Bellefonte, P2., Nov. 10, 1905.
MY BED 1S A BOAT.
My bed is like a little oat;
Nature helps me in when I embark;
She girds me in my sailor's coat
And starts me in the dark.
At night T go on board and say
Good-night to all my friends on shore;
I shut my eyes and sail away
And see and hear no more.
And sometimes things to bed I take,
As prudent sailors have todo;
Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake,
Perhaps a toy or two.
All night across the dark we steer;
But when the day returns at last,
Safe in my room, beside the pier,
I find my vessel fast.
R. L. Stevenson.
S————
THE SUBSTITUTE.
At the station the woman peeped about
her, wistfully, simidly. She was all alone,
and the heavy veil she wore against the
driving mist bardly seemed to shut her off
from a world hostile hy its very strange-
ness. It was all so differents from her own
conception of a military encampment.
Within her mind she had pictured the or-
dered regularity of shining tents. Instead,
her blue,brooding eyes peered across a scene
of tumult and stark confusion. Men in the
rag-tag and bobtail of fusty uniforms bawl-
ed ous orders which no one seemed to heed.
Distracted railroad officials toiled fruitless-
ly at a mass of unidentifiable freight, grow-
ing momentarily by the outpourings of
fresh cars. A pair of glaring pine shacks
rose from a wallow of mud in the fore-
ground. Back of them a dingy huddle
of tents barely held its own against the
gale that swept across the Sound, while on
the other side of the crowded tracks, the
veirdared, treeless Montauk hillocks undu-
lated nakedly to the Aslantio.
A voice hehind the woman yelled, im-
portuning some distant source of informa-
tion:
“Hey! Where’ll we pat this thing?”’
The woman turned, and shuddered back
from a coarse, deal coffin, heavy with its
dead. Her swift revalsion brought her
roughly in contact with a man who had
jumped aside to escape a truck, cursing the
clumsiness of its bandlers while still, as it
were, in mid air. Fiercely he turned npon
her, eyesthat were red from sleeplessness
and strain.
“‘What are you doing here?’’ he growled.
*“This is no place for women.”
“I want to find the hospital,’’ she an-
swered in a sweet, deep-toned voice, with
just a slight accent of Germap. ‘Could
you tell me where——7’ .
‘“‘Everywhere!’’ he interrupted, broadly
sweeping a gesture wish his thin, browned
hand. ‘‘All hospital!’
¢*Ah-b-b,"’ she breathed quiveringly.
“All hospital.”
‘‘For miles and miles around,’’ he said,
with stern gravity. *
Pashing aside her veil she looked abroad
over that dismal scene. The man glanced
into her face, and took from his unkempt
head the wreckage of a hat. 1t was not a
beautiful face; bat never,the man thought,
bad he seen one more sweet and loving
and sorrowful. She might have sat fora
model of the Madonna as forty. Eternal
mother-hood yearned in her brooding gaze.
For an instant she tarned it upon him—
and he understood.
‘You are looking for your son?’’ he said.
“Yes,” said the woman. ‘‘For mv boy;
my Karl.” Her eyes widened. ‘‘ Wunder-
bar! How have you known!”’
He shook his head, musingly. ‘Never
mind,’’ said he. *‘But I am sorry I was
rough with you at first.”’
She made a little gesture signifying thas
it mattered nothing, and passed to that
which lay deepest in her heart.
‘My Karl,’’ she besought.
help me to find him?”
‘A hurrying express official —an executive
of some inportance who bad contributed
his own ‘‘personal supervision’’ to the in-
orease of confurion—bumped into them,
head over shoulder. The man caught at
his sleeve.
“You will
‘‘Get me a sheet of paper ani a pencil, |
will youn?"
*‘Wo d’ you think you're talking $0?"
was the angry response. ‘‘Get out of my
way.”
The other whirled him round with a
swing. ‘Do as yon’re ordered,’’ he snap-
ped. ‘‘You’re nos in your office now.”’
The express official muttered some apol-
ogy about nos having understood. ‘‘Paper’s
a scarce article just now,’’ he said. ‘‘Here’s
a bit of pencil. I'll try to find some.”
He stepped back and a bright, new shin-
gle cracked under his heel.
Never mind. Get off that shingle,”
said the other and picked it up.
Resting it on his knee he hastily scrawl-
ed upon its smooth side:
Dear Major Brown:
Please do what you can for the beaver.
And oblige,
Yours,
Cuasg, Prov. Mar.
‘‘Take that to Major Brown at the Geu-
eral Hospital,’’ he said, handing it to the
woman.
