Democratic Wald
Bellefonte, Pa., Aug. 18. 1899.
MIDSUMMER SONG.
The amber smile of early morn
Hath flashed across the ripening corn;
And on the spider's netting frail
The dew is gleaming bright,
Asif an elf hath lost her veil
While fleeing from the light.
From out the of wood the streamlets run
On silver feet to greet the sun;
No bramble snare their steps can bind,
Their laughter rings above,
Where balmy blossoms weight the wind
With messages of love.
Now swells the din of merchant bees
Along the meadow’s flowery seas,
While music floats from every bough
In carols sweet and clear;
It is the heart of summer now—
The noontide of the year.
—Kansas City Journal.
THE TERROR OF POVERTY GULCH.
1.
What was once known in Colorado ‘‘as
‘the Gunnison rush’’ has long passed into
the hazy realms of tradition. It was an
exciting period while it lasted, and for a
mining craze it lasted an unusual while.
In its primative motives human nature
is the same everywhere; but in the sudden-
ly formed mining camps of the West its
superficial phenomena are modified by new
and picturesque groupings, which often re-
veal unexpected and interesting phases of
character.
It is the incongruous elements of this race
for wealth—as of any race—that render it
picturesque. If only those whose exper-
ience had any relation to mining joined in
these rushes to new mining camps they
would be very tame affairs. But the piti-
ful senselessness of the effort, so far as con-
cerns the greater number of participants,
imparts a certain ludicrous pathos to the
scene—a hysteric cheerfulness that vibrates
between a laugh and a sob, like any other
form of insanity.
The experience is theatrical —this is the
charm of it—a farce-tragedy with Chance
for scene-shifter and Hope and Despair tak-
ing turn about at the prompt-book.
Like all other camps of the Gunnison re-
gion, Poverty Gulch had its day and its
own special rush. People who got dis-
couraged at White Pine or Irwin rushed to
Poverty Gulch or Gothic, and those disap-
pointed in Poverty Gulch or Gothic rushed
off to some other point where the ignis
fatuus of hope lured them.
Mr. Edgar Cbadburn was the United
States deputy mineral-surveyor at Gothic.
No surveyor had yet been appointed at
Poverty Gulch, and when Sam McGruder
decided to have the Ibex claim surveyed he
had to send over to Gothic for Chadburn to
do the job. It was toward the end of
an October afternoon when Chadburn rode
slowly up the gulch with his surveying
outfit packed behind his saddle. He was a
strikingly intelligent-looking and hand-
some young man of twenty-three or twenty-
four.
It happened that he had never been called
over before, and as the sun goes down
early in those deep mountain gulches, he
was anxious to reach Mr. McGruder’s cab-
in before dark. He knew it was in the
gulch, but had no idea where he should
find it. Already he had passed several
rough little windowless huts, most of them
half buried in the hill-side and covered
with sods, hut these were the abodes of
miners who were out on the mountains,
and he had come upon no one of whom he
could make inquiry.
Presently he came upon a cabin standing
in the open, close to the road, which re-
joiced in the distinction of a half-sash
window each side of the door,above which,
printed upon a strip of cloth, was tacked a
sign bearing the following comprehensive
enumeration of arts and industries:
HOT COFFEE & DOUGHNUTS
at all hours
LESSONS ON THE PIANO &
BANJO !
WASHING & IRONING
neatly done
Mrs. L. Barclay
| Mrs. M. Ste
Smoke issued from the chimney, and
Chadburn rode up to the door and called.
There was no answer. He got down and
knocked, but no one came. Lifting the
latch, he pushed the door open.
The room had a deserted appearance,
neither the appliances of the laundry nor
the instruments of the divine art of music
being visible. The stump of a log smould-
ed in the fire place and some potatoes were
roasting in the ashes. There was a double
bunk in one corner, upon which lay the re-
mains of an old mattress. Near the fire-
place was a ragged lounge, over which a
battered gray blanket was spread. A cheap
cotton comfortable tossed back and the
miner’s pillow—a flour-sack stuffed with
hay—showed that it was the bed of who-
ever occupied thecabin. There was a pine
table under one of the windows,and on this
were a few cheap dishes, and an old lard-
can which served as a water-bucked.
Chadburn concluded that the cabin was
at present occupied by some poor miner,
and he was withdrawing, when his glance
fell upon a doll with its head stuffed into
the sugar bowl and its legs dangling in the
air. Being a sentimental young man, he
could not resist the impulse to pause and
examine it. The anomaly of such a thing
in the cabin of a miner who, from the look
of the room, appeared to be ‘‘batching,’’
amused the fancy. It clearly indicated a
child in the household, and he wondered,
seeing there was really no bed except the
lounge.
