another.
cowboy stood unhurt save for a red streak,
Bellefonte, Pa., January 31, 1902
IN OKLAHOMA.
There are several ways of seeing Oklaho-
ma. There is only one way of knowing the
Territory. ; :
The Congressman and the red-haired girl
proved that.
They traveled from New York to Blufi-
ville on the same car. He was looking for
wheat statistics. She was in search of new
experiences, and incidentally of a brother
who bad started a lumber yard in Blufi-
ville. :
Both travelers saw Oklahoma after a
fashion, hut only the red-hairéd girl learn-
ed to know it. “That was because the
Congressman, with masculine logic, con-
tended that the way to see a country was
to travel about it, while the girl, with
feminine intuition, divined that the real
way to accomplish the end was to sit on a
lumber pile and look at the country through
the eyes and the words of the men who
made it.
There were a few Eastern women in
Blufiville, but they were married, and sev-
eral years in the Territory had rubbed off
the old hall mark; so Wilson’s sister made
rather a sensation.
Billings, the saloon-keeper,
first.
‘Say, boys,’”’ he announced, ‘‘There’s a
red-headed girl sitting on a pile of two-by
fours up in Wilson’s lumber yard,and she’s
a peach.”’
The boys were doubters. They strolled,
singly and collectively, past the Jumber
yard, and Billing’s reputation for veracity
soared ahove par.
Dawson wasn’t contented with walking
in the yard. He lighte. a large cigar by
way of steadying his nerves, pulled his hat
further over his eyes and turned into Wil-
son’s office. A half hour later he was back
in the saloon.
‘‘She’s his sister, Miss Betty Wilson, from
New York, and she’s the real thing,” he
said, with a deep conviction. :
Meanwhile, the girl on the lumber pile
was feeling vaguely disappointed. She
looked off across the plain, whose monoto-
nous level was broken only by occasional
farm buildings, and she wondered how one
could live in a treeless country and not go
mad.
Then she turned and looked down the
wide, dusty main street of the town.
saw her
was flanked by rows of one-story woolen
buildings, and ended in an open square
surrounding a squat brick court-house, at
whose door two sickly poplars stood guard
like exiled and homesick grenadiers. From
the main street the town wandered off in
forlorn little shacks and tiny, neat, cigar-
box cottages. dotted indiseriminately along
broad, dirty roads that hore sounding ti-
tles.
It was all ugly. drearily ugly. The girl
had launched with one of her brother’s mar-
ried friends, and eaten chicken croguettes
and salted almonds in a four-room shack
whose good rugs and books and pictures and |
china seemed as much out of place as a faun
in a button factory. Betty wasn’t old
enough to see the dramatic interest of the
surf line where east broke against west,and
she went away from that luncheon exceed-
ing sorrowful. Salted almonds and em-
broidered doilies, and not a cowboy or an
Indian within sight. Was this what she
had gone out in the wilderness for to see?
The street in front of the lumber office
was lined with wagons and cow-ponies,and
crowds of roughly clad men thronged the
wooden sidewalks. On the opposite corner
a number of horse-traders were gathered
round a bunch of broncos, and teamsters
had balted their loaded wagons to talk with
the swaggering, lond-voiced group.
Suddenly something happened, and the
red-haired girl sat up. A long, lean man,
in riding clothes and sombrero, stood fac-
ing three burly, thick-set traders.
“Yon’ll swallow that or an ounce of
lead,” roared one of the trio, drawing a re-
volver.
The crowd surged back out of range.
‘You're a d——horse-thief, and I can
prove it,’’ said the man in front of the shin-
ing steel barrel. He moved quickly, as he
spoke, and a hullet buried itself in the
buildings behind him.
The three men lunged toward him, and
he backed up against a wagon full of cord-
wood. Something flashed in his hand.
There was a second shot, then another, and
Two men, lay in the street. The
" broadening on his cheek.
The third horse-trader brought his heavy
whip butt down viciously upon the cow-
boy’s right wrist and the revolver spun
across the road, but the disarmed man
reached for a stick of wood with his left
hand, and the lasi of his assailants went
down in a crumpled heap.
The crowd closed in. When it opened
out, two men were being loaded into an
empty wagon. Oue, supported by friends,
was limping toward the drugstore, and the
cowhoy, followed by an admiring throng,
was slouching carelessly into the nearest
saloon.
A loose-jointed, keen-eyed man dropped
down upon the lumber pile beside the red-
haired girl.
‘Pretty scrap, wasn’t it 9"? he drawled,
as he lighted his pipe. The giil recogniz-
ed the sheriff, to whom she had been in-
troduced, with due ceremony, earlier in
the day. :
‘*Aren’t you going to arrest anybody ?’’
she inquired breathlessly.