She canght it to her bosom. Her face
was radiant. :
‘“Youare so kind,’’ she said simply.
“‘Where shall I find him?” :
“Wait a minate. Hey! You!”
In response to the peremptory hail a
ramshackle turn-ont came clattering up,
the driver touching his cap as he drew
rein. .
**Take ber to the General Hospital. See
that she reaches Major Brown’s orderly.
Understand? Don’t charge her three prices,
either. D’ you hear?’ :
‘‘All right, sir. She’s as good as there.”’
“It he tries to stick yon more than half
a dollar, yon let me kmow,’”’ added the
man turning to her. ‘‘That’s all right
about the thanks, Hope you find your boy.
Maybe I'll ran across you at the hospital
to-morrow if you’re— Blast your eyes,
you idiot! Didn’t I tell you not to come
back without baving seen General Young?’
And the man whirled, with furious words
upon a stapid-looking underling who was
stammering excuses.
Half-stunned with the savage swiftness
of it all, the woman was driven away from
her new-found friend. The shaky vehicle
soiled up long hills, drawing aside now
and agaio for the downward passage of
rushing, thundering, six-mule teams mak-
ing speed to the music of the drivers’ shrill
whistles of gnidance; down into sloughs of
mud where loud -enrsing and loud-cuorsed
privates of the engineer corps toiled to un-
bog stalled provision wagons; along the
shores of a gloomy lake lined with the
shivering sick who had crawled thither to
sun themselves and been caught in the
swift ouslanght of the gale; and so, at lass,
up the long ascent to the great hospital.
i She
needs it.
Here, for the first time, the driver was
able to withdraw attention from his mo-
tive power.
“Friend o’ Capt’in Chase's, be ye?’ he
asked.
“I do not know him,’’ said the woman.
‘‘Gentleman that put ye in my rig.”
‘Ah! He is a soldier, then?"
“No, ma’am. He’s an officer. Provost
Maishal o’ this zamp. He's a terror, he
is! Don’t think of nothin’ but work an’
makin’ other folks work.”
‘He thought of a stranger’s need,’’ she
said softly.
The driver looked at her with shrewd,
Long Island surmise. ‘‘Searchin’ fer a boy
o’ yours, I bet.”
“Yes. Youn know it, too.
How?"
With a somewhat sheepish grin, the
driver replied: ‘‘Oh, I dunno. Just kinder
guessed it from your looks. Wounded?”
“No. He is ill of typhoid fever. As
soon as I got the news I started. That was
four days ago. Four days ago,” she repeat-
ed to herself, and shivered.
“I swanny! Must ’a’ come quite some
distance.’
“From Montana,”’ said the woman.
““The distance is nothing, if only I come in
time.’
“Likely to have quite some difficulty, I
should suppose. Reg’lar flammuxed up,
them hospitals. General Hospital up here;
First Division over yonder; Detention Hos-
pital back a ways. Chuck she sick soldiers
in whereever it comes handiest. No labels:
to ’em or nothin’.”
‘‘Labels?’’ queried the woman.
“Sare,’’ said the driver cheerfully. ‘To
tel! who they are. Lots of ’em don’t know,
no more’n a lnmp o’ mud. Plumb looney.
Or senseless.”
‘The woman’s calm features contracted
with pain.
“Was he a private?’ continued the lo-
quacious Jehu.
“A private of the Sixth Cavalry. Per-
haps some of his officers—"’
“Oh, shucks! They wouldn’t know.
Don’t nobody koow about privates. They
don't count. Pile’em ap any place. May
not even have got up here fiom Coby as
all. Why, they’s officers been missin’ here
for more’n a week and no trace of’em. If
they can’t louvk out for officers, what
chance d’ you £’pose a privates got?”’
“Qott mich erbarme!’’ murmured the
As he did.
‘| woman.
“Ob, say, ma’am,’’ cried the Long Is-
lander in quick contrition. “I.did n’s go
for to pester yoar feelin’s. Like as not
you ’ll find him, slick an’ easy. Anyhow,
Major Brown ’l1 git him if he ’s here. This
is the Major’s quarters. No, ma’am; I
don’t want no pay. [I-I.I did n’t go for to
discourage you. I hope—I-I guess you ’il
find your boy all right.”
Ushered by an oiderly in flannel paja-
mas—there was a shortage of clothing as of
moss else in the hovpital—the woman was
brought before a powerfully baile, beavy-
bearded man who was giving ous rapid di-
rections to half a duzen subordinates. He
read the shingle, and his eyes, sore with
want of rest and worry, twinkled.
