6 WINNERS AND LOSERS. tie man who t\uits at the first rebuff la one of the men who fail; ,\ni the man who deenio three efforts enough Is one of the mea who fail! • The man who believes, down In his heart. That he never was born to sway. Or togo to the front In a leading part- To rise o'er the crowd, some day— Is one of the men who fail! The man who labors but for himself *s one of the men who fail; •Mo matter how vast his piles of pelf, He is ore of the men who fail! Che man who has never enjoyed the thrill That follows a kindness shown Has never won, and he never will!— Though the earth were all his own, He would still be doomed to fail! The man who never gives up is one Of the "Lucky men" that win. Who believes that his best has never been done Is one of the men that win; The man who has faith in himself and stands Forever ready to try Whatever men do with heads or with hands Will be numbered, by and by, A3 one of the men that win. The man who praises wherever he can Is one of the men that win; "Who raises the hope of his fellow man la one of the men that win; A man may shiver and starve, alone. And die at the foot of the hill; But if he has loved and If he has known What a child's love is he still la one of the men that win! —S E. Klser, in Chicago Times-Herald. KING. A stirrms story af Amy Life in THe [Copyright, 1599, by F. Tennyson N'eely.] CHAPTER XVl.—Continued. All along the line from right to left there ran the cross-country road con necting the broader highway, from Ma late to San Rafael and Paranaque on the west, and from Paco by way of Sin galon to Pasay. In front of the right wing all was swamp, morass or rice fields. In front of the left wing all was close, dense bamboo and jungle, save where the broad, straight roadway led on past Block House 13, or the narrow er cart track stretched southward, over arched iu places by spreading branches, and commanded at its narrowest path by the swarm of dusky fighters in Block House 14. A year before the blue shirts stormed these forest strongholds from the south, and took them from the troops of Spain. Now they were com pelled to turn and storm them from the north; for, just as Stanley Armstrong said at San Francisco, the Filipinos had turned upon their ally and would-be friend. Aguinaldo had bearded Uncle Sam. And while the volunteers and regu lars fo the right could only remain in aupport, it fell to tha lot of the left wing of this brave brigade to assault in oimost impenetrable position an enemy sLrmed with magazine rifles or breech loaders, and entirely at home. The bugles rang the signal; the officers in silence took their station, and, stepping into the narrow pathways through the jungle, crouching along the roadways or crashing through the stiff bamboo, the blue shirts drove ahead. Two, three minutes and their purpose seemed un discovered. Then suddenly Block House It blazed with fire and a storm of bul lets swept the road. The earthworks in the thicket to the right and left seemed to be crowded with a running flame; and down on their faces fell the foremost soldiers, their gallant leader shot through and through, plunging head long, yet in his dying agony waving his surviving men to get to cover. Venge fully now the "Krags" opened in reply to Remington and Mauser. The blue shirts struggled inch by inch through the network of bamboo. Still the • torin swept up the roadway, and no man could hope to face it and live. But, •little by little, the low-aimed, steady volleys, driven in by squad and section ■through the canebreak, or by company and platoon across the westward awamps, told on the nerve and disci pline of the little brown men in the bamboo. Their shots flew swift, but wild and higher. Then a daring lad, in the rough field uniform of a subaltern of infantry, sprang like a cat into the * fire-flashing lane, and, revolver in hand and a squad of devoted fellows at his heels, dashed straight at the wooden walls ahead. In frantic haste the oc cupants blazed shot after shot upon him and his heroic followers. One after another three went down; but in an other instant, the lieutenant leading, they reached the block house and dart ed through the open doorway, the last of. its garrison fleeing before such un heard-of daring and determination. And then came the rush of comrades cheering down the lane, tumbling over the earthworks and the luckless gang that, still crouching there, held to their position, and all the southward leading road was ours. But, over along the next lane, a parallel track through the timber, there had been as stern a check; and the fury of the fire from the trenches In the thickets forced brave men to cover and dropped others in their tracks. "By God, we must have it!" al most screamed a tall captain, pointing with his sword to the flashing block house half hidden in the trees. "Hear those fellows on the other road? Don't let them