St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 22, Number 38, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 10 April 1897 — Page 2
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CHAPTER XXIIX. Strange was the scene presented by the harbor of Alexandria on Wednesday night. The city seemed half enveloped in sgheets of flame and clouds of lurid smoke: the water lay deep in shadow. From a distance the town looked like one huge bonfire. On nearing the shore no sound could be heard but that of the flames, “a mere whisper at first,”” as an eye witness wrote, “but rising to a roar of crackling detonations, mingled with the heavy crashes of falling roofs, timbers and walls.” Early in the morning of Thursday a number of persons were seen on the shore, __ «lose to the edge of the water; and glasses k... &howed them to be Buropeans. Boats
o 0 '%fi,;mmedlamly lowered from the menm “war, and armed crews started for the shore. They found nearly a hundred - Europeans, who had taken refuge in the Anglo-Egyptian Bank, and there defended themselves throughout the night against the attacks of the mob. Toward ‘ daybreak the Arabs retired, and then they formed a square, put the women, children and unarmed men in the midst, and marched through the burning town down to the shore. Sixty of them were received on board the Helicon, and gave a frightful account of their terror and sufferings. Cries and shrieks and reports of pistols had been heard, they said, on every side; and hundreds of Kuropeans must have been killed in their neighborhood. They reported the town on fire in several places, “the European quarter in flames, and the gfiront square a mass of smoking ruins.” o b s = a & - oLI b -e
From the very beginning of the bambardment the state of the town had been one of license, pillage, incendiarism and murder. The Helicon steamed out of the harbor to tranship its burden of fugitives on board the merchant vessels: and the fugitives themselves were treated with every possible care and attention. Harold Dumaresq, eager to obtain details concernIng the state of the city and the fate of his father's property, was forward in questioning persons with whom he had any acquaintance. And among these he presently came across the Maltese family, who had formerly looked after Mr. Calcott's lodgings, where Denzil Lawrence had lived for the last few weeks. They had taken refuge in the Anglo-Egyptian Bank. and made their way with the rest of the party there to the shore. Os these people Harold instantly and eagerly inguired whether they had seen the English gentleman—their master's friend—who had certainly been in the town on Sunday, and of whom he had since heard nothing. For now at last inquiries were praticable: and Harold began seriously to fear that Lawrence had never come on board at all, In common with his family, he had regarded Lawrence as Anne's lover; and it was terrible to him to think of Auane's desolation, should fatal harm have befallen him. Was it possible that Lawrence - was still waiting for relief in that deserted house? Or had the flames devoured it, and left not a trace of him behind? His first impulse was to seek out KastJake and tell the whole story to him. This was no easy matter; but finally he managed to get on board the Tanjore, to find his friend, and pour the information he had received into KEastlake's ears, He was not surprised to see Eastlake turn pale during the recital. Both of them felt some useless self-reproach for not having insisted upon seeing lLawrence on board ship. “But,” as Harold remarked, “after all, we did our best. We never thought he would be such a fool as to stay.” “Don’t call him a fool,” said Kastlake in a low tone. “What, you think there's no hope?”’ Eastlake made no answer. ' Neither of them could rest without try-. ing to ascertain the truth. Harold went to the authorities, told them what he had heard, and begged to be allowed to accompany the first landing party as interpreter, guide, anything, so that he might go on shore and test for himself the truth of Francesca's story. He would gladly have gone alone, in spite of the real danger of such an expedition, had he been allowed ) to do so. He was treated kindly and considerately, listened to with interest and svmpathy, and finally permitted to go with the party of marines and seamen that were to land that very afternoon. With some difficulty he got permission for Eastlake to accompany him. Four hundred and fifty marines and fifty seamen were to land and march through the town for the purpose of rescuing any Christians who might still be in concealment, and to arrest the progress ‘of the plundering. Upon landing they passed through some fairly quiet streets, ._w : & re i?.gm.e d not to have penetr they came to 6 the lower Euro . ter the scene was changed. :‘ Here the fire had raged unchecked, and | ruing of the houses smoldered on uithc-ri side of the road. Volumes of smoke obgcured the way, and the path was blocked ‘ with heaps of stone and brick, over which | it was difficult to pass. There was dan- i ger from the broken walls and loose beams | of wood which now and then feil in with | a crash, scattering sparks, splinters of burning wood and fragments of stone in the way of the exploring party; danger also from the Arabs, lest a band of them should lurk in ambush behind some wall or broken window and fire upon the English as they passed by. But the soldiers who turned out at the Governor's house and the Zaptieth saluted humbly, and pointed to the ribbon that they wore npon itheir gleeves in token of allegiance to the Khedive: and all the Arabs showed a sub dued and even cringing mien. The great square at last was reached, and here the men who had known it of old stood aghast, Where indeed was the square now! Nothing seemed to remain, through the clouds of lurid smoke, except the great equestrian statue of Mehemet Ali and the Tribunals. ach side of the square was a blazing wreck. The English church protected by its gardens, seemed unhurt; but the other buildings were completely gutted. The openings of well-known streets were undistinguishable; masses of flames gnd smoke obscured the view in all direcgions. The marines could not even see what was discovered later, that the trees
were still green and the fountain playing | in the center of the square. They marched on undisturbed, while those who had known the place for half their lives led the way with pale, set faces, looking in vain for spots which they had scarcely known were dear until the ravages of war had ' destroyed every trace of them forever, ! Dumaresq and Eastlake were allowed | to direct the marines to the spot where Calcott's house stood. They found it with some ditliculty. All the old landrgarks were so obscured that it was a hard task to reach any settled place. But the | flames had been arrested in some way before they reached this block of buildings. | The doors stcod open, and the lower rooms | had been looted; but the way was clear’ | to the upper stories, and the house was
| silent as the grave. .- After the stifling heat of the smokeladen atmosphere it was refreshing to stand upon the dark, cool marble steps. Eastlake and one of the officers mounted them. Dumaresq behind: some of the marines followed. Their enterprise seemed a doubtful one; they did not know whether the house contained enemies or friends or anybody at all; but the risk was worth running for the chance of saving an Englishman's life. And there were stains of blood and fragments of torn garments and broken weapons upon the steps. “This is the door,” said Harold, in a low, troubled voice. *“lt is unlocked—perhaps he escaped.” Eastlake did not speak, He pushed the door open and entered the room in silence. “Open the window,"” said the officer in charge.
wAREmAeD Y : One of the lpnrinen flung it wide open ‘|and the red light of the burning town | flashed in through a heavy rolling cloud of smoke. It revealed Bastlake already "{on his knees beside one of the prostrate l !i‘znreswthnt of the only Englishman, | The others were Arabs: one a soldier, the | other evidently a servant— hoth dead., Ax | Eastlake held Denzil Lawrence's hand {in his, and lifted his cold face to the light, Dumaresq came and bent down beside | him, There was a little panse. Dumaresq | rose first, went to the window and leaned out. Kastlake supported on his arm the motionless head of the man whom he had never called his friend and felt that for Anne's sake he would give the world to call back the warmth to those icy lps, the natural color to those sunken, ghastly cheeks, For Anne's sake! Yes, for Anne had loved this man, Denzil Lawrence, who here lay upon his arm. “He has a letter in his hand.” said Dumaresq to Kastlake. “Will you take it? I think it was one from Anne.” “Noj; let him keep it,” said Eastlake, with a sigh. “But he has written something on it, | T think. See, there is writing—l can't | make out the words. Will you?” “Forgive me, Anne!” They summoned an officer as the white lips of the unconscious man began to move. He was grievously wounded, but as the surgeon bent over him an hour later and stated that close care and quiet might afford him a chance of life, Dumaresq whispered to his friend: ¢ | “We will give him that chance. Wao must get him home to England " “And Anne,” added Eastlake softly. { OEBAFPTER XXX. j In August Mrs, Dumaresq and her family were still abroad. They had tuken a | charming old chateau which stood empty | near the little village of C——, for a few |- weeks; Mr. Dumaresq wanted his children | to talk French and run wild at the same ' time, and this place seemed to afford good ( opportunities for doing both, Michelle came down the hillside, against which the gray old chateau made a pretty picture, with its narrow windows and stately turrets, and approached the start lingly white new church which :-wmm-d} to stand half way between the chatean ’ and the village, higher than the one, lower than the other. ‘ The sunshine lay tenderly upon the pur- { plish rocks, the gray green foliage of the | olive trees, the white walls of the cottages. Michelle looked at it with absent. I | serious eyes, and presently turned round | and went into the church. Nome one saw and followed her. It was not long before some one entered the church and stood for a few minutes, where, unobserved, he could look upon her face, | What a change came over her pensive face when she saw him! It flashed into sudden brightness and joy: the color rush- 1 ed over her cheeks and brow; the light | came into her eyes. She held out both | her hands to him. Then she would have | drawn them back, but he seized and held them fast. 1 “You did not expect me, did vou”" he | | said, looking down at her with his old | %gvnth- look, in which there mingled some | I new feeling, which she could not under- ! j stand. *I saw you go into the church as |’ I came up the hill from the village, and ‘ iso I followed.” L | “Followed! Have you been waiting?” ‘ ‘ “I have been waiting, and—if 1 must ! . ‘wmf('ss it—watching, too. What m:\lu-s! yvou come here, Michelle?” | *T like the quiet,” she said, hesitatingly. | “It is a good place to sit in and to think-—-" ! ‘ “To think,” he said, “how cold and un- | i kind your next letter to me should lu-.! |:md what amount of distrust you could | | show me.” l | “Oh, Paul,” she said, piteously, “you il\'nuw I did not mean to be unkind.” l‘ And then she made a movement as if to ' withdraw her hand from his, but again | he held it fast. | “ILiet us walk up this shady road and | discuss the matter quietly,” said ]']ust-] lake. “Jt was your last letter thu:i ll)rmu:ht me here, Michelle—the one you wrote to England. 1 knew my answer must be given in person; written \v()rdsl would have no effect. So here I am—to | plead my own cause.” Possibly the last sentence surprised her, for she lifted her long eyelashes as if to look into his face, and then dropped them hurriedly. i “I was where you expected me to be,” Lhe continued. *‘l was with Anne. But vou would never have grudged my pass|ing wvigit to her, if you had known. I | went to her to comfort her amid new trib-
3 T e | ulations, for Clare, her newly ma !frpnd, had followed her mother to th grave. I'ragile, drooping Hower, the grie a cold contracted at sea, and she faded away in the arms of the best and ? . est of women, 1 went to her to give to he keeping a new (-hnrge--Lawrence.flgf: had sought death in the bitterness silence, but he has found new life in the lasting sunshine of her smiles, for—they are married,” : “Oh, PPaunl!” K “My love for her, such as it was, seems ’ like a dream to me now,” went on Ka -l lake. “When she refused me I was pains ed and disappointed, but by and by | found out that I had never loved her as she ought to have been loved. 1 only found that out, Michelle, when 1 began to love gomebedy else.” ,a Michelle's head drooped, and the warm color stole into her face. She stood with her hands clasped nervously before heff like a child entreating pardon. But I eyes and face were full of Joftier passions than those of which a child is capable | full of courage, and a pathetic resigna tion to her fate which Eastlake found | expressibly touching. He wanted to co fort and reassure her, but she shr back when he drew near, and allowed | only to answer her in a few brief, e words. Then she went on: o “It is easier gn' m?‘ :ohnpeia.k,u.; you have said that. Although I was r | taken about Anne, £am sure I waggl | on another point. T have thought it a great deal since we came here." il She paused aud seemed to be colle her energies for further speech of a | | difticult nature. Kastlake looked at | steadily, inquiringly, and with a kind | tender admiration in his face, 5 “When you asked me to be your wife % Michelle said, with a sudden rush of eri son to her pale cheeks, “I was such & child that I did not notice how yvou asked me. You wanted my love, you said; but you did not say that you could love me in return. And 1 was foolish enough to forget this. Don't you see, Paul, that now. that 1 am a woman, I cannot be content with this? You do not love me: whether you love any one else has nothing to do with the question; you do not love me, And so I set you free, and ask you to set me free, too.” ! “I have listened quite long enough,” said Kastlake, with a rapidity which be= tokened some agitation. *‘Listen to me now, Michelle. You are right on one point; when I asked you to IMUrry me you were little more to me than a child, a dear child whom I had petted for many years, but whom 1 never thought of loving as a woman should be loved. But when we {quurn-lod. Michelle-~when you were cold l to me and distant—at first I was angry, then uneasy, then— Why, then, Michelle, , You were going away, and I had no time | to ask you to forgive me for my thought- | | lessness, my harshness, my stupid incapability of understanding you. 1 meant to do it, but I was too late. It was then that 1 found out, Michelle, that you were 4 woman, not a child, and the only womain in the world that I conld love. My | darling, will you not believe me " - Her eyes dilated with incredulous surprige; her color came and went. She held } her breath as she listened to these words | —-%6 unexpected, so incredible, so delight- ’ ful—-and she could not for her life have told him whether she believed them or not. He continued in the same vehement toness, 1 tell you, Michelle, that I haw thought and dreamed of you by dav & ‘night ever since 1 last caught sight o vour dear face on board the vessel whiclid took you from me. My love, forgive mes If you have suffered, I have suffered, too, beenuse I thought that by my own actions 1 had estranged your heart from mine. ‘Pell me that it is not so, Michelle; tell me that 1 may at least try to win back the love that I deserved so little, and did my best to throw away. Dearest, may I try " With his arms round Michelle's waist and her head upon his shoulder, he could not feel doubtful of her answer. But he was not content until he had heard her sy “Paul, there is no need. I have loved vou all my life. 1 love vou still.” {"The ¢nd.) Serpent on a Florida Key. Black PPoint Key, Florida, is now Known as “"“Snake” Key from the fact that a buge Brazilian boa has had control of the island, much to the terror of the guides who go there and the few inhabitants of the close-by islands. The story is that several years ago a steamer witha circus on board foundered off the island. The snake was then possibly ten feet iong, but reliable persons state that it is now thirty feet long, and of generous proportions otherwise, Indian guides are afraid to go there since last fall, when two of their number were killed by some mysterious thing, and the snake was blamed for it. Several other persons who ventured to land have disappeared. and tourists now cannot get guides to go there to explore the island, which is about fifty acres in extent and thickly grown with low shrubs, W. Ralston. agent for the Smithsonlan Institution snake department, has undertaken for the East Coast Raflway Company to capture the “serpent,” and he intends to go there at once. He states that he has no fear of his abilitly to cateh it. He has reliable reports of its existence, and thinks it is there sure snough. He says that he will prepare a huge canvas, 4x7x50 feet, and will manage with bait to attract the sSers pent in. When once it begins to crawl in it will continue going. “After I get him once headed for the bag he's my meat,” said Ralston, confidently. Ralston is an expert with serpents, handling all kinds with utter fearlessness.—St. L.ouis Globe-Demo-crat. The Circle County,. The oddest shaped county along the 3.000 which go to make up the separate divisions of the various States ils Warren County, Tennessee. It lies almost exactly in the geographical center of the State mentioned and is about as near a perfect circle as any division of land could possibly be. The circle would be perfect but for the fact that there ig a short stretch of the northern boundary line which follows a small stream for a short distance. It is bounded by Cannon, DeKalb, Coffee, Grundy, Van Buren and White Counties, and is in no way remarkable except in shape.—St, Louis Republie.
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PN ,41:,, e T’ ’ g S ’ et /’;/ f % S U MUCH SKIN DOCTORING. ‘ SPECIALIST says too many B women do their complexions to 4 death, At a recent lecture, one yman declared that she was 30 years ige,and “I've been taking care of my nplexion steadily for ten years, and ust wish you'd notice what a fright i, I've tried tincture of benzoin, Jycerin and rose water, a face mask, "Steaming and massage, and if there’'s a ugher, uglier, rougher, more shrivelM ’ face on any woman of my o ~eity, then she can have the wpitie ribbon for downright homeliness.’” 4 “Youve doctored your complexion ,% to death,” answered her friend, quietly. “Many women do. They use Lpreparations, excellent in themselves § Otten, but not suited to their requireJ ments. Tincture of benzoin is very ‘ ”r!mentnl to oily skins. The familiar | rose water and glycerin, in the major- ] ity of instances, makes the complexion y dry, yellow and leathery. IFace masks jkre dreadful in their effects on not only ‘| the skin, but the general health, particé’fflilarly those made of rubber. They | make the face pervspire. and the im- | purities which exude from the pores | ¢ling to the rubber for a while, and are ‘ | reabsorbed. Steaming the face robg | the skin of its natural oil, causes wrinkles to appear and makes one sonsi-\ J tive to neuralgia. Under the delusive | | pretense of facial massage many hun-[ dreds of women have had the delicate tissues of their faces pinched and slapped and rubbed and twisted without any regard whatever for the natural condition of the skin. Disappointment generally follows the use of all the | things I have mentioned, and also ofl the methods employed, All of these | remedies are enough to ruin a woman's * face.” The Slangv Girl. | The use of slang is the easiest us! all habits to acquire, yet so hard to | break. It vitiates our speech, and u's-i pecially marks a woman as ordinary, | though shie may be of eminently refined | birth and education. To converse well, | even elegantly. is only a matter of cul- | tivation. Study the selection of your | words, and after a while it will be sec | ond nature to use only such as are es- | sentially above criticism. All cannot be ' fluent conversationalists, but all can | speak correctly, using only such lan- | i guage as expresses what you wish to | ‘ say, but not in the slangy fashion that | too many young people think chie and | convincing. It may sound smart and | { cute in some ears to be tiuently familiar ! with all the up-to-date slang pln';!svs.g but the best people, the refined and cul- | tivated members of society, will never | be able to discover auy beauty in this | knowledge, { Many girls use slang as they puff | cigarettes, thinking to make an impres ' sion upon men by their worldly says, the little “fast” touch in its dnn;.:«-rnusl proximity to the extreme edge of the | border line of decornm possessing that If strange fascination that has !wln::m-di to forbidden fruit since the days of Eve. | The men whose good opinion is \\'nr:hj having, however, do not cultivate (hwl society of slangy girls. Its use may be | only a habit, but slang will impress the | shearer with a feeling that the nature | of the woman employing it is in !nuvhf with its brusquerie and its unvnn\'c-u«% tional idioms. 6' Sleep and Healthy Beauty, ‘ f One should never allow one’s self lnl be too busy or tired to neglect the | rightiy toilet. Omne should not .simpl,\'! rop one's clothes and tumble into bed, i blse neither one's self nor the clothes will look atfractive in the nmrnin;:.l Jave plenty of hot water and a dash | i cologne and give your face a tlml'—i ugh lzving, The result will be as rereshing as an hour's sleep. Brush the ! Jair for twenty minutes, it will lw‘i Jossier and thicker for the trouble, | nd your nerves will be soothed by the | 'ocess, Then, after the exercise, robe mrself in a warm gown and drink glass of hot milk, weak cocoa or even Ot wat eating a4 wale or bi ol st if you like When the small sup @y i< tinished you will be ready to go | ¥ p without insomnia cure, and in ' tl®c morning you will waken r(-frosbed‘ afid thoroughly in good humor with! vurself and your world. ‘ : scarcity of Domestic Help. i An IBnglishwoman who evidently has bEen over here studying us more or | les thinks she has found a message of ‘5 eflightenment to bring back to her sis- | td; housekeepers at home. In a long | 9iter printed in one of the London | Wloklies she urges Englishwomen to | aFcist in the solution of the domestic | S@ ) vice probiem by being more inde- | P®dent of servants, “Let each girl” | Sie begs, “be taught on leaving school | A% least how to care for her own bed- | I'om.” Then, realizing how radical a her views, she hastens to exclaim S cxplain. “Why not?” she says. ur American sisters—except those of | t y extreme fashionable caste which . s arisen of late years do this as a ! | BB tter of course (as they also do many B ngs about the house which we never am of touching), and that they ol ¢ whit behind usg in the niceties o!"; e anyone who has had the privilege ) on spending any time in the bosom of 8 | Y 8 ical American family will strenu- | O¥¥:ly deny.” The paper goes on Aat| 9 n.stidvr:mlw length to point out Ih~s VBiue of fewer servants and of becom- 1 i one’s own housemaid in a limited wree, aud explains in detall the aeth-
