Bemorraie chp
Bellefonte, Pa., Nov. 24. 1899.
DAYBREAK.
A wind came up out of the sea,
And said : “Oh, mists, make room for me!”
It hailed the ships, and cried : .*‘Sail on,
Ye mariners, the night is gone.”
And hurried landward far away,
Crying : “Awake! It is the day!”
It said unto the forest : “Shout!
Hang all your leafy banners out!”
1t touched the wood-bird’s folded wing,
And said : “0, bird, awake and sing!
And o'er the farms: “O chanticleer !
Your clarion blow ; the day is near!”
It whispered to the fields of corn:
“Bow down, and hail the coming morn.”
It shouted through the belfry tower:
“Awake, O bell ; proclaim the hour!
It crossed the chnrchyard with a sigh,
And said : “Not yet! in quiet lie.”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
MR. GROBY'S SLIPPERY GIFT,
Two men could hardly have been more
unlike than Jim and Joe Mordaunt, and
when it is considered that they were broth-
ers brought up under the same conditions
and trained by the same hand, the dissim-
ilarity seems nothing less than remarkable.
Jim was the older, and a better, steadier-
going hand Stuart Mordaunt did not own
upon the place, while a lazier, more unre-
liable scamp than Joe could not have been
found within a radius of fifty miles.
The former was the leader in all good
works, while the latter was at the head of
every bit of deviltry that harassed the
plantation. Every one recognized the dif-
ference between these two, and they them-
selves did not ignore it.
“Jim, he’s de ’ligious pa’t o’ de fam-
bly,’’ Joe used to say,’”’ an’ I’s most o’ de
res’ 0’ it.”? He looked upon his brother
with a sort of patronizing condescension,
as if his own wickedness in some manner
dignified him ; but nevertheless, the two
were bound together by a rough but strong
affection. The wicked one had almost
whipped a fellow-servant to death for say-
ing that his brother couldn’t out-pray the
preacher. They were both field hands, and
while Jim went his way and did his work
rejoicing, Joe was the bane of the overseer’s
life. He would seize every possible chance
of shirking, and it was his standing boast
that he worked less and ate more than
any other man on the place.
It was especially irritating to his master,
because he was a fine-appearing fellow,
with arms like steel bars, and the strength
of a giant. It was this strength and a cer-
tain reckless spirit about him that kept the
overseer from laying the lash to his back.
It was better to let Joe shirk than to make
him desperate, thought Mr. Groby. In
his employer’s dilemma, however, he sug-
gested starvation as a very salutary meas-
ure, but was met with such an angry re-
sponse that he immediately apologized.
Stuart Mordaunt, while rejecting his em-
ployee’s methods, yet looked to him to
work an amendment in Joe's career.
‘“‘For,”’ said be, ‘‘that rascal will corrupt
the whole plantation. Joe literally carries
out the idea that he doesn’t have to work,
and is there a servant on the place who
will work if he thinks he doesn’t have
to?”
“Yes, one—Joe’s brother Jim,”’ said the
overseer, grinning. ‘‘He’s what a nigger
ought to be—as steady and as tireless as an
ox."
“It’s a wonder that brother of his hasn’t
corrupted him.”’
“Jim ain’t got sense enough to be cor-
rupted as long as he gets his feed.”
“Maybe he’s got too much sense,’’ re-
turned the master coldly. ‘‘But do you
think that Joe really has notions?”
“Notions of freedom? No. He's like a
balky horse. He'll stand in his tracks un-
til you beat the life out of him, but he
isn’t the kind torunaway. It would take
too much exertion.”
“I wish to Heaven he would run off !’’
said Mordaunt impatiently. “It would
save me a deal of trouble. I don’t want to
deal harshly with him, but neither do I
want the whole plantation stirred up.”’
“Why don’t you sell him ?”
*_%
*
Stuart Mordaunt’s eyes flashed up at the
overseer as he said: ‘I haven’t got
down to selling my niggers down the river
et.”
“Needn’t sell him down the river.
him—"’
“I’m no nigger-trader,”’ the gentleman
broke in.
‘Listen to me,” said Mr. Groby insinu-
atingly. ‘‘My wile wants a good servant
up at our house, and I'd be willing to take
Joe oft of your hands. I think I could
manage him.”” He looked for the moment
as if he might manage the slave to the poor
fellow’s sorrow.
“But would you keep him right about
here so that I could look after him if he
got into trouble ?’’
“Certainly,” said Mr. Groby, jingling
the coins in his pocket.
“Then I’ll give him to you,’’ said Mor-
daunt coldly.
“I don’t ask that ; I
“I do not sell, I believe I told you. I’ll
give him to you.”