beat us. Come on, lads," and out hr (iarted into the open, an instant target for a score of Mausers. Out, too, leaped half a dozen men, one a tall, lithe, superbly built young athlete, with a face aflame with resolution and rage of battle. Out leaped Billy Gray from the corner of the crossroad, and, cheering madly, called on others to follow. Down went the captain, shot <tbrougli (lie Laee. Down went the near- must man, the tall youth who was fust to follow. Down \u*t a brawny ser geant, who had stopped to raise his fallen captain; but on swept a score of others while the bamboos blazed with the fierce volleying of the Krags. For ward In scores now, yelling like Apaches, rushed the regulars; and somehow, he never just knew how it happened. Gray found himself a mo ment later straddling an old field gun in a whirl of dust and dirt and smoke and cheers, was conscious of something wet and warm streainingdown his side, and of being tenderly lifted from his perch by brawny, blue-sleeved arms, given a sip from a canteen, and then, half-led, half-supported back to where the surgeon was alreadj - kneeling by the tall young soldier on whose brow the last dew was settling, on whose fine, clear-cut face the shadow of the death angel's wings was already traced. The poor fellow's eyes opened wearily as he sipped the stimulant pressed upon him by eager, sympathet ic hands, and glanced slowly about as though in search of some familiar face; and so they fell on those of Billy Gray, who. forgetful for the moment of his own hurt, threw himself by the stran ger's side and seized his clammy hand. A half smile flitted over the pale face, tile other hand groped at the breast of his blue shirt and slowly drew forth a packet, stained and dripping with the blood that welled slowly from a shot hole in the broad white breast. "Give to Gen. Drayton— Promise," he gasped, and pushed it painfully toward Billy Gra,v. Then the brave eyes closed, the tmrrr head fell back; and Gray, staring as though in stupefaction into the placid face, found himself drooping, too, growing dizzy and faint and reel ing, but still holding onto his trust. "Don't some of you know him?" asked the surgeon. "He's past helping now, poor lad. Here, you drink this, Billy;" and lie placed a little silver cup at Gray's pallid lips. "lie came a-runnin' from over at Block House 12 with a note from di vision headquarters just as we went in," said a veteran sergeant, drawing the back of a powder-stained hand across his dripping forehead, then re spectfully stepping back as a young of ficer bent down and glanced at Gray. "Much hurt. Billy, old man? No? Thank God for that! Look at who? Where? Why, God in Heaven, it's I'at Latrobe! Oh, Pat! Pat! dearoldbov —has it come to this!" CHAPTER XVII. In the fortnight of incessant action that followed the mad attack of that starlit Sunday morning, there was no place for Billy Gray. Sorely wounded, yet envied by many a fellow soldier for the glow ing words in which the brigade commander praised his conduct and urged liis brevet, the boy had been carried back to the great reserve hos pital at Malate. The breezy wards were filled with sick and wounded, and certain of the rooms of the old con vent once used for study and recita tion had been set apart for officers. There were three cots in the one to which they bore him, and two were al ready occupied. Even in his pain and weakness he could hardly suppress a cry of dismay; for there, with his arm bandaged and in splints, his face white from loss of blood, lay Stanley Arm strong. Time and again the boy's heart and conscience had rebuked him f#r the estrangement that had arisen be tween him and this man who had proved his best friend. Time and again he had promised himself that he would strive to win back that friendship; but well he knew that first he must rein state himself in Armstrong's respect; and how could he hope for that so long as he surrendered to the fascinations that kept him dangling about the dainty skirts of Witcliie Garrison? Oddly enough, the boy had hardly both ered his head with any thought of w hat Frank Garrison might think of his at tentions or devotions, whatever they could be called, to this very captivating and capricious helpmate. When a hus band is so overwhelmed with other cares or considerations that he never sees his wife from morn till night, so ciety seems to correspondingly lose sight of him. Down in the depths of his heart the boy was ashamed of him self. He never heard Armstrong men tioned that he did not wince. He knew and she knew that, coming suddenlj upon them as Armstrong had that tropic night on the Queen, he must have heard her words, must have realized that some compact or understanding existed between them, which neither Gray nor Mrs. Frank could palliate or explain. It had not needed that epi sode to tell her that Armstrong held her in contempt; and