sa,
Bellefonte, Pa., Aug. 28, 1896.
BOBBY AND HIS SLED.
At eventide my little boy on Grandma's rocker
climbs,
And begs for that old story he has heard so many
times;
He always wants to hear it, just before he goes to
bed,
This story that his grandma tells of Bobby and
his sled.
“Well, Bobby was a little boy I knew long years
ago,
He used to bring his sled to school whenever
there was snow ;
And gallant little Bobby, with a heart that swelled
with pride,
Would ask the little girls at school to go out for
a ride.
The giriz all rode on Bobby's sled, he gaily
trudged along,
They cheered his way with many a jest, with
laughter and with song ;
And tho’ the cold would numb his hands, and
make his nose quitered,
He took them all, both large and small, a-riding
on his sled.
“One morning Bobby came to school, an apple in
his hand,
He told the girls to stand in line, obeyed was his
command ;
He threw the apple far away, then turning 'round,
he said:
‘Whoever brings that apple back can always ride
my sled.’
A rush, a scamper, all the girls ran pell-mell for
the prize,
And then a pile of pinafores was all that met his
eyes ; 2
But soon a chubby little girl, with cheeks like
roses red,
Demurely brought the apple back, and blushing,
hung her head.
She rode that day on Bobby's sled, and every day
of course ;
*Twas hard to tell which liked it best the driver or
the horse ;
But certainly they kept it up all through the win-
ter long,
Till springtime smiled upon the earth and all the
SNOW was gone.
“The years rolled on, the girls all grew in beauty
and in grace,
And Bobby's nineteenth year had put a mustache
on his face,
Discarded was the little sled, a team of greys and
sleigh
Fulfilled the promise he had made that little girl
in play.
One day they to the parson’s drove, and there be-
fore them all,
She promised she would take and cherish Bobby
sled and all ;
And now my story’s finished,” says Grandma with
a sigh,
“Your Grandpa’ there was Bobby, and the little
girl was 1.” :
“Twas Grandma rode on Bobby's sled,” the
children laugh with glee,
And run away, and jump in bed, as happy as
canbe; ° :
And soon they ali to dreamland go, and every
curly head
Is filled with dreams of little girls, of Bobby and
his sled.—J. 8. Fearis.
“BIBY.”
““Yus, Miss,” said the mother,
bad to-day. I took’er to the ‘spen
the Walk yesterday. The doctor ’e
it’s indigestion of the lungs.”
‘I think you must mean congestion,
said Miss Carvossa, mildly.
‘Ain’ it the same thing ?”’
‘It doesn’t much matter what you call
it, so long as you understand, and make
other people doso. But I think conges-
tion was the word.”
‘Youn knows best, miss,’’ said the moth-
er. ‘“‘Tain’t no scholar : my ’usband’s a
lovely scholar, ’e is.”
She was a little lean woman with a
pinched face and a flat chest. Her eyes
were pale and so was her scanty hair, un-
brushed and held by one lengthy hair pin.
She was a little lame.
‘‘Is this one your youngest?’
‘“Yus, that’s Biby—we call ’er Biby,
though she’s 6.”
She bent over the child mechanically,
and stood up.”
“I’ve ad seving,”’ she said, in a tone of
dispassionate calm, ‘‘and I’ve buried five,
I’ave. The doctor says the boy’s goin’.
I'd like to a kep’.Biby.”’
She spoke with hesitation, as one who
makes known an exorbitant and unjustifi-
able desire. Her mouth twitched silently.
‘It seems ’ard to bury all,’ she said.
Then, reflecting that Miss Carvosso was a
distriet visitor, and had coal and soup tick-
ets in her little handbag—*‘‘0’ course, it’s
all for the best, the Lord’s will.”
“‘Biby’’ struck into the conversation at
this point. ‘‘The boy’’ was sitting by an
inadequate fire, and had raised the heavy,
over-brilliant eyes of the consumptive, as
is mother mentioned his probably speedy it was—*‘Biby."’—1I Hooper in thé Human-
disease. He was unmoved — apparently
uninterested. ‘‘Biby’’ moved a restless
head, covered with tangled red curls, and
spoke :
“I wants a drink of milk—gimme me a
drink o’ milk.”
Then, as the mother stood watching with
dull eyes, she wailed and whispered : “I
wants a drink o’ milk, I do.”
The lame woman fumbled nervously
with her hands.
‘‘Don’t you cry, ducky,’’ she murmured.
‘‘Mother’ll give Biby a drop o’ tea.”
‘Milk is much bet—’’ began Miss Car-
vosso, and stopped. She was young and
new at her work, but she had a tender
heart and the quick wit that is born of
sympathy. She grew crimson, as one
guilty of unutterable crime, and spoke in a
still small voice.