The overseer laughed quietly when his
employer was gone. ‘‘Oh, yes,” he said to
himself. ‘I think I can manage Joe when
he’s mine.’
“I don’t believe I ought to have done
that,”’ mused the master as he went his
way.
Joe did not know what happened until
the papers transferring him were made out
and Groby came and read them to him.
“You see, Joe,” he said, you're mine.
I've wanted you for a long time. I’ve al-
ways thought that if you belonged to me I
could make a good hand out of you. You
see, Joe, I’ve got no sentiments. Of course
you don’t know what sentiments are, hut
you’ll understand later. I feel like I can
increase your worth tothe world,”” and Mr.
Groby rubbed his hands and smiled.
w
Sell
2”
The black man said nothing, but at
night, humble and pleading, he went to see
his old master. When Stuart Mordaunt
saw him coming he did not feel altogether
easy in his mind, but he tried to comfort
himself by affecting to believe that Joe
would be pleased.
“Well, Joe,’’ he said, ‘‘I suppose you’ll
be glad to get away from the field ?’’
“Glad to git away—oh, mistah!”’ He
suddenly knelt and threw his arms about
his master’s knees. ‘‘Oh, Mas’ Stua’t,”’
he cried, ‘‘don’ gi’ me to dat Mistah Gro-
by ; don’ doit! I want to wo'k fu’ you
all de days o’ my life. Don’ gi’ me to dat
man !”’
“Why, Joe, you never have been anxious
before to work for me.”’
‘Mas’ Stua’t, I knows I ain’t been doin’
right. I ain’t been wo’kin,” but I will
wok. I'll dig my fingahs to de bone;
but don’ gi’ me to dat man.”’
“But, Joe, you don’t understand.
You’ll have a good home, easier work, and
more time to yourself—almost the same as
if you were up to the big house.
*
This was every field-hand’s ambition,
and Stuart Mordaunt thought that his ar-
gument would silence the refractory serv-
ant, but Joe was not to be silenced. He
raised his head and his black face was
twitching with emotion. “I'd ravver be
yo’ fiel-han’ dan dat man Groby’s mas-
tah.”
Mordaunt was touched, but his deter-
mination was not altered. ‘‘But he’ll be
good to you, don’t yon know that ?’’
“Good to me, good to me! Mas’ Stua’t,
you don’t know dat man !”’
The master turned away. He had a cer-
tain discipline to keep on his place, and he
knew it. ‘‘Perhaps I don’t know him,”
he said, ‘but what I don’t see with my
own eyes I can’t spy out with the eyes of
my servants. Joe, you may go. I have
given my word, and I could not go back
even if I would. Be a good boy and you’ll
get along all right. Come to see me
often.”
The black man seized his master’s hand
and pressed it. Great fellow as he was,
when he left he was sobbing like a child.
He was to stay in the quarters that night
and the next morning leave the fields and
enter the service of Mss. Groby.
*
It was a sad time for him. As he sat by
the hearth, his face bowed in his hands,
Jim reached over and slapped him on the
the head. It was as near to an expression
of affection and sympathy as he could
come. But his brother looked up with the
tears shining in his eyes, and Jim, taking
his pipe from his mouth, passed it over in
silence, and they sat brooding until Mely
took a piece of ‘‘middlin’ ’’ off the coal for
brother Joe.
When she had gone to bed the two men
talked long, but it was not until she was
snoring contentedly and the dogs were
howling in the yard and the moon had
gone down behind the trees that Mr.
Groby’s acquisition slipped out of the cabin
and away to the woods, bearing with him
his brother’s blessing and breakfast.
It was near eleven o’clock the next morn-
ing when the overseer came to the big
house, fuming and waving his papers in
his hands. He was looking for his slave.
But the big house did not know where he
was any more than did the quarters, and
he went away disappointed and furious.
Joe had rebelled. He had called the
dark night to his aid and it had swallowed
him up. >
Against Mordaunt’s remonstrances, the
new-made master insisted upon putting the
hounds on the negro’s track; but they
came back baffled. Joe knew Mr. Groby’s
methods and had prepared for them.
“It was a slippery gift you gave me, Mr.
Mordaunt,’’ said the overseer on the third
day after Joe’s escape.
‘‘Even a slippery gift shouldn’t get out
of rough hands, Groby,’ answered Mor-
daunt, “and from what I hear your bands
are rough enough.”
“And they’d be rougher now if I had
that black whelp here.”’
“I’m glad Joe's gone,”” mused Stuart
Mordaunt as he looked at the overseer’s re-
treating ficure. ‘He was lazy and devil-
ish, but Groby—"’
*,
It was just after that that the plantation
exhorter reported the backsliding of Jim.