“Swell stationery, Chase uses,’’ he be-
gan. “Well, anything that can be done for
a friend of his—"’
“No; Major Brown,’’ said the woman.
“I must n’c les you think thas. He has
been very kind; but I never saw him be-
fore.”
“Oh, well; be’s a friend of yours any-
way, or he would n’t have done this bit of
wood-engraving. What is the trouble?”
Standing before him she told her story.
Few words there were to it, for she was
mistress of contained emotions. Her only
boy—the sudden contagion of patriotic
fervor in their little village—his enlist-
ment while still in college—the one or two
glowing letters from the fort—Cuba—the
brief word thas told her of she fever and—
could the Major give her back her son?
That was all. Bat each syllable throt:!.
with the mother’s passion that compels
every son of woman upon whom the spell
is laid.
“Well, well, well!’’ said the Major when
the brief, pregnaut recital was over. ‘‘We
must see whas we can do. We must cer-
‘tainly see— Well, well! I don’t wonder
that Chase— It’s a haystack search, ma’am,
but we'll find bim if he’s here. Where's
that shingle?’’
Picking it up from the packing-box
which served as his desk, he scribbled on
is:
Pass bearer, all lines. Browx.
‘Now, the best thing you can do is to
stars right in and look through the tents.
If you—I mean, when you find him, send
‘me word. I'll get quarters for youn with
the norses, somehow—though the Lord
knows where, for they ’re sleeping in trunks
now,”’ he added to himself. ‘*Wish I bad
some one to send with you but—waita
moment.’’
A young man, shabby and worn as were
all in that weary camp, entered the tent
and gave the Major good day. In 1etuin
the Major furnished him with a name and
some details. ‘‘Know anything about such
a man?’ he asked, in conclusion.
The young man shook his head. ‘Not
by that description,’’ he said.
“This is one of our newspaper corres-
pondents,’’ the Major explained to the
woman. ‘‘He knows more about the sick
men than any of us, because he’s making
a daily list. You tell him about your
boy.”
The woman told. Hardened as was the
newspaper man by his service in that tragio
camp, he yet saw the face of the speaker,
worn and loving and sorrowful, grow dim
before his eyes as the narrative drew its
swift close.
“No;’” he said gently. ‘I'm afraid I
bave n’t seen him. Bot let me go with
vou. I can guide you to the tents he’s most
likely to be in.”
“That ’1] be first rate,’’ said the Major
heartily. *‘I was afraid you conld n’t spare
the time —"’
“I can’t’? said the osher in a half whisper
as the woman eagerly turned to go. ‘‘But
I’ do it. Did you ever see auch—sunch a
mesmeric face! When she said, ‘He is all
the child I shall ever have,’ Ifels ae if—
well, as if I were a little hoy once more.
And,” headded, with apparent irrelevance,
‘she does n’t look any more like my
mother than you do.”” :
“Nor mine,”’” said the Sargeon-Major
‘‘but she hit me the same way. Hypuotiz-
2 old Hard-shell Case, 00,” he chuck-
ed.
Together, the woman and the correspond-
ent began the long routine of the hospital
tents. Upon face after face fell her
questing gaze, only to turn away in infi
nite pity and infinite disappointment.
Once after she bad risen from wmoistening
the forehead of a wan convalescent who had
begged ber for a word, she turned to her
companion.
‘How do they bear it! How do they
bear it!’’ she half groaned.
“Who, these?’ said he.
‘‘The doctors. And you have to be
among all this suffering day after day! My
heart is like to burst out of me!'’ She press-
ed her hands to her breast and looked at |
him with something like terror.
All that day and far into the evening
lasted the futile search. Continually her
quest was interrupted hy the appeals of
those to whom the very sight of the woman
was a blessing and an assuagement of suffer-
ing. And though her own errand tugged
as her heartstrings, she turned a deaf ear to
no appeal. Once the reporter thought she
bad found ber lost one. That was when a
tall, black-bearded man shots out a swifs
band from biz huddle of blankets and caught
ber wiist. The man’s eyelids were pressed
tight together and he was mastering rapid-
ly.
“Is it your son?’’ cried the reporter.
¢No,” was the sorrowful reply. ‘My
Karl is broad and fair and only a boy.
What does this man say ?”’
A convalescent who was acting as at-
tendans hobbled up. ‘‘Don’t be scared,
mum,’’ he said. He ’s looney but he ain’t
’armfal. Too weak.”