“Mrs. Thorpe—have you—er—is there
any milk ?”’ —-
The woman began to pant a little in an
odd, spasmodic fashion. ‘‘No, miss. There
ain’t nothing but a little tea. My young
man ‘e’s out o’ work.”’
‘What is your husband ?”’
‘“'E does what ’e can, miss, and ’e
brings ’is money most all ‘ome, ’e do. ’E’s
a good ’usband,” with pride. ‘’E’ll
knock me about a bit now and again of a
Saturday night, as a man will, y’ know,
miss, but ’e’s a good ’usband, ’e is.”’
Miss Carvosso looked dubious, and drew
out her purse.
“Will you get her some milk,’’ she said,
‘‘and I will order some to be sent every
day from the dairy.”
She stooped and touched the red curls
softly before she left the house.
_“‘Biby’’ recovered — her recovery was
either due to the milk or was the effect of
her mother’s unreasonable desire to keep
one child out of the seven that had blessed
her union with the man who only exercis-
ed the marital right of battery on Satur-
days.
‘‘Biby”’ recovered, and was quite well
when ‘“‘the hoy’s’’ funeral went down the
malodorous purlieus of Paradise street.
Re ER
She went away into the country for a fort-
night in June. Her mother sat at home
and stitched collars from 6 in the morning
to 12 at night, for the magnificent wake of
3d a dozen. .
“It is a shame,” said Miss Carvosso.
‘Women ought to combine.”
“Y’see, miss,”’ said the mother of Biby,
“tis very well to talk till you sees the
children ’ungry, and then you tikes wot
you can git. You'd do it yourself, miss, if
you'd got Biby to feed.”
‘‘Possibly—but the system is wrong.’
‘I dessay, miss,’’ said the collar stitcher.
“A sight o’ things is. But the men,
they’ve got the system, and the wimmen,
they’ve got to turn to and feed the bibys.”’
Then with a burst of epigram : ‘There
ain’t not no system’ll feed an empty belly,
miss. An’ my man, ’e’s got no regular
tride—’e’s hoffen out of work. If I wasa
combinin’ Biby’d starve. If the work’s to
bead, I can make 14s working from 6 to
12, and find yer own cotton.”
You can’t go on working the machine,
Mrs. Thorpe,’’ said Miss Carvosso. ‘‘You
cannot do it.”’
For ‘Biby”’ was likely to be ousted
from her position as ‘‘little Benjamin.’
“I did with Biby, miss, right up to when
I was took bad, and I was at the machine
three days after.”” It is monstrous !’’ cried
the new district visitor.
It was possible all that—and more. But
the firm for which the collar stitcher work-
ed was not to blame. Collars could not be
sold cheaply and ‘‘hands’ paid highly.
Cheap collars were demanded—and sup-
plied, flesh and blood being even cheaper
than collars.
‘‘Biby’’ returned from the country, and
remained the youngest of the family, for
the mother bore a dead child, and went
down to the gates of death herself. She
rose to work too soon and had to go into the
hospital with inflgmmation of the lungs
and rheumatism.
She came out at the beginning of the
winter, and Miss Carvosso, who was going
abroad, gave her a beautiful outfit of warm
clothing. The doctor had stated that the
patient must wear flannel. She was
grateful, and went home to her husband
and ‘‘Biby.” Work was very bad that
winter, and the inhabitants of Paradise
street pawned most of their worldly posses-
sions. A hard frost set in, and ‘‘Biby’’
contracted a chill which developed into
bronchitis. :
The mother applied for help to the vicar,
and obtained it, but the charitable fund
was limited, and sickness was rife ; when
‘ that help was gone she pawned her last
chair (she would not take the blanket from
the sick child, ) and bought coal and milk.
She took ‘‘Biby’’ to the parish doctor.
who examined her curiously.
“Ought to be a strong child,’ he said
curtly. ‘‘Healthy—well made—but she
won’t pull through this without warmth
and nourishment. Medicine's no use.”’
The mother went home and sat watching
the child ; her face expressed very, little,
but her heart was filled with the desire to
‘‘keep ‘Biby’ 7.
After a while she hit upon a notable de-
vice for keeping her, and put it into ex-
ecution.
Miss Carvosso returned home two days
later, and visited her district.
She met the parish doctor issuing from
the Thorpes’ house.
‘Oh, the poor things !’’ she cried, stop-
ping, ‘‘are they ill again ?”’
““There’s not a ha’porth o’ health in the
whole district,”’ said the doctor, bluntly.
‘But, by Jove, this is a case of suicide.”’
