyer" in Century. Accounted For. Church I saw a funny picture of your friend Flatbush to-day. He had his right hand stretched out above hl3 Tjend. GothamYes, he tola me about that. It seems Just as the photographer was about to take It he called to Flatbush to move up a little. Flatbush forgot himself, thought he was an a car and reached for a strap." Yonkers States man. 1 According to the Doolc. Miles By the way, old man, do you believe In dreams? Giles You bet I do. One night about a month ago I dreamed that an angel ar.neared at my bedside and said, "Pre pare for the worst," then disappeared. Miles Well? Gi legThe very next da our coo!: left and my wife has been doing the cooking ever since. Kept III Word. Biggs Old Brown flied last night nitrzs Well, he was a man of his "OCT word, anyway. jllggs What do you mean by that? . Diggs Forty years ago he proposed to nn aunt of mine and declared ho couldn't live If she refused him. Blees And did she refuse him? T)iC2s Yes; and now, true to his word. Brown has ceased to live. They Go Where the Fishing;' Good. "Where do wicked little boys go to who fish on Sunday?" asked a teacher In a Sunday school. "Down to 'Cullom's dam," was the prompt reply of a boy. Boston Tran script. A steel chimney 200 feet high was recently successfully completed In South Wales. It is the tallest of Its kind in the world. Of the 50,000 Inhabitants of Jerusa lem two-thirds are Jews; many of them have blond hair.

lib

Girl Ilaelnll Umpire. Miss Amanda Clement, a student at Yankton (S. D.) College, is probably the only wom-.n baseball umpire in ithe country. She is 17 years old. handsome and healthy, and fills the oner ous position cf arbi ter ou the diamond with a grace and dignity that renders Iier decisions satis factory to all con 7;A mm testants. Her sight lis or the keenest. amanda clkstent. her knowledge of the game Is thorough and she has an intimate acquaintance with all the fine points and "inside plays." Miss Clem ents' .services . are equally sought by amateurs and professionals, and she has recelvinl urgent cal!s, both by wire and letter, to hold the "indicator" at baseball contests. Miss Clement, however, continues her studies at the col lege and is not at air disturbed by the peculiar fame that she has acquired. She receives pay and expenses for her work on the diamond, and could make an excellent living by umpiring, but has decided not to abandon her bcoks. With the money she already has earned she will be able to continue in school for a longer period than she had anticipated. Miss Clement's home is at Hudson. She received her knowledge of baseball through her brother, who is a profes sional player. She first started um piring for fun. but her work at once challenged recognition and she has become a prime favorite. Home Management. A managing woman is quite a term of reproach ; but it ought not to be so. for every wife and mother should try to be this. The fact Is that women feel this pretty generally, but a good manj' have not the tact and wisdom they need to help them in their work. Management, when recognized, is al ways rather resented both by children and grown-up people as an indignity. but a tactful woman never lets it be seen, and peace and happiness are as sured under her reign. She studies the dispositions of her husband, children, and dependents, and wins rather than drives. She is gentle and courteous, and requests and suggests far more than she commands. The great secret of successful man agement at home Is to keep your own temper, and to take care not to upset any one else's. In the control of her servants the good mistress gives praise where it Is deserved, and gives credit for good Intentions even where the per formance has not been wholly satisfac tory. If sometimes it is necessary to administer a reproof, she chooses a time when she can do so pleasautly. Harried Pollteneaa. "Will you?" asked a pleasant voice. And the husband answered, "Yes, my dear, with pleasure." It was quietly but heartily said; the tone, the man ner, the look, were perfectly natural, and very affectionate. We thought. How pleasant was that courteous re ply I How gratifying must it have been to the wife! Many husbands of ten rears' experience are ready enough with the courtesies' of . politeness to the roung ladles of their acquaintance, while they speak with abruptness to the wife, and do many rude little things without considering them worth an apolojry. The Ftranger whom they may have seen but yesterday is listened to with deference, and although the subject may not be of the pieasantest na ture, with a ready smile; while the poor wife, if she relates a domestic grievance. Is snubbed or listened to with Ill-concealed Impatience. Girl s Bretelle Salt. A. danty model carried out In dark blue silk, sprinkled with tiny polka dots in an uncertain shade of green. The skirt Is plaited and the suspend ers are divided for the sake of varia tlon, and trimmed with fancy buttons. With the suit is worn a simple blouse of blue taffeta. Crochet edle Dnrniiiff. . An unusually thrifty mother sug; that when holes in the heels or toes of the children's stockings are too big to darn, a good plan is to cut out the worn parts entirel', then with a crochet needle and some Saxony woo or darning cotton to go round aud round the hole, gradually diminishing the number of stitches until the hole is completely filled up. This, no doubt takes less time than if an attempt were made to darn the hole, to say nothing of Its being more lasting. Xatnre Price tor Health. Nature's price for health Is regular lty. We cannot safely bottle up sleep to-night for to-morrow night's use, nor force our stomachs at one meal be cause we expect to eat sparingly at the