*‘I am not afraid,” she said quietly.
“Who is he?”
“Wisht we knew. Off’cer, I think. He
can’t tell nothin’. Only sputters out fool-
ish figgers. Been that way for a week.
Listen, now.”’ .
‘‘Six-hundred-and-fifty,’’ issued in a thin
edge of speech from the fevered mouth.
“‘Six-hundred-and-fifsy. Six-hundred-and
fitsy. Tell them. Tell them. Tell them.
Six-hundred-and-fifey.”’
Bending above him the woman quieted
the tossing head with a cool hand, and
spoke softly in his ear. The wrinkled fore-
bead relaxed a trifle. ‘‘Six-hundred-and
fifty’’ be repeated, and now there was a
note of appeal in his voice.
“That is where she live:?”’ asked the
woman in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘‘Yoa
wants us to tell her to come?’
“Of course,”’ he said petulautly. ‘‘Tell
Agues to come.”’
“We will send
street?’’
“Fourth Avenue, of course,’”’ came the
ready answer.
‘*And the mame?’’ she asked softly.
But the wearied brain would work no
farther. The man moaned, thrust his
withered arms outward and was convulsed
by a chill.
‘Well, what do you think of that!’
cried the attendant in dire amazement.
‘“We’ve been tryin’ to get somethin’ out of
him for a week. Nobody thought nothin’
of them figgers.”’
*‘We must do the best we can,”’ said the
woman. ‘‘How can I get a telegram sent
to Agnes, 650 Fourth Avenue, New York?
It would be New Yoik, I think.”
“I ’ll attend to that,”’ said the corres-
pondent. ‘‘But how in Heaven’s name did
vou know? It ’s like magic.”
She flashed a little. ‘‘Something —I
cannot explain—I knew. I knew there was
some one who longed for him as my Karl
is longing for me. Only it was a wile, I
think.”
And she was right. Two days later a
bride of a year was searching the camp over
to thank on her knees the woman who had
summoned her—juast in time.
On the day after the woman’s arrival,
the correspondent, dismoanting in front of
medical headquarters, saw ber coming from
far down the line. Bravely she tried to
smile a greeting to him. There was no need
of question; the search had not ended. To-
gether they finished the round of the re-
maining tents.
‘‘He is not here—anywhere,’”’ said the
woman, in still dispair.
The correspondent cleared his throat and
started to tell her something. It concern=
ed the burial ground where lay the un-
known dead. Among them, he knew, were
two privates of cavalry;so much the sur-
geon had determined, but no more was
known of them. With the hest of inten-
tions, the correspondent did n’t get beyond
the start. There he switched off to the
last faint hope that her missing boy might
be in a detachment to be brought over from
the Detention Hospital that afternoon. It
wae a very faint hope, for all convalescents
of that lot were sapposably listed. It was
gnite insufficient to justify his silence
about the nameless graves. Bat he wasa
coward ,that correspondent. I ought to
know, for I was the man.
Something about medical supplies gone
wrong called Captain Chase from hig thous-
and and one other duties, to the General
Hospital that afternoon. Outside of the
latest erected tent he met Major Brown.
*‘Onght to be court-martialed for unload-
ing that woman on yon,’’ said the Provost
Marshal. ‘‘Could n’t help it. She wanted
her son and she bad to have him,and I had
to help. That’s all there was to it.”
‘No diagram needed,’”’ returned the
surgeon. ‘She bad me going, from the
fires. And that newspaper chap has been
playing messenger boy for her. Queer,
ain’s it? But she has n’t found her young
hopeful.” :
“Umph!”’ granted the soldier. Then he
swore mildly. ‘‘Reekon your mammy
might bave been lookin’ for you that ’a-
way, Major?’ he quizzed casually. ‘With
just about such a look around the eyes? Ob,
well! Where is she?”’
“Just went inside to look over this new
batch.”
Half way down the tent they came upon
her. She was bending over an improvis-
ed box-cot that suggested grimly an
original intent to be a coffin. Its occun-
pant was delirious and muttering, his face
balf buried in the bunch of cloth that
served as a pillow. Suddenly he whirled
over and opened his dark eyes full upon
the face bending above him. A wondering
smile curved and bovered in the corners of
his mouth. A sigh of intense longing, satis-
fied at last, burst from the fallen chess.
The eyes, half-glazed, seemed to look
thiough and heyond her; there was a great
joy in their gaze.
‘“‘Mother!”’ he whispered. :
The woman caught in her throat a little
ory of dismay.
‘‘Mother!”’ whispered the boy again—he
was no more than a hoy. “It’s you! I
knew you'd come.”’ : :
The woman's breath struggled forth in
gasps. Like the hands of one groping in
darkness, her hands spread and flustered.
Ae the figure on the cot thrust ons wasted
arms toward her, the Major's grasp fell
firmly on her wrist.
‘Don’t be alarmed,’ said his low-drop-
ped voice behind her. ‘‘He is semi-delir-
ious. You are the first woman he has seen.
A common hallucination; that's all.”
With a sob she straightened up.
‘‘Mother! Mother!’’ The thin voice rose
to a wail, poignant with terror and grief.
“You're not going to leave me!’’
At the cry, all the imperative maternity
of the woman rose within her. She dropped
on her knees, took the hurning head to her
hosom aud cradled it there, the bright tears
falling on the hoy’s face.
‘“Dou’t ery,’ he said. ‘It ’s all right
now. You won’t go away again, will you?’
“No.”
The tone was serene. But Major Brown,
leaning vo his fellow-officer whispered in
his ear; ‘I've seen’em take the knife with-
out a whimper. But this—with her own
boy mayhe dying in reach of her—well, it
beats me!’
The sick man cradled his cheek on the
woman’s hand, and dozed. She moved
word to 650—what
Ld
painfully nearer, to ease herself a little, if | “Philadelphia’s Old Continental”? Be
is might be, from the strain. Captain
Chase caught up one of the few and price-
less chairs of the camp, tore the legs out,
and thrust it under her for support. Pres-
ently the patient’s lips moved; he was
maustering incoherently. The woman bent
her head and spoke gently.
“Yes,” he said. ‘‘I know. I'll goto
sleep in a minute. I was thinking of the
scrap. Ob, I must show you where they
got me.”’
Feebly and proondly be clawed the shirt
from his shoulder te show the buMet mark.
“The Sixth was doing business that day.”’
**Whas Sixth? Not—not the Sixth Cav-
alry 1"? Is had broken from her lips before
she thought.
**Of course! You knew that,’’ he said ag-
grievedly.
*‘Yes, yes, dear,”’ she said patiently,
and loosed her band to smooth the hair
back from his forehead.
**I’11 sell you bow I got it. There wasa
fellow we called Dutcby in our troop. Big,
white-headed chap from ont West some-
where. What was his real name? My
head’s all wrong. Anyway, when we got
in noder the earthwork he was next to me.
He was a queer mutt. Fussy as a girl about
bugs and worms, and always scared blue
that one of those big tarantula spiders
would get in his shoe.”’
He stopped short, for the band on his
forehead was quivering like a creatore
stricken. Dutehy! And that diead of
crawling things that had been born in her
boy. the heritage of her own shunddering
horror!
“Go on,’’ she said hoarsely, and waver-
ed.
‘Look out! She’s going to faint,” said
Captain Chase, sharply.
She motioned him back.
“Why, mother !'’ said the sick soldier.
“What is it? Yon ’re shaking.”’
“Is is nothing,’ she said sweetly. ‘‘Go
on—my boy.”’
‘Keep your band on my forehead. It
feels so cold; it helps me to think. When
we got to the trenches one of the biggess,
hairiest tarantulas in all Cuba popped ous
of a hole right in front of Dutchy. He he-
gan to shiver all over. Just like you did,
then. Don’t you like spiders, mother?”
*‘He’s piling it on,”” whispered Major
Biown. ‘‘She can’t stand much more.
Well, it can’t last much longer. He's al-
most gone. This is the last flicker.”’
‘*Yes, sir; I thought Dautchy was going
to make a sneak from shat bug,’’ continusd
the boy. ‘Instead he pulled his gun and
spattered the spider all over the place.
Laugh! Ilavghed so I bad to stand up to
get the kinks out of me, and when I stood
up some Spanish son-of-a-gun got me.
After it was over Datechy came back and
gave me all his water and carried me half
a mile on his back. Water was worth
money, then, I tell you, too.”
‘*And what became of—of — Dutchy
after?’
*‘I don’t know,’’ said the boy gropingly.
“I think he’s here--somewhere. Mother!"
The leap of the woman’s heart had all
but Lifted ber to her feet. At the cry she
relaxed.
*‘There, there,’”’ she murmured. ‘Be at
peace.”’
“*You—you—I thought youn started to
go, then.”’
‘‘Don’t be afraid, dear. Tell me why
you think Datehy is here.”