‘‘What'd I do that for?" asked the Maj-
esty of the Law, in mild surprise.
‘Do you allow fights like that on vour
town streets 2’ Tari
He shifted his pipe, and expectorated
cheerfully. ‘‘Why, Jim licked, didn’t
he?”
“The cowboy did."
““That’s Jim--and they were three to one
agin him, weren’t they ?”’
*‘Why, yes; but——-"" /
“Well, if they couldn’t take care of
themselves, they needed killing, and Jim
don’t seem to need me to take care of him.
Nobody’s badly hurt, anyhow, and I can’t
see as I’ve a call to jug anybody for that
row. It kind of settled itself.’
When the red-haired girl went to bed
that night she was distinctly cheerful, Af-
ter all, things did bappen in Oklahoma.
All sorts and conditions of men floated
in and out of Wilson’s lumber yard. Some
of them wanted lumber. Some liked Dick
Wilson, and showed it hy loafing in his of-
fice. After Dick’s sister arrived, they came
thicker and faster than ever.
She fraternized with them all, and held
court on a pile of joists which made a good
place from which to watch the street.
Every man within a radius of seventy-five
miles around Bluffville took his turn at
entertaining her, but the men who most
persistently acted as gnide, philosopher,and
friend, were the philosophical sheriff and
Tom Bailey, gambler, dead shot, and Har-
vard graduate, Some brothers would have
shied at Tom. Dick Wilson only grinned.
“T
|
It |
‘‘He’ll spoil your taste for Willy boys,
| Betty,”’ he said, ‘‘but he’ll not hurt you,
and he knows the Territory. Don’t hart
him.”
So the couple sat together under the
shade of the lumber shed very often, and
the gambler told the red-haired girl about
the people who passed, and about a good
many people who didn’t pass.
‘“That’s Slim Jim,” he said one day, as
he and Betty looked down the street from
their vantage point on the lumber pile.
“Did you ever meet him ?”’
‘No, but I’ve seen him fight.”
““That’s good. He’s a dabster at it isn’t
he? But eating is his long suit. He can
eat more than any man in the Strip, and
there isn’t a boarding-bouse keeper who
will board him at regular rates; but he
can’t get an extra ounce of flesh on those
bones.”’
‘‘He’s an old Texas man. He says he
can go broke anywhere with perfect impu-
nity. All he needs to do is to tell the first
man he meets a hard-luck story,and pump
up a cough. They put him up at a hotel
and take up a collection for him.”’
Just at this point in the conversation
the sheriff hove in sight and came across the
yard with his lazy, side-wheeler motion.
‘“Now wouldn’t you think that man was
slower than molasses in winter ?”’ asked
the gambler musingly. ‘‘He’s made out
of steel wire and raw hide. He's quicker
on the trigger than any man in the coun-
try. He has a mind that works like chain
lightning, and an iron nerve, and eyes in
the back of his head, but just look at
him.”’
The sheriff dropped in a disjointed heap
upon a friendly joist.
“I was telling Miss Wilson about Slim
Jim,’’ volunteered the gambler.
“Oh—uwell, it’s a long story. He's a
character, Slim Jim is. Don’t you get
stuck on him, though, Miss Wilson. He's
tarnation shapely, but he’s married. Did
Tom tell you about his marrying? No!
Well, that was the only time anybody got
the drop on Jim.
‘You see, it happened, just a little while
after the run for the Stri ,and Jim’s never
been sorry but once. That’s all the time.
She was a Yankee, and came down to visit
her sister. There wasn’t another pretty girl
within miles, and the boys went clean
daffyabout her. There were picket lines of
cow-ponies hitched to her brother-in-law’s
fence all day and every day.
‘‘The girl picked out two young fellows
who had good claims, side by side. They
| were hoth sooners.”’
| ‘“*What’s a sooner ?’’ asked the red-hair-
| ed girl.
| ‘‘Chap who gets in and stakes his claim
| before the Government signal is given. He
| has no legal right to his claim, and any
one who can prove him a sooner can turn
him out, and stake his claim. Well, for
a while this girl couldn’t decide which of
the two fellows she liked the better; but,
finally, she made up her mind. Both of the
duffers had told her their sooner stories.
She got the one she didn’t want to marry
to tell his story before witnesses. Then
she disproved his title, staked his claim,
and married the man next door. That was
Jim. They’ve got a nice half-section, but
Jim says that sometimes he feels as sick as
he looks, and that he wouldn’t advise any
man to marry a busicess woman. If he
were a woman he’d get a divorce, but a
man can’t very well do that, even in Okla-
homa.”
The girl looked thoughtful.