His first fall from grace consisted in his
going to a dance. This was bad enough,
but what was worse, although the festivi-
ties closed at midnight, Jim—and his wife
Mely told it, too—did not reach his cabin
until nearly daylight. Of course she was
uneasy about it. That was quite natural.
There were so many dashing girls on the
plantations, within a radius of ten or
twelve miles, that no woman’s husband
was safe. So she went to the minister
about it, as women will about their trou-
bles, and the minister went to his master.
“Let him alone,” said Stuart Mordaunt.
‘‘His brother’s absence has upset him, but
Jim’ll come round all right.”
‘‘But, mastah,’’ said old Parker, push-
ing back his bone-bowed spectacles, ‘‘dat
uz mighty late fu’ Jim to be gittin' in—
nigh daylight—ez stiddy a man ez he is.
Don’t you reckon dey’s a ’ooman in it?”
*
“Look here, Parker,”’ said his master ;
“‘aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Have
you ever known Jim to go with any other
woman than Mely? If you preachers
weren’t such rascals yourselves and mar-
ried less frequently you wouldn’t be so
ready to suspect other men.’’
‘Ahem I’? coughed Parker. “Well,
Mas’ Stua’t, ef you gwineter question in-
ter de p’ogatives o’ de ministery, I’d bet-
tah be gwine,case you on dang’ous groun’,’”
and he went his way.
But even an indulgent master’s patience
must wear out when a usually goed serv-
ant lapses into unusually bad habits. Jim
was often absent from the plantation now
and things began to disappear ; chickens,
ducks, geese, and even Jim’s own family
bacon, and now and then a shoat of the
master’s found its way off the place.
*
The thefts could be traced to but one
source. Mely didn’t mind the shoats, nor
the ducks nor the geese nor the chickens—
they were her master’s, and he could afford
to lose them—but that her husband should
steal hers and the children’s food—it was
unspeakable. She caught him red-handed
once, stealing away with a side of bacon,
and she up-braided him loud and long.
‘Oh, you low-down scoun’el’’ she
screamed, ‘‘stealin’ de braid outen you’
chilluns moufs fu’ seme othah ’ooman !”’
Jim, a man of few words, stood silent
and abashed, and his very silence drove
her to desperation. She went to her master,
and the next day the culprit was called
Ry im,’’ said Mordaunt ; ‘I want to be
as easy with you as I can. You've always
been a good servant, and I believe that it’s
your brother’s doings that have got you off
the handle. But I've borne with you week
after week, and I can’t stand it any longer.
So mark my words : if I bear another com-
plaint I’ll have you skinned ; do you hear
me?’
Ves, sub.”
That night Jim stole a ham from the
kitchen before Doshy’s very eyes. When
they told the master in the morning he
was furious. Heordered the thief brought
before him, and two whippers with stout
corded lashes in their hands stood over the
black man’s neck.
‘“What’s the matter with you, anyhow ?”’
roared Mordaunt. ‘‘Are you bound to
defy me ?’’
Jim did not answer.
“Who is this woman you're stealing
for 2?
“Ain’t stealin’ fu’ no ’ooman.”’
“Don’t lie to me. Will you tell ?”’
Silence.
“Do you hear me? Lay it on him! I’ll
see whether he’ll talk !”’
*
Peo 5
The lashes rose in the air and whizzed
down. They rose again, but stopped
poised as a gaunt figure coming from no-
where, it seemed, stalked up and pushed
the whippers aside.
“Give it to me,’’ said Joe, taking off his
coat. ‘‘I told him jes’ how it would be,
an’ I was comin’ in to gi’ myse’f up any-
how. He done it all to keep me fom
sta’vin’ ; but I’s done hidin’ now. I’ll be
dat Groby’s slave ravver dan let him tek
my blows.”” He ceased speaking and slip-
ped out of his ragged shirt. ‘‘Tain’t no
use Jim,’”’ he added, you’s done all you
could.”
“Dah, now, Joe,” said his brother in
disgust, ‘‘you’s done come yeah an’ sp’iled
evathing; you mnevah did know yo’
place.”’
“Whup away,’’ said Joe.
But the master’s hand went up.
“Joe!” he cried. ‘Jim, you—you’ve
been taking that food to him! Why
didn’t you tell me?” He kicked each one
of the whippers solemnly, then he kicked
Joe. ‘‘Get out of this,”’ he said. ‘You'll
be nobody’s but mine I'll buy you from
Groby, you low-down, no-account scoun-
drel,”” Then he turned and looked down on
Jim. “Oh, you fool nigger—God bless
you.”
When Mr. Groby heard of Joe’s return
he hastened up to the big house. He was
elated.
‘‘Ha,”’ he said, ‘‘my man has returned.”
Stuart Mordaunt looked unpleasant, then
he said : “Your man, Mr. Groby, as you
call him, has returned. He is here. But,
sir, your man has been redeemed by his
brother's suffering, and I intend—I intend
to buy Joe back. Please name your
price.’?
And Mr. Groby saw the look in the gen-
tleman’s eye and made it low.—Paul Law-
rence Dunbar in Saturday Evening Post.
Prepared in Time.
It is None Too Soon to Get Ready for Thanksgiving
Day.
By ‘‘taking time by the forelock™ one
may accomplish a great deal without be-
coming tired out, as is so often the case in
preparing for any special holiday or en-
tertainment. The tablecloths and napery
should now be overhauled and freshly
laundered if neccessary. If they have been
out of use since last year’s holidays they
will look all the better for a day’s bleach-
ing and fresh ironing.
Then the silver will be so tarnished that
a good cleaning is an absolute necessity.
For this purpose there is nothing better or
Jess expensive than the following mixture,
that can easily be made at home: Put
cne pound of whiting (that may be pur-
phased at a paint shop for six cents a
pound) into a kitchen bowl. Pour over it
one quart of boiling water and stand it
away until cool. Add to it one tablespoon-
ful of ammonia, two tablespoonsfuls of
olive oil and one tablespoonful of turpen-
tine. Stir before using, and apply it with
a soft cloth and polish with a soft chamois.
In putting the silver away, place a piece
of camphor in each package to prevent
tarnishing.
Next make out a list of the expected
guests, and follow this with the menu.
Carefully plan each dish and arrange a
scheme for the marketing. Now with the
menu in hand, and the number of guests
well in your mind, take out the necessary
china and glassware and see that each and
every piece is carefully washed, not ne-
glecting to look carefully at the lids of the
dishes.
When this has all been attended to, pre-
pare such dishes as may be safely kept for
a time before using.
A very delicious pepper hash may be
made by cutting a hard head of cabbage on
the slaw cutter, and placing it in a bowl.
Cut up fine, six peppers, using three of the
red and three of the green ones. Add these
to the cabbage and sprinkle over them a
scant handful of salt. Stand away for half
an hour, which may be occupied by bun-
dle of celery. When this is done, pour off
the water that has been drawn from the
cahbage and add the celery toit. Sprinkle
over the celery and cabbage two table-
spoonful of granulated sugar, one table-
spoonful of mustard seed, two tablespoon-
fuls of celery seed; mix all the ingredients
well together and put them into a stone
jar. Cover liberally with pure cider vine-
gar and stand away for a day or two, when
it may be used. This may be made now
and kept over until Thanksgiving day. A
pound cake may also be made now, instead
of waiting until the holiday draws nearer.
Necessity of Ventilation.
Pure Air is Valuable. Though it Costs Nothing.
The young should be trained in the im-
portance of ventilation, for this is one of
the most neglected requisites of good
health. It is estimated that 3,000 cubic
feet of pure air per hour is the need of each
individual. In the best hospitals 6,000
cubic feet is not considered too much. By
weight one-fifth of this is oxygen, the life
giving element. The same air rebreathed
four times will no longer sustain life. The
oxygen has been mostly absorbed, while
waste matter and carbonic acid gas, a
a deadly poison, have taken its place.
Were our rooms airtight we couldn’t
survive. The atmosphere penetrates every
crevice around doors and windows, thanks
to the law of equilibrium, and we are sav-
ed from death. But whenever we find
members of a family sallow, nerveless, hol-
low eyed, liable to take cold easily and
readily, subject to various disorders, we
may be certain of one or two things, either
the diet is faulty or they do not properly
ventilate their dwellings.
A celebrated French physician, finding
himself much depleted by hard work, did
a strange thing—for a Frenchman. He
dressed in flannel from head to foot, put
on a cardigan jacket, opened hoth his win-
dows in winter time, placed a screen be-
fore each and slept there, undismayed by
the coolness of the atmosphere. By habit-
uating oneself to sleeping with open win-
dows and having the head protected from
drafts the tendency to take cold will be
eventually overcome—that is, with a prop-
er amount and kind of food.
One must not think that this subject of
fresh airis too much insisted upon. If
cannot be. Nothingamong cultivated peo-
ple is so continuously disregarded. To
enter some elegant parlors is to breathe the
air of a charnel house. Theatres and
places of public resort are in this respect
filthy beyond description. After sitting
for two hours in a room moderately well
filled with people one is nerveless, dispirit-
ed, subject to headache and liable to take
cold. The department of public health
should strictly watch all places in which
audiences assemble, as often they hecome
places of contagion.—-St. Louis Republic.
Another Matter,
‘You told me your heart was mine,”
said Blower.
“I know,’”’ replied his heiress wife,
“but I said nothing about my pocket-
book.”’
In the Philippines.
Extracts from Letters by Lieutenant Walter B. Mc-
Caskey, of Lancaster, and Well Known at State
College, Where He Graduated in 1896, and Where
He was Employed Last Year.
The following extracts from letters of
Lieutenant Walter B. McCaskey, who join-
ed the 21st regiment in the Philippines
some months ago, give an account of the
trip across the Pacific on an army trans-
port, and something of life in the Philip-
pines. He is familiar with the sea, having
crossed the Atlantic several times, but this
is his first voyage on the Pacific ocean.
Lieut. McCaskey is one of the five lieu-
tenants apportioned to Pennsylvania in the
increase of the regular army. He stood at
the head of the list from this state and was
second on the list of the hundred or more
from the whole country, in the examina-
tion to which they were subjected before
receiving their commission. Everywhere
he has made a record atthe top, in the
gymnasium, foot ball, military tactics, sea-
manship, and school and college work gen-
erally; and we have no doubt that he will
prove a ‘duty man’’ as efficient in the
army as he has been elsewhere. He was
the second lieutenant of Captain Whitson’s
company in the Fourth Pennsylvania vol-
unteers, and saw active service with this
company in the Porto Rican campaign. He
graduated at State College in the class of
1896 and after receiving his appointment
last spring was married to Miss Edna Mec-
Clellan, of Beech Creek, who is also well
known in this county.
SAN FRANCISCO, June 23.-—On beard
United States transport ‘‘Sheridan.”
Breakfast at 7 o’clock and next meal near-
ly 12 hours later; hungry. Have a com-
pany of recruits, 107 men of the 18th in-
fantry, for the trip across the Pacific. Af-
ter waiting quite a while, we got off ona
tug boat to the transport dock about 2
o'clock. Another delay there, but finally
we got aboard ship. Two troops of the
4th cavalry first, my company next. They
are located on the fourth deck
down, all the way aft, on the port
side. The bunks are in tiers three high.
The framework of the bunks is iron pipe,
and the bunk itself is a canvas bottom
lashed to the iron pipe which forms the
sides. The ship is iron throughout, even
the deck below. Electric lighting through-
out, with hot and cold water spigots con-
veniently placed for washing purposes.
The mess seems to be a general one for the
men. Was put on guard as soon as I ar-
rived, as junior officer; am off duty mow
until 2 a. m. Was short only one oiler on
the stuff I had to turn over to the officer
who relieved me.
June 25.—The order of duty aboard ship
is as follows : 1st call for reveille 5:40 a.
m., breakfast 6:30, sick-call 7:15, inspec-
tion 10:00, dinner 12:00; 1st call for guard
mount 7:50 a. m., assembly gnard mount
8:00, adjutant’s call 8:10, sick call 4:00 p.
m., supper 5:00 p. m., inspection 6:30, call
to quarters 8:45, taps 9:00 p. m. The
Sheridan is a good ship, well adapted for
the carrying of troops. We have a run of
about 2,400 miles to Honolulu, about one-
third way to Manila. The weather has
been favorable, and we are making good
time on the voyage.
HoNoLuLyu, July 2.—Came ashore at 1
o'clock. Enclosed is a program of the
funeral procession of one of the royal fam-
ily, one of Queen Lil’s family, which I
saw. The funeral car was drawn by na-
tives, three or four hundred of them, and
just before and behind it they carried odd-
looking things made of feathers. There
were native women in the procession of all
shapes and sizes—Kanakas they are called;
also many Japanese women and Chinese.
They dress the children very gaudily here.
The Japanese women have shoes with
blocks of wood for soles. They wear a sort
of robe with a belt around it, and a big rag
in the belt in the middle of the back. It
looks like a bustle, but worn outside and
up too high.
July 3.—Went ashore at 11 o’clock. Got
a carriage and rode to Punch Bowl, the
crater of an extinet volcano. You can see
the outlines of the rim very plainly. The
view of the town from there is fine and,
with the sea for a background, it makes a
beautiful picture. Then we went to Wa-
kipi, the place where they bathe in the
ocean. Had a fine bath. They ride in on
the surf on boards and in canoes. Just get
in front of a wave, with a good start, and
it carries you in all the way to the beach.
The canoes have outriggers on them, with
a log attached, parallel to the canoe, which
helps to keep them straight. Two Kana-
kas and Dougherty and I had a canoe. One
of the natives steered. Yesterday two coal
barges were towed alongside and this morn-
ing a load of Kanakas came off to carry
coal aboard the ship. It sounded odd to
hear about 100 of them talking and chat-
tering at once in their unknown language.