“Well, while we were being taken off
the ship I thought I heard him yelling to
some one to take that bug away. Maybe
it was my head, though. Moss everybody
was crazy and yelling, anyway.”’
Again the eyes closed.
‘I 11 raise his head while you get away,’’
whispered Major Brown. ‘‘Chase, be ready
to lifs her ous.”’
As it warned, the boy’s hand wavered up
and closed on the fingers caressing his fore-
head. A sublime despair settled on the
woman’s face. Something like a spasm
shook her and passed. She looked up as
the men behind ber, eagerly ready for her
rescue, and with such an aspect as angels
must bend from the heavens, she shcok
her head.
“Well, Iam—never mind what!" said
Major Brown. ‘‘Talk ahoutsheer nerve!”
An hour later the boy died; died happily
with eyes fixed in blessed ignorance on the
mothering face to the lass. She kissed the
dead lips and murmared: ‘‘Pray God for
me that I may see my son—if only as I
saw you.’’
Then, utterly foredone she tried to get to
her feet, lurched forward, and would have
tallen but for the two officers. Between
them they supported her toward the open-
ing, as, racked and gasping, she staggered
down she long, grassy aisle. Half way, a
gaunt apparition rose in their path. It was
the skeleton of a blonde, blue-eyed young
giant, the emaciated face bristling palely
with a scrub of beard.
‘No, my friend,”’ muttered the Captain,
blocking off the obstructor. ‘‘Not any
more imaginary sons for her to-day. Flesh
and blood could n’t stand is.”
The woman took no heed. Her tear-
blinded eyes saw nothing. The gaunt
apparition leaped forward and clawed at
her breast. From its bearded lips quav-
ered a hoarse, harsh voice.
“Don’t you know me? Oh, Mutterchen!
Don’t you know me? It’s Karl.”
There was a ringing cry, a great sob of
joy, and the substitute mother had come to
her own.—Byv Samuel Hopkins Adams, in
MeClure's Magazine.
A GOOD STORY. .
Frank Deshon who has been touring the
South at the head of the Nixon & Zimmer-
man Opera company’s elaborate produc-
sion of *‘The Office Boy,”” Ludwig Eng-
langer and: Harry B. Smith’s melodious
musical comedy, ran against strong oppo-
sition in Chattanooga in the person of
Samuel P. Jones, the famous revivaliss,
Deshon, interested in his opposition, as he
had felt the sting of Jones’ popularity in
other towns which they had played, attend-
ed one of the meetings in which Samuel P.
waxed eloquently. He suddenly, said
‘Deshon, interrupted his discourse with thie
query:
‘‘How many of you bave ever known a
perfect man, entirely perfect withont any
fault at all?’
i
He glanced fiercely at his silent andience
that made no sign. Then evidently to
show his fairness he asked:
*‘Well, who ever seen a perfec’ woman?
Any one’s ever seen a perfec’ woman please
rise.”’
To the Evaugelist’s utter amazement a
tall, middleaged woman, whose big dark
eyes set in her sallow face were fixed
upon the preacher, arose from her seat on
the front bench.
‘‘Madan,’’ he thundered, ‘‘do you mean
to tell me you've seen a perfect woman
that never did no wrong at ali?”’
‘Wal,’ che said slowly, gazing at her
interlocnter with the air of one who feels
that she has the basic trnth on her side
and who is solemnly conscious that she
should adhere to the letter of it, ‘‘wal, I
cayn’, say as I ever did ’xactly see her,
bat I hearn tell a powerful sight about
her—she war my old man’s fust wile!”
gins Life Amncw.
Under New Management and Rejuvenated at
a Cost of Over $150.000.
The Continental Hotel in Philadelphia
has been lifted clear out of all semblance to
its o'd self. As a cost of over $150 000 Mr.
H. E. Maltby, who took possession of the
famous old hostelry in May,bas been busily
at work in renovating it since the 1st of
June.
Not only has it been remodelled, but
new fnrniture bas heen installed thiough-
out, and everything looking to the comfort
of guests bas been done. On the first floor
the walls of the exchange, corridors. cafe,
barber shop, and reception room have been
torn away and built in solid marble.
On the second floor many of the rooms
which were formerly en suite have been
converted into ladies’ salons, lounging-
rooms, men’s smoking and reading rooms,
and private dining-rooms. In the matter
of these private dining-rooms Mr. Malthy
has made it a point to have them equal the
best in the city. They are beantifully deo:
orated, the farnishings being in Flemish
oak and solid mabogany and the walls
have been finished in approved style, with
decorations and paintings calculated to ap-
peal to the most critical eye.