Divorces are easy, down here, aren’t
they ?’’ she asked. ‘‘I lunched with the
banker’s wife the other day, and she said
something about the time when she and
John were divorced. She didn’t seem sen-
sitive about the thing. but 1 didn’t like to
ask questions.”’
The gamblerand the sheriff hoth chuc-
kled. .
‘Why, bless your heart, she wonldn’t
have cared,’’ said the sheriff. ‘‘She and
her sister both got divorces, just hefore the
run. ou see a man and his wife can
stake only one claim. That's a quarter
section. Now those two couples wanted
two half-sections. So they got divorced,
made the run, staked four claims; and af-
ter the claims were proved, they married
again. Each family had a half -gection.
See 2?
The red-baired girl gasped. There was
a direct simplicity about Oklahoma meth-
ods that startled her.
“Did many women
weakly.
‘‘Droves of them.”’
‘Tell me about a run. What's it like 2’
The sheriff blew a cloud of smoke.
“What's it like Tom? You tell her,”
he said, turning to the other man.
The gambler crossed his knees and clasp-
ed them with his white, scholarly hands,
that gave the lie to his rough clothes and
hard face. ’
“Like ?’’ he said reflectively. It's like
a lunatic asylum on a spree. It's like a
circus chariot-race and a steeple-chase and
a county fair rolled into one. It's like
Judgment Day with very few sheep in the
deal. You get all sorts at a run, but three
fourths of them are has-beens. There are
men from all quartess of the earth, but
they’ve nearly all failed somewhere else
and are playing for new stakes. Then there
are the women who bave been drudging
for someone else, and are making a break
for homes of their own. Some men and
women are going into the thing, just for
fun. Oh, they are assorted qnalities, and
sizes, all right enough. There are lots of
fine men and splendid women in the gang,
but I’ve found that it’s a good rule not to
go into ancient history with Oklahoma
neighbors. Now I'm long on ancient his-
tory. My ancestors were great stuff, and I
lived np to them for a while. It was the
effort of doing it that brought on a moral
collapse and put me where I am.”
*‘Did you ever run ?’’ asked the girl.
The gambler flushed.
“Well, bardly. I'm a good shot.”’
‘‘But you can’t get a claim by shoot-
ing. Duda pr ,
Tom laughed.
“Oh, you mean was I ever in a run. Yes
I ran for the Strip. I didn’t want the land.
What would I do with it if I had it? Bat
I wanted experience. I got it. That run
was great. Just ahead of me, when we
broke away, was a fat old darkey on a
raw-boned mule. She had on a bright red
calico dress,and she was riding astride, lam-
ming the mule and yelling like a caliope.
The mule ran like a prairie fire, and was
still going when I dropped out. I didn’t
run far. The plunge at the start was what
I wanted. It was like going over Niagara.
It was the greatest mix-up I was ever in in
my life, and that’s saying a good deal. I
don’t know how my pony ever kept his
legs.”’
“You staked, didn’t you ?”’ drawled the
sheriff.
*‘Oh, yes, I staked; but a woman staked
the same quarter-section, and I didn’t care
anything about it, so T wouldn’t contest.
The woman was a dressmaker, and found
she was losing her eyesight; so she decided
to have a go at the Strip. We rode into
the filing station together, and I held her
place in line for her while she got a night's
run?’ she asked
ed
sleep. Ste hasa very decent little farm
now.”’
‘“Were all the men as nice to the women
as you were?'’ The red-haired girl's voice
was soft, and her eyes were approving. He
langhed.
“Well, no; I can’t say that the Sir Gala-
had act was popular. Still the men did
try not to interfere with the women if it
could be avoided.”
‘There were the Gateses,’”’” put in the
sheriff dryly.
Both men looked amused. The gambler
took out a fresh cigar.
*‘Tell her about them,’’ he suggested, as
he felt for a match.
‘‘Never met Mr. and Mrs. Gates, did
you ?”’ inquired the sheriff.
‘No, I think not,’’ said the girl, wrink-
ling her forehead in an effort to remember.
‘‘Well, your brother knows them. That
was a case,{where a man and woman con-
tested a claim, and no politeness about it
neither.”
“They both made the run. Mrs Gates
was Miss Johnson then, a crisp, pugnacious
Yankee schoolmarm. She staked her claim
Gates happened to take the same quarter-
section. That started the fight. Now when
a claim is contested, the claimant who has
put up a shack and broken ground first
stands the best show; so as soon as they
had filed, Gates and Miss Johnson went
tearing back to the claim to begin opera-
tions. She took a workman, and they
knocked up a shack at the southwest cor-
ner of the claim. Gates ran his up on the
northeast corner. He had to pass the other
shack on his way to town.
‘She had some horses and began plough-
ing. So did Gates. She hated him hke
poison. He made the air blue every time
he thought of her. The contest dragged a-
losg. Those things last forever down here.
Every day the two parties got more bitter.
There wasn’t anything too bad for one to
say about the other. When she got up in
the morning she looked at the smoke com-
ing out of his chimney, and talked to her-
self in a way that would have made her
Yankee ancestors shiver. While he ate
breakfast he looked across at her shack and
said things that weren’t fit for publication.
Hating each other was their chief occupa-
tion. Between times they ploughed.
*‘One morning Miss Johnson got up and
looked over at her enemy’s shack. There
wasn’t any smoke. The next morning the
same thing happened. She knew Gates
hadn’t gone away. because if he bad he'd
passed her place. The third morning came.
No smoke. Miss Johnson's curiosity fairly
sizzled. It was too much for her. She put
on her boots and went across to the ene-
my’s cam. There wasn’t any noise about
the place. She stooped at the door and lis-
tened. Not a sound. She tried the door-
knob. It turned, and the door opened.
She pushed the door open and went in.
There was only one room to the shack. On
the side of the room opposite the door was
a cot. On the cot was a man. He was
tossing and turning. His cheeks wascrim-
son. His eyes had a sort of vacant stare.
**Miss Johnson stood holding the door
and watched the man. He didn’t pay any
attention to her. By and by she went in
to the room, walked over to him, and felt
his head. He was burning up with fever,
and didn’t notice her at all. She looked
around the room. Everything was in an
awful mess.
‘She stood and bit her lip for a minute.
That’s a way she has. Then she came to a
conclusion and trotted over to her shack.
Pretty soon she hurried back with a medi-
cine chest, gave the sick man some medi-
cine, rolled up her sleeves, and waded into
that room. When it was tidy she put wet
cloths on Gates’ head, and gave him some
more medicine. Night came along,and she
rolled herself in a blanket and slept on the
floor. The next day she made gruel for the
sick man, and kept on with the medicine.
She kept that up for four days, going home
only long enough to tend to the horses and
cow.
“On the fifth day Gates opened his eyes,
and saw out of them. She was standing by
him, and when he saw her he swore feebly.
She set her lips.
** ‘You shan’t die on my land,’ she said.
‘It’s my land, and I'll dieon it if I
d——please,’ snarled Gates. Then he faint-
The woman won out. A man’s stubborn-
ness ain’t any match for a woman’s. Miss
Johnson wouldn’t let Gates die on her land.
He tried to assert his rights and do it, but
couldn’t. She nursed him back to life,but
they wouldn’t speak to each other. When
he was getting well, but couldn’t do any-
thing for himself, he used to watch herand
grin sometimes. Then he would scowl.
‘*At last he was able to get np. She went
home. That afternoon he walked in at her
door.
‘“ ‘I reckon you won't give up this
claim?” he said.
‘No. Will you?”
‘I'd see you in——first, but
marry me?’’ anaiptal
‘ ‘It’s a good deal the same thing for
me, ain’t it?’ asked Miss Johuson,
“Still she married him. That’s the way
that contest was squashed, and they're as
happy as turtle doves.”
“It’s a funny country,’’ mused the red-
haired girl.
‘It’s all that,”’ agreed the men.
A dilapidated cart, drawn by a phantom
horse, wandered down the street and stop-
ped in front of the lumber office. In it were
a dignified Indian,in gay raiment;ashrink-
ing, frightened-faced squaw, wrapped in a
blanket, and a scantily-clad Indian baby.
The old Indian climbed out of the wagon.
As he left, the pappoose wailed shrilly,and
the fond father cuffed it over the head.
Then he disappeared into the office.
“Old Lone Tree,”” explained the gam-
bler.
‘‘He’s the meanest Indian unhung. He'll
lie and steal and murder,and beat his wife,
and do it all with imperturbable dignity.
He’s a Government pet, and always comes
out on top. You can shoot a white man
down here, and not hear much about it;
but wipe one of those dirty, vicious In-
dians off the earth,and vou’ll set the whole
machinery of the Government working.
Don’t talk to me about the noble red
man.’’
‘Slim Jim gave Lone Tree that scar on
his cheek,’’ the sheriff added.
‘The tightest hole Jim was ever in w.s
three years ago, when six Indians held him
up fifteen miles out on the Creek road.
Even a drunken Injun ought to have
known better. Three braves were gather-
ed to their fathers, and three more were
laid up for weeks. There was a big fuss
about it, but it was finally decided that
Jim shot in self-defence.’’
The office door opened, Old Lone Tree
stalked into the yard and across to the
lumber pile where the red-haired girl sat.