It would do you good to see how our men
enjoy their swimming here. When ashore
we went to a precipice at the end of the
valley, where 100 years ago there was a big
fight among the natives. The victorious
party drove their enemies up this valley,
and, as there was no escape, it is said,drove
them right over this precipice.
July 4.—I went ashore with my mail,
and saw the Fourth of July parade. Some
of the Sixth United States artillery, some
of the Hawaiian National Guard. All
drills have been suspended to-day. An
Argentine Republic training ship came in-
to the harbor this morning. At noon the
union salute of forty-five guns was fired in
front of the castle.
July 6.—When the pilot left us outside
of Honolulu harbor this morning, he teok
our letters to mail. We were a little late
getting off as we had to wait for a Seattle
steamer just coming into the harbor. When
we passed the Argentine Republic training
ship their band played, and they dipped
the flag to us. An old chum of the school-
ship Saratoga, where we had many a good
time together, told me how he had been
caught coming back from shore the other
night. He swam off to the ship, climbed
up the anchor chain, and caught hold of a
rope he had left hanging over the side, so
that he could get aboard by it when he re-
turned. But some one had cast the line
adrift inboard, and when he caught hold of
it, it ran out, and he dropped into the wa-
ter about 25 feet with a great splash. When
the sentry above heard it, he yelled, ‘‘Man
overboard.”” The mate came running to
the for’e’s’le. In the meantime he had
climbed up again, and some one handed
him a rope, by which he got up, but the
mate caught him.
July 7.—We have been running steadily
all day, with a good breeze from hortheast,
the northeast trade wind. Turned out this
morning about 6:15. Went on deck, and
through the ‘‘setting-up exercise’’ for in-
fantry. Take exercise in the mornings
regularly, so as to be in good shape when
we get to Manila.
July 8.—Rained hard early this morn-
ing. After coffee, turned out, went on
deck and exercised, winding up with a few
back handsprings. After a bath and shave,
read ‘Firing Regulations for Small Arms’’
till breakfast time.
morning.
July 9.—Running along steadily all day,
distance 300 miles. It is now 3:30 p. m.,
here and 10:10 p. m. with you. To-mor-
row, after we pass the 180th meridian we
skip one day. To-morrow will be July
10th, and the day after to-morrow, July
12th.
July 12.—As you see, we have skipped
one day, and now instead of its being 3 a.
m., to-morrow morning with you, itis 3
a. m., this morning. We passed the 180th
meridian about noon.
About 4 o’clock this afternoon, there was
a waterspout formed off our starboard side.
It looked like a big spout from a low cloud
down to the water, had a whirling motion
and where it joined the surface of the sea,
scattered the water all about. It came
within perhaps a quarter of a mile of us,
and then broke. Before that, however our
course had been changed so as to avoid it,
for it would have done some damage had it
struck us. I wish you could have seen it.
They are rare in these waters. Think of
this: To-day is yesterday; and yesterday
the next day was day after to-morrow.
Solve that conundrum.
July 13.—The biggest run so far, 323
miles. Go on guard to-morrow as senior
officer. We are nine days from Manila.
July 14—This morning, went on guard
about 9 o’clock.
July 15.—It began to rain shortly before
midnight, and early this morning came
down in sheets. Several of the officers
took advantage of it to get a wash in fresh
water. They just got out and took the
rain water as it washed along the clean
decks.
July 16.—This morning at 10 o’clock,
temperature of water was 83 degrees and
air the same. We are to pass close to an
active volcano to-morrow night, and hope
it is in operation. Is stands out of the
water about 1,000 feet.
July 18.—Turned out at 3:30 this morn-
ing for the volcano. Could see the red
glow at the top, and also the smoke with
the aid of glasses. Watched it for an hour.
About 6 o’clock could see it plainly, and
the great cloud of smoke from the crater.
The ship is pitching some, as the wind has
raised quite a good swell.
July 23.—Sighted Luzon last night about
9 o'clock.
Same routine every
AT MANILA.
July 25.—We reached bere all O. K.,
and dropped anchor 12:10 p. m. yesterday.
Very hot. Sat around all afternoon yes-
terday and tried to keep cool. Several
boat loads of soldiers have already gone
ashore. Good sized steam tow boats come
out to the side of the ship, then the sol-
diers go down the gangway ladder and go
aboard, and when one is sufficiently load-
ed she steams ashore, and comes back for
another load. There iz some talk of the
recruits of the 18th and 23rd infantry stay-
ing aboard the Sheridan, which is to take
them to Ioilo and Cebu, in which case some
of the officers now aboard will go with
them. This seems to be a big city. Roofs
painted white, and town looks well from
where we anchored in the bay. The bay
is large, and when the wind blows it gets
quite rough. We are right off the mouth
of the Pasig river, about a mile from shore.