All corridors ob each of the five floors
have been redecorated and in many places
widened several feet. At regular intervals
throonghout their length appear landscape |
paintingse and a variety of others of large
dimensions.
Arabian curtains, wiih the Maltby crest
as a centerpiece, have been hung in all the
windows, while they, as well as the door- |
ways, have been draped with heavy por-
tieres.
To add to the amusement of future guests
a seven-piece orchestra has been installed.
Afternoon and evening concerts will he the
order 1n the future.
In addition to the other improvements,
many of the old windows have heen torn
away, and in their place colored glass has
been installed. Handsome chandeliers ree
place those of former times, and in each of
the 540 rooms of the hostelry they bave
been suspended from the centre of the ceil
ings, and add much to the beauty of the
decorations.
To add to the safety of guests fire escapes
of the newest design bave been placed at
the four corners of the building and are
easily accessible from all floors.
These improvements mark a new epoch
in the old Continental’s history, and bun-
dreds of its patrons are sending in congrat-
ulatory notes to Mr. Malthy from all parts
of the country.
Finland Wins Her Freedom.
Czar Yields to Demands to Prevemt an Open Revolu- | «
“I'he whole town is in the hands of
Slaughter at Odessa Haits.
tion.
St. Petersburg, Nov. 6.—The whole
structure of the autocratic regime is
falling and Emperor Nicholas no longer
resists. The memorable week in which
were witnessed the abdication of abso-
lutism before a political strike dem-
onstration extending: throughout the
confines of the empire and reducing the
government to impotency and the birth
of a new and popular regime amid
scenes of disorder, pillage, bloodshed
and worse, ends in a complete surren-
der to the aspirations of the Fin-
landers.
After the issuance of the imperial
rescript of March 3 the Finlanders
managed to wrest some concessions,
including the restoration of the Finnish
language, and last week they were
quick to see and to seize an opportu-
nity while all the attention of the gov-
ernment was engrossed on the empire
proper. They struck and tied up the
railroads over which troops could be
dispatched and compelled the emperor's
appointed senate to resign in a body.
They organized a militia in Helsing-
fors, practically drove the Russian
gendarmerie out of the city and sent a
deputation to Prince John Obolensky,
the governor general, and also one to
Peterhof to demand the immediate con-
vocation of the diet in extraordinary
session and the obliteration of the
whole Russification policy. The situa-
tion was so threatening that the gov-
ernment was obliged to send warships
to Helsingfors and turn the guns of the
fort on the city.
More Manifestos Signed.
On the advice of Count Witte and
Prince John Obolensky, Emperor Ni-
cholas yielded and signed manifestos,
not only cenvoking the diet but giving
it control of the budget and authoriz-
ing an election law providing for uni-
versa! suffrage. Another manifesto
abrogates the military and other laws
of Russification. These have been dis-
! patched by fast torpedo boat to Hel-
singfors.
Fatal encounters between the sol-
diers and the populace and anti-Jewish
excesses are reported from many
places in the provinces. At Kutais
a military train was wrecked and nine
soldiers were killed. After the collis-
ion the revolutionaries opened a rifle
fire on the train and the troops replied
in kind. There were several killed or
injured on hoth sides.
At Berdicheff several persons were
killed or injured, and at Minsk seri-
ous rioting arose through the troops
preventing a meeting of citizens. The
troops fired volleys into the crowds
and there was intermittent firing for a
long time. A hundred were killed and
600 were wounded. Indescribable hor-
rors are being witnessed every day.
The massacre and pillage of the
Jews continues at Kishineff.
ODESSA QUIETS DOWN
Latest Accounts Tell of Horrible
Atrocities Infiicted On the Jews.
Odessa, Nov. 6.—A tour of the city
and part of the suburbs found all
quiet, while rows of shops that were
pillaged have been boarded up. The
poorer Jewish quarters suffered the
worst, and the principal streets, with
few exceptions, were untouched. Rus-
sian shops are marked with crosses
painted on the shutters and the private
houses with ikons, so as to protect
them irom the mobs.
Peasants armed with knives and
scythes tried to enter the city Satur-
day to loot the place, but they were
driven back by the soldiers.
The casualties in Saturday’s disturb-
ances e%ceed 140, and those of the
preceding tarce days, which have been
verified, number nearly 5600. The plun-
dering continued yesterday morning in
the outlying districts, but today the
city was relatively calm, though the
population is still anxious.
: Revolting Barbarity.
