The Syracuse Journal, Volume 3, Number 28, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 10 November 1910 — Page 6

Syracuse Journal SYRACUSE, - - IND BLAMED dogs for sickness Authorities of the Middle Ages Had Little Sympathy for the Household Pets. Disease and the dog were believed to walk together in the sixteenth century. The terrier then was as much a suspect as the rat today. In plague times he had only to venture into the street to court death. Here Is an order Issued by the authorities at Winchester, in 1583, which is typical of the rest: “That if any house within this city shall happen to be Infected ■with the plague, that then every person to keep within his or her house every his or her dog, and not to suffer them to go at large. And if any dog be then found at large, it shall be law ful for the Beadle or any other person to kill the same dog, and that any owner of such dog going at large shall lose six shillings.” Among the records of King’s Lynn, under May, 1585, appeared this: “For as much as it hath pleased Almighty God to begin to send us his visitation with sickness amongst us, and that dogs and cats are thought very unfit to be suffered in this time. Therefore Mr. Malor, aidermen, and common council have ordered and decreed that every inhabitant within the same town shall forthwith take all their dogs and yappes and hang them or kill them and carry them to some out-place and bury them for breeding of a great annoyance. And likewise for cats, if there be any sickness. ... It is ordered that the cats shall forthwith be killed in al! such places.” An exception was made ‘‘in favor of any ‘dogge or accompte. Such a one was allowed to be kept it “kenelled or tied’ up or led in a lease.”* Worse and Worse. “Tipping gets worse and worse on the other side,” said Senator Depew In a recent Interview. “A New Mexican told me that at the Savoy in London he wefit to have a wash before luncheon, but saw a pla card on a mirror, saying: “‘Please tip the basin after using. “This made the man so angry he rushed from the washroom muttering: “ ‘No, I’ll go dirty first.’ “The New Mexican added that, aftsi he got his lunch, he tipped the waiter the waiter’s two helpers, the man whc gave him his hat and gloves, and tie man who whistled for a taxi. The ve hide rolled out Into the Strand, and our friend leaned back with a sigh oi relief, when he was aware of a boy in buttons running along beside the window. " ‘Well, what do you want?’ said tile New Mexican savagely. “‘A few coppers, sir—accordin’ t« the usual custom, sir,’ the boy panted “‘Why, what did you do?’ snarled the New Mexican. “‘lf you please, sir,’ said the boy ‘I saw you get into the cab.’ ” Seems to Have Good Case. Miss Josefa Schneider, a Turkisi; subject, resident in Constantinople has brought a suit for damages against the state which throws a vivid light on conditions in Turkey undei Abdul Hamid 11. According to the Paris Eclair one of Abdul’s daughters fell seriously ill In the days when he ’was still padisha and the court physicians recommended an operation for appendicitis. Abdul refused to giv« his consent until the operation had been performed on someone else, tc prove that it was not dangerous tc life. Miss Schneider, who had recent ly spent some time in a Constantino pie, was handy, so she was forcibly taken from her house and deprived of her appendix. Abdul Hamid was con vlnced, his daughter was cured and now Miss Schneider’s suit is part of his successor’s troubles. Portuguese Vajnpire. An atrocious case of a human vampire Is reported from Galizana, In Portugal. A young child, son of the local blacksmith, was missing for several days, and was found dead In a field near the town. Examination revealed that the corpse was bloodless. Inquiries led to the apprehension of a merchant, Dom Salvarrey, who was last seen with the child.' 'this man confessed that he had killed the child in _ order to drink his blood. He declared he suffered from pthisisj and had been told by a gypsy that he could only be cured in this manner. He was assured that several cures had thus been made. It is surmised that this terrible outrage was due to the murderer being mentally deranged, but It is not the first case recorded of such an atrocity. A Difficult Position. “Why don’t you be your own landlord?” asked the agent. “I couldn’t manage it. Imagine having nobody but yourself to blame because the house is out of repair.” A Nightmare. “I dreamed that I had a million dollars last night” “Were you happy?" “No. I thought the bank where I got it had short-changed me and I was obliged to count it” Wonderful Faith. Randall—Bliss evidently has great faith in the lifting power of his airship. Ellicott— -Why? Randall —He’s after the contract for raising the Maine.

Strange Romance r s ™™™ or an Illinois Boy VHHH Who Became i j Fiji King rFW EmO,.

BNE of the strangest stories that ever came out of the tropic seas is that of Edward Thompson, the only American who ever became a king in his own right Nothing more romantic exists in poetry or legend than the tale of the lad from southern Illinois, who founded a kingdom In the far-off isle of Naikeva. For a quarter of a century he ruled In his savage realm, forgetful of the world that had forgotten him. While he sat in judgment over the affairs of his tribesmen or led his warriors to battle the map of the world was being changed. Only the faintest echoes from civilization ever reached the island kingdom of Naikeva, where ruled i*■ | i

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Waila Nambuka, “the Child of the Sun." To the •Imple-minded Islanders he was always looked ipon as a supernatural being. His recent death has plunged his people in gloom. The mourning •obes of his subjects have been brought out of :he napa huts and worn in the dead king’s honor. His two little sons, the princelings of Naikeva, will reign in his stead and King Waila sleeps at die crest of a gentle slope overlooking a coral •eef, where the league-long breakers thunder lour after hour. His bones lie far from those of Scotch-American forbears, who settled in southern Illinois nearly a century ago. A disappointment in love started him out upon the long road of adventure when he was a youth of nineteen or twenty years. One of these unfortunates who run to extremes in matters of sentiment, he fell in love with one of the pretty!village girls of old Albion. Things move slowly In this, one of the oldest and proudest towns of Illinois. In the natural course of events it wag to be expected that the two would marry in the {fullness of time. There was a home to be built and preparations made for a start in life. Something of the methodical slowness of their English ancestors clung then, and still clings, to the everyday life of the citizens of Albion. The town has changed but little In the years that have flown since Thompson left under cover of nightfall. The etune houses line the spacious public square. The same homesteads that sheltered the pioneers now shelter their descendants of the third and fourth generations. Red brick homes, low-eaved and with wide doorsteps, still line the older streets of the little southern Illinois town. Outwardly the town has changed but little, and In spirit not at all, since the days when young Thompson waited for his girlish sweetheart at the half-lighted corner of the court house square. The Albion of the Flowers, the Thompsons, the Hulmes, the Blrkbecks, of “Park House” and “Wanborough Place” still remains. Had the white monarch of the savage Isle of Naikeva come back to the place of his birth In the last year of his life he would have found “Little Britain,” as the region is known, much as he left it It Is the same little city of schools and churches, of quiet homes and quieter streets that it was when he was a barefoot lad stealing away to fish and loaf along Bonpas creek. The future ruler of Naikeva spent many an Idle hour with hook and line along the shallows of old Banpas, If the traditions of the folk of “Little Britain” are true. He was fond of making long trips to the shores of the Wabash with his chums, but he seemed to lack the ambition dear to every boyish heart, the hope of getting out and seeing the big, round world. There was nothing to set him apart from his fellows as one who would tsjiste of strange adventures before his death in the antipodes. The prosy, uneventful life of a farmer, a storekeeper or at the most a humdrum professional man in a country town was all to 'which he could look forward. I There came an interruption, an awakening to his love’s young dream that drove him outi of his home town between sundown and sunrise one Bummer’s night. This spur to his pride, thU wound to his self-love sent him adventuring among the spicy isles of the south seas and made him a king in his own right before he was twentyfive. He was of that shy, retiring, loyal type of the Scotch who love deeply when they love at all. He had become engaged to the village beauty. The day had been set gor the ceremony and the unmarried youth of the town looked upon him as one already lost to the fun and frolics of the ■lngle state. About this time a new business house was •pesed In the little town and a youthful eastern inasAger was sent on by the owners to look after

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its affairs. He came armed with letters of introduction that opened the most exclusive homes of the aristocratic English families to him. Among the many young girls that he met was the village belle, the affianced of the young Scotch-American. It was another variation of that old triangle, the woman and two men. From the first the friends of young Thompson could see that his cause was hopeless. His affianced wife and the young more and more of their time together. Lrctfe rumors began to find their way about the village. The gossips, ever ready in a small town, were soon busy. Thompson, moody and hurt by her systematic neglect, was the last to hear and the last to countenance the whispered talk that was going the round of the village loafing places. There was a great hue and cry along the quiet oid streets one summer morning. Thompson’s bride to be had disappeared. Her mother had gone to her room to awaken her and found her gone. She had gone with the young manager of Albion’s latest business house, and from that day to this neither of them have been heard from Young Thompson changed In a day from a cheerful, happy lad to a grim-faced man. He became moody and silent. He neglected his work and never went near the home to which he had expected to lead his bride. Less than a month after the flight of the elopers there was more excitement in Albion. It was reported that Ed- / ward Thompson had disappeared. The strain and, the shame of living in a town where every man/ woman and child knew the story of his jlltlnrf had proven too much for his sensitive, high-strung . nature. J While life flowed on in the same uneven current In the village of his nativity he was wandering here and there among the emerald islands, the lagoons and the coral reefs of the seas that behold the Cross. I All the Islands that He off the familiar track of the steamers knew him first and last Ln the three or four years that he spent with the traders and copra buyers. The Philippines, the Lacirones, the Solomons and a dozen other Island groups of the southern Pacific were visited by him In the epic years of his Odyssey. Finally he and his trading companions touched at the Island of Naikeva In the Fijis. One of the eternal civil wars that are always disrupting the peace oi the little Island kingdoms was brewing In Naikeva when the tramp schooner dropped anchor in/ide the reef of coral that formed the harbor breakwater. A new claimant had risen for the tljrone and he and his followers were dera&ndlmfe the scepter and the head of the old king. 7 Thompson had left Illinois, had put the states behind him to escape the constant reminder of his lost love that he saw In everjl woman. The wandering life of three or four yeairs had cleansed his heart of but little bitterness kgainst womankind. He had put the old life ttehlnd him and dreamed only of adventure and never of bright eyes and loving lips. It was a tnixsd crew of Kanakas, Malaysians and half-cas|es aboard the little trading schooner. They cared but little for the kings and chieftains of the islands, but it was a part of their policy to be polite to the native rulers. An audience was arranged with the native sovereign and a part of the Sjhlp’s company attended laden with calicoes,'miners and brass rods as gifts. It was in the royal but Thompson first sow the Princess Lakanlta. She stood at the side of her father’s throne when the white men entered the palm hut for their talk with the old king. ■ Some Indefinite attraction seemed to draw the white adventurer and the brown-skinned princess to each other. They met many times while the schooner was taking on its load of native -products. There was more than a little Spanish blood in the veins of the old king’s daughter. Her mother was a half-caste Spanish woman and much of the languorous beauty of the maids of old Castile was the heritage of this barbaric princess of the remote Isle of Naikeva. In the half twilight of the cocoanut groves he heard her

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story of danger and distress. The rival claimant of the throne had demanded her hand in marriage, and had promised to spare the life of her father If she would consent to become his queen. It was but a matter of weeks, possibly of days, till his force would be strong enough to back his arrogant demands. In the end the white man knew that the Island beauty had fallen in love with him. She pleaded with him to stay and help her escape from the clutches of the oppressor. It is possible that Thompson would have lingered for a time if his companions had not been eager to get away from the island before the civil war began. They were traders, and as such they did pot care to take sides in the dispute. It might hurt their business chances in case they another trip to the island. The anchor was? lifted, the brown sails spread and the ugly littfe schooner slipped out of the harbor of Naikeva while Thompson stood on her deck and waved a farewell to the imperious little island beauty. ’ At the very last she had reminded him of his promise to return to Naikeva. It was weeks after the departure of the ship I from Naikeva that Thompson was dramatically ■ reminded of his promise to the Princess Lakanlta. The sun had just set one night and Thompson was lying on deck smoking and watching the swift tropic dark come up out of the east. A native canoe scraped against the schooner’s side and a native was heard calling for “the white man with the blue eyes.” He was brought aboard and proved to be the faithful messenger of the distressed princess. He had followed the schooner across leagues of unknown seas in his open canoe searching for the only man upon whom she could rely for aid. The end was at hand in Naikeva; and Lakanlta and her father were about to be put to death. Help must come quickly, and It was more than possible that it was now too late. That night the stanch itttle trading vessel pointed her prow toward Naikeva. In the final melee along the sands the old king and his rival were both slain and Thompson was stunned by a blow from a war club in the hands of a savage fighting man. When he revived he and his men began a hunt of extermination for all the revolters. They were wiped out and their villages fired before the party returned to the king’s village, where the schooner lay anchored. Then the white hero was stricken by one of the malignant Island fevers, brouglz on by his injury on the beach. It was many days before he was able to recognize his free-trading companions. The princess had been his devoted nurse through his dangerous attack of tropical fever. Now that he was about to leave the Island forever she grew sorrowful and listless. She drooped like a dying flower as the ship’s preparations for sailing were being made. All his promises to return brdught on fits of passionate weeping on the part of the little princess. She wanted him to stay. “I fought that fever when it tried to take you away from me, and It was all for nothing,”, was her constant reply, “and now that you are well the white men are taking you away where Lakanlta can never hope to see you again.” In the end her pleadings won. After all there was nothing in the outer world to which he cared to go back. The good news spread quickly over the little kingdom. “The Child of the Sun” was to wed their princess and rule them in the wise ways of the white man. After twenty-five years of Idyllic happiness Thompson, the love-lorn youth who fled from the covert jeers of the town of his birth, died a king In far-off Naikeva. The princess still lives and his two sons will reign In his place. The silence of twenty-five years has been broken by the news of his passing away surrounded to the last by his dusky retalneruk

GEORGE TUPPER] LEARNS TO SING By JANE OSBORN (Copyrighted, 1910, by Auoeiated Literary Press.) “Os course, I don’t means society, spelled with a big 9.” George Tupper’s voice was raised to an argumentative tone. “Well, I don’t either/’ drawled his companion, whose year in New York had not native tones. I “What I mean is that you cannot get into any sort orowd in the j city without some sort of social introduction. I know I’ve found it so, and when you have been here as many months as I have, you’ll agree with me. It’s not a bit like anything In ! the south, or In the west, either. Os course, in a business way they'll take you up fast enough, but when It comes to introducing you to their wives or sisters, it’s another matter.” j “Pshaw!” broke in his western companion. ‘lt’s just the way you go about It Why, I’ll wager—” ‘Oh, of course,” interrupted Edwin Carey, the southerner, *you can get Into some crowds, but I mean—” “What you mean,” George Tupper went on, “is that I couldn’t get acquainted with a nice, thoroughbred girl in New York without a formal Introduction.” “That’s just what I mean, George,” agreed the other, with the calmness of conviction. ‘Well, see here,” said George eagerly, ‘l’ll bet you $25 that 1 can. Not that I care anything about It, of course, but just to prove it, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. There is a mighty nice looking young woman I have in mind who lives in one of the brownstone houses across the sUaet I’m r'WSOJH Igjgllp IJgJIW George Went on With His Singing Undaunted. sure I could get acquainted with her If I went about it tactfully. Come on, Carey,” he suggested. ‘Let’s go about it together.” Edwin Carey put out a protesting hhnd. “No,” he said. ‘“l’ve had enough of that sort of thing.” Then in the pause that followed George vaguely recalled the story his companion had told him of the fickleness of a “pretty little southern flirt,” to whom he had once been engaged. It had all happened four years before, but Edwin still felt the sting. “How long is it going to take you?” queried the southerner at length. “Oh, to get acquainted with the girl and win the $25? Two weeks—sooner if you wish,” answered the other with assurance. Then, stepping into the hall of the little bachelor apartment where the two men made their home, he callef back: “I’ll make my first effort now.” The fact was that George Tupper was only too glad to have an excuse to set about the very quest ne had just suggested. He had seen the young woman in question on several occasions and had gone so far as to plan to pass on her side of the street at the time when she was in the habit of leaving her house. “She’s such a thoroughbred,” he thought to himself; “it does cne good to see her.” She had away of leaving home shortly after dinner time, which fact bad aroused George’s interest and curiosity not a httle. With the present wager in view: he felt justified, as be had not before, in following her at a distance and seeing for himself where she went. Luck was with him this evening, and before he had waited many minutes the young woman stepped down from the high brownstone porch and passed along in her usual direction. He followed her on tbfe opposite side of the street for three blocks, and then he was somewhat relieved to see her turn into the door of the parish house adjoining a dignified old church. “Perhaps she sings in the choir,” he thought A few minutes after she had entered the door he, too, sought admittance. “Is this practise night?” he asked a small boy who was frisking about la the lower hall of the building. “Bure,” replied the boy. “Who’d you want to see?” “Are you a choir boy?" asked.

George, with another stroke of dm tectlve genius. “Sure,” said the boy ncncnalantly. “Do you have women in the choir?*' asked George, with an attempt at indifference. “Yes,” exclaimed tie boy in surprise. “Didn’t you ever hear thi? choir? They sing the solos and we do the rest. You see they can read thef notes better than we can. and they aren’t so likely to get scared and ' chokey on Sundays—” “And the cnoirmaster,” George Interrupted without disguising his eagerness. “Where’s he?” "Oh, he’s trying out the new fel- ! lows upstairs. Practise doesn’t begin > for a few minutes yet.” | For the next five minutes George, j spurred on by the thought of the girl-, | took the only course that presented ■ Itself of making her acquaintance. "l‘m very anxious to get some pracj Hse in choir drill,” George explained a few minutes later when he had been | admitted into the choirmaster’s pres-, I ence. “Yes,” replied the other, with dlsj couraging indifference. “If you have ! only a fair voice I really can’t take i the time to hear you. I have more * ! applications now than I know what I to do with.” ' George thought with momentary I regret of the many chances he had ! thrown away to practise with his college glee clubs. A lusty and ready | voice he had always had when It came to less formal singing. “Well, it isn’t what you’d call a trained voice,” he admitted, “but if you’ll let me practise with the choir and help me out a little I’ll be glad to make It worth your while.” It was two weeks later and George Tupper sat In the little apartment; sitting room laboriously singing to himself from a score which he held before him. “Say, old man,” broke in Edwin Carey from his chair, "If you don’t give up that choir of yours, you’ll have to find some one else to live with. Yoq’re away from home three or four evenings a week and the rest of the time you drive me out. Honest, old man, I can’t stand it.” George went on with his singing undaunted. - “How’s the girl across the street coming on?” asked Edwin teasingly. “Your time limit is almost up.” George paused briefly to reply. “Oh, she’s all right, I guess. She’s one of your languid, southern beauties. But how on earth Is a man going to sing decently and think about half a dozen things besides.” Here he paused and sang a few more notes. “You’ve no idea,” he went on, “how absorbing it is. It just gets hold of you and makes you forget everything else. Even the little fellows ’tend to business. You Ought to hear us sing that new anthem, Edwin. It’s rouser!” “But what about the persisted Edwin. ’ f ■ ~ “Oh, pshaw - ’ exclaimed-the singer, out of patience. “That Miss Penrose—” “Miss Penrose," echoed the other. “She’s Clara Penrose.” He was standing over his companion, looking at him with an unwonted show of eagerness in his eyes. “I knew she had come north to study music, and when you spoke about her being a. languid sort of a girl I had a half suspicion. She is a beauty, isn’t she?" he asked, feelingly, and then not waiting for q reply, “Which house is it, George—tha one right opposite?” Two hours later George Tupper was still singing to bimself from a score before him. He had spent the evening alone after Edwin’s sudden departure to the house across the street, and was beginning to feel a little anxiety as to the probable course which events had taken. “She’s just the sort of a girl to make a man like Edwin go through Are and water,” he thought to himself, and then, as the door of the apartment opened and Edwin appeared, his anxiety departed. “She’s the same Clara Penrose,” Edwin exclaimed, holding his hand out to his friend, “only a hundred tines sweeter and kinder. Why, da you know she’s been waiting these last three years for me to come back to her? And I have been a brute tq stay away!" “Is it —it all on again?” asked George with hesitancy. The look In Edwin’s eyes answered “Yes.” “Here,” he said, holding out a handful of new bills, “you’re a winner, even if you didn’t get the girl.” Friction Unavoidable. Oscar Kammerstein, in the smoke room of the Lusitania, praised America by contrast with Europe. “They have to admit in the old world,” said the patriotic impressarlo, “that we’ve got them beaten on every count. Talk to them about the matter and they can only quibble. “ ‘Oh, yes,’ said an English banker to me the other day, ‘you’ve got a great country, the greatest country in the world —there’s no denying that.’ “Then he gave a nasty laugh. “ ‘But look at your fires,’ he said. ‘Your terrible fires are a disgrace to mankind.’ “ ‘Oh, our i|res,’ said I, ‘are due to the friction caused by our rapid growth.’ ” • Vision Impaired. “I think this motion-picture habit Is affecting my sight.” “Too bad. What seems to be the trouble?” “Every time I watqji one of the things I seem to nee a film beforo my •yee.”