“Suicide !”’ 2
‘‘Oh—not as it’s usually understood.
The baby there was ill—and the mother
stripped off everything she’d got but her
Adress and boots and pawned it.”? *
‘Is she ill ?”’
“Ill ! She’s dying, poor wretch !’’
Miss Carvosso entered the house. Her
lips were white and her eyes were full of
tears. A big, slatternly woman, around
whom floated a spirituous aroma, was
nursing the convalescent ‘‘Biby.’” The
dying woman lay on the bed, breathing in
short, spasmodic gasps. The man was not
there.
“Step in, miss,’”’ said the ministering
presence. ‘‘She’s a-goin’, pore dear. One
of the coorates ’as bin ’ere a prayin’ lovely,
but she couldn’t ‘ear ’im.””
Miss Carvosso knelt down by the bed.
“My dear,”’ she said tenderly. ‘My
poor dear—do you know me ?"’
The eyes opened and stared at her.
‘‘Y? see, miss,”’ said the hoarse, dying
voice, choked by an ominous rattle—‘‘I
know you gev ’em me, and I hadn’t ought
—but—I wanted—to keep—‘Biby’ .”’
There came an hour when sister Kath-
arine, formerly Miss Carvosso, walked
through the midnight streets from a sick
bed. Her way lay along Piccadilly through
the midst of that horrible taffic which is
there carried on night after night. Among
the throng a young girl just emerging from
childhood, attracted her attention. She
had halted to parley with a man at the cor-
ner of a street : the flare of 2 gas lamp fell
on her face, and Sister Katharine saw that
itarian.
Li Hung’s Visit.
His Reception at Governor's Island by President
Cleveland.
Li Hung Chang, the richest man in the
world, and the power behind the Chinese
throne, who is now making a trip ardund
the world, will arrive with his suite in
New York to-day, and he will be received
tomorrow at Governor’s Island by Presi-
dent Cleveland. There will be a naval re-
view and a great showing of pomp. On
Sunday Li will visit the tomb of General
Grant and in the evening will dine with
John Russell Young.
On Monday, 31st inst., the party will be
taken to West Point, where a military re-
view will be held. Tuesday, September 1,
the Chamber of Commerce of New York
will give a reception and dinner in honor
of the great man and on Wednesday he
will visit the city of Brooklyn.
John Russell Young will entertain Li as
his guest in Philadelphia on Thursday,
September 3. He will arrive there in the
morning and spend several hours in as
pleasant a manner as can be arranged.
leave for Washington, where he will spend
two days, and from there he will go to Nia-
gara Falls, afterwards traveling by the Cana-
dian Pacific railroad to Vancouver, where
he will embark for China. It islikely that
President Cleveland may endeavor to in-
duce Li to travel to the Pacific slope on one
of the American transcontinental railroads
and visit Chicago, St. Louis, Omaha and
Minneapolis.
——The funeral of a workingman in Ja-
pan costs 83 cents unless the family wishes
to have it especially fine, when it will
cost as much as a $1.25. The price of a
coffin is 20 cents, and the rate of cremation
is from 40 to 75 tents. Refreshments fig-
ure up from 11 to 25 cents.
On the evening of Thursday Li will :
Who Has that Money.
A Probable Answer Found to this Important Question.
We desire to know if you have found out
Who Has That Money ?
Last month we stated, from official rec-
ords, that the farmers of the United
States, owing to a shrinkage in prices, re-
ceived $500,000,000 less for their grain, to-
bacco and cotton crops last year than in
1892. This is a very large sum to lose in
one year, but it does not represent the
shrinkage in the price of their live stock,
fruits, potatoes and other: vegetables, but-
ter and cheese, poultry and eggs, which
amounted to nearly as much more. There-
fore, having had no satisfactory answer to
our former inquiry, we again ask, Who
Has That Money ?
Since 1873 the value of farms in the State
of New York shrank one-half, entailing a
loss to the farmers of many hundreds of
millions of dollars. In the other Middle
States, in New England and the central
West a similar shrinkage, if not so great,
has taken place. We want to know. also
Who Has That Money ?
Will no one give a correct answer to this
question ? The leading organ of the Lon-
don money getters of our town recently at-
tempted to do this and informed the public
that nobody has it, that while the farmers
have lost, no one has taken it, no one now
owns it. How’s that ? We supposed there
was at all times just about the same vol-
ume of money in the world ; now that
money was earned by the farmer and be-
longs to him, yet he has it not ; therefore,
where is it? Who has that money ?
It is a principal of physics that nature
abhors a vacuum : yet all that money is
gone and nobody knows where. This is
very strange !