The doll appeared to have shared the
privations of the family, and to have borne
a disastrous part in its domestic infelicities,
for her nose was broken, her skull irrepar-
ably fractured, and her legs and arms
lacerated by recent wounds, through which
the sawdust ebbed slowly away with every
movement. One leg was nearly torn from
the trunk, while the only attire she could
boast was a single garment of the most
rudimentary construction —its original use
to be suspected from the words ‘‘Pure
Solar Salt’”’ in blue letters across the
front.
As Chadburn was remounting he heard
peals of children’s laughter from the aspen
thicket behind the house. Hoping to find
some one who could direct him to Mec-
Gruder’s cabin, or perhaps only because,
being a sentimental young fellow, he had a
a sympathy with children’s laughter as
with children’s tears, he left his horse, and
crossing the little stream, now near dry,
that ran behind the house, walked along a
few rods through the brush, till he saw,
beyond, in a more open spot, the group
from whom the laughter had proceeded.
They had bent over one of the taller of
the little aspens and were swinging and
teetering on them. The ring leader of the
company was a slender and supple girl of
perhaps nine or ten, with a tangled brush
of reddish brown hair. Her scanty cloth-
ing was a miracle of rags. She was clinging
with both hands to one of the bent over
trees and throwing herself with marvelous
agility through the figures of that gymnas-
tic feat known to the sturdy boyhood of
America as ‘‘skin the cat,’’ for the delecta-
tion of six or seven boys and girls, mostly
smaller than herself. It was this that oc-
casioned the laughter and applause.
She was herself the first to perceive the
presence of the uninvited guest upon the
scene, and dropping in alarm from the
tree, she gave an intimation to the others
that startled them all to their feet, and
then sprang after a young bull dog with a
bit of clothes-line attached to his neck, who
was sportively making off with her battered
straw hat.
Foreseeing that he should startle the lit-
tle audience, Chadburn had stood off at
some little distance, silently watching the
naive entertainment, with an amused
smile upon his handsome face.
Snatching her hat from the pup’s teeth,
the girl rewarded him with an affectionate
kick, and catching up the rope, dragged
him after her and joined the startled group
who stood staring at the intruder. With a
a toss of her head to reassure the frightened
youngsters, she called out, boldly: ‘‘What
you want! You ha’n’t scart nobody!’
Chadburn was too much amused at her
childish bravado and her fantastic appear-
ance to recall very definitely the motive
that had brought him to the spot, and he
stood for a moment looking the girl over,
with a smile that both frightened and vexed
her.
Wild, tousled, ragged and unkempt as
she was, there was still a grace and bold-
ness and brightness about the child which
captivated the young man’s imagination at
once, and marked her as of a distinctly
different fibre from the juvenile yokels who
surrounded her.
Yet the other children, if dirty-faced and
neglected, were warmly and sufficiently
clothed, while the garb of the young gym-
nast was pitifully miserable. It was evi-
dent that the pup had long made a famil-
iar plaything of her straw hat. Her feet
were covered with the wreck of a pair of
fine gaiters, which appeared to have been
discarded for sufficient cause by some
dainty giantess of the camp. There was
nothing suggestive of hosiery about her
ankles, but she wore a pair of boy’s trousers
that somewhat protected her legs from the
sharp weather, though they were badly ex-
ploded at the knees. Her dress, which had
originally been a warm wollen garment,
she had long outgrown. The skirt and
sleeves were in shreds, and the front of the
waist was so bedaubed with dirt and grease
that it had more the appearance of a
plaster than a garment. It might be said
rather to indicate her sex than to clothe
her. Her wrists and hands were dirty,
and chapped and red from the cold.
His smile disconcerted the girl more than
menaces would have done. It suggested
the idea of ridicule. She gave an impera-
tive intimation to the hoys of the group,
and without taking her eyes from the in-
truder’s face,reached down and picked up a
cobblestone. Each of the boys promptly
armed himself in the same way.
Then tossing her head again with a childish
bravado that captivated the smiling
stranger, she called out, ‘‘Now gimme any
more o’ your sass an’ I'll heave a rock at
you!”’
With increasing amusement Chadburn
threw up his hands in mock alarm, and
called out: ‘‘Oh, pray don’t! I beg a
thousand pardons. I want to make some
inquiries. Do you live in this cabin?’
*‘Course I do!”’
‘Oh, you do! May I beg to ask if you
are the lady whe conducts the laundry en-
terprise or the lady who offers her services
in the art of music? Are you Mrs. Barclay
or Mrs. Sullivan?”’
The older of the children perceived that
this was badinage, and glancing furtively
at their leader, began to snicker.
