Semi-weekly Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 22 June 1897 — Page 2

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'S SftUH9N:T UW

A DECIDELOOVEL TEMPERANCE IDEA IN A CALIFORNIA TOW^.^-

DRASTIC PROVrSIOHS OF fHE LAW

licenses Cost^rpm "#1,000 to #2,000 for Saloons Wbere, Men Can Do Noth--i Drink.

The Raints liquor-tax law of New York state has^u/a^ed national attention, but for drastic provisions it is outdone by the ordinances enacted by municipalities tn lower California. It may seem strange that in the land of the vineyard a'nd vdne press prohibition: ideas, and drastic high license laws should flourish, but the fact Is accounted* fpr^Jjy the immigration of New Knglanders. and farmers from Kansas, Xowa. ^jTtd the Dakotas into the rural regions of south!?ft California in the last decade. The Caii'fornian of song and story, who iJfOtv'S' -grapes on the hillsides and has hi'sj^he'press and vats alongside his Toe«-eirtbo'wer'ed cottage in the valley, is fast being driyen out of business In.southern California by the newcomers with their radical prohibition sentiments. ,In«the.San.Gabriel and Santa Ana valleys,, there is less than one-twen-tieth the, axeiiljjjanted with wine grapes that there was ten. years ago. The wine prodifct.,1jf"the* San Gabriel Valley in 1887 vas more'fliaii 1430,000. Last year it was less than f40,0OO. The Iowans and the Kansarfl ft&V£ supplanted the vineyards with Orange And lemon groves, and, with the New Englanders, they have waged a relentless warfare against the liquor traffic,- Perhaps nowhere In the country Is the-agitation for prohibition more vigorously, continued than in southern California, and.eastern tourists who visit this region expecting'" to see characters such as Bret Harte and Gertrude Atherton have described as typical Californians are always disappointed. The change wrought in southern California in the last ten years has made this part of the state-entirely" different from the pictur-esque-region described by story writers and novelists Los Angeles, the metropolis at southern California, was famous up and down the Pacific coast twenty year^ ago for its big and open gambling games"'."and its many saloons and wineries. .To-day it is just fourteen times larger, and is noted for its

FREEDOM FROM SALOONS and for its many churches. Anaheim, in Orange county, used to make and send to liiar'K'et more than 500,000 gallons of wine and brandy every year. It does not produce one-tenth of that quantity now. A decade ago many a church deacon or trustee was wine or brandy maker. Now public sentiment has grown so antagonistic to the liquor business in all its forms that wine maker or any one who has any dealings with a liquor business rann^Ot'retain his church membership. In all the towns in southern California, except Los Angeles and San Diego, there Is rarely any issue in a municipal election between Democrats and Jtepublicans or Populists. The sole'issue is whether the community shall have one or two saloons paying a license of $1,000 or $2,000 a year, or shall have prohibition of the liquor traffic. The crowning piece of legislation regarding the sale of intoxicants is that Under which two saloons are operated in Pomona. It is the combined work of, a dozen leading temperance reformers, ahd It is famous throughout the southwest for its. drastic provisions and its unique Ideas. Its purpose is to provide places for men who believe they must drink intoxicants, and at the same time to discourage visits there by moderate drinkers,: or men who merely wish to have a social time with their friends. Pomona is a city of 6,000 people. For two years it was a strict prohibition community. The only way that intoxicants could be obtained was through a prescription from a regularly licensed physician, at a drug store. The biennial election of city officers took place last April and the canvas preceding it was red hot for five weeks. Mass meetings were held by the half dozen, all-day prayer meetings took place in the churches, the local news-1 papers contained little else than arguments for prohibition or high license, thousands of circulars setting forth the advantage of no saloons Or of saloons under police regulations were scattered every week about town, and all the local orators made speeches until they were honrse. The high license candidates ware electfed. Immediately the campaign pledges for high liccnse for two, saloons were fulfilled by the enactment of the ordinance that has now become known fr&nv-Sa» Diego to Vancouver as the Pomona saloon law. It has been tested in the.^slate.. .courts and declared constitutional. It provides that there shall be but twe places in Pomona where malt ani""Spirituous liquors may be sold or given-:away without a physician's presCHii'tibn. The keeper of each of these places must pay a license of $500 semiHanually in advance, and give approved bonds to the amount of $8,000 t,hat he will obey the provisions of the law under which he runs his barroom or saloon. The BaloQn keeper may hire one/ bartender, but. .only with the consent of the. city eouncilmcn, who shall inquire into the character and responsibility of the bartendbr. The saloon or bar-room must be on a principal thoroughfare in the city. It must be on the flrst or ground floor, end Its front must be one-half of plain glass and flush with the sidewalk. No frosted, painted, or stained glass may be lised. in the windows and doors, and there tn,ust be no screens whatever. The view from the street to the bar must always be fre§ and unobstructed, so that a person on the street may at any time see Who are in the saloon. There may be no rear or side doors to the saloon no cellar or basement: no adjunct, wing, side room or alcove. The saloon or barroom must be 'a single rectangular or square apartment. There must be no allurements there other than drink itself. To that end there may be but one seat, bench, or ch^ir in the saloon. That must be behind ,the bar, and for the sole us^e of the salodn keeper or his bartender. Barrels dt casks must be separated from the room by a railing so that they may not furnish Beats or leaning conveniences for patrons of "the saloon. No pictures, advertisements, or show cards may bo on the •Widls,. and nothing to eat may be served, piven xiway, or sold there—not even crackers or pretzels. All games are strictly prohibited in the saloons, and newspapers, periodicals, or books are tabooed along with any table or shelf upon •w^ich they might be placed. In a word, tiie Pomona barroom or saloon is simply ft ^rtrniing-place, surrounded by all the publicity possible. The .. —WOMEN AND CHILDREN Whir "may 'be deprived by the saloon of money that should come to them for their support may protp^t= themselves by this new lav*. A section in the ordinance provider th?vt. any fqmale oVer 17 years of age»w ho has reason tot beliei-ft that her husband, son. father, Or brother is spendinjv' lilS' money at a saloon irt Pomona, maj^ toakc' ail affidavit t6 that effect before

cth£

city tlerk, who sMH immediately

f^sii^"order'tb-each the two *0 or- giie the man jortipfainXxl Oi Sanyo miiib or spirituous liquorsunder pain of revolution of the license-and forfeiture of &:.000 of the !onds. This order is to be taken by the -ity marshal to the saioon, and posted a conspicuous place at the rear of the bar so "that every patron of the saloon m-iv Ktiow at any tlfne who have been hVttVdlcted from drinking at that bar. *hoiid anv mother or wife wish to know "whether the proscribed man is drinking In the saloon, all she has to do is to look at the window. There being no icreens. back or side door, and no basement or annex, this point ma*- be readoV -settled. The saloon keeper us liable to forfelt all his bonds and license if any tatior i« given to any minor. Indian, lunatic idiot, drunkard, or female in the paloo'n

or

within one hundred feet of it.

The saloon may be open six days in the .J- a to 11 P- m. There must

». t*n u»

1

ness conducted within. A great many people who read this will wonder ,why anybodv should want a license under such provisions but there were seventeen men in Los Angeles and Pomona who not only askea for one of the two licenses, but also worked their hardest to get one. Two applicants fOr license were chosen in the last week of May, and this week the saloons operating under the unique law were opened with apparent success. Redlands, a beautiful town that has grown to a population of 4,500 iri ten years, has also been experimenting with lQcal high license and prohibition laws. Its population is largely composed of Massachusetts and New York people who have located in southern California wl^h ample means to build pretty homes ?uj4 live among their roses and orange groves for the rest of their lives. Duririg the greater part of the last decade Redlands was a strict prohibition community. Violations of the law against selling intoxicants of any kind there were punished for each offense by fines of $150 and $200, anu also by imprisonment of fifty and sixty days. A local temperance society there provided

FUNDS FOR DETECTIVES

and spies to hunt out offenders of the prohibition law and get evidence against them. Two years ago the citizens of Redlands who favor high license carried the city election. The town then had one saloon licensed at $2,000 a year, payable semi-annually in advance, and surrounded by strict police restrictions. Twelve men sought the license eagerly under the terms, and the man who got it has been very well satisfied. Pasadena is the stiffest prohibition town in southern California, and temperance' and social reformers point to it as an illustration of how a community.,|r,eei.from whiskey and saloons may prosper. The Iowans put the stamp of prohibitory liquor laws on the place. That was in 1882, when Pasadena had less than 500 population. The Iowa people came fresh from their state battle with saloons, breweries, and distilleries to Passadena. There was a saloon fti the town at the time, and the saloon keeper agreed to. sell opt for $2,000 and leave town forever. The sum was quickly subscribed, the saloon was bought, and that night there was a bonfire of barrels, casks, and barroom furniture. Pasadena has grown to a population of more than 12,000 and has never had a saloon since. .So rooted and determined are the people against having a saloon that ex-Mayor T. P. Lukens of Pasadena recently tola the writer that even with all the prohibitionists and total abstainers in the city debarred from voting the anti-saloon element would be over two to one at the polls. After a two years' trial of license one saloon in Riverside at $2,500 a year, that town went back to prohibition of the liquor traffic one year ago. It looks as if the town will always remain a prohibition community. The man who wants a drink of beer or whiskey there must induce a regularly licensed physician in that town to write him a prescription on a druggist. Prescriptions covering a certain period and prescriptions to be filed and refiled at will do not go there. One must

HAVE A PRESCRIPTION

for each potion of liquor, and the prescription must be pasted in a scrap book, where any one may read it. The person who sells intoxicants in Riverside without a proper prescription is liable to a fine of $250 and imprisonment for thirty days in the city jail. Some one used to be convicted there for violating the law about three times a year, but since it has been seen how thoroughly violations of the law are punished in Riverside they have become more infrequent. The little citv of Orange, in Orange county, goes one step further in its law prohibiting the sale of malt or spirituous liquors. The ordinance there makes it a misdemeanor, punishable by a fine of $200 or ninety days in the city jail, to sell or give away any intoxicants, except in the case of a physician or licensed druggist. Not only that, but any one in Orange caught having about his premises tir person a cask, barrel, bar, counter, or bob. ties from which intoxicants are sold or given away is liable to a fine of $100 or thirty days in jail. Any one in Orange who pays for any intoxicants there, except from a physician or licensed druggist, may be fined $100 or imprisoned for thirty days. The property owner in Orange, who rents or causes to be used any of his property for saloon purposes, may be fined $500, and the line stands as a lien upon the property. The supreme court of California has decided that this ordinance is legal.

ASTONISHED THE SAVAGE,

Geronimo Conld Not Understand the Mys tery of the Telegraph. "At one interview with Geronimo," says General Miles, "I tried to explain to him the uselessness of contending against the white race. I told him that we had the use of steam and the telegraph and the heliostat, both superior to any of their methods of communication. I then had the heliostat set up and said to Geronimo: "We can watch your movements and send messages over tops of these mountains in a siflall part of one day over a distance which it would toke a man on a swift pony twenty days to ti-avcl.' "He was both curious and incredulous. 'How is that?' he asked. "I was the operator to open communication with the nearest station, fifteen miles away. He turned his instrument upon that point and flashed a signal of attention. As quick as though the sunlight was flashed back again. Then Geronimo confessed that he had observed these flashes on the mountain, and had believed them the manifestations of spirits. 'From here to that point,' said I, 'Is a distance of nearly a day's march. From that point we caf communicate all over this country. I can send a message to Fort Bowie, sixty-five miles away, or to Fort Apache, nearly three hundred miles from here, and get an answer before the sun goes down in the west.' 'If you talk with Fort Bowie,' he said at once, 'do this. I sent my brother there as a .guarantee of my good faith. Now tell me if my brother is all right.'

I gave the order to the operator. 'Now,' said I to Geronimo, 'you will have to wait, for that inquiry, with the reply, will have to be repeated six times.' "In a short time the answer came back that Geronimo's brother was there, was well, and waiting for him to come. "This-struck the savage with awe. He said something to one of his warriors, whereupon the latter quietly turned on his heel, mounted his pony and rode rapidly back in the direction of the mountains whence Geronimo had come. I asked the interpreter standing near by what Geronimo had said. 'He told him to go and tell Natchez,' was* the answer, 'that there was a power here that he could not understand. He told him to come in, and come quick.' "The heliostat had performed its last and best work. In a, few hours .Natchez came riding .down from the mountains with his band of warriors and their families. and so surrendered a tribe that h^s never been matched* since the tTays of Robin Hood."

i. 'T^-' 'p

r'j

1 1

ELECTRIC MATCHES PROMISED.

Probable End of the Era of Iaicifers.Not .» Far Distant., vjnbrV^ The electric match is the next' important invention promised. Before very long the phosphorus-tipped wooden splints now in use will be replaced by a handy little tool that may b6 carried in the pocket or hung up conveniently for striking a light when wanted. Already there is on the market a gas lighter which affords more than a suggestion of the electric match of the future, a twist of the handle generating sufficient electricity to accomplish the purpose. Also there are several styles of cigar lighters which depend for their supply of eiectrioity upon storage batteries. For some years past the gas jets in theatres and public buildings have been lighted by the electric :-arlc Indeed, most persons have seen the curious experiment of lighting the gas with the linger after a shufllc across the iMfflfcl-' io ccngtAtA tius electricity needed. ..'V

dr^oioc It

The Injured citfzpn had called at the police office to feport that thieves bad gone through his basement the night before and stolen a quantity of lead pipe. "I wouldift 'liav# minded It" sO much," he said, "only it ~was the second time within a week."*: "When were you robbed before?" asked the inspector. "Last Tuesday,'by the plumber who brought In the bill for putting that lead pipe in."

The EXPRESS hat. all the news in every issua.

TEKRE HAUTE EXPRESS, TUESDAY MOBBING. JUNE 22, 1897.

FORGOTTEN Amino DBH01T8.

A Rural Philoiopher on OwdM BUWtt*. Trouting and Old-Time Fishes. "It's unfortunate," said the^ryral philosopher as he leaned on his* .-.spade and mopped his forehead with h|p tjandana, "that trout fishing always comCa around at its best just at the time Vhen vour garden has to be looked after, ,so if you do your duty by the trout you're likely to run short on early garden ss&S, and if you sacrifice yourself" by stlfeklhg close to your spade' and yoflr hoe VoU miss & heap of fun and have fO sit arburid Bights at the grocery and hear the other f$ltofers tell about the big ones they caught aiyi the bigger one that sot away, muttering to yourself all the Whiltf tthat 4her are liars and you know it. "It's a wonder isn't 4t ^kowtUiejre^ulouS a fellow is about the»o^c fellow's fishing exploits when he hasn't got ftny of his own to tell about? "But there's no getting away from it. Nature hasn't regulated trouting time and garden, making just as she might. That's what she hasn't!

Have I been out after any yet? Well, yes. I was over on Chipmunk Run t'other day, and splurged around considerable. Did I catch anything? Yes. I caught a ride home on Joe Bigglns's mule wagon. That wasn't bad luck, either, for I was more than tired. I had the right kind of bait, though, or I don't think I'd have caught that much, for Joe is queer. The bait was all right. There was nearly a pint in the flask. Joe bit at the most of it. "But there doesn't seem to be any trout any more. Seems as if they'd gone Off into their holes and pulled the holes in after 'em. It does, for a fact!' And that has sort o' set me to thinking* I've been thinking for some time, now, that a fellow would show a heap more sense,, and get a wagon load more fun, if he'd just quit sloshing along the brooks and pretending that trout are the only fish that swim, although he may not catch half a dozen the whole day long, and wake up and remember the fishes that used to be good enough for him to toss a hook in after, and that, too, when trout were as plentiful as polliwogs. "For instance, now, what's come to be the matter with the catfish? He isn't a daytime fish, that's so. Not particularly. Unless the day is dark with clouds or moist with rain. So your up-to-date sportsman might say 'Pooh ,po,oh! I don't want to fish in the rain, or gbT Out at night to lure my prey!' Yet(|

smind

you, he

doesn't mind tumbling heels over head into a trout stream, noi*going miles in the night time to jack fair ax-deer. Yes, the catfish. His mouth ia jUst as commodious and his horns arevjust as sharp as they were forty yeargn4go, when we thought him worth bobbl^f for, ain't they? And he can swear, ftt you just as hard when you haul him iij and chuck him into the boat, can't he? And he can grunt and grumble at you Just as amusing'as he ever did, can't lief Then what's the matter with him? Nothing. Not a thing. r'f "And there's the eel—od¥ circumlocutory old friend .the eel! What hais come over the eel that we don't seem to see as much fun in him as we did wiwn we were boys? As far as I can learn, he $an tie himself in a double bowknot around your leg just as deftly as his great-great-grand-parents could, and hasn't forgotten his old trick of sneaking off under your very eyes and walking off with your bait, hook, line ,and all ,if you're not watching, out. What's the matter with the eel? Of course, he's a night prpwler, too .like the catfish, and he was wont to give great sport on the bob in the days that I remember. There are catfish and eels a plenty, yet. And they've got all the oldday sport in -them. Don't you forget it. Then what's the matter with 'em? And then the sunfish! There's the sunfish! Shaped like a pumpkin seed, and more sass in him for his size than any other fish that ever grabbed a worm. I can't think, of any reason why he shouldn't make a frying pan snie)i just' as good as he did forty years a,go. \And his big cousin, the yellow perch! Where can one find a bolder Or handsomer fish than he? Then I mind me the silver-siJed chub— the chub hasn't left the rifts, and the waters where the shade falls at noontime, has he? The chub Was a trifle prickly about the nose, that's so, and his jaw was inclined to be leathery, but just toss him a white grub or a grasshopper on a hook, and whoo-o-o-o! wouldn't he give you a fight? He'd give you a fight that'd maKe you think that maybe you were fooled, after all, and had a three-pound pickerel braced against you .instead of a three-quarter-pound ^chub! And then there's the Say! r:And the rural philosopher dropped his spade. "Do you know that with evepy,, spadeful of this new, lusty earth on%..turns up he gets, through the subtle cjjer^istry of the soil, new lease of health Jife? If you do, I Avish you'd tell the, fltet man you meet that he can come right here and secure that lease, and get a dollar a day for doing it? I'm going flailing!"

ENOUGH CHALf^£OB AL.L TIME

Great Block That Was Once as Large as the Continent of Europe. -••ij

The small piece of chalk which is in constant use in the. schoolroom, the lec-ture-room, the bltla?S-room, and the workshop has a str&iige history, the unraveling of whichi*thrdugh all its complexities is' one of. the most difficult problems with which^ the science of the present day is callM .upon to deal. This piece is in reality a chip of an immense block of chalk that once filled an area the size of the continent of Europe, and of which even yet several gigantic fragments remain, each hundreds of square miles in extent. IMiese patches are scattered over the region lying between Ireland on the west and China on the east, and extending in the other direction from Sweden in the north to Portugal in the south. In the British Isles the chalk ia found in greatest perfection and continuity in the east and southeast o£ England. A sheet of chalk more than 1,000 feet in thickness underlies all that portion of England which is situated to the southeast of a line crossing the island diagonally from the North sea at Flamboreugh Head to the coast on the English channel in Dorset. This enormous sheet of chalk is tilted up slightly on the west, and its depressed eastern portions that dip toward the waters of the North sea are usually burled from sight by means of overlying sands and clays. Where the edges of the chalk floor come upon the sea the cliff scenery is strikingly grand and beautiful. Anyone who has once seen -the magnificent rocks of Flamborough and Beechy Head, the jagged stacks of the Needles or the dizzy mass of Shakespeare's cliff, near Dover, can understand why "the white cliffs of Albion" has grown into a stock phrase. This massive sheet of chalk appears agaiji in France, in many other parts of Europe as far east as the Crimea, and even in Central Asia, beyond the Sea of Aral. How far it stretched westward into what is now the AtlaStie««iay never be known, but chalk cliffsr ,eln»t least 300 feet in thickness are sqen Antrim, fn Ireland and less conspicyou-^'formations are found in Scotland, in Argyle and' Aberdeen. P"here can be little question that all these niry. isolated pa1:ehes were once connected .'in a confinUou^ sheet, which must, therefore, *hav6scS a superficial area afcout 3,000 miles long bsr nearly 1,000 broad, an extent larger,^han that of the present continent of Europe.

J.\V 5

WILL WED AM INDIAN GIRL

END OF A ROMANCE WHICH. WAS BEGUN TEN YEARS AGO IN DAKOTA.

FOREIGNER SAVES LIFE OF SIOOI

Falls in LOT* Witb His Daughter Whom He Educates and Will Marry in Bismarck, S. D., Jane 34.

June 2! the're wilt be solemnized in Bis^ marbRT' N. '*!?. tfie wedding of a Sioux Indian m&1d©n %ildf ai-loreigner of wealth, ahd a octal prestige., ^The bride will beu Picture Eyes, U)veT),daughter of John Moose,/an old warrior who has scalped maliy wliite irikn and participated iri many a tEibal battle with contending aboriginie nations. The prospective groom is Thomas Dulaine Cronan, an Irishman. The marriage ceremony will be performed first by a priest of the Catholic church, after which the Indians will indulge in a genuine, old-fashioned wedding feast, and the affair promises to be one of the most unique and interesting of the kind ever witnessed in the west. This romantic wedding will be the culmination of a courtship extending over a period of seven years which has been attended by peculiar incidents and enlivened by extraordinary contrasts and escapades of an interesting nature. Picture Eyes at the age of 18 was a well formed, prettyfaced girl, but could not speak a singjle word of anything but the Sioux language and had never known the ways and customs of the white man. She lived then In a tepee with her ugly-looking parents. Now shg is 25 years of age, well educated, refined to a remarkable degree and possessing more than ordinary taste in the matter of clothing herself. Her father, John Moose, now lives on the Standing Rock reservation, but the bride to be is a member of the Colonel Frank Duncan family, having been adopted by that gentleman several years ago upon the consent of the parents. It was about ten years ago that Mr. Cronan flrst came to this. country. He was then about 25 years of age and came out west through

THE INSTRUMENTALITY

of Morcton Frewen, the English bimetallist, who was at that time interested-with the Marquis De Mores in the cattle raising and exporting business. Cronan was sent to America as a sort of special agent to look after the interests of the English capitalists, and his duties brought him to the cattle raising regions of Montana and Wyoming once each year. On his third annual trip he had occasion to stop off at Medora where the company had some smali interest, and it was there that he met the little Indian gin under peculiar circumstances. Upon the day of his arrival at the little town a Sioux Indian had beeii thrown into jail for attempting to set fire to a: ranchman's barn, and there was a mob of white men gathered about the jail doOr. evidently bent upon stringing the culprit up to the nearest telegraph pole. The plucky constable, who was a small man, stood upon the doorsteps threatening to shoot the first man that made a move forward, but it was certain that he could not stand the Infuriated gang off for very long, and already a detachment of the "would-be lynchers had commenced battering thelone window of the building. In the meantime an Indian girl had appeared upon the scene and was darting about bringing her hands in agony and making frantic efforts to have some one understand the piteous entreaties she was screaming in the Indian tongue. Cronan was an interested bystander, and noticing the frantic actions of the girl endeavored to learn by inquiry in what manner she might be interested in the proposed lynching. A herder standing by informed Cronan that the man in the jail was the girl's father and

THAT SHE WANTED

the mob to spare his life for her sake. Cronanyonoved by the helplessness of the young girl, decided to intercede for the life of the would-be incendiary, though he realized that It was a dangerous move and might cost him his life. Elbowing through the desperate mob, he sprang to the side of the plucky constable and shouted out a plea for the Indian's liberty to the mob which had been momentarily pacified by the. stranger's action. Cronan persevered in reasoning to the mob whenever the din subsided long enough for him to be heard, and in due time his efforts proved successful. The men dispersed, leaving the constable in charge of the jail and his dusky prisoner. A few days later John Moose was tried for the crime charged against him by the cowboy and was acquitted, having proved an alibi. Cronan had saved the Indian's life, for which little act of courtesy both the father and' daughter were deeply grateful. Cupid appeared upon the scene and pulled his bowstring with effect. Cronan went back to England, but returned in six months to Medora, only to find the John Moose family had gone to Bismarck. Hfe went to the latter place on his return trip from Wyoming and found the Moose family snugly quartered in a tepee on the bank of the Great Muddy. THe little Indian girl received him with open arms, but she could not understand his protestations of love, so that courting was an uphill job with Mr. Cronan. He employed an interpreter and the next day after his arrival at Bismarck they went to the girl's home for an interview on the subject of love. Cronan informed the dusky maiden of his great desire to become, her husband, and asked if his lovq was returned. She replied with blushing facc and pasisonate eyes that she loved him dearly «ind would like to become his squaw, but that she had already

BEEN PROMISED

to a young buck named Four Toe, who had paid the father a certain quantity of tobacco for her hand. She had been sold, she said, and must be redeemed from Four Toe before negotiations could proceed any further. Cronan and his interpreter repaired straightway to the tepee of the lucky Four Toe and proceeded at once to negotiate for the purchase of his prospective bride. It was an uphill job at first, but after several trips had been made to the lodge of Four Toe and after numerous propositions had been made and rejected the brawny redskin finally relinquished all his right, title and interest in and to the beautiful Sioux maiden for the consideration of $25 in hand paid and ten pounds of cabbage leaf tobacco to be delivered on the wedding day. Then the old warrior's consent and that of the ancient squaw was obtained to the proposed marriage and Cronan returned to England after making arrangements with Colonel Frank Duncan for the adoption of the girl and for her thorough education. Picture Eyes attended the Indian school at Carlisle, Pa., for two years, then she was placed in a seminary at $t. Paul, where her education was finished. Two years ago Mr. cronan again crossed the Atlantic solely for the purpose of visiting his Indian sweetheart. He found fn the

parlors

or the Dohan residence not

the shy, uhtutored Iridlsfn maiden that he parted with' M' the tepee of John Moose Several ye&rs before.'but instead a tastily 'dressed, modest.appearing young lady of Refinement,»whO was then able to tell 4lim in pare English that sl^e still loved Tliim and was $viljing ia become his wife.

The wedding day was set for June 24, 1897, and Crorvan returned to London, but a correspondence has since been carried on between the two lovers, and the last letter announced that the prospective groom would sail on June 5 for this country to claim his bride and to introduce her to the society of the great metropolis. ...AJ"

He Was Obeyed.

''Back! back!" cried the lad, in a bold, fearless tone of voice. He wasn't in the least bit frightened.

It was only an old horse he was talking

&rfisils

t, Agreed. A

.Jack—The warm weather affects some

Mack—Yes they think it's cooler in the country than in the citjr-

LOCUST8 OF ARISTOCRATIC DKSCEKT

Seventeen-Year Variety Can Trace Their Genealogy Far Back in the Aces. According to information which purports to come from the Washington headquarters, th© seventeen-year locuats, due this year, are the descendants of an old and well-known family, the first recorded appearance of which was in 1785. Since then they have returned at regular intervals never a year late nor a year ahead of time. The .brood, which will begin to come out as soon as warm weather comes to stay, occupies a territory In Pennsylvania limited to Fayette and Washington countie4. 'with a sprinkling in adjoining 'districts.f:4n Ohio it includes the counties of 6fclmdm, Coshocton. Crawford, Erie, .Fairfftld, Geauga, Guernsey, Huron, .JackSonr'Lake Licking, Muskingum, Perry, Pickaway and Washington. In West

Virginia the counties of Barbour, Calhoun, Kanawha, Grant, Hardy, Harrison, Lewis, Marion, Monongalia, Ohio. Preston, Roane and Tucker. The records of the agricultural department contain Interesting accounts of attempts made by many farmers to avert the locust plague. Various chemicals have been spread upon the suspected ground and trees, but without avail. As soon &s the fore#warning mud towers were observed by one farmer he turned his hogs into the orchard, beneath whoso trees they were forming. The hogs proceeded to devour the grubs as fast as they came out of the ground. This experiment proved successful, although the farmer lost one hog, which had overglutted himself. Whether it is a distinction to be proud of or not, the fact remains that the cicada is strictly an American pest. It was known to the Indians long before Columbus discovered this continent. The most serious depredations performed by it are the hacking and gnawing of dead trees which is always done by the female, for the purpose of depositing her eggs therein. The insects of both sexes gnaw the roots of trees while they are in the underground stage. Twigs hacked by the female usually die within a week. Large forest trees and old orchards can generally endure this depredation, which to them seldom amounts to more than a general trimming, but young fruit trees often die after being thus hacked up by the swarms of vandals. The curious habit of the cicada, living for so many years in the bowels of the earth, arid apparently for no "other purpose than to make preparation to spend about six weeks in the outer world and then die, is its most notable characteristic. The female busies herself while on earth with planting little specks of eggs in the tender bark of trees and shrubs. This she does to music made by the male,, which for monotony and exasperating harshness beats a Chinese band. Having been for six weeks nourished by the sap of the branch or twig in which it fs deposited, each egg hatches out and soon the branch in question is covered with infinitesimal insects, which run about in great activity. Occasionally a sudden breeze will blow a number of these baby cicada into the air, through which they oat to the ground, as gently

though supported by tiny parachutes. Having reached the ferth theyi proceed at on^e t6 burrow- deep: into dt, uritil they meethwitlv-the fsappy roots, of the same family tree. Here they remain-for^thir-teen ior seventeen years, according to their? brood, living upon jLhe sap in the rootSf in q^estlqn,. without' sol much as a glimpse of-dayHght or a. sniff of the upper atmosphere. DUrlng this underground "grub" stage their bodies aVe of a dusky brown and are without wings.

as

THE TABLES TURNED,

A Conductor Who Worked Juat For the Exercise of Doing So. Samuel Cawley, an engineer on the Lake Shore railroad, tells a good story about George Clough, formerly a passenger conductor on the old Concord road. Clough had been in th© employ of the company for about thirty-five years, and had amassed a large fortune, when a new superintendent named Chamberlain Was placed in charge of the men. The new superintendent had heard about Clough's fortune and made a quiet investigation on his own account. As a result of his inquiries he ordered the conductor to call at his office. After shaking hands, the superintendent said: "You have been in the employ of this company for a long time, Mr. Clough?" "Yes, about thirty-five years," replied the conductor. "You have a very finejiome," said the superintendent. "Yes, it's a nice place," assented the conductor. "How much did it cost you?'- asked the superintendent.

The reply came slowly and deliberately, "$50,000." The conductor began to catch the meaning of the questions and his eyps flashed lire. The superintendent paid no attention to the conductor's eyes, but continued to question him. "You have a nice team of horses, have you not?" said he. "I saw you out driving a few days ago." "Yes, it's a nice team." said Clough. "The animals cost me $17,000. They are beauties, and I take no man's dust. You will find me in the first rank.". "You also own some railroad stock, do you not?" "Yes," replied Clough. "I am thankful to be able to say that I have a little interest in the road." "I am sorry, Mr. Cloilgh," said the superintendent, "but we will try to get along without your services." "You will be sorry, Mr. Chamberlain," said Clough, "for if you let me go you may be out of a job yourself in a few months."

The superintendent thought that his conductor was bluffing and told him SO. "It's just exercise for me to work three hours a day and make the run between this place and Nashua," said Clough. "I have all the money that I want, and all that I need is exercise. I would like to retain my position."

The superintendent was inexorable and told the conductor to go. The following June the new directors were electcd and the superintendent lost his situation, The conductor had a controlling interest Jn the road.

But any way to Broadwayv

The season frizzled In a weeK, As seasons oft have done: His agony he could not speak, ..j

For vanished was the sun. The landlord held his grip secure 1 y. (For landlords have no soul), And o'er the ties, with sombre brow,.

The actor took a stroll. And as he walked, each heart-beat said Above that rugged roadway, "A long way. a short way. +1

But any JJroadwajr !"T He walked and walked, by d#y, byri)i^ht, And Home seemed far off He cared not. for the farmet'N slightV

The tramp's remorseless scoff.' He longed for boots, that seven Jepgues' Could travel in a wink: But over him, on weary nights.

The stars would gaily blink, At last he struck the good old «tO,W#And sang while on the roadwa?j "A long way, a short wa\.

'kifiiiMwutjiiiiii ItHiwliiif i.

A10UT SniLIIIC

If the horse is tired

it

HOME, SWEET HOME.

He. starting out with smiles Of gl^. The season had begun: "Tho" clouds have been—now," murmured he. "1 catch a glimpse of sun: With gripsack packed he took the road,

And one night stands were -his: Then letters came to all his

frlenasy«

About the splendid "biz And vet a whisper on the wind Came to him o'er the roadway| "A long way. a short way,

1

But here I am on Broadway!

^-ruy

Those Didn't Connt.

Reporter—How many years Have you been in public life? Statesman—Twenty-four. $

Reporter—But

.your biographer says

twenty-eight. Statesman—He.includes four years when I was vice-president.

tT«efnl Art. h, »s

.-5

Teachcr—What is a synonym? Bright Boy—It's a word you can use in place of another one when .vpu don't know how to spell the other M®. ,:

liMWo-

ft BOUSE

SOME SARCASTIC ADVICE WHICH IT WILt NOT BE WELL TO FOLLOW.

..'

REAXJIRECTIONS CA8EFDLLI

After Beading Them Through Fonder Over EaoTi One Soperately and Thou Do Just the Opposite.

Eriter ibe stable with an appearance of great hurry and flurry rattle open th* slidlri£ cltibr£, and, if there arc any swinging'doors Or shutters, throw them back —eaeh "Wrth a loud "bang!" This will wakelhc horso up. and, if he happens ttf be a ncrVous animal, will increase th« chance of .his running away before th« day is wer about 50 per cent.

When y.oji are ready to enter the stall, order th& horse, in a loud, rough voice* to "sUmd over"—at the same time squeez in pokp your thumb into his riba.

Back' him out with great haste and violence, and with such a short turn that he' cariirot fall to tread on his own feet .arid back his hips against the side of tht stall* drop the halter and go In search of the harncsa if the horse atlrs. grab him and yell "Wow)"—-the correct stable pronunciation of "Whoa."

Adjust the back part of the harness gingerly, so as to give the horse the impression that you are afraid of him then draw* u^ the saddle girth with all the quickness and vigor you are capable of. If the librSe snaps at you for this, throw up your arms and jump at his head or strike'him in the face.