0, yes, Western competition has reduced
the prices of farm products in the East and
brought down farm values! Then that
money must be in the hands of our West-
ern brethren. They must be very rich in-
deed. But are they ?
We requested the worthy candidates to
look around among their neighbors and see
if it could be found there. They all said
not. It is not lodged among the citizens
of the mountain states nor can it be found
in the shot bags of the prairie farmers ; the
whole Mississippi valley is bare of cash and
the cotton planters of the South deny hav-
ing seen it. Our folks number a full mil-
lion and a half but Rot one in all that num-
ber is able to identify the holders of that
missing wealth. We have applied to mer-
chants, manufacturers, professional men,
mechanics and hired men all in vain. Not
one can tell WHO HAS THAT MONEY ?
Now the farmer wouldn’t mind the loss
so much if he was sure that he would not
be required to contribute a like portion of
the fruits of his enterprise and toil the pre-
sent year to the same unknown party or
parties ; but they really do not feel able to
lose any more. Therefore it is important
to know, without further delay, and it is
our business to find out for them Who Has
That Money ? :
We have not confined our search to this
continent alone, but have looked for tid-
ings of that money in other lands. Seek-
ing for information in the columns of the
London Times, the great organ of the Lon-
don money getters, we came across an edi-
torial that may throw some light on the
mystery of lost money. In plain type and
unabushed phrase we read what follows :
“It seems impossible to get bimetallists to under-
stand that there is quite a large number of us for
WHOM a GENERAL RISE in prices has NO
CHARMS WHATEVER. We like them LOW, nnd
the LOWER THE BETTER. If they all went
down ot HALF their PRESENT FIGURES, we
should rejoice, because we have NOTHING TQ
SELL. and a great many things TO BUY. For
those who have things to sell WE DO NOT FEEL
ANY GREAy CONCERN.”
Nothing would please the American far-
mer better than a rise in prices, for he has
things to sell. Lower the better may suit
London, but it does not suit us. But we
are asked to wait until those people for
whom the Times speaks get ready for bi-
metallism or a general rise in prices ; but
since they ‘‘do not feel any concern’”’ for
our welfare, we fear that we shall have to
wait a long time. England’s imports of
things she buys were $700,000,000 greater
last year than her exports of things she
sells, so she is going to work her British
gold standard and compound interest game
as long as she can. You may like it ; we
do not.
A cablegram from London to a New York
newspaper on July 1st, stated that ‘‘the
banks are full, choked with idle money.
There is now on deposit in the hank of
England alone more than $250,000,000
more money than was lying there nine
‘months ago.’
Will the above extracts serve to throw
Jight on the all important and burning
question :
WHO HAS THAT MONEY.
—Philadelphia Farm Journal.
Salvation Cavalry.
A Squadron Soon to Leave Baltimore for the South.
Before the month of August has passed
there will leave Baltimore a company of
women who will travel on horseback
through the Southern States, having for
their object the saving of souls.
They are Salvation Army lassies, says the
Baltimore Herald, and their corps will be
the first cavalry brigade of the arms in this
part of the country. It will be under the
command of Staff Captain Blanche B. Cox,
who is in charge of the local forces at pres-
ent. This will be the second expidition of
the kind that Captain Cox has headed.
Last autumn she took out a brigade in the
West, which swept over Colorado, gather-
ing sinners at every cross-roads. She may
be seen any evening leading. the meetings
at the army’s headquarters, in the old First
M. E. Church, Charles and Fayette streets.
She is a slight, graceful, pretty woman,
with big, serious eyes and crisp, bronze-
colored hair. She originated the idea of
the cavalry and bicycle brigade, and is en-
thusiastic when she talks of the work that
she hopes to accomplish in the south.
The brigade will consist of a number of
women mounted on horses and an ambu-
lance wagon, accompanied by several wom-
en on wheels. They will wear the regular
army dress, which is adaptable for riding
or wheeling. The ambulance wagon will
carry tents and supplies. One man will
accompany the brigade to do the rough
work.
Meetings will be held by the roadside
along the route, and in the principal vil-
lages a longer stay will be made.
——Our distinguished visitor, Lord
Charles Russell, lord chief justice of Eng-
land, who is now visiting in New York,
is said to draw a salary of $220,000,
though in point of fact it is probably less.
It could be a great deal less and still fur-
nish a siriking contrast to the underpay of
some of our own judges.—New York Ad-
vertiser.
Our esteemed contemporary neglects to
take account of what ‘‘some of our judges’
get on the side from corporations and trusts
whose servants they are. It has been no-
ted that ‘‘some of our judges’’ become mil-
lionaires on salaries ranging from $4,000 to
$10,000 per year.