‘‘None o’ your business,”’ retorted the
girl. “Gimme any more o’ your sass an’
I'll sick Tige on you. Tige!”” She jerked
the rope and dragged the dog to the front
to be ready for emergencies; but again
Chadburn raised his hands protestingly
and declared he had intended no of-
fence.
“I simply want to inquire where Mr.
McGruder’s cabin in.”
‘‘Goin’ to MeGruder’s?’’ asked the child,
eagerly. ‘Oh, I kenshow you where it is,
mister!’ and calling out ‘‘Young uns, go
home, ’’ she dragged the resisting pup after
her, and darting fearlessly up to Chadburn’s
side, pointed out to him a cabin, about
half a mile up the gulch, which, being on
the hill-side, was visible.
The surveyor, who by this time was much
less interested in reaching McGruder’s than
in studying the wild, fascinating child,
reached down and took her cold and dirty
little hand in his own kindly, and opened
and shut his warm palm over her cold and
chapped little wrist to promote the circu-
lation.
The sentimental fellow saw a kind of in-
choate beauty, in the heavy tangle of red-
dish-brown hair that rolled into a sponta-
neous curl at the back of her neck, in the
broad forehead, and in the fearless, honest,
and penetrating blue-gray eyes. The lashes
were heavy and long and dark, and the
eyebrows were distinct and delicately
arched—the whole indicating in his mind a
fine mental and physical organization, which
was clearly being undermined by want and
neglect, and depraved by miserable, if not
evil associations. It filled the kind heart
of Chadburn with a divine pity. It
touched the chord of fatherhood.
‘“You don’t live here all alone?’’he asked,
as they walked toward the cabin.
‘‘Oh yes, I do now, since Mag and Lil
cleared out.”
‘“They have cleared out, have they, and
left the cabin to you.”
‘“Yes—had to. Didn’t have no kind o’
luck. Mag she took the newmony, and lit
out for Gunnison as soon as she got well—
wasn’t washin’ enough here to pay her any-
way—and Lil she said it was lonesome
enough here to kill a dawg, with Mag gone,
and she couldn’t stand it."’
‘‘And they left you here all alone?”
‘‘No, not all alone; you know I've gut
Tige.”
‘‘But, don't you get lonesome?’’
‘‘Ho! no! Tige’s lots o’ company—ain’t
you, Tige? Smartest dawg that ever was—
ain’t you Tige? Knows every word you
say to him—don’t you Tige?’’ Ought to
see him fight! Can shake the everlastin’
stuffin’ out of anything in the gulch—can’t
you, Tige?’*
‘‘But how do you manage to live?’
‘Oh, I get along. Lil, she gives me lots
o’ things. She’s awful good, poor Lil is.
And the boys they give me a good deal.
They’re awful good to.”
The cheerful and unconscious courage of
the little girl, and her gratitude for the
evidently precarious and insufficient bene-
factions which enabled her to live—doubt-
less often hungry and certainly often cold,
but still nobody’s drudge and always free
—strack Chadburn as really more pathetic
in a child than tears would have been. He
perfectly understood that by ‘‘the boys’
the untutored child referred to the miners
and other men of the camp.
“What will you do
comes?’
“On, I dun’no; maybe I’ll take -hoard-
ers.”’
‘“Take boarders!
to cook, do you?”’
‘You bet I ken cook. Mag learnt me a
lot about cookin’. I ken cook most as
good as Mag ken.”
““Then perhaps I can get supper with
you?”’
“*Oh, I wisht I could get supper for you;
but me and Tige had company to-day, and
we et everything up—’cept the ’taters.”
‘Oh, you had a party, did you?”’
‘Yes,’ she said, pushing the door open;
‘‘them youngsters. Oh, we’ve had a lovely
time, and Tige he most tore the clothes
off’n one o’ the hoys—did’nt yom, Tige?
But he was on’y playin’—wasn’t you
Tige?”’
The dog, whose natural intelligence had
been sharpened by his intimate companion-
ship with the lonely child, hearing himself
addressed, stood off a couple of yards, with
his heavy and powerful fore shoulders
squared, blinking the raw red lids of his
bright eyes, and tilting his head continuale
ly as he watched the facial expressions of
the girl, evidently translating it into some-
thing he understood better than human
words.
‘‘But perhaps you could get me a cup of
hot coffee?’’ suggested Chadburn who was
anxious to give the little waif some
money.
“‘Can’t. We et all the supper up. If I
thought Lil had any money, I'd go up to
the store and buy some things an’ get sup-
per for you,”’ she said, reflectively, and
then added: ‘‘But I know she a'n’t. Lil
don’t get much money.”’
Is this Lil your mother?”’
‘‘N-naw!”’ answered the child, with a
scorn of the possibility.
‘Nor this other woman-—Mag, as you
call her!”
‘“‘Ho!no! Mag is Irish. I a'n’t Irish.
I’m French. Lil says I am a creole. My
mother’s dead. She give me to Lil when
she’s dyin’. I was a little weenty
girl.”
“Where is you father—dead too?’ A
purpose had begun to form vaguely in
Chadburn’s mind, which made him anxious
in the matter of this last inquiry.
“Ho, I dunno! Somewheres, I guess.
Mayhe he’s dead too. Lil says she more’n
half believes he must be. She says he
a’n’t nothin‘ but a low-down ornery tin
horn any how ’coz he never treated my ma
right. Ma was a lady. Lil says so.”
*“Where is this Lil now, and why don’t
you stay with her?”’
‘Stay with her? Why, Lil’s took up
with the barber, and she plays the peean-
ner at the gamblin’-house nights. Mag’d
just slap the jaws off’'n me if she ketched
me stayin’ up there with Lil. Mag and
me’s goin’ to open boardin’-house soon’s
she get’s money ’nough.’’
Chadburn let her run ou. He was in-
terested in every word she uttered now,
because every word reflected some light
upon her nature or revealed something of
the influences that had formed her-present
character. There was a pathos to him in
every vulgar phrase she uttered, because
each affected him as a separate misfortune
to a helpless child, the result of an asso-
ciation to which he felt sure he was not
born.
The child ran on: ‘‘After Mag left, Lil
couldn’t stand it here—said it was so
doggoned lonesome. Lil is a poor weak
pilgrim, as Mag used to say, an’ a’n’t got
a bit o’ backbone in her. - She can’t stand
the lonesomes. But I guess she’s kinder
lonesome up there too. Cried like every-
thing, she did, yesterd’ay, when she was
down here to see me. She’s jest awful
good, though, Lil is. Bought me two
pound o’ sugar yester’d, an’ a bag full o’
cakes. Lil a'n’t a bit stingy. Goin’ to
get me a nice new dress next week, when
she draws her pay. But I don’t believe
Lil gets much money, poor thing! A’n’t
got so very much clothes herself.’
‘Oh, I believe I’ve forgotten to ask youn
what your name is,’”’ said Chadbhurn.
“Why, Flopsy, of course! hut ta’n’t
really Flopsy, you know, its Florence. My
whole name is Florence Gordonier, and I
can write it with a pen.”’
“What is that thing in the
bowl?”
“That?”’ said the child, darting forward
and snatching up the doll. “Oh, that’s
Flipsy! Tige most tore the leg off’'n her
to-day. Tige, I'll kich the stuffin’ out o’
you for that!’
She sprang upon the hapless pup like a
fury, but divining his danger, he scurried
under the lounge for refuge.
“I guess your doll’s done for,’”’ said
Chadburn.
‘‘Sh—sh-—sh!”’ said the wild child. “I
don’t want her to know she’s a doll. Yes,
I guess poor Flipsy’s goose is cooked. She
was going to be married, too, soon’s I got
money to buy her a new dress, if Tige
hadn’t gone and bit herall to pieces; but I
lammed him good for it you bet!”
“Why did you put her in there?”
‘Why, so she could lick the sugar-bowl
and wouldn’t ery.”’
This fantastic conceit made Chadburn
laugh, though tears were in his eyes. The
pathos of a child’s hungry emotions pushed
to the extremity of nourishing the heart
upon such a make believe filled him with
compassion, and he drew the girl’s slender,
ragged figure within the circle of his arm
and kissed her dirty face. His mind was
nearly made up. :
‘See here,”’ he said, trying to speak
cheerfully, though his voice was husky;
‘‘what are you goin to do for supper your-
self?”
“Oh, I’ve got ’taters.”’
‘‘And wood and light.
out.”
*‘Oh, I must hurry and rustle up some
wood before dark. That’s all the light
Tigeand me wants when I throw the wood
on after dark and make the fire blaze. I
go to bed purty early when I a’n’t got
wood; but when I’ve got lots I make it
blaze up, and then Tige and me sits down
by the fire, and I tell stor’es to Tige about
bears and rabbits. Oh, Tige and me most
ketched a rabbit one day!”’
“See here,” said Chadburn, putting a
silver dollar on the table: “I'd like to
to come back and have supper
with you and Tige. I'm going up to Mec-
Gruder’s now; but perhaps Mrs. McGrud-
er will not ask me to supper, and if she
doesn’t, I'll come back here. In fact, I'll
come back here anyhow. I want to hear
some of those stories you tell Tige.”’
