THE FIKE OF HOME, I hear them tell of far-off climes, And treasures grand they hold— Of Minster walls where stained light falls On canvas, rare and old. My hands fall down, my breath comes fast, But ah, how can I roam? My task I know; to spin and sew, And light the fire of home. Sometimes I hear of noble deeds; Of words that move mankind; Of willing hands that to other lands Bring light to the poor and blind. I dare not preach, I cannot write. 1 fear to cross the foam; Who, if I go, will spin and sow And light the fire of home? M7 husband comes, as the shadows fall, Fromethe fields with my girland boy; His loving kiss brings with it bliss That hath ne base alloy. From the new-plowed meadows, fresh and brown, I catch the scent of the loam; *‘Heart, do not fret, "tis something yet To light the fire of home.”* SM A GOOD STORY, “The gentleman on the left, Kate— do you know him? He has looked fre- quently toward youn.” “Has he?” “Who isit?” “I can't tell, I have not seen him.” “Suppose you look?” «1 prefer not. I came tosee the p'ay. Is not Helen Faucet superb?” “So, so, I wish you would tell me who that gentleman on the leftis, I am sure he knows you, and he is strik- ingly handsome.” ““At present the stage interests me, Besides, if men are rude enough to stare at strangers there is no oceasion for us to imitate them.” “Your ladyship has no curiosity?” “Not any, I exhausted it some time »" ul 0. Her ladyship was not telling the truth; she was intensely enrious, but it pleased her at that time to pique the honorable Selina Dorset. That strange sympathy that makes us instantly conscious of a familiar glance, even in a crowded building, had solicited her regard just as Selina had advised her of it. If she had not been asked to look toward her left, she would probably have done so; as it was, she resolutely avoided any movement in that direction. The play finished in a tumult of ap- plause, Lady Kate Talbot forgot every- thing in her excitement, and as she stook up, flushed and trembling, she inadvertently turned toward the left, Instantly she recognized a presence with which she ought to have been familiar enough. The gentleman bowed with an extreme respect. Lady Kate acknowledgad the courtesy in a manner too full of aston- shment to be altogether gracious, and the elaborate politeness of the recog- nition was not softenad by any glance implying a more tender intimacy than that of a mere acquaintance, My lady was silent all the way home, and for some reason Salina was not dis- posed to interrupt her reverie, It did not seem to be an unpleasant one, Kate's faco had a brighs flush on it, and her eyes held in them a light—a light that resembled what Selina would have not been already married, aud her des- tiny apparently settled. “Selina, when you have got rid of all that lace and satin, come up to my room; I have something to say to you.” Selina nodded pleasantly, BShe was sure it concerned the gentleman on the left, She had no loye affairs of her being neither literary or charitable, her time went heavily onward, A little bit of romauce—nothing wrong, of course, but just a little bit of romance, especial- ly if connected with the cold and proper Lady Talbot—would be of all things the most interesting. She was speedily unrob ed, and with her long black hair hanging loosely over her pretsy i gown, she sought my lady's room. y Talbot sat in a dream-like stillness, looking into the bright blaze on the hearth. She scarce- ly stirred as Selina took a large chair beside her, and scarcely smiled when she lifted one of her loosened curls, and said, “What exquisite hair you have, Kate! True golden,” *“Yos, it 18 beautiful, I know that, of course,” “Of what are you thinking so intent. Iv?” “Of the gentleman on our left to- night,” “Ah, who is he? He seemed to know yon.” **He ought to know me much better than be does. He is my husband, Lord Richard Talbot.” “Kate!” ““1t is true” ‘I thought he was in Africa, or Asia, or Earope, or somewhere at tha end of the world.” “‘He is now in Bogland, it seems, I suppose he has just armved, I haye not seen him before,” then?” “Where is he “1 presume in the wing of this raansion, 1 police there are more lights thar usual in it to-night, His ts are there,” “Now, Kate, do tell ma, all, dear. You know I love a romantic love affair, and I am sure this is one.” “You were never more mistaken, Selina, There is no love at all in the affair. That 1s the secret of the whole position, I ht ss you were stay- ing bere this w and might probably see or meet my lord, it was better to make all olear to you, People are so apt to associate wrong with things they do not “To be sure, dear, I suppose Lord ou have had a little dis- Richard and ment, Now, if I could only do auything toward a reconciliation, I should be so happy, you know.” “No, Selina, there has been no quar. rel, and you ean do nothing wt a be- tween us, Idon't want you to , Just be kind enough to ignore the whole circumstances, Lord hard and 1 understood each other nearly four years ago.” “But jt ir nol four years since you aoarried?” “Just four years— yesterday.” *‘And my lord has bees away" “Three years, eight months and eighteen days, so far as I kuow.” ““Well, this is a most extraordinary thing, and very, very sad, I must say.” “It might easily have been sadder. I am going to tell you the exast truth, and I rely upon your honor and discre- tion to keep the secret inviolable.” “My dear Kate, I would not name it for the world.” “Listen, then, One night, when I was scarcely 17 years old, my father sent for me to his study. I had known for months that he was dying, He was the only creature that I had to love,and I loved him very tenderly. 1 must mention this also, for it partly explains my conduct that the idea of disobeyin him in anything had never presente itself to meas a possibility. This night 1 found with him his life loog friend the late Lord Talbot, and the present lord, my husband, I was a shy, shrinking girl, without any knowledge of dress or society, and very timid and embarrassed in my manners, Then my father told me that it was necessary for the good of both houses that Richard sud 1 should marry, that Richard had con- sentod, and that I must meet a few frienbs in our private chapel at7 o'clock in the morning a week later. Of course these things were told me in a very gentle mauner, aud my dear father, with many loving kisses, begged me as a last favor to him to make no objection.” “‘And what did Lord Richard say?” *[ glanced upat him, He stood near a window looking over our fine old park, and when he felt my glance he colored deeply and bowed, Lord Talbot said, rather angrily, ‘Richard, Miss Esher waits for you to speak.” Then Lord Richard turned toward me and said something, but in such a low voice that I did not catch its meaning, ‘My son says you do him a great honor—and pleasure,” exclaimed Lord Talbot, and he kissed me and led me toward the unwilling bridegroom. “Of course 1 ought to have hated him, Selina, but 1 did not. On the contrary, 1 fell desperately in love with him. Perhaps it would have been bet- terforme if I had not. Richard read my heart in my face, and despised his easy conquest. As for me, I suffered in that weak and torturing suspense of a timid school girl in love. I dressed myself in the best of my plain, unbe- coming, childish toilets, and watched wearily every day for a visit from my promised husband; but I saw no more of him until our wedding morning. By this time some very rich clothing bad ar- rived for me and also a London maid, and I tlupk, even then, my appearance was fair enough to have somewhat con- ciliated Richard Talbot. Bat be scarce- ly looked at me. The ceremony was scrupulously and coldly performed, my father, sunt and governess being pros- ent on my side, and on Richard's his father and three maiden sisters, “1 never saw my father alive again; he died the following week, and the mockery of our wedding festivities at Talbot Castle was suspended at once in deference to my griefs Then we came to London, and my lord selected for his own use the left wing of this house, and politely placed st my disposal all the remaining spartments, 1 consid ered this an intimation that 1 was not expected to intrude upon his quarters, and I scrupulously avoided every ap- proach to them, 1 knew from the first that all attempts to win him would be useless, and indeed I felt too sorrowiul and humiliated to try. Duriog the few weeks that we remained under the same roof we seldom met, and I am afraid I j did pot make these rare interviews at all pleasant, I fell wronged and mis- erable, and my wan face and heavy eyes were only a reproach to him.” “Oh, what a moaster, Kate!” **Not quite that, Selina, There were many excuses for him, One day I saw a paragraph in the Times, saying that Lord Richard Talbot intended to accom- pany a scientific exploring party whose destination was Central Asia, I instant. ly sent and asked my husband for an interview. I had intended dressing myself! with care for the meeting, and making one last effort to win the kindly regard, at least, of one whom I could not beip loving. But some unfortunate fatality always attended our meeting and I could not do myself justice in his presence. He answered my request at once; I suppose he did so out of respect and kinduess; but the cousequence was he found me in unbecoming dishabille, and with my face and eyes red and swollen with weeping. “I felt morufied at a prompt attention so malapropos, and my manner, instead of being winning and concilisting, was cold and unnprepossessing. 1 did not rise from the sofa on which I had been sobbing, and he made no attempt to sit down beside me or to comfort me, “I pointed to the paragraph and asked if it was true. * ‘Yes, Lady Talbot,’ he said, a little sadly and proudly; ‘I shall relieve you of my jitseacs in a few days. 1 in. tended Writwell to call on you to-day with a draft of the provisions I had made for your comfort.’ *] could make no answer, I had thought of nny things to say, but now in has presence | was almost [retfal and dumb, He looked at me almost in pity, and said in a low voice, ‘Kate, we have both been sacrificed to » necessity in- volving many besides ourselves, am to make what reparation is pos- sible, 1 shall leave you unrestricted use of three-fourths otf my imcome, I desire you to make your life as gay and pleasant as you can. I have no fear for the honor of our uume in your hands, and I trust that and ail else to you without a doubt, If you would try and learn to make some excuse for my position, I skall be grateful; perhaps when you are not in coustant fear of meeting me, this lesson mey not be so hard) “And Iecould not say a word in reply. I just lay sobbing like a child among the cushions, Then he hited my hand and kissed it, sud 1 kuow he was “And now, Kate, that you have become the most brilliant woman in England, what do yon intend to do?” “Who knows? 1 have such a contrary streak in my natore, I always do the thing 1 donot want to do.” | Certainly it seemed like it; in spite of her confession, when Lord Talbot sent the next morning to request an in- terview, Kate regretted that she had a prior engagement, but hoped to meet Lord Talbot at the Duchess of Clifford's that night, My lord bit his lips angrily, but nevertheless he had been so struck with his wife's brilliant beauty that he deter- mined to keep the engagement, She did not meet him with sobs this time, The centre of an admiring throng, she spoke to him with an ease aud monchalance that woula have indi- caled to a stranger the most usual and commonplace of ascquaintanceships, He tried to draw her into a confidential mood, but she said, smilingly, ‘My lord, the world supposes us to haye already congratulated each other; we need not undeceive it,” He was dreadfully piqued and the pique kept the cause of it continually in his mind. Indeed, unless he lett London, he could hardly avoid constant meetings which were constant aggrava- tions. My lady went everywhere, Her beauty, her wit, her splendid toilets, her fine manners, were the universal theme, He had to endure extravagant comments on them, Friends tcld him that Lady Talbot had never been so brilliant and so bewitching as since his return, He was congratulated on his influence over her, In the meantime she kept strictly at the distance he himself had arranged four years ago. It was evident that if he approached any nearer his beautiful but long-neglected wife, he must hum- ble himself to do so. Why should he not? In Lord Talbot's mind the rea- sons against it had dwindled down to one; but this was a formidable one, It was his valet, Thisman had known all his master’s matrimonial troubles, and in his own way sympathized with them, He was bitterly averse to Lord Talbot's making any concessions to my lady, One night, however, he received a pro- found shock. “Simmons,” said Lord Talbot, very decidedly, ‘go and ask Lady Talbot if she will do me the honor to receive a visit from me?” My lady would be delighted. She was in an exquisite costume, and eonde- scendod to exhibit for bis pleasure all her most bewildering moods, It was with great reluctance he left her after a two hours’ visit, The next night he stayed still longer. My lady had no other eugagemeut, and he quite forgot the one he made to be present at the Marquis of Stairs’ wine party, The following week my lady received every morning a basket of wonderful flowers, and a little note with them containing a hope that she was in good health, One morning she was compelled to say she was not very well, and Lord Talbot was so concerned that he sent Simmons to ask if he might be permit- ted to eat breakfast with her, My lady was graciously willing, and Lord Rich- ard was quite excited by the permission. He changed his morning cravat several times, quite regardless of Simmons’ peculiar face, and with many misgivings as to his appearance, sat down opposite the lovely lady in pale blue satin and cashmere and white lace, It was a charming breakfast, and dur” ing it the infatuated husband could not help saying a greal many sweet and flattering things. Kate parried them very prettily. “It 1s well” ghe gaid, ‘that no one hears ns. If we were not married they would think we were mak- ing love.” “And if we are married, Kate, why not make love, dear?” We had no op- portunity before we were married.” “Ah, Richard, in fashionable life we should make ourselves ridiculous, Every one now says our behavior is ir- reproachable, 1 should have dearly liked it when only a shy, awkward, coun- try girl; but now, my lord we should be ianghed at.” “Then, Kale, let us be laughed at, I for one am longing for it. If time shall run back and fetch the age of gold, why not love? Let us go back, four whole years and a hall. Will you, Kate? — dearest, sweetest Kate?” “We should have to run away to the country, Richard, and now I think of it I have not been to Esher since wo were—married, love." When such a conversation as this was prolonged for five hours, it was little wonder that my lord's valet and my lady's maid received orders fo pack valises and trunks, or that next day Esher Hall was in a happy tumult of preparation, Love comes better late than never, and Lady Kate always told herself that she never could have been so happy in those sweet old gardens with her lover as sho was with her husband, robably they were both as perfectly satisfied as it is possible for human love to be; for, greatly to the amazement of the fash- ionable world, they not only spent the whole summer alone in their country home, but sotually, when they came back tn London, nad the courage to a pear mn the very height of the season the same box at the opera, . “Really, Kate,” says Miss Selina, “I never was 80 astonished. The gentleman on your left" ‘Is always at my right now, dear. He will never be in the opposition again.” “How delightful 1" “For us? Oh, yes, Charming.” € The great proportion of catches for window blinds used by house-builders are utterly worthless, The builders are too mean to purchase a useful and ef. fective article, Therefore, on a windy day or night there is a constant slam. ming of blinds, the makers of which profit by the wear and tear, IN a street car: ‘Mamma, is that man near sighted?” I goeus not, Ger. tie,” “Bat why does he hold that newspaper so close to his face?’ ‘‘Be. cause he is very bashful and is afraid that some lady might ask him to oo. eupy more than one seat,” A srreax of lghtoing: “And what is this animal callea?” ed the teach. or of the class in natural history, ss he pointed to a pictare of a sloth, And the class all shouted at once: “A messon- The Raliroad Newsboy, There is some talk on some of the railroads of abolisidng the newsboys, and an esteemed contemporary recently charged upon him in double ecluma, But although he is not always agreeable to the American traveler, it 1s doubtful if the traveling public will take kindly to the European fashion of depending for all they want to buy en roude upon news and notion stands at the railroad stations, Conservative as the English. man is in all his habits, the newsboy, so far from being a nuisance to him, is generally pronounced one of the decid- ed advantages of American fravel Even when the Englishman is disgusted with our long, open cars and their pro- miscuous company, looks askant eyen at a “Pullman,” doubts the efficacy of the bell-cord which communicates with the engineer, and sees very litile in the baggage check, he will admit the use- fulness of the newsboy, One of these travelers, Mr. Adams, of Newcastle] England, in a recent book of impres. sions about this country, says that “Next to the conductor the most useful person on an American train is the news. boy. This young gentleman is most incessant in his attentions, The first time he pays the passengers a visit he brings around a stock of newspapers, Soon afterwards he makes his appear- ance with an armful of books, mags - zines and views, Leaving each passen- ger a specimen of his wares he retires for a short time to the corner of the train which serves him for a store, When he returns he collects such of the articles as the passengers are indisposed to purchase, ssking all in turn whether they would like to look st anything else, The next visit of the newsboy is in the character of a vender of sweetments, figs, peanuts, banapas and so forth. Nor are these the only temptations the newsboy offers his customers, Cigars ean be bought of him, also fans in the hot weather, sometimes aleo what are ealled ‘notions,” Then on certain pic turesque routes it is partly his business to call the attention of the passengers to the points of interest, the trains stopping for a few minutes at the spot from which the best view can be ob- tained. Altogether the newsboy is an exceedingly useful institution on the American railway,” Despised as ho is; jibea at and sworn at, often deservedly, as he is, he would probably be called back mn hot haste, were he once “‘put off” the train by the railroad companies, Like the unhappy woman's husband, we “‘can’t get alopg with him, but, what is worse,” we ‘‘can’t get along without him.” Captive Squaws, There they come,” said a little fel- low, as he raised a yell that fairly made my throat ache to hear, “And what are ‘they?’ ” I asked, still ignorant of the cause of all the uproar, “Why, the ranchers and the Indians,” he said. *“*Come to the tower, senor, and see the grand sigot,” he continued, darting away toward the cathedral Bat heediess of the invitation, though still excited, I pushed my. way along to the wall in front of the church, and crawling to the place made for me, looked as directed and caught sight of a slow-moving body of men, horses, flags, and women coming down street. A band, leading the procession, was performing some sort of a wild, soul-stirring march, but the music was hardly audible aboye the incessant cheering by the people lining the streets, Marching steadily toward me, I soon saw the composition of the strange army. Directly behind the band came some thirty horsemen, each man carrying the gun he bad used, while his pistols hung from his well- worn saddle, Of all the swarthy, heavy -bearded and tan-browned faces which looked upon the cheering masses, not one wore au expression other than stolid indifference. The funous wel come manifested 10 a hundred different ways never drew even a smile from the sot lips of the brave-hearted fellows who had risked their lives for the people's safety. Calmly looking upon the upturned faces, they rodeo slowly along, as immovable and undisturbed as the white walls of the houses they passed, Behind the ranchmen, who rode two abreast, came eigat men on foot, who held long poles, which they continually moved up and down, ard fastened to them were eight long-haired dark, blood-stained scaips, the proofs of she death of so many hated Apaches, When these hideous trophies were seen the people grew frantic wilh joy. Bravos resounded on all sides; men hie their shawls, and the excited applauded the valiant men until ex. haunted, But the scalp-bearers had hardly passed before there came the squaws who had been taken. The minute these enough to make the heart the ignorant mothers, hated and at because born in a wilderness and the wives of sa caress their obildren to their bremsts and hold them away from the cruel haads out-stretched %o strike, And yet so hated 1s an Apache that every wail was hailed with joy by a i victors, | saw not one face among all the mothers there that bad pity written upon it. Women held their oniidren up to seo the squaws and langhed at the unhappy ves =a Sieh iy Oitiatinting t its Bunday aud the people forgot thelr religion. The spectacle was os barbarous as that which must have been the accompiniment of Cwsar's entry into FE with the bleadiag onptives from Gaul following lus victors - " fous shariot, Did sny of these who locked upon thee poor women, who were doomed to five hereafler in dresry prisons far away and who marched now within hearing of the bells which only a few hours ago had eslled the people to mass, stop to think what their re. ligion taught, or did the clamor of the Spanish brass up there in the graceful towers only serve to drown their reason and inflame their hate? The Cathedral stocd near by, the air was soft and beautiful, and still not one mother's heart apparently pitied or prayed for the unfortunates who marched to a liv- ing death with the sealps of their hus- bands swinging before them, The spectacle was barbarous and in. buman, and taught once more that victory knows no pity and unchecked hatred rules the day in time