< N———
Queer Facts About Li Hung Chang.
made mail, He is 74 years old. He owns
his own railroad. He is the richest man
in the world. His inquisitiveness is his
strongest characteristic. For lunch he eats
two chickens preserved in vinegar. His
valet sleeps at his door every night. He
has had more than one stroke of apoplexy.
He is a great lover of the national beverage
—tea. His food is prepared by his own
servants in the Chinese fashion.
Lord Li the Envoy’s son is his right-
hand man of business. When Li gradu-
ated, he stood at the head of a class of 15,
000. He does not drink intoxicants, hut
always serves champagne to his guests.
He believes in plenty of vegetables’ and
thinks foreigners eat too much meat. His
dinner consists of sixteen courses, not
counting tea and cakes in the end. He has
more than a thousand personal servants in
his various places. He is of pare Chinese
extraction, having no mixture of Manchu
blood. His palace in his capital city Tien-
Tsin contains hundreds of rooms. His fa-
vorite dish is roast duck with kidney beans,
after which he eats fresh pork with jam.
He has 10,000 miles of telegraph, connect-
ing his offices with various parts of the em-
pire. He is the greatest Li that ever lived,
but his family name is properly pronoun-
ced Lee.
The last Lady Li, like most Chinese
wives, was the treasurer and book-keeper
of her husband’s household. Li has hoth
an English and a Chinese physician with
him. The former administers electric baths
to the face. Though an old man, Li is full
of vitality, with the fresh mental and phys-
ical vigor of a man of 50. When General
Grant visited China during the tour of the
world he was elaborately entertained hy
Li. Liowns steamships, mines and other
properties and has recently been establish-
ing cotton factories in China.
SOMETHING OF HIS POWER.
The bullet fired by the Japanese fanatic
at Li is still in his face and was recently
photographed by the X rays. He has in
his suite Chinamen who speak every
language and everything printed about him
is translated for his use. As Viceroy of
China, Li has more than 35,000,000 people
under him, and over these he has the power
of life and death. He stands six feet one
inch in his stockings and the boots which
he wears have soles of wood about an inch |
thick. The famous yellow jacket is of the
finest satin, and is embroidered on the
breast and back with double dragons ina
circle. Li uses a Chinese water pipe with
a long stem and a silver howl as big as
your fist into which the smoke passes
through scented water.
He is the first Ambassador whom China
has sent to Europe, all other representatives
of the Empire have been Ministers. His
present suite numbers forty persons.
When he negotiated the treaty of Peace
with Japan his suite numbered 135. On
his travels Li is accompanied by his coffin,
which is an elaborate and beautiful piece
of work and cost $5,000. It was made
ten years ago from a single mahogany
trunk. a
Li carries an autograph letter from the
Emperor of China to President Cleveland,
which he is obliged to deliver personally.
It was Mr. Chang who negotiated the
terms of peace with Japan, in the course of
which he was shot in the face by a Japa-
nese fanatic. When not on dress parade
Li wears a skull cap of black silk, with a
crown shaped like a hemisphere. This has
a big solitaire diamond in the front. Li is
a celebrated writer and is the author of
some good poetry, while he practices writ-
ing Chinese as an amusement daily.
Li was surprised to find the girls at pub-
lic schools in Europe studying books ; he
said they ought to be at needle work and
that hooks were only for men. Lord Li,
his son, was commissioned by him to hand
over the great Island of Formosa to Japan
after his father had concluded the treaty of
peace. Li’s last wife had over five hun-
dred fur robes, and her wardrobe required
the constant service of a lady in waiting,
five assistants and twentv slave maidens.
It was by Li’s authority that thirty Chinese
boys were sent for education in 1872 to the
United States and that the Tung-Wan-
Kwan College was established at Pekin.
AN OLD PUBLIC FUNCTIONARY.
For half a century Li has been in the
public service, but this is the first time he
has ever visited the nations of the West,
and the second time he has been outside
his native land. His official hat is said to
look like an inverted cuspidor, the brim
being turned up all around, and the
peacock’s feather is fastened by a button to
the top of the hat, and sticks far ont be-
hind. Li’s mother died only a few years
ago, and in accordance with Chinese cus-
tom he resigned all his offices to mourn at
her grave. After three months he was re-
instated by a special imperial decree. Li,
accompanied by a servant who carries
his pipe, lights it for him, and then, with
great formality, hands it to the envoy, who
takes three puffs and hands it back to be
refilled.
