w
" THE TRUMPETER.
The Fourteenth Regiment of Caval-
ry was about to start on an Indian
campaign. The baggage wagons were
loaded; the horses were saddled and
bridled; the soldiers, in their stout-
est uniforms and gray field hats, with
cartridge-belts about their waists,
armed with pistols, carbines and sa-
bres, stood waiting for the order to
mount.
Colonel Warrick, equipped for field
duty, stood on his proch, pulling on
his gauntlets.
A young soldier with a bugle swung
across his shoulder was at the foot
of the steps. His hair was light
brown; his blue eyes had both a deter—
mined and harum-scarum light in
them; his mouth was firm, his chin
square, and his figure was erect, slim
and supple. When Mrs. Warrick came
out on the porch and said, “Good
morning, J eofirys,” pleasantly, he took
oil? his hat with an unembarrassed
grace and courtesy that one does not
always see in the private soldier.
' “Jeoffrys,” said the colonel, “sound
‘Prepare to mount.’ ”
“Yes, sir,” said Jeoffrys, saluting
and going down the walk to the parade
ground, where he make his bugle cry
out with an almost human voice, full
of a man’s glory in his strength, and
. of anticipation of stirring times to
come.
“You’re not going to take that child
"with you?” said Mrs. Warrick.
“Of course,” said the colonel; “he’s
in. the service and must take his
chances with the rest.”
“But you could have left him be-
hind. You are going to leave two
trumpeters, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but the Baby Trumpeter would
die of chagrin if he were one of them.
He’s so glad that he’s going to see
real service ”that he Wants to dance
and shout. Poor fellow!”
The colonel’s ~voice was kind and
sad. He was thin‘kingpf the little
boy who died twe1vé\years ago.
“Try to take care ,of him. Think
how his mother would feel if he should
be. killed!” said Mrs. W I‘I‘iCk-
“Oh, yes, I’ll keep my .ye 0113115“?
said the colonel. -. “Good- yea/101d la-
dy.” ,'
Their hands theft in a firm clasp or g
Veal affectiom‘and good-fellowship.
"Good-lbye, dear!” said Mrs. War-
ri§k~.n- "God bless you! Come back
“ ’ with your scalp—or even without it—
only come.”
Two months had passed, and it was
now late in the summer. The regi-
ment—what was left of it—was en
camped on the banks of a narrow
stream in the Indian Territory. The
faces that the fireclight flickered on
were stern. In front of the colonel’s
tout the colonel and his staff were sup-
ping together—supping on a small
piece of bacon and a half cup of cof-
fee apiece. When the meal was fin-
ished the colonel told the Baby Trum-
peter to sound the oflicers’ call.
As the officers assembled Jeoffrys
took his stand behind the colonel’l
chair, and every one waited to hear
what the colonel was going to say.
“Gentlemen,” he began, “we. have
barely enough food to last, with the
utmost care, two days longer. The
Seventh Cavalry, that was to have
been sent to help us, and to bring
provisions, is doubtless now on the
march, but owing to our -nexpected
change of course, is match: g in an
exactly opposite direction. Unless we
can reach it we must sta. e, and to
attempt to reach it is sui-ci.. x. for, as
you know, we are surrounded by mom
than ten times our number of well«
armed Indians, and our ammunition is
practicallygone. I want any of you,
who can suggest anything, to do it."
For a few moments silence reigned
Then the Baby Trumpeter stepped up
and saluted.
“Colonel,"he said, “let me go and
.bring the Seventeenth to you.”
The colonel looked at him with a
growing sens-e of surprise on his face.
“Why, Jeoffrys,” he said, “it's a
perfectly wild idea. And even if any
one should be reckless enough to un~
dertake 'such a task, it should be an
old soldier—one who has had experi-
ence with Indians.”
“I have had experience with them
for two months, sir," said Jeoffrys
with a grin.
“Yes, and. you have done well," said
the colonel, and Jeoffrys drew a quick
breath of gratification. “So well,"
the colonel went on, that I don’t want
to throw you away uselessly.”
“But I believe I could make it. 0010-
nel,” said Jeoffrys. “Let me go."
“You don’t realize the danger.”
“Yes, sir, I do, but ‘nothing ven-
ture, nothing win,’ ” and again Jeof-
frys grinned. - y
“Very well, Jeoffrys, you may try
it,” said- the colonel. I don’t know
that it is any pleasanter to be butch
ered in comp-any than alone, and as
butchery is apparently what awaits
us all, you may take the lonely death
if. you choose.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Jeoffrys, a:
if:- a great favor had been conferred
upon him.
In half an hour he was back again
at~ the colonel’s tent ready to start.
“What are your orders, sir?" said
Jeoffrys.
“I have none," said the colonel
Then, as helooked at the eager, hand-
some boy, his face softened. '
“Jeoffrys, how old are you?"
said.
“I enlisted as twenty-one, and that‘s
the only lie I ever told, colonel; but I
had to get in the army! I couldn’t
wait! I’ll be twenty next month, six
.—-but please don’t tell!"
“Never, on my honor!" said the
7 compel. .'
. “You see, sir,"’said Jeoffrys, “my
” mother had persuaded me not to accept
”appointment to West Point when it
he
WEEKLY*bURW4tn+GAznrinW
was offered to me. Her only brother
was in the army, and was killed in an
Indian campaign, and she said she
couldn’t bear to give me up; but I
couldn’t stand it, I had wanted to be
in the army all my life, so I ran away.
I couldn’t go off and leave her with—
out a word, but neither could I tell
her what I was going to do, so I left
a note for her, just saying that I want~
ed to make my own way in the world,
and that if I succeeded, I’d let her
know, and that I’d go back to see her
anyhow in five years."
“Don’t you think that for her sake
you ought to give up this wild gocze
chase?” said the colonel.
“No, sir, for her sake I think I’d bet-
ter go on,” said Jeoffrys.
“She’d be very proud of you if she
knew,” said the colonel.
“0h, colonel, this isn’t anything,
and she’d be proud of me anyhow,”
said Jeoffrys with a smile, “you know
how mothers are, sir. Good-bye, sir."
“Good-bye,” said the colonel, hold-
ing out his hand.
And Jeoflrys rode out silently into
the moonless night.
He pushed on steadily, through des-
erts, through the narrow belts of wood
that edged the water-courses, across
the almost stagnant streams. When
dawn began to break he dismounted
and led his horse into a tangle of
brush, on the bank of a little creek.
He loosened the girt'ns, watered the
horse, and selecting a small, partially
open spot in the jungle, settled down
to spend the day. He drowsed along
until nearly noon, when suddenly,
something—not a noise, he was sure
there was none, but a sense of ap-
proaching danger—brought him to his
feet, and he saw through the leaves
six Indians coming straight toward
him. They were about five hundred
yards away. He whispered “down” to
his horse, and owing to the perfect
training of our cavalry horses, down
the creature went. Jeoffrys crouched
beside him, a pistol in each hand. The
brush was so thick near the ground
that he could not sea/hut. he could“
hear the Indians..as"they came’near-
er. ..»- r” W
After what seemed an interminable
length of time, they were close beside
his hiding place. He decided not to
fire until they were upon him, and
they passed by! For a moment every-
thing whirled before his eyes, and then
the temptation to shoot came on him.
It was so strong that he had to lay
down his pistols and clinch his hands
until the nails cut the flesh.
He kept his horse down nearly all
day, and started out again as soon as
it was dark. At dawn he tied his
horse and climbed a tree to take a
survey of the country, and what
should he see, not three miles off, but
the Seventeenth, baggage train and
all!
They had been concealed from him
when he was on the ground by a
slight elevation. He scrambled dovm
the tree, mounted, and started toward
the command, shouting in a. rush of
exuberance of spirits. As he went
down the other side of the elevation
he came face to face with three Indians
who had been hiding under bushes,
watching the troops.
If Jeoffrys had been a boy up to that
minute, it all died in him then. It
did not occur to him to value his life
for personal reasons—all he wanted
was to accomplish what he had start.
ed out to do before he was killed.
When the troops came up—for the
firing attracted them at once—they
found Jeoffrys’ horse dead, two des-
perately wounded Indians lying on
the ground, and Jeoffrys and the third
Indian yelling and hopping around
each other, the Indian trying .to thrust
his knife into Jeoffrys, and Jeoffrys
trying to lungo his sabre into the In-
dia-n. .
The red men were soon disposed of.
Jeoffrys patted his dead horse good-
bye with honest sorrow, mounted one
of the Seventeenth’s led horses, and
the command started toward the camp
under his guidance. The Indians had
been keeping faithful watch, but had
made no attack on their bagged game.
It had been their intention to starve 3
them awhile, and then to fall upon
them, torture and butcher them.
The men in camp were haggard and
worn. They had given up all hope of
rescue, but they were determined to
die hard, and when, three days after
Jeoffrys’ departure, there was a sud-
den uproar among the Indians, the
ready soldiers turned to meet an on-
slaught with sublime recklessness——
and while they were in the thick of it.
they heard the bugles of the Seven-
teenth calling encouragement—prom-
ising quick relief! Surely never had
music sound-ed so sweet before!
There was a sharp fight—and when
the, remaining Indians were galloping
away for their lives, the Fourteenth
and the Seventeenth rushed into each
others arms. The Baby Trumpeter
was cheered until the heavens rang.
The men pulled him from his horse
and hugged him, and the colonel’s eyes
were wet as he clasped the young man,
hand.
“You have saved your regiment. by
risking your own life, my boy,” he
said (was he thinking again of the
little boy Who died?), “and you will
get a medal of honor. I shall recom-
mend you for examination for promo—
tion from the ranks as soon as we get
home.
by brilliant service on the field of bat-
tie.”
J eoffrys, who had' been white before,
now became deadly white.
“Colonel—my mother”——he gasped,
and he fell back into the arms of the
men who were crowding around him.
They had not noticed that the blouse
over his should-er was saturated with
blood.
. “He's wounded!"
voices, and though the
shouted many
--
I
only painful and not at. all dangerous,
the transformation of the boy into a
[ion was complete.
The homeward march was begun.
They were two weeks on the way, and
It was a weary time for Jeoffrys, for
he had to travel in an ambulance, and
was not allowed to move about much
for fear his wound would Open.
Hicks, a private, who rode with him,
and whose arm was broken, told Bar-
ry, a corporal, that he thought J eoffrys
was in love, because he had often seen
him looking at a little picture that was
painted on the inside of the case of
his watch, and though he (Hicks) had
not been able to get a good look at it,
It stood to reason that it must be a
girl. ,
On the corporal’s next visit to the
ambulance :he seat-ed himself beside
the unsuspicious Jeoffrys, and blush-
lng at the thought of his own
meanness, asked what time it was,
keeping his eyes on the watch
when Jeoffrys opened it; and
afterward, when he met Hicks, he told
him that he had seen the picture, and
It '{wvasn’t of a girl, for she had white
hair, and that he thought it was just
a fancy picture called “Mary Antan-
uetty,” for he had once seen one very
much like it painted on a cup when he
(had helped a lieutenant’s family to
' move, and the lieutenant’s wife’s maid
had told him that that was its name.
Couriers had been sent ahead, and
all was in readiness when the Four-
teenth reached ho-me.‘
Colonel Warrick halted the column
in front of his own house, for his wife
was at the gate. While he was speak-
ing to her a white-haired, young-faced
woman came out on the porch and
went down the walk toward them.
“This is Mrs. Gilbert whom I met in
'Wa-shington last winter,” Mrs. War-~
' rick said to the colonel; “the wi-fenof
,Judge Gilbert of'Detroit, you know.
You have won your right to it'
wound was
She and her husband have been tray—-
elling in the West lookin-g’after'tlieir
mines and were, good enough to stop
over. with me for a few days.
Oh, I am so glad to see you again!’
she went on, shaking hands with the
officers, who gathered around her
while the colonel and Mrs. Gilbert ex-
changed greetings. ‘
The ambulance was drawn up beside
o
I
her, and she went to the open end.
where J eoffrys was sitting. He slipped
to his feet as she came toward him.
“Jeoffrys, oh Jeofirys, how can I.
ever thank you enough!“ she exclaim-
ed, and Jeoffrys smiled broadly in his
frank, unaffected, unembarrassed way,
and protested that he had done noth-
ing to be thanked for. ,
Mrs. Warwick was still wringing the
boy’s Land when Mrs. Gilbert came to
the ambulance to look at this gallant
young fellow of whom she had heard
so much.
“By gum, she's the one in Jeoffrys’
watch!” gasped Corporal Barry to
Hicks, his eyes bulging, his whole
frame quivering with the desire to
escape that possesses every man at the
prospect of a scene—but Mrs. Gilbert
only clasped her arms around the
Baby Trumpeter and said in a stifled
voice:
“My son!”—E. Harmon in Illustra-
ted American.
THE SPIDER AS A BAROMETER.
Ills Actions -Aro Indicative of Rain or
Sunshine.
The spider is a. good example of the
living barometer, Close observation
of the work on its web castle will soon
enable one to forecast the weather.
When a. high wind or a heavy rain
threatens, the spider may be seen tak-
Ing in sail with great energy—that is,
shortening the rope filaments that sus-
tain the web structure. If the storm
is to be unusually severe or of long
duration, the ropes are strengthened
as well as shortened, the better to re-
sist the onset of the elements. Not'
until pleasant weather is again close at
hand will the rapes be lengthened as
before. On the contrary, when you
see the spider running out the slender
filaments, it is certain that calm, fine
weather has set in, whose duration
may be measured by their elongation.
Every twenty-four hours the spider
‘makes some alteration in its web to
{ suit the weather. If those changes are
‘m-ade toward evening, just before sun-
gset, a fine- clear night may be safely
.oounted upon. When the spider sits
! quiet and dull in the middle of its
I web, rain is not far off. If it be active
’however, and continues so during a
shower, then it will be of brief dura-
tion, and sunshine will follow.
Lord Bosebery's Wittlcism.
During Lord Rosebery’s term as For-
eign Secretary in Mr. Gladstone's last
administration, he was often annoyed
by an elderly female who paid him
daily visits to get his opinion on mat-
ters of no importance to him whateva
er. Finally, becoming exasperated at
the woman, he gave the doorkeepers
orders not to admit her under any cir-
cumstances. However, not a day
passed that she did not make an effort
to gain a hearing, and on an unusually
late visit happened to meet the sec-
retary just as he was about to enter
his carriage.
“Lord Rosebery,” said she breath-’
lessly, “I must see you on a most im-
portant subject, and at once.”
“Very well, madam,” said the ur-
bane Secretary of State, holding open
the door of the vehicle for her, “I beg
of you to get in.”
Delighted to be invited to drive with
so important a personage, the talka-
tive lady jumped into the carriage,
Rosebery gently closing the door on
her, and before she could expos-tulate,
she heard him saying to the coach-
an,
“Take the lady wherever she Wishes
to go, James, and then home.”
Looking out of the window, the now
irate occupant Saw her late victim
stepping into a cab.-Harper's Round
Table. '
. ~‘-—— ...-..—
\ .
HAN DKERCHIEFS AND COMIS.
Change! Next Sensor: In These Two Acces-
sories of a Woman’s Toilet.
(By Special Arrangement with the NY. Sun.)
A very choice as well as most use-
ful morning dress for out-of-town
wear is of white serge trimmed with
coarse white braids, with very nar-
row gilt braid to bead it. It is worn
with either a scarlet or a white silk
skirt. The front of the shirt should be
fastened with gold studs, and the belt
finished with a gilt buckle. The coat
should be lined and faced with white
silk, edged with the two braids and
fastened with gilt buttons.
Handkerchiefs next“ season will be
gaudier than ever before. They will
be of all the colors of the rainbow,
in solids, stripes, plaids, polka dots
Even'White ones will not
be plain, for, when not heavily em—
broidered, they will be lace trimmed,
not with one edge of lace as heretofore,
but with several lace frills placed one
above the other and on both sides of
the handkerchief, for the fashionable
article has neither right nor wrong
side. Travelling handkerchiefs should
never be lace-trimmed.
——~ I: .
and. “g" res.
, ‘\?£ ' £5. '
. , Q9»- ,5,
. l7 '
\I
II“
mu
, - my?"
uIll“
One of the newest and daintiest
handkerchiefs to be seen is of sheer
white or light colored linen muslin,
with a triple border of finely plaited
footing. The footing of course is al-
ways white. There is no hemstitching,
the first row being whipped on a rolled
edge, while the second row is put on,
one row on either side of the banker-
chief, just above. This handkerchief,
though so simple that it could be easily
made at home, is especially dainty
looking, and adapted to go with the
most elegant toilet.
The new side combs for next sea—
son's wear come in sets of three and
four. The most stylish are hinged to-
gether. In sets of four, one comb goes
above the knot, one below the knot
and one on either side. In sets of
three, as a rule, the middle comb is tc
be used above the knot, and is the least
bit higher and more ornate than the
two side combs. Where the four are
hinged together, the tendency seems t.-
be to have them all alike, differing
only in length and curve.
And jewels, when used, are sunk ll.
the band, not raised above as for the
last few seasons. Amethysts, it i
said, will be the popular stones, and
only a few diamonds are shown, to b.-
worn in very black hair. Amethys.
come in settings of silver and gold, in
polished and French gr": 3! finish and i
I polished and roscffin-islgzl
i
silver git. . ,
ALASKA WAS CHEAP.
|_TS_ WHALEBONE HAS MORE THAN
PAID ITS PURCHASE PAIGE.
All Told the Frozen North Has Rendered
Uncle Sam $103,000,000 Since 1867--
‘V0 Gave Russia. 87,000,600 for the Ter-
ritory in That Year. '
Pretty nearly everybody knows what
Alaska cost us. William H. Seward
signed the treaty of annexation March
30, 1867. It was ratified on the 20th
of June, of that year and the terri-
tory was turned over to a force of
United States soldiers on October 9 at
Sitka. The town was then called New
Archangel. The price paid was $7,-
200,000. The $7,000,000 was for the
land. It is-not often that one hears
what the $200,000 was for. '1 cat sum
Went to Russian trading companies
who had received concessions from
their government. To them it was so
much money picked up in the middle
of the road, since it did not cost them
anything, but they were much out of
pocket, all the same. Because of this
there is grumbling about the Alaskan
sale in Russia to this day. Often some
fellow, whose father was a fur trader,
will get full of vodki and denounce the
“crime of ’67.” Of, course, they have
not heard of the “crime of ’73.” While
the price paid for Alaska is generally
known, few people are aware of the
tremendous returns from the land of
snow and seals. It has paid for itself
many times over and its career as a
revenue producer is in its infancy. The
fact. is that Alaska has given back
more than its purchase price in whale-
bone alone. The returns from this
article were $7,000,000 in 1890. They
are now something like $9,000,000.
Alaska has paid us to date $103,000,-
000. This enormous sum has been de-
“rived from furs, herring, salmon, cod,
ivory, whalebone and gold. At the
time of the last census the United
States had taken out $76,000,000. Since
then we have been enriched by $27,-
000,000. Of this $20,000,000 has been
gold and the remainder from other
products. These are giant figures, but
they are the exact truth. The first
actual settlement of that wonderful
country will begin next spring. The
sum total of what it will add to the
world’s wealth in the coming years
passes conjecture. It will be a pile of
money, mountainous and sublime.
It is a singular fact that the ex-
istence of gold in quantities along the
tributaries of the Yokon was known
to a few men a century and a half ago.