¥ - B od necessary. All of which is interegy. ing for two reasons, one as showing that the service question is as serious across the water as here, and another that in the opinion of at least one observer the hope of betterment lies in ability and practice of doing one's own work, To Make a Corset Cover, A quickly made corset cover ::as only three seams, one on each shoulder and one across the waist line. To cut a pattern, take your waist pattern and a newspaper. On the straight edge lay the middle of the back, next to this lay the piece that comes next, lapping ‘the pieces where they allow for seams: then lap onto this the next under-arm piece, next the front with the seam that joins onto this, nnd fold over each dart, This will leave your shoulder | Seams (uite away apart. Measure @ . ” CORSET COVER PATTERN. across the bottom and be sure you have it large enough around the waist, then cut your papers, allowing an inch in front. 'The pattern will be straight in the back and bias in front, Lay the pattern so the middle of the back will be on a fold of the cloth, baste the shoulder seams, and try on over your corset and draw the front together so it will fit. Being bias, it will tit perfectly smooth, Mark where you need to trim the front edge, then see if you have the bottom just at the bottom of lth(- waist, allowing the width of a seam. If you have had to change any, put it back on your paper and trim it, then you will have a perfect fitting pat- | tern, For the lower part, cut a circular | piece that will fit smoothly around your [ hips, six inches deep.—Exchange. [ An Ideal Hneband. The ideal husband is thus described ! by a bright woman who keeps her eyes ' open and has a reprehensive habit (ber l friends sayv) of “taking notes:” “A temperate, moral, intelligent, cenl ¢ g | ergetie, affectionate, truthful, forgiv- | ing, Christian man, who chooses a wife | for her mind and heart rather than her i face, and waits until he finds the right I 01, ! “Who neither scolds nor laughs at | his wife, and never contradicts her in | public. | “Who loves home and children, ard | has certain means for making an honi est and comfortable living. i “Who is economical, but not stingy; ! gives his wife a personal allowance to | do with as she chooses and, unless ; wealthy, keeps his life insured in :er | favor. “Who understands that women have nerves, enjoys pretty things, and are happier for being ‘petted’ once in a ll while ~and sometimes oftener.” | This observing woman is herself an ‘ energetic, happy, lovable old maid, ] with unbounded faiih in the possibilities of man nature under proper condi- ‘ tions, and says scme wives of her aci quaintance have husbands who can be | easily developed into paragons’ if jugs g “managed’” properly. ! Spring Walking Suits, o A 3 - - - GR QA AZaNTR R } _."\(-\ >} 3 ("’ % ‘\\\{\ oy ‘\\\ ‘ ’fd;h‘ % ‘V{:‘ N 3 & R | \\S% \\ \,‘ \‘.\\' AN AN\ L AR ANNSRTENN | AN L ANNRNE S z \§L\\ \‘ \ {\:\Q\ SN " | A > ; How to Curl Feathers, ‘ Feathers may easily be curled, if} only a little time and care be devoted ‘ to them. A simple process is as fol- | lows: Have a large kettle with steam !pum'ing out of the spout. Hold the ! feathers in this steam for a few rio- | ments, and then with a blunt krife i (preferably a metal paper cutter) curl | each separate plume, and when com- | plete, hold the feather in iront of the | fire to keep the stiffness in. Profession- | al dressers do little else, but, of course, 3 they are more expert than a mere amaj teur: ; Chinese Gowns, ; I'he kinomo is the name of a hand- | some new lounging robe, which may be made from a discarded opera cloak. Its long, loose folds crossed and con- | fined by a broad sash at the walist, its | queer, square-shaped sleeves, the ease { with which it may be manufactured, all appeal to comfort loving women. If being made new, it should be of yel- | JTow satin, with trimmings of embroid- | ered peacock feathers. E Large families are the rule rather | than the exception among the Dutch, | but a certain Susanna Joubert, of Klipj, fontein, in the Free State, has broken | all records in that line. She has had ! four husbands, and her Jiving descend- | ants number 327.
e————— f ¥ne P\’n.sa of th 7 >3 4 . . S ;‘Ep KE% If there is a blowhole anywhere in that Supreme Court decision the railway attorneys can be depended upon to find it.— Kansas City Journal. If the arbitation treaty ever emerges from the American Senate, it bids fair to look more like a product of war than of peace.—Montreal Star, There are some Congressmen who do not secm so large when they reach Waghington s they do before they leave home. —Baltimore American. The Crown Prince of Corea has got himself kidnaped. It is to be hoped this is no indication that he intends to go on the stage.—New York Press, It is said that the people of the United States smoke 115,000 tons of tobacco every vear. Nobody hasg attempted to weigh the cigarettes. —(leveland lLeader. Too many bills are introduced into legislative bodies, but there is always the consoling reflection that most of the bills introduced will never be passed.—Chicago ' Record. ']} Canton doesn’'t exhibit good business | judgment in offering $5,000 bonus for a boiler factory. It could get a season of Wagnerian opera for less.—Chicago TimesHerald., Now the bacillugs which causes baldness has been located by a French savant, Dr. Sabourand, and vaccination for loss of hair may be next in order.—Springfield Republican, If reciprocity is good for anything it ought to be able to score a hit by giving Jamaica bromo-seltzer and watermelons in return for rum and ginger.—Chicago Times-Herald. The story of Senator Quay and the Florida panther ought to warn all such animals of the danger attending transactions with Pennsylvania politicians,—New York Journal. When President Krueger, of the South African republic, doesn’t like an editorial in hiz morning paper, he suppresses the journal’s publication. There are officials in the United States who must envy Krueger his power.—Scranton Tribune. In the Glad Spring Time, How the wheelmen responded to the sun’'s invitation!—Cleveland Plain-Dealer. | The first baseball game of the season seems to have got in ahead of the pioneer robin.—Boston Herald. Windy March bas finished its task of blowing up the earth’'s pneumatic tires for the bicyeling season.—Chicago Record. IFishing is very good in Florida, plenty of fish in the river, blackberries are getting ripe and nobody need starve.—Florida Times-Union. Great weather this! But the skies are not half as blue as the poets who can't find a market for their spring songs,—Atlanta Constitution. Will somebody please organize a society for the prevention of spring poets? Or else persuade the Humane Society to include this branch within its scope?—Chicago Journal, No matter what the almanac says, the small boy will not admit that spring has arrived until he can carry home in a tin can a live snake of the vintage of 1897.— Cincinnati Tribune, Spring is evidently on the way. The temperature mounted to S 0 degrees in Kansas one day last week, and was at 82 degrees in several parts of Texas. The warm wave is said to be strolling eastward.—Boston Globe, Foreign Affairse. Iking George must be holding a lemon in front of the performers of that European concert.—Cincinnati Tribune. On sentimental grounds the Cretan seems 1o deserve about as much sympathy and respect as any other semi-savage.— New York Advertiser. England would enjoy a larger measure of confidence if her impact on Greece didn’t come simultaneously with her impact with us.—Chicago Dispatch. Another attempt to federate Austyalasia is being made. Unless the old jealousies and differences have disappeared, the attempt is doomed to failure.—Buffalo Express, The new treaty of alliance between the Transvaal Republic and the Orange IFree State shows that Oom Paul is still keeping his weather eye open.—Providence Journal. Emperor William says his grandfather was “modest and unpretentious.” But, then, probably Warlike Willie thinks he is modest and unpretentious himself — New York Press, i Ralisbury suffering from an attack of ,i.;w H’:Hi:‘h/:l. but if he doesn’'t have an attack of Russia and €Germany one of these days he will be getting off lucky.— Cincinnati Fribune. When a British Premier goes to Paris to confer with the French Minister of Foreign Affairs it is indicaiive of a desire to irget their instruments in tune and up to concert pit¢h.—lndianapolis Journal. Office and Office-Seekers. The office-seeker’s motto: The man who stands back is lost.—St. Louis Star. The first Indianian to refuse an office has come to the frogt. It is thought he wanted a better one.—St. Louis Chronicle. Maj. McKinley is confronted by the old l'l'“]'];'“' of how to put a million pegs, more or less, into 2 few thousand holes.— Chicago Dispatch. There never were and there never wilil be enough offices to go around until every citizen has an option on a public place.— Indianapolis Journal. One of the Chicago applicants for office has his indorsements bound in sealskin. Yot it is not believed he will land on velvet.—Washington Post. The offices are being filled gradually, and, what is more important, they are most of them going to men of high character and of excellent ability.—Dßoston Journal. Some politicians do not seem to care who makes the songs of their country, or its laws, either, so long as they get their share in the disbursement of the patronage.—Chicago Record. It would be interesting to note how many office-seekers would suddenly be called home from Washington if we should get #to difficulty with any sos. eign nation.—Commercial Advertiser.