There is a light-house where the river runs
into the bay. Bacoor bay is off to the
southwest, and Cavite still farther south-
west. We passed the island of Corregidor
on our right as we came into the hay yes-
terday. Got a paper this morning telling
of the resignation of Secretary Alger and
the raising of more troops. Will send it to
you. It isa curio.
July 26.—I was relieved from duty on
the Sheridan this morning at 9 o’clock,and
came ashore, being ordered to report to the
21st regiment. Brewer and I go to same
regiment. Am writing this in his tent by
candle light.
ALVA, July 27.—Have just come over
here in a pouring rain. Got well soaked.
Had a good visit with Ed. over at his camp,
and expected to go to Morong, where my
company is, to-morrow. Received orders
this morning to report here for temporary
duty to Company M. Manila is a queer,
old looking place. Old walls overgrown
with moss. Chinese houses, and Chinamen
that carry stuff on their shoulders. They
are 1eally beasts of burden. The native
women. Filipinos, don’t wear much cloth-
ing. Barefooted, and partly bare-legged,
nothing on the head, neck or shoulders.
Some of them fair looking, a few fairly
pretty, but the most of them ugly enough.
Lots of children too, not burdened with
much clothing. These Chinese carriers
wear nothing except a pair of pantaloons,
rolled up as high as possible. Some of
them wear great straw hats that look like
inverted basins. Almost everybody that
can do so rides in small, two-wheeled hacks
with one little horse. There are four-
wheeled hacks also, drawn by two horses,
and carts with ‘‘water buffaloes’’ attached.
These are big, gray animals, shaped much
like oxen, with large, flat horns extending
in a curve (horizontally) over their backs.
Two of these buffalo teams, and six Chinese
coolies, are attached to each company of
soldiers. They do the heavy hauling, wa-
ter carrying, wood chopping, ete., for the
company, and act as litter-bearers when a
fight is in progress.
July 28.—After breakfast, I went on
guard as officer of the day. Went out to
see where the different posts were, and got
back about 9 o’clock. The whole country
is swampy. It is cut up into rectangular
areas by little embankments to hold wa-
ter, where the rice grows. These areas are
called ‘‘rice paddies,’’ and as they make
up the most of the landscape, it is nearly
all swamp. Just below the advanced post
is a well called the ‘‘Sacred Well,” at
which the Chinamen from this company
get water, and carry it to the company.
They have a piece of bamboo about six feet
long; this they carry across their shoulders,
with a bucket of water hanging on each
end. They drag wood back to camp, by
bamboo. Boring or cutting a hole in the
larger ends of the bamboo, and putting a
short, light piece through these holes in
two bamboo poles, they can drag two of
them, about 30 feet, long, back to camp.
They go out for wood and water always
under an armed guard. Iam ordered to
go into town to-morrow and draw clothing
for this battalion. They will} furnish me
with a horse to ride. This will give me a
chance to get more shoes. Wading aroun d
through these rice swamps require some
changes of shoes to keep dry.
CALAMEA, Aug. 5.— We dropped anchor
off Pasig, town, last night about 8:30, and
lay there until 5:30 this morning. Then
reached the lake about 6 a. m., making
Calamba about 10:30. Had a very inter-
esting ride up the river Pasig, which has a
swift current of 7 or 8 miles per hour. A
passenger offered me a box of sardines and
a roll last night, which I accepted, as I
could not buy anything where we stopped;
then did not eat anything until supper to-
night, which, you bet, I enjoyed. Lieut.
Meade is in command of this company.
There has been some firing this afternoon
at long range. In case of an attack I'm to
have the left platoon, on the river bank in
trenches. Undergrowth dense. No tents.
Camped in ditch, with shelter of bamboo
mat.
"Aug. 6.—Slept with clothes on last night
in a little ‘‘lean-to,”” floor about 6:8, dis-
tance between roof and floor 2 feet on one
side 1} feet on the other. When it rains,
drop a bamboo mat down in front. It is
down in the ditch with the others, and
nothing shows above the level of the
ground. The platoon of which I have
charge is out about 100 rods to the north-
west, in a trench just this side of the river.
The insurgents are some little distance
back on the other side of the river. The
ground between is densely covered with
sugar cane, banana trees, underbrush, ete.
There is a bridge westward of this camp,
which is barricaded, and an outpost is sta-
tioned there. The river runs through
quite a gorge. The other day this company
drove the insurgents across the river.