Li’s “boy” isan ex-commander of the
Chinese navy, who, when he lost his ship |
in the Japanese war, was condemned to
death, but reprieved and taken as a servant
by the great Oriental. The ostensible ob-
ject of Li’s trip was to represent the coro-
nation of the Czar, but incidentally he is
believed to have studied the possibility of
floating a great Chinese loan abroad. The
two most remarkable decorations on earth
—the Yellow Jacket and the Three-Eyed
Peacock’s Feather—are held by Li, who
was temporarily deprived of them when
the Chinese troops were whipped by the
Japanese.
Li is the only private citizen alive who
maintains his own standing army. His
soldiers are the best in China, and but for
them he believes he would have lost his
head when the Pekin Court was looking
for a scapegoat in the Japanese war.
He has been received with the highest
honors by the crowned heads of Europe.
The German Emperor and Queen Victoria
have entertained him. In France, Eng-
land, Germany and Russia he and his suite
have been guests of the nation. The Rus-
sian government is alleged to have a diplo-
matist-de! - “shadowing’’ Li, a Prince
Ootomski, wuo is expected to find out
what offers for railway extensions, loans,
etc., may be made by the Envoy in oppo-
ition to the proposed Russian deal.
His a name is Li. He is a self-
——There are over 80,000 miles of coun
try roads in Pennsylvania, not including
turnpikes or roads under corporate control.
These highways cost the farmers of the
state (nominally) in 1895 $3,808,574, or
$48.73 a mile. Pennsylvania ought to Le
admirably served in this particular at that
rate, but if road” aking is managed as it
usually is in country regions, it is not well
to take these large figures too seriously. A
road tax is commonly worked out in most
parts of the country, East, West, North
and South, so that while the tax counts
large, the work it results in counts in al-
most all instances remarkably small—won-
derfully short hours and very little done in
| them.
Ee
The Moki Indians’ Smake-Dance.
At a signal from the leader, Kopeli, they
entered the plaza in single file, on a rapid
walk, and after circling the plaza, ranged
themselves in a slightly curved line hefore
the tent of cottonwood houghs in which
the snakes were placed, and on each side
of which the fifteen Antelope priests stood
in line singing a wild and gutteral chant.
A wilder hum arose, a portentous. gut-
teral, snarling sound, which passed soon to
a strong, manly, marching chant, full of
sudden, deep-falling, stern cadences.
Then Kopeli, the Snake-chief, and the one
second to him joined arms and danced
slowly down before the kisi. They stopped
and when they rose Kopeli held in his
mouth a snake. His companion placed his
left arm over the Snake-chief’s shoulders,
and together they turned, cireling to the
left. The snake hung quietly from the
Snake-priest’s mouth. It was held at
about nine inches from the head.
him walked the third man, the snake-gath-
erer. They passed with a quick, strong
step, one might almost say with a lope, in
time to the singing.
Immediately behind came another group
the snake-carrier holding an entire snake
in his mouth, the head protruding about
an inch. These two were followed hy a
third man, the snake-gatherer ; and soon
the entire line of thirty-three Snake-priests
had broken into eleven groups and were
circling the plaza, one man in eagh group
carrying from one to three snakes in his
mouth. The singing continued, stern and
swift like a strong stream, and although at
times the dancers lost step to the music, in
general they may be said to have retained
throughout all the rush of movement a tol-
erable accuracy of rythm. A group of
women stood near and threw sacred meal
upon them as they passed. They kept far
from contact, I observed. The excitement
of the spectators increased.
faces.
One man passed with an enormous hull
snake in his mouth. Its tail hung down
to his knee.
waid. The reasons for this were obvious.
The little snakes were the most vicious, and
struck repeatedly at the eyes and cheeks of
the priests.
One man went by with two large rattle-
snakes in his mouth. Another held a rat-
tlesnake and two larger bull snakes he-
tween his lips ; and a third priest, to si-
lence all question of his superiority, crowd-
ed into his mouth four snakes! The gath- |
erer who followed him held in the fingers
of his left hand six or eight snakes, strung |
In fact, they all hand- |
like pieces of rope.
led the snakes precisely as if they were
skeins of yarn, with the single exception of |
the moment when they snatched them from
the ground.
Once or twice there was a brief struggle
between the snake-gatherers and the fallen
snake. In every case which I observed the
snake-gatherer brushed the snake with the
feathers of his snake-whip until he un-
coiled and straightened out to run. After
the gatherer picked him up he was as help-
less as if dead,
As the dance went on, the excitement
grew. The clink of metal fringes and the
patter of rattles filled the ear. The snakes
dashed inte the crowd. shouts and screams |
and laughter rose, but the wary snake-
dancer in every case caught the snake be-
fore it passed out of reach. In one or two
instances when a rattlesnake ran toward |
the women with their basket plagues of
meal, they broke into wild screams and
ran. Evidently they feared the rattle-
snakes quite at much as any of the white
women. At last, so deep was my interest
to see, I lost all sense of hearing. They all
moved like figures in a dream.
During all this time, whatever the out-
cries among the spectators, ‘whatever
the screams or laughter among the women
with the meal, the Snake-priests, intent
and grave, showed no trace whatever of ex-
citement. It is absurd to speak: of hypno-
tism or frenzy of any kind. They were
not in the slightest degree moved either to
fear or laughter, or even to the point of he-
ing hastened or retarded by the presence of
the white man. They had a religious duty
to perform, and they were carrying it for-
ward, intent, masterful, solemn and per-
fectly silent. Incredible, thrilling, savage
and dangerous as it appeared to us, to
them it was a world-old religious ceremo-
nial.—From Harper's Weekly. -
Fatigue.
‘‘He never loses a moment,’’ used to be |
thought an unqualified compliment. Now |
we are not quite so sure that it says much
for the wisdom of him to whom itis ap- |
From many different directions |
plied.
comes the testimony that too much activity
is loss instead of gain, since over fatigue
poisons the physical system.
An analysis has been made of the poison
engendered by fatigue, and it has been
found to be similar to the ancient vegeta-
ble poison, curarl, into which the In-|
dians used to dip their arrows ; and a niost
deadly poison it was.
tigue is of the same chemical nature, and
is as truly deadly as if it is cremated more
rapidly than the blood can carry it off.
There is no known antidote for this poison,
and its dangers beset alike the pleasure-
seeker and the worker
An Italian physician recently examined |
twenty-four bicycle riders after they had
ridden thirty-two miles in two hours and a |
quarter. It was found that nearly every
instance the nervous system was so far af-
fected hy fatigue that the hearing of the |
cyclists was defective. After a rest of two
hours most of them could hear as well as
ever.
Another practical test was made upon |
fifty grammar school children who were to
take part in a written examination of two
hours and a half. Before entering upon
the strain which such an examination
must necessarily be, each child was in-
structed to lift as much as he could with
the dynamometer. This was done to test
the muscular strength of each pupil hefore
the examination.
After the work in the school room was
ended, the children were again told to lift
as much as possible in the same way. It
was found that with one or two exceptions
they could not lift as much hy several |
pounds as they Ifgd lifted before the exami-
nation.
It is now a demonstrated fact that pro-
longed mental strain will” diminish the
pulse, produce fullness and heaviness of
the head and bring about palpitation of
the heart.
—————————
Smoking Forbidden.
Tobacco smoking has been tahooed for
the priests in his diocese by the bishop of
Kurch in Russia as ‘‘a disgustingly bad |
habit, which is unhefitting for those who |
serve the altar and a great temptatiom to
the laity.”
—-Vincent Ray, a Chippewa Indian, |
who died the other day in Superior, Wis.,
left an ‘estate ofS75,000.
Behind !
I pushed close |
to the circle of dancing priests to study their
Each snake-carrier danced |
with his eyes closed «nd his chin thrust for- |
The poison of fa-
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
Miss Lydia Bradley, of Peoria, Ill., who
has already given that city a hospital, a
| Home for Aged Women, a church and a
| park of 145 acres, has declared her inten-
tion of immediately erecting a Polytechnic
Institute, which, with its endowments and
appurtenances, will revresent a cost of
$1,000,000.
Poppy and geranium red are the newest
colors, and black hats trimmed with white
or black velvet and gauze poppies are the
latest Parisian importations. Notwith-
standing this fact roses are by no means
unpopudar, nor are they likely to be, ex-
cept.‘for a short space. Fickle as Dame
Fashion is, she always returns to her old
loves. t
The lip-biting habit will mar the pret-
tiest face ever turned out of Nature's work-
| shop. All the cold cream, lip salves, and
| glycerine lotions introduced upon the toilet
| table will not remedy the parched, cracked
| appearance due to a continual lip-gnawing
i process. Not until the habit is entirely
broken off is there any hope of a change.
Girls frequently drift into this ugly prac-
tice through a foolish vanity that prompts
them to ‘wear their dimples’’ all the time
others bite their lips from nervousness,
and sometimes if a girl has pale, colorless
lips she will try to vivify them by an oec-
| casional pressure with her teeth. After a
time, however, she nibbles away uncon-
sciously, and hy-and-bye her mouth loses
its pretty curves, becomes rough and puffy
looking, and all the charm of her face is
gone.
A perfect skin one sees very seldom these
days, yet every year there is an improve-
ment. To have a pretty complexion—
which is never very white but a soft,
bloomy pink—a true clear olive we all ad-
mire so much in daughters of the South.