‘“The child was wild with delight. ‘‘Oh,
Tige!’’ she exclaimed: ‘‘a dollar! We’ll
make b’lieve it’s a party. Would you care
if we do?’
Chadburn assured her he regarded the
festal idea as an inspiration.
“Now get some—let me see—some eggs
to boil; a quart of new milk; a loaf of
bread; a whole lot of cakes—the kind you
like best; a little piece of cheese—not too
much cheese, you know; about a pound of
sugar, of course, if that’s what you like
best; half a pound of candy—"’
when winter
Then you know how
sugar-
The fire is most
“Candy? Oh, Tige, candy!
to be a real party!”
“Then say, some nuts or an apple a
piece for you and me, and last a bone from
the hutcher’s for Tige.”’
*‘Oh, Tige! on’y think!
wild!”
‘But look here; when everything is
ready, sit down and eat—you and Tige.
Don’t wait for me a minute. I may be
late, and I know you must be hungry.
Drink all the milk up, and eat some eggs
and bread, and all the cake you want, but
be sure and save a little of the candy for
me.”’ -
‘‘Oh yes, lots of it. But don’t be late,
will you? It won’tseem like a party with
on’y Tige and me. An’ I won’t give Tige
his bone till you come, so’s you ken see
how glad he’ll be.”’—PFitz James McCarthy
in Harper's Weekly,
( To be Continued Next Week.)
It’s goin’
He'll jes’ go
A Trip After Rare Cacti.
What a St. Louis Collector Says About the Yaqui In-
dians.
William W* Marshall, of St. Louis, has
just returned from that portion of Mexico
over which the Yaqui Indians, war painted
and ferocious, are now fighting. He went
on a search for rare and valuable cacti, of
which he is an ardent collector. Mr. Mar-
shall says: ‘ ‘I was laid up at Hotam with a
sprained ankle, for a month. Hotam is on
the Yaqui River about 75 miles from the
Yaqui Valley, the home of the Indians
who are creating the present disturbance.
They are remarkably fine specimens of hu-
manity and are quite superior to the Mexi-
cans. They work hard, fight well, are in-
telligent, brave and civilized.
‘‘To a man they are Catholics and most
devout.
“I doubt the veracity of the dispatches
which state that their uprising was brought
about by the influx of Americans into the
gold fields. The Americans have always
been received in a kindly manner hy the
Indians, who greatly, prefer them to the
Mexicans. Itis probablethat the same
cause that precipitated the other wars in
which the Yaquis engaged actuated them
to this—the gradual encroachment of the
Mexicans upon their rich lands and the
quiet dispossession of all their property that
is constantly going on.
‘On feast days the Yaquis hold pow-
wows. From 4000 to 6000 Indians come to
these ‘pow-wows,’ which happen five and
six times a year, and at the conclusion of
the feast hold councils and discuss subjects
of national interest, they being, to a cer-
tain extent, self-governing.
“It was at the last one of these, held just
before I left, that the present war was de-
termined upon. It will be waged to the
bitter end.
Agnostic Converted.
Publicly Burned the Finest Infidel Library in Ohio,
Attorney M. O. Waggoner, of Toledo, Recants and
Joined Church After Seventy-two Years of Unbelief
—Gramaphone Religious Services.
Attorney M. O. Waggoner, one of the
oldest, wealthiest and best educated citizen
of Toledo, Ohio, as well as one of the most
prominent agnostics in the United States,
has renounced infidelity entirely, and last
Wednesday evening, in front of the Ashland
Avenue United Brethren Church, made a
honfire of the finest agnostic library in
Ohio.
For 72 years M. O. Waggoner, although
born of pious parents, has been one of the
most profane scoffers who ever‘spoke against
the Almighty. He has united with the
church mentioned, and was taken in as a
full communicant. According to his own
statement, Waggoner had for some time
been struggling with the conviction that
his position on religion was not strong.
This conviction so preyed upon his mind
that he was on the verge of nervous pros-
tration.
At the hour of midnight, and all alone
in his room, he arranged a complete relig-
ious service for a gramaphone. The num-
bers which he placed in the machine con-
sisted of hymns, Scriptural readings, ete.,
among which were: ‘‘Praise God From
Whom All Blessings Flow,”’ the 23rd Psalm
and ‘‘Rock of Ages Cleft for Me.”’ ‘It was
during the production of the last named
hymn,’’ says Waggoner, ‘‘that light came
into my soul, and I felt the consciousness
that my sins bad been forgiven.’’
Robbers Use Chloroform.
Four Hundred Henhouses Visited "at Night by a
Band that has been Rendezvousing in Jersey
Pines.