The latest accounts of the devasta-
tion in the Jewish quarter add horror
to the situation. Besides numerous
mills, all the bakeries, shops and pri-
vate houses have been destroyed. The
Jews killed in every circumstance
were treated with revolting barbarity.
Heads were battered with hammers,
nails were driven into the bodies, eyes
were gouged out and ears severed.
Many bodies were disemboweled, and
in some cases petroleum was poured,
over the sick found hiding in cellars
and they were burned to death.
It is alleged that the police and
soldiers everywhere marched at the
head of mobs, inciting them to de-
stroy the Jews by crying “The Jews
have killed our emperor,” and similar
expressions. While the mobs were en-
gaged in the slaughter the soldiers
busied themselves pillaging the cash
and jewels, leaving the household
goods to the mobs. The owners of
many houses got rid of the bandits by
the payment of a ransom to the po-
lice.
The police prevented any one from
arresting the looters and prevented
' also the Red Cross workers from aid-
ing the wounded, actually firing upon
those engaged in this work. A band of
students removed much of the stolen
property to the university, whither
also they took 100 dead bodies of anti-
Jewish demonstrators, whose relatives
besieged the university, claiming the
corpses and demanding the release of
those demonstrators who were con-
fined in the university. They threat-
ened otherwise to burn the university
and kill the professors. Measures were
thereupon taken to transfer these pris-
oners to the regular prison.
Hundreds Killed at Kishineff.
Odessa, Nov. 4—A dispatch from
Kishineff says: “A horrible massacre
has occurred here. Hundreds have
been killed. All the hospitals, phar-
macies and hotels are full of wounded
| and mutilated persons.”
A telegram from Nicolaieff says:
bandits, who are devastating the Jew-
ish houses and shops and beating Jews
to death without the slightest hin-
drance.”
The authorities here have similar
news from other southern cities.
Massacreing Jews at Kieff.
Kieff, Russia, Nov. 4-—The retire-
ment of General Kleigels, the gover-
nor general of Kieff, who was removed
Wednesday and who has been sue-
ceeded by General Soukhomlinoff, has
not served to restore order. The en-
tire city is in a ferment. A report that
the Jews had destroyed a Christian
monastery was circulated among the
mob, and served to provoke a renewal
oft he attacks on the Jews. The mas-
sacre continues. General Karass, the
military commander, called out the
Cossacks, who were met with bombs,
whereupon the Cossacks fired into the
crowd, killing 12 persons and wound-
ing 44. ;
All the stores in the Jewish market
have been plundered and destroyed.
CAN'T HELP RUSSIAN HEBREWS
The President Decides He is Not Able
to Take Action Now. }
Washington, Nov. 7. — President
Roosevelt has decided that no action
can he taken by this government at
present which will be of any benefit to
the Hebrews of Russia. This infor:
mation was made public at the White
House in the following statement:
“Oscar Strauss called upon the
president to consult with him as to
whether there was any possibility of
action which would result in a cessa-
tion of the horrors connected with the
massacre of the Jews in Russia. The
president stated that, of course, he had
‘been watching with the deepest con-
cern the reports of these massacres;
that he had been appealed to within
the last few weeks to try to take some
action not only on behalf of the Jews
in Russia, but in behalf of the Armen-
ians, Poles and Finns. The result of
the president’s inquiries coincide with
statements contained in a cablegram
from Count Witte to Jacob H. Schiff
shown the president by Mr. Schiff, as
follows:
“ “Phe government is horrified at
these outrages. You know that I do
not sympathize with such savage out-
breaks. All I can do to stop the dis-
orders is done, but as the country is in
such unsettled state the local authori-
ties are often powerless.’
“In the conditions of social disor-
der which actually exist in Russia, the
president does not see that any action
can be taken by this government at
present which will be of any benefit to
the unfortunate sufferers for whom we
feel such keen sympathy.”
THREE DEAD IN RUNAWAY
Man, Wife and Niece Met Death On
Mountain Road.
Bedford City, Va., Nov. 6. — John
Vaughn, a prominent Bedford county
farmer; his wife and their 12-year-old
niece met horrible and almost instant
deaths in a runaway on the mountain
road leading to the Peaks of Otter.
Mrs. Vaughn and the girl seem to
have been instantly killed, while Mr.
Vaughn, with his head and body hor
ribly mangled, died soon after being
found and without speaking a word. A
remarkable feature of the tragedy is
that neither the horse, harness nor
buggy was injured. The buggy was
found on the opposite side of the road
from which the three bodies lay. There
were no eye witnesses of the tragedy.