of war. Later on, when the procession had reached the plazr, tne Mayor meets the ranchmen ani welcomes them to the city and congratulates them on their victory, At the end of his speech the band plays a march again; the bells are rung louder than ever; the bust is raised in perfect clouds, and, after encircling once around the squate, the pageant passed out of sight up the street. An hour later, when the city was enjoying its Bunday evening quiet, I met the Consul of the United States and asked him what had become of the captured women. “They are confirned in the fort at Vera Cruz for life,” “And the children?” “They are given to whoever wants them and are brought up as servants,” ‘“Blaves, then, you mean?” I said. “Hardly that, They will be paid wages when they earn them, and such lives will be better for tnem, far better, than if they had not been captured.” “The scalps—what is done with them?” I asked. “The scalps? Why, the Govern- ment buys them, Every one brings $200. ‘I'he Apaches have long been the scourge of Northern Mexico,” Later still I heard the belis calling for prayers, Entering the dimly-light- ed church, where patches of yellow light fell apon the bare floor of the place, I saw the bended forms of those who were lisping their prayers, and I wondered if they, so quiet now and so devout, could be the same whom I had seen so short a time ago shouting with delight at the sight of a few bioody scalps and a dozen fool-sore women, who had never seen a church nor been allowed to worship anything but a crying baby, Truly, Chihuahua has much to learn, and forgiveness first of ail, EE —— a style in Newspapers, Matthew Arnold does not like the “fragmentary” appearance of the American newspaper. He bas been sccustomed to ponderous essays of the London Times and the Standard, and is taken by surprise at the concise and pithy way of the American newspapers in treating current sopios, It would not be difficult to fill a news- paper with editorial essays after the manner of the London press, bat not one in a hundred subscribers would read them, however ably witten. The London method of editing a newspaper wonld oon kill the best established newspaper in the United States. The American looks to the paper to contain the news of the day from all parts of the world; and the greater the variety the better. He wants it, also, served up in brief, so that before going to his business he can scan the columns quickly aud post himself as to the daily happenings of the poMical, religious, business and social world, He feels entirely competent to draw his own calculations, What he wants is the facts, and his intelligence sup- plies the rest. Occasionally complica- tions may arise where editorial expiaina- tions are of value to him, but he pre fem them to be brief and pointed, and the less rhetorical display there is, the better pleased and satisfied he is, "= Even the London newspapers are proaching the American style, It now possible to find brief editorials in tha London News amd Telegraph, and even a touch of personslity in them. The columns are gradually growing livelier, though they are yet a good ways from the American style of treat. ing current events, It is highly probable that the news- paper of the near future will be made up almost, if not quite, exclusively of telegraph, local news and brief editor. ials, hose who want farther treat. ment of subjects will seek for it in magazines and periodicals specially de- voted to them. First and last, h pApSE to suit American tastes must be a e of news, and as comprehensive in its grasp as society is diversified in ite nterests, Oad Horse Names, There were many odd names for horses 1m early English history. A horse in 17567 was called phant; one foaled in 1787 was christened Crab; Snake was another; a Flecoce-em was foaled in 173L other names which are odd are Jen try-me, Jack-come-tickle-me, Whynot, Slow-em Dainty-Davy, Huncamunca, Nobody, Slow-and-easy and Who-would-have- thought-it, more modern times just ns peculiar names may be found, instance, Big Soap, Billy-Bad-Eye, Gurgle, Id Brown Jug, Nigger Baby, Thistle-Digger, U-be<dam, Up and up, Guess-not, Slow Go, SoBe, Heel-and-toe Fannie and Stolen Kisses, ve as these compare ¥ one of his pups, is quite isos to improve, Let- the fastest dog on this water, Others with odd and more or less valuable in themselves are Toodles, Robert-the- dovil, Try-Me-Once, At-Itagain, All- Bg ers aud Paffer. Bupming Dowa a Deer, They probit hunting deer with y Fe in the hunting regions of East,” said Wagner Ketchum, of Astoria, who has returned home after a twenty years’ absence in the far West. “I suppose that is because the perisist- ence of the dogs in following the game to the death tends to the more rapid depletmg of our woods, But suppose a pack of Apache Indians should be turned loose in any of your bunting fields, A dozen of them would hound more deer to digtruction in one month than all the dogs in the diate could in five vears, “When an Apache hunter goes out for a hunt he despenses with even the scant attire he assumes in his ordinary daily walk in life, He needs no dog, for his quick eye detects the trail of a deer as readily as the hound's does, no matter how keen its scent, On the teal, he follows it as silently as a shadow, for he knows that he will soon come in sight of the game, either feod- ing or lying at rest among the bushes When he sights the deer he steals in within safe gunshot, If the deer’s head is turned away from the hunter, the latter, first taking aim, shuffels his foot on the ground, If the deer is lying down it springs to its feet at tite sound, and wheels around facing the direction from which the sound came, If 1t is standing, it turns quickly. The Apache hunter is always desirous of killing a deer by shooting it as nearly in the centre of the forehead as he can, Bo, when the deer turns toward him, he fires at that spot. His aim is rarely at fault, but sometimes the deer is quicker to discover the cause of its alarm than the hunter is to fire, and turns for safety in flight, An Apache's gun, algo, not infrequently misses fire, and the deer flees on the wings of the wind. To permit a deer to escape after it is once discovered is something thal no Apache hunter is expected to do, and it is against their code to fire a second time. The hunter, failing to kill his game at the first attempt, must run it down, and it js very rare that he fails in this chase, As the deer starts away in its flight, leaping from 20 to 80 feet at a time, the Indian drops his gun, and with hideous yells, starts in pursuit, The deer at first leaves the hunter far behind, putting forth its greatest effort to that end. But ims trail is as plain to the Indian as a turn- pike road is to a white man, and be follows it. As is its nature, as soon as the deer is out of sight and sound of threatening danger, it stops and waits for developements. The sight of the pursuing hunter starts it on its way again, Every halt of this kind tells against the deer, for it is not of sul. ficient length to give it any beneficial rest, and at every new start it is stiffer and less active, Lhe Indian never halts, There are runners among the Apaches who can run for 24 hours without astop, and can make their flve miles every hour of the time. After the deer has ran for two or three hours, its thirst prompts it to make for the nearest water, This the relentless hunter knows to be inevitable, and when the deer reaches that stage of the chase, the Indian considers the victory won There is no hope for the deer after it stops to drink, for it takes in%o ils parched stomach all it can. Having laden itself with its weight of water, the deer is no longer able to take long leaps and cannot extend its run be- tween the halts more than half the former distance, The Indian's tongue may hang swollen and white from his mouth, and his mouth be as dry as dust and his stomach burning with heat, but he never swps to arink. He scoops a handful of water from the stream as he dashes across it, and carries it in his mouth, where he holds it a moment and then ejects it without taking a swallow, If he is obliged to swim he Jets the water run in his mouth, but keeps it from his stomach. “After running au hour or so, alter the deer has quenched its thirst, the Indian knows it is time to find some evidence of the animal's weakening: These he is sure to find along the trail, in the shape of blood spots on some rocks where the deer has stumbled on its knees, or a patch of hair clinging to some sharp projection, showing that the deer's strength has faled so that it cannot turn quickly out of the way of obstacles, Now the Indian increases his speed. He knows that the deer's race is rac, In time he overtakes the deer, which 18 now loping feebly along. A yell startles it into a momentary buret of speed. Then, us if appreciating the fact that it were useless to prolong the race, it stops and turns with all the de- flanoce ite exhausted nature can assume,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers