'I'HE RETURN TO THE OLD TOWN.
O the little old town that I left one day,
: Because it was quiet, still
,Has the name that it had when I went
away,
'And stands on the same old .hill;
But the ones that Were dear 1n the little
» old town,
With its one wide street running up and
own,
Have ceased to sit on the porches where
The roses Were trained to climb;
They have ceased to sew and to Whittle
there,
As they did. in the dear old time.
H‘he little old church with its wooden sheds
Still stands as it stead of yore;
{But the ones, Who knelt and who bowed
their heads
‘ .Are worshiping there no more!
{And the little old school where I carved my ’
name
On the homemade desk stands just the
same-—
‘B'ut the boys who are batting the ball to-
day
' 'And the little maids, fair and free,
{Are not the children who used to play
' On the common. there with me!
.The little old house. so dear, so dear,
Stands just where it used to stand;
:But not for m y and many a year
Has the lat obeyed her hand— .
The hand in which my hand was laid
. en my first few faltering steps were
ma
bum in the little old- par'lor there.
O'erlooking the little lawn, .
’Anothsr sits in her easy. chair,
; Andjhears the clock tick on.
pdhe little old town that I left one day,
Because it was quiet and st 1
Has the name that it had
9-way, ,
And stands on the same on bill:
:But the 'frie that I’ve traveled "back
home" d see '
{Are zone. or else are but strangers to me,
{and over the doors of the little old stores
' Are names that I never knew,
CAnd: the'dream that was dear of the “old
‘ home” here
Can never, alas, come true!
——S. E. Kiser, in Chicago Times-Herald.
en 1 went
A Little and a Big Hero
__..—-——
By Ino Strannik
Y‘ TWO cousins and I had come
from school to my uncle’s estate,
pale and overworked. Now, brown as
berries, we felt strong and mischiev-
ous.
The day was hot and suffocating.
The air seemed’ to be laden with some-
. thing more than the scent of new-
;nown hay and pine—a flavor so com-
mon on a. July day in northern Russia.
The grown people said: “The at-
mosphere is impregnated with elec-
tricity,” and although we boys of 12
and 13 years did not know what that
really meant, we were sure that, soon-
er or later, a. storm would come, for
the old shepherd had said so, and he
always told the truth.
In the afternoon a black cloud rose
over the horizon in the northeast. An
hour later a dark bank covered half
the sky and we heard the far away
rumbling of thunder.
Rain began to fall in large drops
and we, standing on the grass—covered
porch amused ourselves in watching
.the chickens run,
in the pond, the workmen hurry home
and the cattle rush for the stables.
An unexpected clap of thunder made
us jump, and we quickly obeyed the
call of my aunt to come into the
house, as we had no desire to stay out-
side any longer.
It. grew darker and darker. The
fiery zigzags of the lightning threw
a. yellow tint upon the people and
furniture in the room, and the thun-
der following quickly on the flashes
made the old mansion quiver to its
foundations.
A blinding flash, with a, deafening
crash almost at the same instant,
seemed to make the old cast-1e sway.
“Surely that struck somewhere
near,” said my uncle, jumping to his
feet and stepping to the window,
“Yes, it is Michael Kubarkin’s but
just across the river." he exclaimed.
“I must go at once and see that the
_fire is put. out.” He turned to us:
“Boys, you had better come along. I
may need you.”
No need to ask us twice. We felt
over-honored to be allowed to be of,
use atsuch an important moment. In
an instant. we were in our high boots
'and rubber coats, and started for the
'fire.
About 20 peasant-s stood around the
burning house, lamenting and pram
ing, but. not one offering to lend a.
helping hand.
“Quick,” called my uncle. “Take
some buckets; form a. chain; try to
put out the fire.”
“Your lordship,” said one of the
men, “lightning struck this house.
Only milk will put out- the flame.”
“Obey me,” thundered my uncle,
“and get. to work or I’ll put you on
bread and water until you forget how
milk tastes.”
Reluctantly the man started. My
younger cousin, Alexey, was stationed
to watch the superstitious crowd,with
orders to report at once if any one
refused to wOrk or tried to steal away.
“Now, boys,” shout-ed my uncle,
“let us see if there are any people in
the house."
Bravely“ we followed him into the
smoke and heat. of the slowly burning
hut. We soon discovered the dead
body of Michael Kubarkin and car-
ried it out. Again and again we faced
the danger. We rescued, two women
and a baby. They had been merely
stunned by the shock. While bring-
ing the child out I had noticed a form
lying near the door. In the darkness
and smoke I could not distinguish
whether it was a human being or a
dog.
I hurried back. My ‘uncle called me,
.but I rushed in, dropped on my knees
and crawled toward-the spot where I
had seen the form lying. It. was a
boy. He had been on his way home in
the next village and had sought shel-
ter in the house from the storm.
I dragged him out, and was about 15
yards from the house when there was,
on explosion- Kub, kin had bought
, ten pounds of powder at the last fair.
n---
i
2":
the ducks dive
_/
l
l
and had kept it in the large brick '
"stove. i
The hut collapsed. Some of the
bricks whizzed by my head, uncom-
fortably close, but the boy was saved,
and with aid of fresh air and a. little
brandy he soon came out of his stupor.
Ten years had passed. I was lion‘-
tenant in the body-guard of the czar.
Before Plevna we were forced into ac-
tive service.
One morning I was ordered to take a 3
private dispatch from the emperor to
Gen. Todleben. A guard of 12 men es-
corted me when I started from head-
quarters. It was a bright morning aft-
er several days of drizzling rain. The
road through the forest was very soft
and we could make but very slow prog-
ress. At about ten o’clock we reached
an open valley. I ordered a halt to de-
cide if I should cross the open space
or turn to the left and keep in the
woods untill ~had got out of sight and
reach of the enemy. It would havebeen
just '20 miles more of muddy road. The
dispatch was important and haste nec-
essary so! decided to move straight on.
Wellad hardly reached the open val-
ley when a small cloud of smoke from
the northern part of Plevna told me that
we had been seen and were now a target
for the Turkish guns.
A short. command from me brought
my men into a line, so that the enemy
had only one man to aim at. We were
moving at full speed toward the pro-
tecting timber on the other side.
The first shell fell short; the second
burst fully a. thousand yards behind
us; the third was “dead,” and passed 50
feet in front of us. . .
We were almost in the shade of the
tall pines when I heard a terrific
crash and lost my senses. I awoke very
soon, with a stinging pain in my head.
A man lay right over me. He was un-
buttoning my uniform. The thought of
a “war-hyena” flashed through my
mind. Cautiously I Opened one eye—4
just enough to see who my assailant
was. To my astonishment I saw that it
was one of my own men.
He had noticed my movement, and
whispered: “Keep still: we are the
only survivors.”
“But, man,” said I, “take the dispatch
and get into safety.”
“No,” he whispered; “I shall cover
your body with mine until help comes.
A MAN LEANED OVER ME.
The Turks will fire again as soon as they
see one of us move. You remember the
time you saved me from the burning
house of Michael Kubarkin ? Now is my
time to show that I have not forgotten
that I owe my life to you.”
A few minutes later came a little
troop from the timber, with the flag of
the Red Cross. Eleven men were buried
on the spot, and I was taken back on a
stretcher, having lost one eye and suf-
fering from a. broken jaw. _
While the dead were being buried and.
the first, bandages being put- On me my
brave soldier had disappeared, and one
of the horses of the Red Cross command
was missing. .
When. I was discharged from the hos-
pital I recognized in 1.2 sergeantnof my
regiment, who was the first to congrat-
ulate me on my recovery, the soldier
who had covered me with his body in
the hour of danger. It was the boy I
had dragged from the burning but on
my uncle’s estate—N. Y. Independent.
FOR ARCHEOLOGISTS.
Soudan Otters Scope for the Explora-
tion of Many Interesting Spots
Not Yet Investigated.
The opening up of the Soudan oifers
a rich field for the archaeologist, and
Egyptology will be enriched by many
important “finds.” A large number of
monuments of Egypt’s power which
have never been thoroughly inVestigat-
ed lie scattered about upper Nubia.
The temples of Soleb, the ruins of the
great Cushite cities Napata and Meroe,
the latter of which is 560 miles above
Assouan,’ between the fifth and sixth
cataracts, the antiquities at E1-
Mesaourat, eight hours’ journey from
Shendy, are all waiting for the
archaeologist. In fact, says the London
Chronicle, it is almost a virgin country,
for its antiquarian treasures have not
been investigated since Cailliaud, the
French traveler, studied them in the
early part of this century. His work,
“Voyage a Meroe,” etc., published in
15-326, still the main authority for a coun-
try which, if not the cradle of Egyptian
culture as was at one time supposed,
is, full of memorials of the power of the
Pharaohs. English archaeologists have
not been idle in following in the sir-
dar's wake. Dr. Wallis Budge, the
keeper of .the Egyptian and Assyrian
departments at the British museum,
was there last year, and has been visit-
ing some of the antiquities in the
neighborhood of Shendy this year. He
returned to Cairo a few days ago from
the Soudan. His discoveries have not
been made public, and the result of his
important investigations is impa-
tiently awaited by all who take an in:
terest inEgypt’s wonderful past.
Cotton Goods Factories In Brazil.
In the courscof the last decade the,
manufacture of cotton goods has be-
come a-,}tirmly established industry in
Brazfi. q] ' ,9 ‘ .
"1/
Answer It Honestly. '-
Are the Statements of Nor-
waIK Citizens not More
Reliable Than Those
of Utter Strangers?
This is a vital question.
It is fraught with interest to Nor-
walk. ,
It permits of only one answer.
It cannot be evaded or ignored.
A Norwalk citizen speaks here.
Speaks for the welfare of Norwalk.
A citizen’s statement is reliable.
An utter stranger doubtful.
Home proof is the best. proof.
Mr. Thos. Cooney, residing at No. 73
Harbor Ave., dock master fer ten years
and for thirty years a. sailor, says:
“When a boy I fell from a tree strik-
ing a fence; This accident left. me
with back trouble and the life on the
water with its hardships added their
share until I found out that backache
was more or less a steady thing, com-
ing on from time to time. I did not
understand that it came from the kid-
ne s, but reading that Doan’s Kidney
Pi ls cured backache I got a box at.
Hale’s (now Glendeuing & Co.’s) drug
store and was surprised to find how
quickly they acted. ‘They simply cur
ed me and that is all there is to it.”
~ Doan’s Kidney Pills for. sale by all
dealers; price 50 cents abox. Mailed
on receipt of price by Foster-Milburn
00., Buffalo, N. Y., sole agents for the
Rdmember the name—Dean’s—and
take no other.
MAKING OF A DRAMATIC STAR
The Actor Must Be Carefully Exv
plotted So as to Catch Pub-
lic Attention.
The rewards of success on the stage
are liberal, insists Franklin Fy-les, the
dramatist and dramatic critic, writifig‘
of “The Theater and Its People” in the
Ladies’ Home Journal. They are won
only by providing real entertainment of
some sort. The favorite grows slowly
into favor, as a rule, but there are ex-
ceptions. A strong play with afitting
role may carry an actor into celebrity
at once. Managers are ever on the alert.
to find some on of whom a star may be
mode. When one is chosen for that pur-
pose a contract is made with him for
a term of years, usually five. The actor
receives the salary he had been accus-
tomed to, and also a share Of the profits.
increasing from as little as ten per
cent. the first year to as much as 50
the last. The manager chooses the
plays, forms. the supporting company
and conducts the business as he pleases.
If the manager is putting forward a star
who will appeal to the better grade of
audiences, his methods of exploitation
will be dignified, yet he will neglect
nothing to arousersee'mly interest—that
is, he will seek space in the newspapers
by having the actors address literary
bodies, discuss questions of dramatic
art with reporters and do other things
to catch intellectual attention. But. the
end aimed atcannot- be gained unless the
star gives the money’s worth of enter-
tainment to his audiences.
NEW OCCUPATION FOR A DOG.
He “Was Being Effectively Used in
the Singular Role of
Scarecrow.
/ Bicyclists riding in the country not
many miles from New York have re-
cently been startled by hearing the
barking of a dog in fields which they
were passing, says the NJ: York Times.
They invariably put spurs to their ped-
als, as it were, and got out of his way
as quickly as possible. This had oc-
curred to a certain party of cyclists so
frequently that one of them, bolder
than the rest, dismounted to investi-
gate. He found in the center of a new-
ly planted field a smal shade thatch, and
near by a stake, to which was attached
a. rope, at the other end of which a. col-
lie dog was prancing and barking.
There was not a human being in sight,
and the dog could certainly not have
been confined there with the idea of
soaring away tramps, for his antics
showed that he was overjoyed to behold
the stranger. '
As the sun was very hot in the field,
the. bicyclist concluded to rest awhile“
under the thatch, still marveling at the
situation of his canine acquaintance.
A few moments later a lonesome “Caw,
caw, caw,” was heard in the air. The
dog at once became attentive; he lay
close to the ground, with his head
cocked to one side. A family of crows
presently alightcd in the field, but be-
fore they could begin their meal the
dog-was up and at them. The mystery
was then explained. The collie was used
as a scarecrow, and a most effective one
he proved to be. ’
“Burying the Tomahawk.”
The Sioux and Blackfeet will at. part-
ing dig their spears in the earth as a
sign Of confidence and mutual esteem.
This is the origin of the term “burying
the. tomaha-wk."
; Thefillre lhal (lures ,
' coughs,
Golds,
Grimm,
Whooping Cough. Asthma.
Bronchltls and Incipient
Consumption. ls
1'
SAMUEL D. BABOOOR
RICHARD A MoCuRDr
J Anne C. HOLDEN
HEBMANN C. VON POST
WILLIAM J. Sum
OLIVER HABBIMAN
ROBERT OLYPRAET
GEORGE F. BAKER.
DUDLEY Onoorr .
t
re“ A '7.- ‘14‘. Ta?
2 ' - . «j
.‘. . . 1
NOBWALK?
lH‘ MUTUALLI INSURANC
or NEW YORK.
E.
f/
l
RICHARD A. MOGU'RDYZ President.
Statement for the Year nding Dec, 31;,93, ‘
According to the Standard of the Insurance Department of the State Of New York.
Received for Premiums .
From all other Sources .
IN COME-
DISEUES‘MENTS;
To Policy-holders for Claims by Death
To Policy-holders for Endowments, Dividends, etc. .
For all other Accounts . . - . . .
'AssIEms. .
United States Bonds and other Securities ' ,. .
First Lien Loans on Bond and Mortgage . . .
Loans on Bonds and other Securities, . .
Real Estate, appraised by Insurance Superintendents
at $23,534,826.88 : Book Value
Cash in Banks and Trust Companies . . .
Accrued Interest,'Net Deferred Premiums, etc. . .
LIABILITIES.
Policiy Reserves, etc., .
Contingent Guarantee Fund,
Divisible Surplus _. .
Insurance and Annuities in Force
0 O 0
O I 9
O O C
O o O
1
L From, the Surplus a dividend will be apportioned as none
UlflPANY.
" 3:1
542,318,748 5-
172,687,880 92
$55,006,629 43
$13,265,908 00
II’.485.751 as
10,493,379 53 '
15359345033 33
$160,956.14! 33
68,303,580 90 -
9.396.619 00
20,604,649 61
11,621,377 36
W
5277.5 I 7.325 ‘ 36
233,058,640 468
. 42.238,684. 68.
. $2,220,000 00
1,77,517-325 30
$971,711,997 79
Ihave carefully examined the foregoing Statement-and find the same to be conec
liabilities calculated by the Insurance Department. CHARLES A. PRELLER, Auditov
'Board of Trustees- ' ‘
FBEDEBIO CROMWELI.
JDLIEN T. DAvms
" A. N. WATERnoosE
CHARLEs R. HEEDERsos
Rurus W. PECKEAM
J. HOBART HERBIOK
Wu. 1’. Drxon
ROBERT A. Gmmss
I GEORGE G. HAm
HENRY H. ROGERS
Jso. W Aoomnonoss
THEODORE MORFOBD
WILLIAM‘BAROOOE
SrurvEsANT Fran
Aueusrus D. J UILLIABD
CHARLES E. MILLER
WALTER B. GILLETTE
H. WALTER WEBB
ADRIAN ISELIN J a.
GEORGE S. Bownom
Wmnn C. WRIT-HE:
WILLIAK Roomanur
J AMEs N. JARVIE
CEAs D. Drour J R.
ELRRIDOE T. GERRY
JAMES SPEYER:
E.-
' ROBERT A. GRANISS, Vice-President.
0
WALTER R. GILLETTE, Generar
[SAAC F. LLOYD, 2d Vice-President
WlLLIAm J. EASTUN, Secretary.
JOHN A. FONDA. Assistant Treasurer.
WILLIA n P. SAh-DS, Cashier.
01‘.
DUER du—P. BRECK, Gorrespon ‘ing Secular:-
ALBEBT KLAMRO'I‘H, Assistaui Secretary
FREDERIC CROMWELL, Treasurer.
JAMES TIMrSON, 2d Assistant Treasurer.
EDWARD 1’. HOLDEN, Assistant Cashier.
EMORY MoCLlNTOCK, Actuary.
JOHN TATLOCK, JR, Assistant Actuary.
WILLIAM W. RICHARDS, Comptroller. ~
CHARLES A, PRELLER, Auditor.
C CLIFFORD GRETSIN GER,-As:listant Auditor.
HENRY S. BROWN, Assistant Comptroller
JOHN C. ELLIO I‘, Superintendent of Domestic Agencies.‘
ED \V ARI) LYMAN SHORT. General Solicitor.
MEDICAL DIRECTORs: _ ,
GRANVILLE M. WHITE, l D ““
.0. S. WINSTON M. D. Consulting. - ‘ '
I
ELIAS J. MARSH, M. D-
A. E cine. Messages ' .-
d
i
i .
/
. I
Eiouons E ETEEERE, @ener‘al Agents
0 hm".
Norwalk Chronicler