He looked her over calmly, while she blush-
ed.
“How ?’? he grunted..
‘The two men nodded coolly. Lone Tree
sat down on the lumber and smoked his
pipe, looking superbly reserved and digni-
fied. He was spectacular, but a barrier to
will you
conversation. The Indians in Oklahoma
“That was the situation for two weeks. |
shake one’s faith in Longfellow and Coop-
er. They are dirty, ill-smelling, thieving,
brutal; yet with it all, they do, at times,
look the part.
Lone Tree finished his pipe in silence.
Then he made another exhaustive survey
of Wilson’s sister, and nodded. She wasn’t
sure whether the nod expressed approval,
but she offered him a smile at a venture.
He accepted it without any sign of appre-
ciation.
“‘Day,’’ he grunted solemnly, and went
away.
As he climbed into the wagon the pap-
poose once more gave a frightened cry. and
Lone Tree struck the little one a brutal
blow with his whip. The squaw moaned
like an animal in pain, gathered her baby
in her arms, and sat huddled in the bottom
of the wagon, while her lord and aster
statuesque, serene, drove away into the
sunset.
“Some day I shall kill an Indian,” said
Tom Bailey quietly. ‘'‘I feel it coming
on.”
The red-haired girl’s education went on
apace. One day she was invited to a meet-
ing of the Woman’s Club, and found it un-
commonly like Sorosis, though, sartorially,
not quite up to the standard of the mother
club.
A frightened little woman read a long
paper upcn Icelandic literature, spelling all
the names, because, as she explained, no
one could by any possibility pronounce
them. Then there was a discussion upon
corporal punishment for children, which
became so animated that only the strategic
genius of the president prevented its end-
ing fatally. Sandwiches and chocolate
smoothed the troubled waters, and Dick
Wilson’s sister escaped. It was depressing
to find that even Oklahoma could not far-
nish new color effects to woman’s clubdom.
At the lumber yard she found the sheriff
uous life. They moved along and
room for her on the lumber pile.
down and sighed for sheer satisfaction. Af-
ter that she asked a question that had heen
bothering her.
“Why Blaftville?
bluffs.’’
The three men looked lazily at each oth-
er. Each hoped one or the other wonld as-
sume the effort of explaining. The sheriff
finally came to the front.
“Didn’t you ever hear how the town
came to be here? We called the railioad’s
bluff. Some of the sooners staked it out
and nabbed town lots. The railroad com-
pany decided to locate its towa nine miles
east, and not stop here. Then there was a
fight. The trains had to be stopped here,
and the boys stopped thers. They tore up
track and broke up bridges. The railroad
company sent a posse down to guard things
Some of the hoys engaged the posse up at
the north bridge while the rest of the boys
blew up the south bridge. One night
they moved a house, and set it squarely on
the track. The engineer of the express
train didn’c see it until he was almost on
it; so he threw his throttle wide open and
ploughed right through the house. The
engine never left the track, but it looked
more or less like thirty centsafterward,and
the passengers were scared.
‘‘People wouldn’t ride on the trains, and
the trainmen wouldn’t run them, so the
railroad company had to give in. It ought
to have known better than to buck up
against a crowd of Oklahoma boomers.’
‘‘How long ago was all that?’
“Five years. We celebrated the town’s
fifth birthday last smmnmer,spent five thou-
sand dollars—everything wide open, fire-
works till you conldn’t rest, circus, baloon
ascension, show at the Opera House, four
deaths from pistol shots, scores of black
eyes, drunks in bunches of twenty-five. It
was a great occasion. Sorry you weren't
here.’
“Some day the bottom will fall out of
this boom, ’’ prophesied the gambler.
“That's right,” assented Dick. ‘‘We
draw from 75 miles east and 150 miles west
now, but a railroad will cut in somewhere,
and we’ll go out like a candle. It’s a great
town, now, though." :
“Good place for a man in my profes-
sion.’’ The gambler’s tone had a touch of
sell-disgust in it.
“Why, why, wh—"
| girl looked embarrssed.
“Why do I follow my profession ?’’ fin-
ished the gambler cheerfully. ‘‘Well,why
not. I'm on the square. My word’s my
bond, and the boys know it, It’s all a
gamble, in one way or another, and I’m
not sure but what the avowed gambler is
the only really honest man in the bunch.”’
The month’s visit came to an end one
October day. = The red-haired girl kissed
her brother tearfully, while all the bystand-
ers turned their backs and diligently stud-
ied the landscape.
Then she shook hands with a large and
varied assortment of men, among them Old
Lone Tree. who eyed her stolidly,and grunt.
ed ‘‘Day,’”’ but who bad ridden twenty
miles to make the eloquent remark.
Tom Bailey was the last man to step up.
His face wore the expression that he usual-
ly reserved for a raise on a pair of deuces.
A habit of bluffing calmly stands a man in
good stead on some occasions.
“You’ve been very good,’” said the red-
haired girl.
‘Yes, I’ve heen good.
make up for it.”’
There aren’t any
The red-haired
I'll probably
night he rode his pony fifty miles for no
apparent purpose.
On the train the red-haired girl met the
Congressman.
“I¢’s a wonderful country,’’ he said.
“It is,?? she agreed.
‘Such crops,’ mused the Cdngressman.
‘Such men. ’’ sighed the girl, She finds
New York slow.—By Eleanor Hoyt in
Everybody's Magazine.
Will Ask No Pension.
Close friends of Mrs. Benjamin Harrison
in Indianapolis state that she has requested
those who niave been supporting her claim
toa pension to abandon their efforts. A
bill granting her $5,000 a year was intio-
duced by Senator Fairbanks recently, but
if is probable now that it will be with-
drawn. Opposition to the grant, both
among members of Congress and relatives
of the late President, have induced Murs.
Harrison to ask that the project be drop-
ped.
Opponents to the pension contended that
Mrs. Harrison was not entitled to the
operation of the precedent by which widows
of Presidents have received government
assistance. She was married to General
Harrison after he had retired to private
life, and therefore was not the wife of a
President and is now only the widow of
au ex-President.
Furthermore, the Harrison family point-
ed out that the General made generous
provisions in his will for Mrs. Harrison
and their child, leaving to his widow an
income of $10,000 a year and a house free
of incumbrances.
——Subscribe for the WATCHMAN.
are picturesque, but not inspiring. They |
A Modern Romance.
Philippines Won His
Renounces
Claim to Crown. |
The Archduchess Elizabeth, in view of | How a Veteran of the
her marriage to Prince Otho von Windisch- | Bride.
Gratz, who is not of royal blood, on Wed- |
nesday took the oath renouncing all claims |
a well-to-do Woodhull farm lad, near Roch-
Bea a lier destendapts to the Ans. | ester, N. Y. kissed his sweetheart good-bye
The ceremony occurred at noon in the | 22d after exchanging promises to be true,
Privy council chamber of the palace, in the | ete wish his seging i Jor the P Bilippines
Dlseeice o He Ser, putlber Of staten- | wooderaft, was assigned to Sa be
men and the foreign diplomats, e arch- | i y
ditches took the pr ee el Yefore 4 | and was in fifty-two engagements and skir-
Less than three years ago Robert Mason,
Tom Bailey, and Dick loafing tranquilly. |
It was a relief after the glimpse of a stren- |
made |
She sat | emperor
ve | on condition that nothing definite should
' be decided until the archduchess attained
| her eighteenth birthday.
| September. and the wedding was fixed for
| the present month.
Not a muscle of his face stirred, but that
efucifis. { mishes while under Lawton’s command in
The emperor's gifts to the Archduchess
Elizabeth include securities valed at 320,-
000 pounds, ($1,600,000), a yearly allow-
ance of 50,000 pounds, ($250,000), jewelry
valued at 200,000 pounds ($1,000,000), a
gold dinner service and several residences.
Born September 1st, 1883, the Arch-
duchess Elizabeth Marie was but five years
cld when the tragic death of her father, the
Crown Prince Rudolph, occurred. She was
brought up by her mother, the widowed
Belgian Princess Stephanie, at the imperial
court, under the fostering care of the Em-
peror Francis Joseph and the Empress
Elizabeth.
The assassination of her grandmother by
means of a dastardly anarchist’s dagger at
Geneva, befell the royal family in 1898.
These circumstances bound together the
aged Kaiser and the child of his only son
in the closest affection, and after her moth-
er married a second time, two years ago,
hecoming the Countess Lonyay, the ties
between the two have, it is said, been
strengthened all the more by constant com-
panionship.
The Archduchess, before she came of age,
last year, had already made her choice of a
husband, and gained her grandfather’s con-
sent to her betrothal to Prince Otho von |
Windisch Gratz, for what is purely a love
match, Prince Otho, though belonging to
one of the most distinguished Austrian
noble houses, being only a cadet of a junior
branch and a sin:ple Uhlan lieutenant. The
gave his consent to the marriage
This was last
Under the pragmantic sanction, by vir-
tue of which, in 1723, the emperor Charles
VI, settled the crown on his daughter,
Maria Theresa, and her heirs, it became
the rule that the Austro-Hungarian throne
shall always descend to direct male heirs.