The truth has been held back by the
fur trading companies. They were not
after minerals and they feared the
ruin of their industry, which was in
itself agold mine. Trappers, explor-
ers andlmen who lived with the In-
dians were forbidden to tell what they
know on pain of death. The Russia
Fur Company did summarily shoot one
man who grew excited with drink and
blabbed. Thsat death is still remem—
bered in Alaska, having been passed
from mouth to mouth, as is the man-
ner of unlettered peoples. Other fur
companies have done nothing to de-
velop the country and have kept their
lips sealed. They foresaw the effect
of a torrent of immigration. Such
things cannot be hidden, however.. The
secret is out at last.
The revealment is due primarily and
almost wholly to a company that has
its headquarters in Chicago. The
Northwestern Transportation and
Trading Company has done more to
open Alaska to the world than all
other corporations combined. It has
established trading posts along the
YukOn- and. thus made possible the
penetration of the dread interior.
From this has come the discovery of
masses of gold and the resultant Klon-
dike rush- It has'been always the
policy of this company to take in as
many men as possible. The more
men, of course, the more trade. The
policy of the Alaska Commercial Com-
pany, the great sealing corporation,
has been directly converse. It has dis-
couraged immigration. An illy con-
cealed threat has lurked behind its ut-
terances. It has had a tremendous
“pull” in Washington. Such has been
the strength of this “pull’bthat it has
not only restrained legislation, it has
made laws. For a. long time it had no
rival. Indeed, in its own peculiar field
of endeavor it may be said to have
none now. The four Pribyloff Islands
—St. Paul, St. George, Walrus and
Beaver—alone have produced some-
thing more than $70,000,000 in seal
skins.
It is a prevalent idea that the
Alaskan territory produces only gold
and things of the sea, but this is
wrong. Even in Klondike, which is
far removed from the mollifyingl. ins
fluences of the Japanese current, hardy
vegetables grow in profusion, although
cauliflower and asparagus will not
ripen. Hay is as high as a man’s head.
When the country comes to be better
known it will be found capable of
making many things for humanity now
unthought of.
Forrest’s Sympathy Aroused.
The Boston Transcript recalls a-
story of Edwin Forrest during one of
his Boston engagements. A poor
artist called several times to see him
at the old Winthrop House. Each time
he brought a picture which he had
painted; he finally left it with a note
stating that he was in needy circum-
stances Forrest read the note, and
took the wrapping from the picture. It
proved to be a painting of himself as
Spartacus. Forrest gazed upon it a
moment, and then ejaculated to the
clerk: “Give him $10. If he is as poor
as his picture he must be on the point
of starvation!” ‘
“Barin' me landlady and me wash-
w'oman,” said“ Mr. Horrigan, with hon-
est. pride, "Oi owe no man a cunt."—
Indianapolis Journal. .
y .
HE MARRIED THE‘MOTHER.
[low a Kentucky Maiden Acquired .5. Sta
lather Instead of a Husband.
In the White Oak.~ neighborhood, in
the eastern end of the county, lived a '
comely widow, Mrs. Martha Berry,
aged about forty, and her pretty daugh-
ter, Matilda, who had just entered her
eighteenth year. In the same neigh-
borhood lived Johnson Whitley, a pros-
perous farmer, of thirty and a widower.
Whitley had been paying attention to
Mrs. Berry’s daughter for the last six
months, and it was generally supposed
throughout the neighborhood that they
would be married soon. The mother,
however, would not give her consent
to the match, but she did not object
to the young widower’s calls. He,
pleaded with the widow for the hand
of her daughter, and the young couple
decided on an elopement says the
Louisville Courier-Journal. .
All the arrangements were made for
the clandestine leave taking, but the
watchful mother discovered what was
on foot, and on Friday night, the time
set for the elopement, she went ‘to her
daughter’s room shortly after dark and
bound the girl hand and foot. She
also tied a gag in her mouth and took
her to her own room and tied her to
the bed. She then returned to the
daughter's room and when Whitley
came to steal away his lady love the
widow answered the summons, and
without speaking a Word, joined the
young man in the yard. He assisted
her into his buggy and drove with her
to Grayson, the county seat of Carter
county, where he had arranged with
Judge Morris to perform the ceremony.
Whitley was struck by the silence of
his companion, but as she leaned con-
fidently on his arm and appeared to be
sobbing all the time, he could do noth-
ing more than caress her now and then
and cheer her up by telling her that
her mother would forgive her. He
had. no idea that he was carrying off ‘
the mother instead of the daughter, and
it was not until after the cerembny was
performed on the Judge‘s front porch
and they had repaired to a hotel that
the deception was discovered by Whit-
- ley.—New York Herald.
'said the King:
in but I do not kill them.
THE NATURAL BRIDGE OF TO-DAY.
One of the Notable Place of Interest 150
Years Ago.
The Natural Bridge is 215 feet in
height, 100 feet in width, with a span of
90 feet. Under the arch might be
placed the Washington monument at
Baltimore. 'Cedar Creek, the stream
over which it stretches its arch, is clear
as crystal. No photograph or painting
can impress the mind with its immen-
city or grandeur, or geometrical pro—
portions, or the rich'coloring, or the
picturesque surroundings. ~ One must
feast his eyes upon the mighty arch
to realize its vastness.
are the outlines of an Americaneagle,
formed by moss and lichens. Upon
one side is where George Washington,
when a surveyor for Lord Fairfax, 150
years ago, carved his name in the rock.
The ravages of time and exposure of el—
ements have nearly obliterated the
name, but some of the letters are quite
distinct. In the years gone by Henry
Clay, Daniel Webster and many promi
nent statesmen, before railroads were
built, spent days of inconvenient trav
el to look upon this—one. of the wane
ders of the world. Now the iron horse
speeds over its steel roadway, and in
a. few hours one can reach this destin‘
ation without fatigue—Baltimore Sun.
A PROPOSAL IN THE TYROL.
I! I Girl Accepts a Glass of Wine from the
Lover, She Consents to Marry,
In the Tyrol the first time a young
man pays a visit as avowed lover he
takes with him a bottle of wine. and,
pouring out a glass, presents it to the
object of his affections. If she ac-
cepts it the whole affair is settled and
his proposal of marriage (unspoken)
has been accepted. Sometimes she is
not prepared to surrender at once, and
then she will make excuses as to wine
disagreeing with her, or that her
priest had forbidden her to take any,
or, in fact, any subterfuge that occurs
to her at the moment. The purport of
the excuses is that the proposal made.
by the offer of the wine is premature.
Not a word need be spoken, as the act
of “bringing the wine,” as it is called,
is synonymous with the act of pro-
posing, and the custom dates back to
the ninth century. If any of the wine
is spilled it is considered an unlucky
omen, and there is a saying for an un-
happy marriage: “They have spilled
the wine between them.”—Philadel-
phia Ledger.
A Rebuke to the Christians. .
For a heathen and a gentleman out-
side the civilizing influences, of Euro-
pean manners, religious and customs,
. the King of Siam makes an exceeding-
ly good showing. He has On several
occasions administered stinging and
well-deserved rebukes to his enter-
tainersgto which they were unable to
make adequate reply. Nothing neuter
or more merited in the way of a crit-
icism of the religion and the customs
of his would be civilizers could be de«
vised than his comment upon the col-
lection of the stuffed animals, once
the property of Crown Prince Rudolph
and now in the-Natural History Mus-
eum of Vienna. On being told, in re-
ply to his question, that the Prince
had killed all the animals himself,
“I love animals dear-
I keep
them.” Thus spake the heather to a
Christian people. _
“You should get your ears lapped,
Bryan,” said a smart tourist to an
Irish peasant whom he was quizzing;
“they’re too large fora man.”
“An' bedad.” replied the Hibernian,
“I was just tbinkin’ yours would want
to be made larger; sure they're too
‘
w‘Ly-‘ -.. ‘v . -
,shortfor‘an ass." _ , .1 ,
Under the arch '
vii
Norwalk Chronicler