Meade tells me they charged for several
hundred yards, half each time, and the
other half firing volleys, and got up this
far. There has been firing during the day
and night at intervals. Heard a bugle of
the insurgents a while ago. The mosquitoes
and bugs are fierce here. They make a
noise like flies or bees. It rained last
night. Used poncho for a cover. The
Pasig river is very swift all the way up,
about 14 miles. We passed many of the
natives’ canoes and cascoes going up and
down. They don’t wear many clothes.
One fellow that I saw was about naked.
Some of them wear great straw hats, like a
low, broad-based cone. They look odd.
The women wash clothes along the river
bank, beat them with clubs, and throw
them on a flat stone. Bathe themselves
too on the street corners, pouring water
over each other, with only a loose garment
like a sheet tied around them under the
arms, and reaching down to the knees.
HEARD FIRST BULLETS.
Aug. 9.—Yesterday at noon I heard the
first bullets whiz by. The insurgents be-
gan to fire on the lookout from a clump of
trees, seven hundred yards off. We gave
them several volleys and silenced them.
Days long and hot, nights ditto, flies in
daytime, mosquitoes at night, plenty of
them. There is an itch here thatis very
common, called ‘‘adobe itch.” I don’t
want it.
Aug. 10.-—Had just gone to sleep last
night when they began to fire. Got out to
the trench, and was there till things quiet-
ed down. We wear a kindof headgear of
mosquito netting, furnished by the quar-
termaster’s department.
Aug. 11.—Insurgents came in pretty
close last night. Some shots close enough.
They kept quiet until near morning, evi-
dently do this to annoy our men and make
them lose their sleep.
Aug. 22.—Chills and fever, and stomach
has not been working right for some days.
Rather weak, but getting better. Kept on
duty all the time. Heavy rains and awful
hot at times. Frequent firing,
Aug. 28.—There goes the band. They
practice every morning except Sunday, an
agreeable diversion. Now they are play-
ing ‘‘The Palms’’—good trombone solo.
They have quarters in what was formerly
the priest's house, adjoining the church.
There are several hells in the church tower,
one of which, deep toned, sounds well
when they ring it slowly.
Aug. 29.—Everything quiet. The sky
was very beautiful before sunrise,all shades
of crimson. For breakfast, pancakes, coffee
and bacon. You would laugh tosee the
pigs out here, the queerest looking things.
The full grown hogs have long straight
tails that they wag like a horse, and little
pigs are innumerable. Dogs are numer-
ous, too, but poor specimens of their kind.
Aug. 30.—Was in church and on the bell
tower yesterday. The place looks like a
jail outside, stone with iron roof, windows
barred, gallery at one end, pulpit about
the middle, altar at the other end, a few
benches in the middle, none anywhere
else, floor of large square bricks a very
small melodeon in gallery and a large
music rack, nothing else. The bell tower,
separate from the church, has three small
bells and one large one.
Aug. 31.—Passed a mud hole this morn-
ing where water buffaloes wallow. It is
liquid mud, but they enjoy rolling around
in it, as do the hogs, of course. Also look-
ed through an old ruined sugar mill. Quiet
here now. Fever lately; getting used to
the climate.
Sept. 4—Got order relieving me tem-
porarily from this company. Sent to Co.
I. Was ordered out on outpost to prevent
the insurgents from firing on outpost of Co.
D. Had but little fever yesterday; sweat
it out the night before, perhaps.
Sept. 16.—Everything quiet.
and aiming drill for recruits.
again these days. Lively work here aft
times. The tall rice gives them a chance
to get in closer without being seen. Our
sentries and outposts and everybody else
must be keenly alive when on duty to pre-
vent surprise. Corporal Harris just got a
fellow with a bolo in his hand, who had
sneaked on him through the rice, and was
about to drive the knife into his back.
Pointing
Feel good
A Girl Full of Needles.
Eighty-seven ordinary sewing needles
have been removed from the body of Han-
nah Reardon by Dr. Swithin Chandler.
The girl is employed asa housemaid by
Mrs. M. Mather, of Wilmington, Del.,
and her case is attracting the attention of
the local physicians, all of whom are tak-
ing a deep interest in the case. The girl
is about 19 years of age and weighs only
eighty pounds. She is four feet three
inches tall, and it is believed that the
needles, which she swallowed when a child
retarded her growth. She came from Ire-
land about two months ago. Dr. Chand-
ler says that hefore coming to this country,
owing to her delicate health, the young lady
had not done much work, and he thinks
that bending and stooping while at work
caused the needles to work to the surface
of the body. Since the discovery of the
strange condition Hannah has not been
able to retain solid food on her stomach.
The needles are, however, supposed to have
been in her body for years.
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Only 25¢ at F. Potts Green.
——To avoid a task and to fear it is to
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To Cure a Cold in One Day.
Take Laxative Bromo Quinine Tablets.
All druggists refund money if it fails to
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