The Archduchess Elizabeth could not, con-
sequently, have succeeded in the sovereign-
ty of the Austro-Hungarian empire, nor
would she or her children have any claim
except through the absolute failure of male
heirs. The emperor has grandsons in the
direct line, his younges’ daughter, the
Archduchess Marie Valerie, who is married
to the Archduke Francis Salvator, of Tus-
cauy, being the mother of three sons, of
whom the eldest is the Archduke Francis
Charles, now nine years of age. On the
death of the Crown Prince Rudolph, how-
ever, the succession passed to the emperor's
brother, on whose death, in 1896, his elder
son, the Archduke Francis Ferdinand be-
came heir presumptive. ?
In the ordinary course of events the Arch-
duke Francis Ferdinand will become the
next Emperor of Austria, but when he
made his morgapatic marriage with the
Countess Chotek, in 1900, he renounced by
solemn oath any claim to the throne on the
part of his descendants by that marriage,
and in all human probability the crown
will descend to the Archduke Karl Franz
Joseph, now iourteen years old, and the
son of the emperor’s second nearest nephew
the Archduke Otho Francis.
Killed With a Sledge.
St. Louis Business Man Murdered in a Bathing House.
Robbery the Motive of the Crime—A Colored Man
Employed in the Establishment Under Arrest—
His Statement.
A. Dean Cooper, of St. Louis, treasurer
of the Graham Paper company, died as the
result of injuries sustained in a mysterious
manner while in the Vista Turkish bath
establishment at 3518 Franklin street
Thursday. William A. Strother, the col-
ored man in charge of the bath house, who
tells conflicfing stories about the affair, is
under arrest, and a diamond ring worth
$1,500 and a valuable pin belonging to Mr.
Cooper have heen recovered from their
hiding place in the cellar of the bath house.
Mr. Cooper's injury consisted of a frac-
tured skull. A sledge hammer, covered
with blood, was also found in the cellar
and taken possession of by the police.
Strother made a statement to the police
that about midnight a boy brought Mr.
Cooper a note, which he refused to answer.
The boy went away, and soon after a man
and two women entered. When he re-
turned from the cellar where he had gone
to fix the fires, Strother says he found
Cooper on the couch unconscious.
Doctors operated on Mr. Cooper and re-
moved pieces of bone that were pressing on
his brain, but the injured man died with-
out regaining consciousness.
Mr. Cooper was the owner of the bath
house where the assault was committed,
bat it was not managed in his name. Mr.
Cooper, who was interested in various lines
of business, was considered one of the
wealthiest men in St. Louis.
The Widows of Presidents.
The report made to the United States
Senate favoring a pension of $5,000 per
year to Mrs. McKinley, recites that Martha
Washingion was given the franking privi-
lege, while Louise C. Adams was accorded
the some right by an act of Congress. The
widow of William Henry Harrison receiv-
ed $25,000, less any amount that had al-
ready been paid on the salary of that year,
together with the franking privilege. Dolly
Madison was given the franking privilege,
and Mrs. Polk received a pension of $5,000
year. ' Mrs. Taylor was given the franking
privilege. Mrs. Taylor received a pension
of $5,000, while Mis. Lincoln gota pension
of equal amount, together with $25,000,
less the amount that bad been paid on that
year's salary of the President. She was
also given the franking privilege. Mrs.
Graut was given $5,000 annually and the
franking privilege. Mrs. Garfield received
$50,000, less the amount that had been
paid on that year’s salary of the President.
Special allowances of this kind also have
been made to some of the widows of the
Vice Presidents.
Husband 18, Wife 16.
Porter B. Moon, of Jersey Shore, aged 18
years, and Myrtle C. Austin, of Ebensburg,
aged 16, eloped to Corning a few days ago
and were married. The young lady while
visiting at the Crawford house, Jersey
Shore, met Moon, who is employed on the
New York Central railroad. Landlord
Letts, a cousin of the young lady, seeing
the attention she was receiving, thought
hest to send her home, but instead of going
to Ebensburg she accompanied, it is said,
her lover to Corning and the two were mar-
ried by the Rev. W. H. Reese.
| the islands. Owing to the uncertainty of
| his location it was a difficult matter to
| keep up his correspondence with home, and
{ during the last eighteen months letters al-
{ most ceased. During all this time Mason
never doubted his sweetheart’s promises,
and 1n every engagement carried her like-
ness over his heart.
Upon returning to Manila some months
ago Mason received word from a compan-
ion who enlisted with him that caused him
to apply for a discharge and hurry home as
fast as steam could carry him. Arriving
unannounced at Woodhull Saturday morn-
ing he heard for the first time that his
sweetheart, whe had promised to remain
true to him always, was to wed another
that night in the Methodist church at Al-
mond, her home.
Procuring a horse, he set out for that
place, and by hard riding through the
snowdrifts, managed to reach the church
door just as the ceremony started. He
waited until the bride and groom reach-
ed the altar, when forcing his way through
the loungers at the door, he stalked down
the aisle, his erect figure, bronze face and
worn, mud-bespattered uniform the centre
of all eyes.
Miss Shepard, the girl who had pledged
{ herself to him before he sailed to war,
| gave a startled ery and sank to the floor on
her knees. His rival, who had made such
successful love while he was facing the
bolos and spears of the bushmen, started
violently and had only partly 1ecovered
when Mason, pushing forward, whispered
a few words in the ear of the trembling
bride and ordered the would be groom to
leave the church. His refusal to do so
caused Mason to draw his heavy army re-
volver from its holster, and deliberately
cocking it hie gave the groom two minutes
by the clock in which to leave the build-
ing.
By this time the entire assembly was in
an uproar, women weeping hysterically
and men dropping down behind the
benches to be out of range of stray shots.
The groom, seeing the determined look
upon the veteran's face, decided to take no
chances, and muttering a few words hur-
riedly left the building,after which Mason’s
revolver went back into his pocket and
order was again restored.
The minister was about to dismiss the
assembly when, after whispering a few
more words to the bride and receiving her
nod of assent, Mason asked the minister to
continue the ceremony. In another min-
ute the words were said that made Mason
and his old sweetheart man and wife, alter
which followed words of congratulation
from the many old friends of the groom,
who had not uutil that time recognized
him.
Sam Jones Attacks Potter.
Says the Bishop will Soon Be Broadening the
Commandnients.
Evangelist Sam Jones, in a letter to an
Atlanta (Ga) paper makes a vicious at-
tack on Bishop Potter, of New York, for
his attitude towards Prohibition. He
charges that Bishop Potter represents no
one but the ‘‘Four Hundred’’ of New York,
preaches the doctrine of the voluptuary,
seeks to broaden the Ten Commandments,
and liberalize the moral law. The letter
says :—
“‘Bishop Potter, of New York City, isa
great man; he'is all sorts of a man; he is
everybody’s man. It is not because he is
an Episcopalian that makes me say, what
I say, but it is because of his views, so
widely cirenlated, which, I am sure, the
devil himself approves.
‘‘Bishop Potter, of New York. knows as
little about us poor white people in Geor-
gia as we care about him in New York.
He runs with a different crowd and trains
with a different gang. The good, God-
fearing people of Georgia are for Prohibi-
tion. and we don’t like the names he calle
our pet theory, such as ‘impudent fraud
and impudent failure.’
“The business of a minister of God in
this world is to champion and fight for
everything that’s right and to denounce
everything that’s wrong. There is not a
good man in Georgia who indorses the sen-
timent of Bishop Potter, of New York-
May Bishop Potter vaporize about educa.
tion and transformation and so on but what
good people of Georgia want is Prohibition.
“I tell you, in New York, when they
take a Bishop around with them, and dine
him and wine him and stuff him and toast
him, it doesn’t take him long to imbibe the
views of wine-bibbers and gluttons and to
preach the doctrine of voluptuaries from the
platform. How long before the Bishop
and his gang will be broadening the Ten
Commandment and liberalizing the moral
law so they wonld bave it read :
‘Thou shalt nct steal less than a million
dollars.
“Thou shalt not break the Sabbath. but
‘bend it double if there is money in it.
‘ ‘Thou shalt not have more than one
wife at your home.
‘* ‘Thou shalt not covet, but get all you
can get and keep all you get.
‘ *Thon shalt not he guilty of idolatry;
worship the true and the living dollar.” ?
——Not many miles from Morrisdale
lives a woman 57 years of age. She has
reared a large family. She owus a good
farm of 75 acres, has money in the bank
and she could spend the balance of her life
at ease. Last fall with theaid of a son she
| prospected for coal on her farm and found
a three foot vein. She opened a drift and
developed the mine. She dug and loaded
four and five tons a day sold it to farmers
and people in the vicinity at five cents a
bushel. In speaking about it to a friend
she said she could load and run the coal
out all right but she bated the mining;
this part of the work was the most irksome
because she had to lie down to mine. She
does her own ploughing. She frequently
walks to Philipshurg, a distance of ten
miles,
Sliver Causes Arm Amputation.
Mus. Devillo Dexter, of Delmar, Tioga.
county, several weeks ago ran a sliver info
the middle finger of her right hand. The
finger became so hadly affected that it had
to be amputated. This did not stop the
infection, and the other day the arm was
amputated near: the elbow. Only a few
months ago her husband lost the sight of
an eye by being struck with a nail he was.
driving.
— Subcribe for the WATCHMAN