If she declines to lower his head for the adjustment of the collar, put your arms around his neck and swing downward with your whole weight—perhaps you can weigh it down. l^Orce the bit into his mouth with your thumb, and, standing on tiptoe .struggle with him until you have succeeded In pulling' his ears and forelock into placc, and put your finger into his eye.

If the horse continues manageable, lead* him toward the carriage, with the reins trailing on the ground behind him.

It thero is a door you can leave unfastened* so 'that it will slap against him as he passes the doorway, do so, and, if lie has occasion ,to step up or down a step, be sure you check him up. so that he wjll perform the feat with a series of plunge^, and stumbles.

Have the shafts propped up, and as you* lead the horse under them kick the prop out, thus letting them drop on his back. This will accelerate his motions and teach him to keep an eye on the carriage, which he will henceforth regard as a monster.

Run the vehicle down onto him arid punch. the ends of the shafts into his thighs, or, if you cannot manage to do that, run one of them between his fore legs. Swear, jerk thO horse, pull the shafts into place and adjust the lugs. Keep yelling aft the top of your-volce, "Wow!" "Back!" "Get over!" etc., to keep the horare awake and show that you are master of the situation.

Twist the traces carefully, and leave either one holdback, or the shaft girth unfastened. If the driver does not get killed before he has a chance to discover this arrangement, he can get out and alter it.

If you are going to drive, take up the reins arid cluck to the horse as soon aa you put your foot on the carriage step. If he does not start off at once at a'gallop, jerk him and strike him with a whip but, if he is a good horse and you have followed the foregoing directions carefully, he will probably be only too ready to start. In that case jerk him and yell "Wow!" "Back!"—always say "back" when you say "whoa"—tho horse will remember the combination and back somepody off a precipice some day instead of stopping on the brink.

Drive him at the top of his speed from start to finish, first on one side of the road, then on the other, jerking and whipping him continually, and yelling from time to time. This will make the horse respect you. excite the admiration of the lower classes, and endear you to the populace generally.

If you have occasion to stop on the street, either do not tie the horse at all or tie him to something he can take with him if he wapts to go away.

If tlie weather is chilly It will toughen him to leave him uncovered but, should^ you choose to blanket, throw the blanket over him so loosely that the flrst breeze will turn it over his head. A cold wind blowing

011

the chest of a heated horse

will refresh him greatly .and if he stand# irt- the gutter with melted snow and ieo wSter running around his heels, so much the .better.

When you return to thr stable, let the hprse cover the last few rods at the top oft his speed, and pull him up with a loud, triumphant "Wow!" .^jow, don't miss a glorious opportunity to t^y the disposition of the animal. Un* fasten all the attaching straps but one holdback and start the horse out of tho shafts. When you see the result, yell like a fiend. The strap that remains fastened will first make the shafts punch the horse in the stomach. Then pull all the harness off his back if he does not kick it lsT a sign that he is a good horac—there Is no mustang in him.

If it is winter and the horso is much heated, either leave him in the stauia unblanketed or put the blanket on at ortce and leave it on wet all night. A draft of cold air from the opening abov« the manger to the door behind, blowing the whole length of his body, will heip to season him. If it is summer, slop Ins joints with cold water and give him a couple of swallows to drink—a "couple means any number from two to a liun dred.

and

exhausted, do

not forget to feed him at once, lie might starve to death if you left him for an hour. A heavy feed of corn will please him greatly, and a generous allowance of corn meal will make him look nl.,s and fat—probably before morning. A 1 eral dose of ginger, pepper, or "condition powders" will scare away any c».l spirits that may be hovering about ami make everything all right.

If the horse is not dead by the next morning, you can fix him up at your leisure and thereafter conscientiously r£com« mend him as "tough," but should he ba so unreasonable as to die during tii« night, you can console yourself with th« reflection that it was not your fault—th« animal was constitutionally weak.

SUBDUED THE REFRACTORY HORSE.

General Grant as a Cadet Displayed Quail' ties Conspicuons

111

Latter Days.

The following story was told by Colonel Greene, a classmate of General U. S, Grant at West Point: "One day, when the members of Grant class were called out for drill on horseback, there were not horses enough by one to go around. Grant was one of thd shortest men in his cla*s, consequently was on the extreme left of the company, and he was the one for Whom fhei-e was no hprse. 'tM ofilfeer" ordered a hOrsa brought, which w'a's ddu^. 'The animal was a Vicious toute? which had proved sflf Unmanageable tifat he had been -discarded *Thfe officer Ire charge did not ?otic« the horse^intil just as ywng Grantjault' edcinto the saddle, wh*n. -horror-8t,qcken, h^ordered him to dismount. The Aorsa did his part to assist his rider to. Obey the order, but Grant drQve his spurs inta the sides of the infuriated, plunging, kicking bolting brute, and guided him inta an open field, where he gave such an ex-» hibitlon of amateur horsemanship as no member of that class had ever before wit. nessed. Before the contest was ended the horse was thoroughly subdued and from that time became, a useful, obedieni animal, but he was always ridden by Grant."

Sympathetic.

Amy (a brunette)-Ah! I should so lik* to he a blonde! Mamie" (a blondej-And were you neverl

I.