A bold band of chicken thieves are
stealing poultry out of the Burlington,
Mercer and Ocean counties, N. J., by the
wagon load. The midnight work of the
gang has netted them upward of a thous-
and dollars, and so far their rendezvous has
not been located. It is somewhere in the
Jersey pines beyond Pemberton, from
which place the poultry is shipped to mar-
kets, being taken in boats on Rancocas
creek. The raids of the thieves have been
continued for more than a month, and four
hundred chicken coops in four counties
have been visited.
Iv is not known who are in the band,
but the township constables who are work-
ing on the case think that there are eight
or ten of them, and they operate in pairs,
going in different directions each night,
handling from six to ten farms in the
night. It is said that they fill the hen
coops with a preparation of ammonia
chloroform, so as to drug the chickens and
prevent them cackling and arousing the
inmates of the house.
After several sponges of this fluid are
thrown into the herhouse they can remove
the chickens with ease. Then they drive
to their cabin hidden away .in the pines,
and from there the poultry is shipped to a
confederate in Philadelphia, who finds a
ready market. The farmers are organizing
to run down the culprits.
How to Paper Whitewashed Wall.
It is difficult to get paper to stick to
walls that have been made smooth by fre-
quent whitewashing. The smooth finish
may be scraped off or the surface may be
changed with a coat of paste. If you de-
cide to use the paste, make it in the follow-
ing manner: Put one pint of flourin a
saucepan and beat into it one quart of cold
water. When smooth add two quarts of
boiling water, stirring all the time. Let
this boil up once, then strain and cool.
Brush this paste over the walls and allow
it to dry. When you are ready to paper
wet the walls, spread paste on the paper,
and hang it in the usual manner.
——Prosperity to be lasting should be
general. While certain industries and
branches of trade, in control of trusts, are
being boomed, that greatest of all indus-
tries, agriculture, is not benefited. The
farmer is called upon to pay more for all
he purchases, but receives no more for his
products now than he did a year ago.
—Westmoreland Democrat.
Takes Place of Wheat.
The Nut is Used Considerably by Foreigners as Food.
We have little idea in this country to
what a considerable extent the nut is used
for food in a few foreign lands. Our con-
suls have been sending information on this
subject from far and wide, and the facts
here given are condensed from a number
of these reports. We are trying to teach
foreign nations that Indian corn is an ex-
cellent article of food, but most of the
European peasantry still believe that maize
is fit only to fatten hogs and beef cattle.
Many of these same persons sit down to a
dish of steamed chestnuts with much re-
lish, and are content if they have nothing
else, which shows that tastes differ.’
Throughout France, from the Bay
of Biscay to Switzerland, there are
large plantations and almost forests of
chestnut trees. The nuts are very large,
resemble the American horse chestnuts,
and are extensively eaten by the peasantry
and animals. In the fall and winter the
poor often make two meals a day on chest-
nuts. They are steamed and eaten with
salt or milk, and physicians say they are
wholesome, hearty, nutritious and fatten-
ing. In some parts of France walnuts also
are a regular article of diet, but they are
losing ground as an article of food because
of their comparative scarcity. Walnuts
are also used to make oil, and the convicts
in some prisons are employed cracking the
nuts and picking out the kernels, from
which the oil is expressed.
Almonds grow well in the middle and
southern parts of France, and while the
shell is soft, green and tender, the nut is
sold largely as a table article. The meat
is white and creamy. Hazelnuts are al-
ways high priced and are a luxury. The
peanut is rarely eaten in France, though
the taste for it is growing. It is imported
in enormous quantity for its oil. A few
years ago there wasa good deal of talk
about the merits of bread made of peanut
flour, and it was thoroughly tested in the
German army, where for a little while it
was a part of the ration issued to a num-
ber of regiments. It was declared to be a
too highly concentrated and an irritating
sort of food, and the soldiers didn’t like it.
The use of peanut flour was accordingly
discontinued.
In Italy almonds are eaten while green
or soft as dessert by the well-to-do, but
the poor cannot afford them. Chestnuts
are the only nuts that enter into the regu-
lar diet of the people. Almonds, filberts
and walnuts are more of a luxury, and are
served as dessert or with wine at social
gatherings.
The chestnut almost takes the place in
Corea that the potato occupies in the West-
ern world. It is used raw, boiled, roasted,
cooked with meat and in other ways. In
Syria nuts are not a part of the regular
diet, but enter into the composition of
some popular native dishes. ‘‘Nuts in this
country,’ writes our consul of Alex-
andretta,”” may be classed as a luxury, for
use as a dessert and for consumption by
the natives at night just before going to
hed.”’
Confederate Generals.
More Than Half the Lieutenant Generals Are Now
Dead.
Colonel Charles E. Jones, the historian
of Georgia, has prepared a list of the sur-
viving Confederate generals. The Con-
federacy had in all nineteen lieutenant gen-
erals, of whom seven still survive. Of the
eighty-one major generals sixteen are liv-
ing, and of the 365 brigadier generals nine-
ty-two. In other words, of the 437 general
officers to whom the Confederacy counfided
the leadership of its great armies, only 115
remain. Here is the list of the surviving
lieutenant generals, with their addresses:
James Longstreet, Washington, D. C.
Alexander P. Stewart, Chickamauga, Ga.
Stephen D. Lee, Columbus, Miss.
Simon B. Buckner, Glen Lily, Ky.
Wade Hampton, Columbia, S. C.
John B. Gordon, Atlanta, Ga.
Joseph Wheeler, Washington, D. C.
All of the surviving major generals live
far down in Dixie save three, who are in
Washington—Henry Heth, L. IL. Lomax
and Matthew C. Butler. Of the surviving
brigadier generals five live in Washington
-—Frank C. Armstrong, John B. Clark Jr.,
B. H. Robertson, James E. Slaughter and
Marcus J. Wright. Eight of the others
live in the North or the far West, but sev-
enty-nine are below the old Mason and
Dixon line. Three live in California and
three in New York city, one in St. Louis
and one in West Virginia.
The Yaqut Rebellion.
Indians Have Made Preparations for a Long and
Bloody War in Mexico.
A dispatch received at Austin, Tex., from
Terrazas, Chihuahua, Mexico, which is lo-
cated near the scene of the Yaqui uprising,
is to the effect that the Indians are arrang-
ing for a prolonged war. The dispatch
says:
“The Mexican government will need a
long time and a big force of troops to quell
the rebellion. The Yaquis are hetter pre-
pared now than ever before for a long and
bloody campaign. They are all well fixed
financially, nearly all of them having saved
the $200 per head which the Mexican gov-
ernment paid them when they signed the
treaty of peace two years ago. They have
been making money since then, too, and it
is known that they have been laying in a
big supply of arms and ammunition for
some time past.
“It has been common talk among the
American prospectors in the Yaqui valley
that the Indians were preparing for anoth-
er outbreak, but, as the braves had always
shown a friendly spirit coward the Ameri-
cans, it was thought they would not molest
them when they did go on the warpath.
They are determined to recover all of their
lost country, however, and will kill every-
body they find within the limits of their
old possessions.’’
Pianos and Literary Reform.
A funny story about Miss Marie Corelll
comes from Stratford-on-Avon, where that
mystic novelist has been living opposite a
young ladies’ school. It appears that in
this school are many pianos, daily practice
upon which by the pupils has been exces-
sively damaging to Miss Corelli’s nerves.
Driven to desperation, the New York 7'i-
bune says, she wrote to the principal of the
school, asking that when piano-forte prac-
tice was going forward the windows might
be kept closed, as the noise interferred with
the progress of literary composition. To
which the school mistress replied that if the
noise would prevent the composition of an-
other book like the ‘‘Sorrows of Satan’’ she
would order a half dozen more pianos.
——It is very few yearssince a creamery
was almost unknown as an industry. Now
there are over 900 of these butter factories
in Pennsylvania, or about one-fifth the
number in the United States. The total
product of the state’s creameries each year
is about 19,000,000 pounds of butter, while
77,000,000 pounds of it are made on farms.
Little Is Accomplished.
French Criticism of Campaign in the Philippines.—
American Troops Slow in Movement.
PARIS, Aug. 16.—The Paris edition of the
New York Herald publishes the follow-
ing:
M. Jean Hess, the well known French
explorer, who has visited the Philippines
for the Figaro, writes a long letter on the
present war, dated Hong Kong, June 20th,
which was published in the Figaro yester-
day morning.
M. Jean Hess considers that in the be-
ginning the Americans regarded the Philip-
pine campaign as a big ‘‘operation’’
worked by business men. It progressed at
first, and seemed likely to ‘‘pay,’”’ but,
while the power of the Spanish was proper-
ly estimated by the men ‘‘handling’’ the
“deal” they failed to estimate correctly
the Filipino’s aspirations and his power of
resistance.
To reduce him, says M. Jean Hess Amer-
ican gold does not suffice; American blood
is necessary. ‘‘A great deal even is re-
quired. M. de Bernard, our consul at
Manila, has noted the arrival of 42,000
soldiers. At the general staff of the army
I learn that at the present moment there
are not 30,000.’
COMPARISON DRAWN.
Continuing M. Hess draws a comparison
between the individual strength of the 40,-
000 American soldiers, their naval assist-
ance, their well fed condition, their supe-
rior arms, their means of procuring further
munitions of war, their possession of a base
of operations like Manila, with the 15,000
guns of the Filipinos, ‘‘men of an inferior
race,”’ reduced to making their own pow-
der by very primitive methods, and then
goes on to say:
“‘In this unequal struggle between the
iron kettle and the earthenware pot, after
four months of daily effort, what have the
Americans gained? What have they oc-
cupied?
‘On the north of Manila the railway, for
a distance of sixty kilometres, and the
course of the Rio Grande, for forty kilo-
metres. I have been to the extreme points
of San Fernando and have seen fighting
there. .
‘‘On the east of Manila, twenty kilo-
metres, as far as the water works, up a
navigable river.
‘On the south of Manila,four kilometres,
as far as Pasay, where I have seen the
American advance guard at a distance of
only 800 metres from that of the Filipi-
nos.
PENINSULA OF CAVITE OCCUPIED.
‘The peninsula of Cavite is occupied,
but four months of fighting and bombard-
ing Paranaque have not been able to estab-
lish for one single day land communica-
tions between Manila and Cavite.
‘‘Add to this, in the other islands, the
ports of Iloilo, Negros, Cebu and Jolo.
‘‘And that is all. It is not much. Col-
or that on a general map of the Philippines
and you will say that it is nothing.”’
M. Jean Hess is sceptical regarding the
the chances of the Americans possessing
much more in the near future, for, he says,
the more the Americans advance the great-
er will be the difficulties they will meet
with.
The French explorer mentions that he
passed three weeks in the Philippines, liv-
ing much with the Americans and more
with the Filipinos, seeing and listening.
Criticising the work of the American
troops in the field, M. Hess considers them
slow in movement. On the occasion of the
taking of Malolos, at the end of March,
while Geneial MacArthur was to make a
front attack hy way of the railway, another
brigade was to make forced marches by a
circuitous route to take Aguinaldo in the
rear.
DISTANCE OF FIFTY KILOMETRES.
This route meant marching a distance of
fifty kilometres. According to M. Hess,
French or Spanish troops would have done
it in two days. The American volunteers,
he says, took twenty days, after six en-
gagements, which could not count as bat-
tles, the brigade not having to repulse more
than 500 Filipinos.
When the brigade arrived at Malolos the
place had been captured eight days before
and the Filipinos had retreated without
hindrance and had reformed at. Calumpit.
Regarding the personal qualities of the
American soldier, M. Hess thinks he wants
too much comfort in campaigning and is
too liable to complain of the hardships he
may be called upon to endure.
He says the American army seems to be
composed of less soldiers than of advent-
urers, engaged at high wages, with permis-
sion to pillage. In this connection he
dares not publish all he was told and all
he observed. He says the people would
hardly believe him.
Regarding the Filipino, he says that the
idea of the independence is in the brain of
the race and will only be destroyed by
destroying the race.
Philippine Incidents Not Creditable to
Our Government.
Bombardment by Gunboat. Captain Otis, of the
Washington Regiment, Relieved of His Command
and Placed Under Arrest—An Appeal to the Powers
Made by Aguinaldo—Cable Sent by General Otis—
A Refusal from China.
MANILA, Aug. 10, via HoNG KONG, Aug.
16.—The gunboat Napidan last week shell-
ed Paete, on the lake, near Santa Cruz.
The town was full of people, who had been
encouraged to return after General Law-
ton’s expedition, having been assured that
they would not be molested if they peace-
ably attended to their own business. L.
L: Copp, who was in command of the Napi-
dan, heard that insurgents had reoccupied
the town, and, steaming close in, opened
fire with his six-pounders, without warn-
ing. The people, seeing the boat approach-
ing, tled to the hills in a terrified condition
and with barely time to escape. One child
was killed and bank buildings were dam-
aged, the authorities expressing regret on
account of the incident.
After the taking of Calamba by the
Americans, General Lawton ordered that
Captain Otis, of the Washington regiment,
be relieved of his command and placed un-
der arrest on account of slowness and seem-
ing reluctance of the company under his
command in obeying the order to disem-
bark from the canoes and wade through
the marsh under fire. The men say that a
majority of them have been sick and unfit
for duty and were given to understand that
they would not be asked to do any more
fighting.
AN APPEAL TO THE POWERS.
MANILA, Aug. 16.—4.50 p. m.—Aguin-
aldo has appealed to the powers for recogni-
tion of ‘‘Filipino independence’’ in a docu-
ment dated from Tariac, July 27th, and
signed by Buencamino. It has been re-
ceived by all the foreign consuls in Manila,
with the request that they forward it to
their respective governments.
—If you want fine work done of every
description the WATCHMAN is the place
to have it done.
v