The liver and kidneys are the safety valves
| of the system ; if either are not doing their
i work regularly and perfectly go immediatly
to your physician and have the matter at-
tended to, excepting you also know the
wonderful benefits of Cascara Sugrada for
the liver, and plenty of lemonade with a
tiny pinch of soda for the kidneys, which
often do more effective work in a few days
than pellets and pills galore. After your
internal machinery is going on quite as it
should you are ready to wage a desperate
and victorious war on those ills to which
your poor face is heir.
If you have those unsightly blemishes
called pimples, remember there are two
causes for them, to wit : blood insuffi-
ciently nourished, or you may be indulg-
ing in too rich a menu. The former needs
a tonic, while the latter trouble demands a
heroic cutting down of your diet—confine
yourself to plain, nourishing food, avoid
rich gravies, condiments, soups, pastry and
edibles that tax thé digestive apparatus too
severely. Ordinary pimples are caused
frequently by sheer poverty of the tissues
and uncleanliness. A dab of soap on a rag,
a hasty scrub and a quick wipe with a
rough towel is a poor makeshift for clean-
ing the face, but I have not space for
‘“Donts.”” I shall tell you what to do.
Take a fine cream (not cold cream or vase-
line. I beseech you, since they are stu-
1 pendous hair-growers), but a specially pre-
| pared cream of lovely ingredients purely
vegetable, rub a little of it into ever pore
| of the face and neck, let it remain a mo-
ment, then take a soft linen rag and re-
move.
Now behold the state of that linen. It
. 18 positive proof of the efficacy of fine oils
to search out the impurities on the surface.
{ Repeat the operation until no more dirt
I comes off. Then take another soft rage,
with a pure soap and water as hot as can
| be endured, and wash thoroughly every
| inch of surface. Now wait afew moments.
{ Then give a thorough rinsing with water
{ as cold as can be borne not to shock. In
| this water a few drops of benzoin should
| always he poured, to act as a tonic. Re-
{ member, never immediately use very cold
| water after the hot—wait a few seconds.
: Then close the pores quickly. Apropos of
i soap—one of the most important things ex-
| tant to beauty-seekers is the quality of the
| soap they use upon their bodies. Volumes
! might be written of the terrible blemishes
{ caused by cheap (?) soaps. The greatest
| of all dermatologists, Erasmus Wilson,
says in one of his works, ‘‘None but der-
matologists have anything like an adequate
idea of the enormous harm done by the
impure soaps vended everywhere.’’
i The writer has| been in communication
{ with many skin ‘specialists who all agree
i with the above, one physician going so far
| as to affirm that soap fit to use cannot be
made under a quarter of a dollar per small
cake. This may be a little ‘‘faddish,”
still one must really be as wise as a ser-
pent in looking for a soap, that it has not a
vestige of animal fat therein. My own
way of testing soap was given me hy a
famous chemist. Scrape a little of your
soap in a saucer, wet it with salt water,
put it in the hot sun, and if in four hours
there is no rank odor (such as a meaty
smell) you may use it if you like—for it is
then pure. Soap is a daily necessity, and
| it is far better economy to pay high prices
| for it than have doctor’s bills of ten times
the amount for skin diseases which a vile
soap will surely insidiously breed.
After the skin 1s clear rub into it as
much ‘‘skin food’ as it will absorb. This
| is generally a preparation of lanoline, so
called because it really isa food for the
starving caticle, which is almost dead
literally for something to nourish it. Use
the lanoline every night and cleanse as
above next morning. Believe me there is
| every reason to hope your pimples will flee
before the goddess of reason. If they do
not, be quite certain that there is grave
danger and lose no time in seeing a quali-
fied dermatologist, who has added much
experience to more than a few years. A
dermatologist is not a mere tinker of the
complexion, but one who knows the tech-
nique of his business to the utmost detail.
Now, my summer girl, you who will spend
vour weeks by the sea, you should actual-
ly be ashamed to come home with a blem-
ish—of the face—excepting a little sun-
burn, which is only a temporary matter, or
even freckles, which nowadays can be
| taken away, but I mean a pasty, ugly
! rough skin that makes you a most un-
lovely sight.
Learn how to breathe. Every morning
of your life open your bed room
window wide, and take twenty
deep inhalations with closed mouth,
hold the salty ozone, in the air
passages as long as you can, then slowly
exhale with mouth open. - This sends the
| blood leaping in a revivified way through
| the proper channels and is wonderfully
beautifying for face and figure. Repeat
the same every night faithfully. If you
| are a manly girl I am very sorry ; still,
you'll get tired of it in a year or so. Mean-
| while take care of your heauty. Take that
awful cut-throat collar off this summer ;
: that.is exactly why your face is so rough
and yellow.
Ry