ff fit- i ::&A

B1Ö

next, nor become exhausted in working day and night, expecting to make it 'tp later. Nature does nothing tefore her appointed time, and any attempt to hurry her invariably means ultimate disaster. She takes note of all our transactions, physical, mental and moral, and places every item to our credit. There is no such thing as cheating nature. She may not present her bill ou the day we. violate her law, but if we overdraw our account at her bank and give her a mortgage ou our minds and bodies, she will surely foreclose, says Woman's Life. She may lend us all we want, to-day, but to-morrow,, like Shylock, she will demand the last ounce of flesh. Nature does not excuse man for weakness, incompetence or ignorance. She demands that he be at the top of his condition. " The Attractive Girl Sinnt Avoid talking loudly, especially in public. Avoid making faces when she talks. and cultivate repose of countenance and manner. Avoid a blase air, and appear bright and Interested in what other people are saying. Avoid ostentatious dressing, or clothes evidently too elegant for her station or means. Avoid slang; it may sound amusing but it is anything but ladylike, and other people know it. 1 Avoid making unkind remarks about a person not present, as other people will consider whether she says such nasty things about them whea they are also out of the way. savs Woman's Life, Raftkln on a Cook. 'To be a good cook means the knowl edge of all fruits, herbs, b'.ms and spices, and of all that Is healing and sweet In fields and groves, and savory n meats; means carefulness and in ventiveness, watchfulness and readi ness of appliance. It means the econ omy of your great-grandmother?, and

FANCY PARISIAN BLOUSES.

The blouse Is always with us. and stay. The chic larlsienue has a trick lace with mousseline, and the effect A word to the wise," etc., will set the

attractive to thinking. So She who has blouses with spots of lace or embroidery had better line these particular places with the mousseline Instead

of employing the extravngance of an entire lining. The blouses In the illustration are examples of what are being mada on" the Rue de la Pali.

the science of mxlern chemists, it means much tasting and no wasting. It means English thoroughness, French art: and Arabian hospitality. It means, in fine, that you are to be perfectly and always ladles (loaf-givers), and are to see that every one has something nice to eat." Women Crtttes of Women. "Woman's -at best a contradiction still!" Such was the opinion or a poet whose crookinl back and sharp tongue made him no favorite with the ladles. But the sex sometimes Justifies Poie by the way It blazons Its own failings. Women writers short of "copy" turn In stinctively to the weaknesses of wo men. Recent months have been' especially prolific of sermons by women for worn.Ml 1 11.. ...-t..iaf ifj SWlt'lll 1 en. lue wouiu-im. a.uuw-i3 wide field with their strictures. To-day they accuse woman of lacking interest in public affairs, and to-morrow of tak ing interest In public affairs to the neglect of her home. One critic find her stingy of "tips," another deplores ner extravagance In gifts. She does not put ou h r clothes to grod ndvatctage, or he solids too much tfme, thought and money ou ner ciouie. uu iuc vuc hand she sweeps the streets with her skirts, on the other she wears her golf gown too short for modesty. Sometimes she is. accused of having no ca pacity for being "a good fellow" with husband or brother, and again she Is developing a taste for gambling and smoking. Kvideutly these conclusions cannot all le correct. Euripides said, "Woman is woman's natural ally;" but modern conditions have made her woman's nat ural critic. If men believed all that women say about one another, thd mar riage rate would decline. Fortunately, they take these feminine strictures with a grain of .salt; and, moreover, the man masculine definitely prefers A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food. Youths' Companion. Feminine View. Man is, when all is said, a vastly lovable being, and even his faults itideed, chiefly his faults have a most unholy attraction for ui Uut man the conquered is a very different creature from man the conqueror. The first is always ready, and longing, to afford us everything In the world we desireready to sell bis Immortal soul for our pleasure. The second grudges us a kind word. . Woman' Illithta. While It Is impracticable to consider the law In detail, generalizing It may be said that woman now possesses (1) complete control of her person and of her property, real and personal; (i freedom to enter into contracts; (3) the right to sue for Injuries to her character, person or property; (4) the joint custody of her children, though ti is is a . recent devel pmeut and it must be admitted that; the, excepted States far outnumber those. where the rule is in force; (5) in four States the

right of equal suffrage, and in twenty-

two others and two territories a re stricted right, applicable only to school affairs. Braid and Embroidery. Dressy effects are attained by the use of soutache braid, combined with hand embroidery, as a trimming for the taf feta suits In solid colors. This taffeta has the little bolero cut In battlements and outlined with several rows of sou tache braid, and broadening out on the shoulder so that the line of embroidery covers the sleeve top. This skirt is cut in battlements at knee height and com pleted with a flounce laid in clusters of plaits. The front panel and skirt edge are outlined with the braid and embroidery, and both jacket and skirt panel have a decoration of soutache ar ranged, in frogs held by small silk-covered buttons. The Girl Who Marries. Outside monetary conslderatloas, the girl who marries nowadays is the girl who does not smoke, does not play hockey or bridge, and particularly does not mix-bathe; in' fact, is perhaps eonfrom present indications it means to oc lining her good ones, touched with against the skin is soft and beautiful. wlmau who wishes to be dainty and sldered by some of her fellows as rath er soft and fluffy. Be this opinion Jus or otherwise, the result can not be d i nied, the soft and fluffy are the ona that score. Lady's Pictorial. In making a young girl's dress It la hard for the amateur dressmaker to attaiu the even length demanded of all short dresses. Hang the skirt proper ly and sew, it on the belt Try It on the girl who is to wear It and when it hangs as It should, take a stiff footrule and hold upright with one end on the floor. As the model turns slowly, mark the skirt very closely by the up per end of the ruler, with pins or chalk. Take off the skirt and spread it on the sewing table and outline the tracing by basting. Having decided how short you wish the skirt, you have simply to remember that the skirt Is gauged 12 inches from the floor. It Is easy now to keep It perfectly even by turning the hem the right number of Inches from the gauging line. llAnglng- Pictures. Often In putting up heavy pictures that are hung from a screw In the wall rather than from picture molding the greatest difficulty is experienced in get ting the screw to fasten securely in the plaster. Here Is a simple remedy which many professional picture hangers fol low In the course of a day's work. The hole made by the screw Is enlarged and the edges of the plaster are thoroughly moistened with water. Then the space is filled with plaster of paris and the screw pressed into the soft plas ter. When the plaster becomes hardened the pcrew will be found to hold very firmly. Don't noil 3111k for Children. Many children suffer from the effects of boiled milk ; therefore, careful moth ers have learned to make cocoa without it. Cocoa should be boiled slowly In water for half an hour and then put away In the ice box .In an earthen ves sei and heated when It is wanted to use. Milk that has been carefully warmed (not boiled) In the double boiler may then be added to It The cheerful man sees that every where the good outbalances the bad, ?ud that every evil has Its compensatlug balm.

m

SOLDIERS AT HOME.

THEY TELL SOME INTERESTING ANECDOTES OF THE WAR. How the Boys of Roth Armies Whiled Away Life in Camp Foraging; Ex periences, Tiresome Marches Thrilling Scenes on the Battlefield. Said the High Private (the very highest longitude and latitude in his company), we had a full fledged Ma sonic lodge in the army. When we were swinging around to Five Forks under General Sheridan, in the last days of March, 18G5, we passed a build ing in rear of our lines In front of Petersburg that had a Masonic emblem on It, and I was told by one of the Army of the Totomac boys that It was the hall of the Masons of the Army of the Potomac. . I know that Colonel Daa McCook's brigade, Army of the Cumberland, got a dispensation from the Grand lodge of the State of Illinois to do Masonic work and make Masons. It was named 'Wallace Mili tary Lodge,' and Colonel David D. Irons, Eighty-sixth Illinois Volunteer Infantry, was the worshipful master; Colonel Allen L. Fahnenstock, senior deacon (now of Glasford, IlL), and Captain Jo Major, treasurer (now of Eureka, 111.). The names of the other officers I have forgotten.' The lodge met in the Masonic lodge room at Murf reesboro, Tenn., In July, 1SG3, on Stone River battlefleld. "The next meeting was held March 6; 18G4, In one of the upper stories of Lee & Gordon's mill on the Chickamauga battlefield. April 23, 18G4, the third degree of Masonry was conferred on Colonel Dan McCook in the lodgeroom of Lee & Gordon's mill. Colonel Irons died in Nashville Aug. 11, 18C3, and Major J. F. Thomas, Eighty-sixth Illinois Volunteer Infantry, was master. Colonel Fahnestock was senior deacon when Colonel Dan was made a Mason. We had a good many Masons from other commands at our meetings, but I have forgotten their names. We had very little opDortunlty to hold lodge meetings after we broke camp at Chickamauga and started on the Atlantic campaign. There are a few men living who were made Masons In Lee & Gordon's mill. I believe Colonel Dan McCook 8 brigade lodge was unique and stood alone as the only lodge of Master Masons that held its meeting on battlefields where moment ous results were brought about, as at Stone River and Chickamauga, for Petersburg was not In fact a battlefield, but a besieged city 'The losses at Stone' River and Chickamauga for the numbers engaged stand by themselves so does Wallace MUtary Lodge as a battlefield lodge of Masons. I served in the Army of the Shenandoah, the Army of the James and Potomac, and the Army of the Cumberland, but never heard of any other secret body having an organiza tion or holding lodge meetings except as I have stated. "After we left Lee & Gordon's mills and fought Johnston back until we reached Kenesaw, Colonel Dan Mc Cook's brigade made the assauit on the dead angle of Kenesaw June 27, 18G4. The brigade made a lodgment within twenty-seven steps of the Confederate works, and we' held our position. At darn our wounded lay between our lines and the Confederate works. We removed all our wounded except those that lay at and near the Confederate works In the ditch and near the 4cheval du frieze In front thereof. These were beyond our reach. "Just before dark two of our Ma sonic brethren, badly wounded and sitting near a tree between the lines and near the enemy's breastworks. made themselves known as Masons to the Confederates. As soon as it was dark a Confederate who was a Mason slipped over their works to rescue our wounded men. Our sharpshooters had crawled forward a few feet as vidette pickets, and believing. the Confederate was intending to rob our dead and dy ing comrades fired upon and killed him. When we had the armistice to bury our dead we were informed by the Confederates that the man who was killed was endeavoring to succor our wounded Masonic brethren in response to their own appeals. In other words, this Confederate Damon, in his effort to aid his brother Pythias, sacrificed his life. "By the way. Major Daniel Mc Cook, Sr., was the first worshipful master of Lancaster Lodge, No. 10G, of Lancaster, Teoria County, 111., organized in ISol. When his son. Cadet Alexander McD. McCook, afterward Major General, graduated from' West Toint, and visited his home at Lan caster, he was made a Master Mason, his father conferring the degrees as worshipful master. Colonel A. L. Fabnestock was senior deacon. Did not the Major's act make his son his brother?" "Do you know," asked th Major, "that General Kelfer, now In Congress from the Springfield (Ohio) district, was 'one of the last men wounded In the Civil War? He entered the volunteer army In April, 1SG1, and served until after Lee's surrender In 1SG5. In nil that time he received three scratches, but shortly after the surrender he was scouting at the head of a small force of cavalry antt came suddenly upon a large force of Confederate cavalry. There was a skirmish In which Kelfer was wounded and in not been for the intervention of the Confederate commander, who, under the circumstances, simply wanted to be let alone. . '- "Kelfer returned to camp, had his wound dressed, reported to headquarters, and received special orders, and with re-enforcements started to find the derelict Confederates. He found them, and Colonel Tucker, the Confederate commander, surrendered. Kelfer carried Tucker's sword home with him, and.lt was kept in his library at Springfield as a trophy of the war. "In 1870 Kelfer was elected to Congress and In 18S1 was elected Speaker. Among his acquaintances in 1S79 was John Randolph Tucker of Virginia. In conversation one day Keifer told Tucker the story of the sword, and Tucker said the officer who surrendered the day of the skirmish was undoubtedly his brother. This fact being established, Kelfer took the sword to Washington and placed It In the hands of J. Randolph Tucker,' who restored It to its original owner. Now, after a quarter of a century has passed, Kelfer is again a member of Congress, and finds the son of J. Randolph Tucker in the father's seat" Chicago Inter Ocean. Survived Avrfnl Dlvaster. W. N. Goodrich, of Menominee, Mich., Is one of the few survivors of the great disaster of April 27, 1SC5, When more than 1.400 exchanged nrls-

oners returning to the North on DoaroT

the steamer Sultana were killed by the explosion of the vessel's boilers in the Mississippi River near Memphis, Tenn. A bomb, It is supposed, had been placed In the coal. When the explosion came, Goodrich was thrown into the river. He clung to a piece of wreckage and floated for some miles, finally drifting Into an eddy which carried him be neath an overhanging tree. Seizing the drooping branches he was enabled to draw himself to safety. Although it is nearly half a century since the ex plosion took place, Goodrich has never been able to forget the awful horror of those fatal moments. Tells of Death or Lincoln. One of the few men living to-day, the only man in Indianapolis, and perhaps In the Hoosier State, who can .recall the assaslnation of Abraham Lincoln, the martyr President, April 14, 1SC5, as an eye witness of the tragedy Is Professor William IL De Motte, an Inspector in the science department of the Indiana Institute for the Deaf and Dumb. Professor De Motte is now 73 years ' old, and Is one of the pioneer residents of the city. lie was seated in the Ford Theater when the historic event took place. It was expressly to see President Lincoln and General Grant, who was to Lae accompanied him to the theater, that he, with two friends, had decided to attend. He and his frlenda were among the closest spectators of the deed of John Wilkes Booth, the assassin, and as the body of Lincoln was borne from the theater they could "have dipped their hands in the mar tyr's bloody as Professor De Motte ex presses it Professor De Motte can relate much of interest about the stirring times which followed the surrender of General Lee of the Confederate Army to General Grant And particularly graphic Is his account of the assassination. "I was serving at the time," states Professor De Motte, "in Washington as military and sanitary agent for Indiana, an office created by Governor Morton, to look after the Indiana soldiery which was disabled or in need of attention for other reasons. My attendance at the theater resulted from the presence of two friends who wished to see Lincoln and Grant President Lincoln was seated partially behind a flag which draped the box. Grant had not yet arrived. Mrs. Lincoln was in plain view, and we were waiting for the President to move that we might have a better view of his face, when we noticed a tali, slender man, dressed neatly in black, pasj along the balcony and into the President's box. We heard a pistol shot and then saw the man step to the front railing of the box, and with a light graceful motion spring toward the stage. A spur on his heel caught the flag and be fell with one leg crushed under hlro. We saw him rise and stagger to his feet Then raising aloft a dagger his words, 'Sic semper tyrannis,' hissed in a stage whisper, fell clearly on our ears. He walked In a deliberate manner diagonally across the stage and disappeared in the wings. "Not until actors of the company had come before os and exclaimed. The President Is shot!' did the audience realize the tragedy they had witnessed. Booth had escaped. Scme histories have It he said. The South is avenged.' If he said these words I did not hear them." Professor De Motte describes la an Interesting manner the scenes that followed. He states that a feeling of awe at the boldness and the awfulness of the deed seemed to oppress the crowds so that there were no demonstrations of a riotous nature until after the body was removed. lie was one of the few who were permitted to see the body of the President at the White House following his death. Prof es; or De Motte rarely speaks of the experience which was his la being a witness of one of the most notable events of history. He has been persuaded ouly once or twice to address audiences of students at the institute where he is an Instructor, and never outside. He states that the reminiscence has a depressing and saddening effect He has frequently noted the deaths of witnesses of the tragedy la newspapers, and believes he is one of the very few survivors of that historic audience. American Tribune. Made the Chaplain Swear. Eliot M. Miller, a civil engineer ot New Orleans, tells how General V. S. Grant made his father, Chiplain Miller, swear. It was one of the chaplain's duths to receive and distribpte the mall to General Grant's staff. Whenever the mall was late he was greatly annoyed by questions as to the cause of the delay, time of arrival, etc. On one occasion, when the post was unusually late, the chaplain, for fear of losing his temper, attached the following notice to the door of his tent: "The chaplain does not know whoa the mall will arrive." Shortly afterward General Grant, parsing the chaplain's quarters, noticed the sign. He paused before It a moment and then walked slowly on his way. Coming out of his tent c fev moments later. Chaplain Miller was horrified to read: Tbe chaplain does not know when the mall will arrive, and he doesn't give a damn. Wortta neadinr. A single log of mahogany often brings as much as $3,000 at a sale. Ethiopia bought $847,000 worth ot cotton goods from . the United States last year. The government makes enough money on the cent pieces made to pay the entire expenses of the mint Ä calf, lost near Shrewsbury, Vt, fell In with a herd of deer, and was mothered and raised by one of those animals. A cotton picker machine has been invented which, it is claimed, will save one-third of the crop and the wages of twenty-eight men. Tostmaster Thomas of Boston is one. of the few really practical Indorsers of equality of the sexes and believes that if a woman does a man's work she should receive a man's pay. ' Lieutenant Spencer Churchill, son ot the late Lord Randolph Churchill, has been allowed to join the British force on the Indian frontier as a volunteer. It Is not altogether his baptism of fire, for he bias already reen something of warfare In Cuba. Some Tolish editors have a hard time. In a parting word to his readers the retiring proprietor ot! the Polish paper Gornoslazak says that during the five years of the papera existence the responsible editors have spent four and a half years In prison, while $3,730 has been paid In fine-