yet, when they chanced' to meet, she could smile up into his eyes as beamingly, as guileless ly, as though no shadow of sin had ever darkened her winsome face. Eut not so Gray. He moaned in secret over the loss of a strong man's confidence and esteem. lie longed to find a way to win it back. He had even thought to goto the colonel with his trouble, make a clean breast of it, tell him the truth— that he had fallen deeply, as it was pos sible for him to fall, in love with Amy Lawrence; had hoped his love was re turned; had found it was not—that she had only a frank, friendly, kindly interest in him; and that, wounded and stung, he had fretted himself into a fever at Honolulu, aided by Canker's aspersions, and then—well—any man is liable, said Billy to himself, to get smitten with a woman who tenderly and skillfully nurses him day after day; and that's just what Witchie Gar rison did. But somehow the opportun ity to tell him never seemed to come; and now, now that Armstrong and him self were thus thrown together with the prospect of being in the same room day and night for the best of the month, a third officer, a stranger, lay there, too, and in his presence or hearing any con fidences would be impossible, even if Armstrong encouraged them, which he probably would not. In this enibar- CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JULY 12, 1900. rassment Billy's wish was that the colo nel were fifty miles away. It was fate and a hard one. thought he, that brought him there —an ever-present re proach. It was luck of the worst kind that they should be confronted under such circumstances, since neither could retreat. He submitted in anxious silence to the keen, quick examination of the skillful surgeon in charge and to the redressing of liis wound. lie could bane been proud and happy but for that shadow on his life, of which Armstrong's presence would so con stantly remind him. He could not even think how his dear old dragoon daddy would rejoice in the congratulations that would surely greet him when the story of the brave dash of the —te'entli, Billy among the foremost, should reach the states. lie could not even dream how it might affect her— Amy Lawrence. He was beginning to be ashamed now in this presence to think how that other—how Margaret Gar rison might, be impressed, forgetting that, to the army girl who has lived long years on the frontier, tales of heroism are the rule, not the exception. He wondered how long it could be be fore she would come to him to bring him comfort. Surely by this time she knew that, he had been seriously, pain fully wounded. He did not know, how ever, that at the very first sound of battle Frost had bundled the sisters aboard his launch and steamed away to the transports. Yet, what comfort could her visit bring to him with that stern censor lying there, seeing and hearing all? Billy Gray that Monday night could almost have wished that Armstrong's slumber might be eternal, never dreaming that before a second Monday should come he would thank heaven with grateful heart for Arm strong's presence, vigilance and inter vention. In three days the colonel was able to sit up. Within the week he was per mitted to take air and exercise in the spacious court of the old college, his sword arm in its sling. But Gru% and the j-oung officer of volunteers were too seriously wounded to leave their pil lows. The —teenth had occupied a new line far south oft he old one; but. at one time, several of Billy's brother officers had dropped into see him and tell him regimental news; and one of them, the young West Pointer who had broken down at sight of the dface that stirring Sunday mornir.:;. ,ld him of Latrobe's soldier funeral and of Gen. Drayton's presence and speechless grief; and Billy's hand groped beneath the pillow for that little blood-stained 1 //fy! "Give to—Gen. Drayton—promise—" packet still undelivered. He had promptly caused the information to be conveyed to the veteran commander that, it was his own lost nephew who had died his soldier death in front of the firing line; but the packet still re mained in his hands; and even before the tiny thermometer confirmed his views, the keen eye of the. surgeon saw that something had heightened Billy's fe ver that da} - ; and so, when just at sun set there came driving into the court the most stj'lish equipage in all Manila, and Mrs. Garrison fluttered up the broad stairway and confidently asked to be announced to Mr. Gray, the stew ard in charge of the door was very, very sorry, but—the doctor had given in structions that no more visitors should see the young gentleman that day. Mrs. Frank smiled indulgently, and asked for the doctor himself, and beamed on him with all her witchery and begged for just a few words; but the suave, placid, j'et impenetrable doc tor said he, too, was 801-1-3-—sorry that Mr. Gra3 r was not able to see an3 - one else, but such was the case. Mrs. Gar rison said she thought if Mr. Gra3 - knew that it was —but perhaps Dr. Frank didn't know it was she who had nursed Mr. Gra3' so assiduously at Honolulu. Dr. Frank did know that and more; but he did not sa3" so; neither did he yield. There were tears in her e3'es as she sprang into her carriage again; but they were tears of anger and defeat. She dashed them away the very next in stant and smiled joy and congratula tion, even adulation, at sight of the tall, stalwart officer, his arm in a sling, who stood the center of a staring group as her carriage Hashed bj'. She would have ordered stop; but while the rest of the party had gazed as they lifted their caps, Armstrong's uninjured hand per formed its dut3", his cap had been lifted with the others, but not so much as a glance went her wa3 - ; and Margaret Garrison, bitter in spirit, drove on down past the old cuartel to her luxurious quarters where Nita, a piteous shadow of the "sweet girl graduate" of the year before, was awaiting her coming. With the insurgents' retreat and the advance of the American lines there had been a gradual return of the refugees among the transports; and Frost had finally brought his birdling back to shore; but Nita dare not drive, she said, for fear of again seeing those stern, reproachful eyes. The guard at the gate hail re ceived orders to admit no more of the rank and file, even when they came as messengers; and so the child was safe, said Margaret. As for herself, she must drive, she must see Will Grav. But the instant she reentered tha house Mrs. Garrison knew that ij tiring her brief absence some jew trouble had come. Good heavens, could she never leave Xita's side that harm did not be fall her! At the head of the broad flight of stairs rtood her brother-in-law, a black frown on his brow. "Go in and do what you can for her," lie briefly said. "I thought—she'd lie glad to know that —that—fellow would trouble her 110 more." "That fellowV" she gasped. "You mean—" "I mean —Yes—Latrobe—killed and buried a whole week ago." "And you told her!" she cried clinch ing her little hands in impotent wrath. "You—brute!" [To Be Continued ] AN INF AWT PRODIGY. Lawrence Attracted the At ten t lon of (iarrtck, I-'oote, llurke and SlierlUan. Raphael, with genius at his back, did not come to maturity so quickly, nor did Rubens, triumphant at Ant werp, hold popular applause so long; for Lawrence kept his admiring pub lic to the last, and was something of a wonder both as man and bo 3*. Ilia whole career was brilliant, yet not through intrinsic force; his art was successful without being great; ha wat honored and jiraised down to his grave, and yet he possessed no genius. There are men who achieve popular success without genius. Lawrence was one of them. The father was a man of some birth and education, but he had what is called "the poetic temperament," and never got on very well in the world, lie was at different times a barrister without a brief, an actor without a part, a keeper of the White Lion inn at Devizes without guests enough to make it pay. When \ - oung Lawrence was three years old his father made a change of base and moved into the Black Bear inn. It was here that the boy was placed upon a table to re cite Shakespeare for the guests. Here also he developed a wonderful gift of making portraits in pastel o£ the pass ing public. A guest could have a por trait painted while he waited, and the speed of the artist was not less won derful than his age. The duchess of Devonshire and Lord and Lady ICenyon were among his early sitters, and the record is preserved that Lady Kenyon's likeness was drawn in profile because, as the child artist declared, "her face was not straight." In a short time he had attracted the attention of Garrick, I-'oote, Wilkes, Burke, Sheridan and Johnson, and his father began traveling with him about the neighboring coun try and exhibiting him as one of the wonders of the age.—Century. PRISON BABIES. The I.lttle Newcomer* Always Cre ate a Flutter of Excitement in Their Gloomy Illrtliplacen, Yery few people outside official cir cles know what a large number pf ba bies are born every year in the infirm aries of prisons and penitentiaries, the little people always causing quite a flutter of attentiveness and excite ment among female warders and pris oners alike. Of course, there is a vast difference in prisoners, and sometimes the per son least attentive to the prison bahv is the mother herself; but, on the oth er hand, the general body of the wom en prisoners make the most pathetic efforts, by means of all manner of trifling scraps and odds and ends, to fabricate .articles of wear and orna ment for the out-of-place stranger. Quite three-fourths of the women volunteer to tend it, and it is often the ease that the most, refractory and dif ficult of the prisoners soften and greatly alter bj r being allowed to do little things for it; indeed, it acts throughout like a veritable ray of sun shine among the whole of the poor prisoners, who generally manage to get themselves into great good humor by suggesting as volubly as the prison rules will permit fantastic names for the child. Within a certain period of their birth these children are taken away from the mother and are tended elsewhere with the utmost care and humanity.- —Cincinnati Enquirer. C'astle Campbell. There are few more picturesque spots in Scotland than Dollar Glen, and no more interesting ruin anywhere than the grim old castle of the Campbel's, known in the olden time as Castle Gloom. Once visited, the castle will never be forgotten. It is not only beau tiful for situation, adding might to the majesty of the everlasting hills, but.it abounds with weird traditions that give the added charm of romance. To visit the glen by moonlight and to see the bare walls of the castle gleaming white through the trees, is to be filled with a mysterious feeling of awe, that is in tensified by the rushing of the water in the deep, black chasms beneath. It is a scene to uplift the soul—a glimpse of nature in her wildest and most im pressive mood —and it is not surpris ing that every year an increasing num ber of visitors find their way to this most beautiful part of the Ochils.— Scottish American. An En terprlslnjcr Merchant. A town which has played its part in history for more than a hundred 3'ears ought to be forgiven for being a little sleepy by this time, although its newer neighbors may be inclined to poke fun at it. It is told that a Bladensburg merchant was dozing in his store one day, when a little girl came in with a pitcher and asked for a quart of molasses. The merchant yawned, stretched himself, half opened his eyes, and then said, in an injured tone: "Well, ain't there nobody what sells molasses in Bladensburg but me?" —Youth's Companion. SOUTHERN SHIPPING. Sentiment Regarding Its Restora tion to the Seas. Aid Viewed with Puuir by Shipper** of the South—Advan* of Trade with Oth er Republics. The rapid growth of manufacturing in the south, and its beneficial effect upon other industries, are arousing in the minds of the people new thoughts and hopes for the future of their great section of the union. One of the most reliable authorities on southern progress and development is R. H. Edmonds, the well-known Bal timore publisher, who keeps in con stant personal touch with the up-to date sentiment of the leading manu facturers, bankers and influential men of the south. It is his repeated dec laration. and as a result of his own observations, that the southern busi ness men are almost a unit in favor of national aid in the reestablish men t. of our ships upon the seas. He finds the sentiment among men representative of southern industrial and commercial progress quite at variance with that disclosed by their representatives and senators in congress. The latter seem to represent a theoretical opposition to the utilization of modern methods for the advancement of industrial prosperity that has kept back south ern development for fully a genera tion. In the foreign trade of the United States, as conducted between southern and foreign ports, one of the TOO MUCH FOR BRYAN. > tjZZ'i* *~ AUNTY—Wei!, William? BRYAN —It can't be beat rarest sights is the American flag floating from the sterns ot the ships conducting that trade. That the de mand has grown in the south for na tional legislation for the upbuilding of our merchant marine seems to Mr. Edmonds to be logical. lie sees in the realization of the growing hopes of his people in this respect much of permanent benefit to the section he represents. He has made an especial stud 3' of ante-bellum sentiment on the subject of American maritime devel opment, andi was surprised to find that as far back as GO years ago the sentiment in favor of safeguarding and promoting our merchant marine commanded the thoughtful attention of the most advanced of southern statesmen and business men. In an address before the Cotton Spinners' association, at Charlotte, North Caro lina, recently, Mr. Edmonds stated that in 1843 John C. Calhoun presided at a convention in Memphis ot which the subject was discussed. In ISSI a report was made at a Virginia con vention in favor of facilitating the mails through the establishment of steamship lines running between Hampton Koads and European ports. Another convention in Memphis, held in 185."!, favored government encour agement and protection in the estab lishment of steamship lines between southern and European ports. The Charleston convention of 1854 urged congress to encourage the establish ment of mail steamships, even to the extent of granting state bounties in the form of rebates to shippers etn plo3'ing American vesse.s. In 1856 Louisiana's legislature passed an act paying $5 per ton bounty on all ships exceeding 100 tons burden built in the state. A report made to the legis lature of Alabama as far back as 1838 showed that her citizens contributed $1,800,000 a year to get their cotton to Europe, and contained the quer3': "if this amount must be paid, why shsuld it not be paid to our own cit izens?" No wonder a score of years later Alabama's legislature passed an act granting a bounty of $4 per ton on all steamers built within that state. At Charleston, in 1539, Robert Y. j Hayne discussed the subject before a | commercial convention Held in that city, in which he said that southern i and southwestern states were pro ducing nearly three-quarters of the I domestic exports of the union, a!-, though importing not to exceed or.e tenth of th»> foreign merchi ndijpg en-' terintln> United .States, anu that, for eign commerce was "causing cities of other states to flourish while south ern cities were failing' into decay.'* Lieut. M. F. Maury, famous for his invaluable aids to mariners upon the oceans, was impressed with the immense benefits southern states would derive from the establishment of steamship lines between southern and European ports. For many years he urged the investment of southern cap ital in such lines, showing the great and growing power her rich foreign commerce was giving to Xew York, and deploring the fact that the south was missing its opportunities to share therein. He saw for Norfolk, Va., pos sibilities of development which have never been realized, but which it seems possible are likely of fulfillment through the growing scarcity of Euro pean coal and the inevitable depend ence of the world in the future for the greater part of its coal supplies upon the United States. In our trade with fcther American republics Lieut. Maury saw advantages even greater than those possible through our commer cial intercourse with Europe, and ho was never done urging upon the peo ple of the south the wisdom of gen erously encouraging American mari time development through the estab lishment of steamship lines to the Westw Indies, Central and South America. He advocated a ship canal across the American isthmus and predicted enor mously beneficial results to our trade and shipping to follow. Away back in 1858 the assembly of Virginia incorporated a $50,000,000 steamship line under the name of the Atlantic Steam Ferry company, but which failed to carry out its designs be- cause of the sectional differences be tween the north and south. The scheme involved the immediate construction of four ships of the Great Eastern class, to regularly run between southern and European ports. Their great valuta a* auxiliaries to our military resources were then clearly pointed out, as well as their usefulness as nurseries for American seamen who would be ready to respond to their county's call if needed. No wonder, in these circum stances, Mr. Edmunds in his speech made it very clear that the revival of our foreign-going shipping is not u sec tional or partisan question, but; is a purely industrial, commercial aod aux iliary naval question. He said: "Orig inating. as the south is already doing, about $400,000,000 worth of foreign ex ports a year, shipped. aJrnost exclusive ly in vessels that fly the British. Ger man and other foreign flags, the south may well be deeply concerned in the upbuilding of a merchant matlne be cause of the magnitude of its present export trade." This trade he expected would rapidly multiply, and he pre dicted a eotton crop in the not. distant future of lu(),000,000 bales. It is not surprising to find that both of the great political parties are. now vying with each other in thieir espousal of an American merchant marine.That the representative men in both parties have formally and finally rejected the suggestion of "free ships"—which means the purchase of British instead of American-built ships for our mari time needs—may be taken as an indi cation of both the conservatism and progress! veil ess which augurs well for early effective and permanent legisla tion in behalf of our too long neglected shipping upon the seas. It is tliis una nimity of sentiment that is converg ing upon a demand for such legislation that will have become so insistent and imperative as to compel such legisla tion at the next session of congress. More Talk. Those who are olde enough to remem ber will recall how t be democracy as serted that the country was drifting into imperialism because there was talk of nominating Grant for a third, term. Vet they nominated Cleveland three times, and now talk of imperial ism because McKinley is to be elected a second time. \l liat Oregon Wanli. Oregon has pronounced in no uncer tain way its confidence in the present administration and asks for fouryears more of the prosperity granted by th» McKinley regime.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers