!
10 '
rapturous little err, and leaving the
bouquets in their hands.
"You're welcome to them all," she
laughed, "for there un't a rose among them,
and vonder is a lovely one."
She ran to get it, and with her long in
halation of its fragrance she implanted a
kiss among its petals. Winston suspected
this was coquetry, Victor deemed it caudor,
and the girl had no thought about it; but
the found instant reason to know that it was
sot to be insignificant.
"Is the rose for ray bouquet?" Victor
asked.
"Or for mine?" said "Winston.
She was between them again, with her
wrists resting on their arms, and the rose in
the dangling hand next to Victor. He
could hardly tell whether her slight lift of
the flower was a checked impulse to give it to
him. but ber voice was careless when she
said: "There is only one of the rose, and
two of you. Shall I divide itbetweenyou?"
"The whole would be precious. Half
would be worthless," Victor muttered.
"You have turned the trifle into a token,"
laughingly, and then, with a playful air to
her real perplexity: "What shall I do? De
stroy it? No; belore we leave this place I
will award it for merit."
"A contention, eh?" exclaimed "Winston
pettishly.
"If you will," and Victor was surprised
at his own readiness to quarrel.
'Good, good," cried May, intent only on
restoring food humor. "You are antago
nists for this afternoon, remember, and it
must be an open battle for the rose but all
in a joke all for fun. The winner shall be
the one who Droves himself the best fellow.
Save your courage, sir knights. I may de
mand of you, Winston, to fight a savage
squirrel lor my sake: or of you, Victor, to
do mortal combat with a weird bat. There
mut be a struggle for the rose but not with
each other."
CHAPTER X
THE COLONEL TLATS BLOOD-RED CARDS.
On the hillside up which the excursionists
laboriouslv mounted, and from the edge ot
the lake not more than 500 feet, although it
teemed a mile as measured by their devious
steps, a jutting rock hid from theirapproach
a rude shed ot sticks and boughs. It had
been carelessly thrown together by tempo
rary campers against the crag that suddenly
barred the ascent. Beyond was a downward
slope, beginning with wildwood and merg
ing distantly into cultivated farmland.
This view was made panoramic by a preci
pice, which placed the observer on a com
manding overlook. But the two vagabonds
who held the spot at this time had not gone
there to see either the inland landscape, out
of which they had just stolen a little corn
and potatoes or the very nicely wild Lake
George, in the clean water of which their
immersion for a mere instant would hae
caused an unwonted muddiness. They were
ragged, filthy fellows, and with soggy feet
they had tramped to this seclusion to laze
away the afternoon, and to roast and eat
their insignificant pillage of honest hus
bandry. One was kindling a fire. He was
a sneaking, shambling, nerveless wretch,
and it was abjectly, in a plaintive and apol
ogetic tone, that he said:
"Canch'ee comeoutertha shed an' dosome
housewuk, Jim?"'
Life in the open air had not made a free
and fluent speaker of him. Not only was
his voice husky from chronic bronchitis, but
his vocal organ, possibly trom the frequent
expansions of damp weather and the con
traction of drouth, worked with catches and
starts that made him emit two or three
words at a mouthful. Therefore he had a
language of his own, not understandable by
am bodv unacquainted with its system of er
ratic pauses. 'Hie other. 'nliom he addressed
as Jim, and who as lying on his back under
the shelter, seemed to believe that a man who
bad such a kind of speech could not compre
hend himself without the help of a translator.
"Can't I come out ol mat suea ana uo some
dinner mv share of it nhen you've cooked
it.'
Jim slowlv stood np, yawned, stretched, and
stepped out from the shed. He was a burly
rascal, with hair and whiskers uncut and nn
combed for months, and his clothes the
sbiedaed remnants of numerous suits. Kvi
dences of three oricinal coats were viille,
while two pairs of troupers had each con
tributed a lejr, his hat brim encircled a cap,
and his toe stuck out from unmated shoes.
But his dilapidation was slightly in its way,
and if he could hare bceu transferred from
uncleanly life to inodorous canvass, he would
haveniiuca picturesque figure of asTiagr
mc bushwhacker of ill-fortune.
"Didn't I sneakthercorn and totether
potaters, Jim?" Tom continued.
"Didn't jou sneak the corn and tote the
potatoes?" Jim interpreted. "You did. And
cow you'll light a fire, cook the forage, and
wake me when dinner's icad."
Having asserted his doniinanccand indicated
a disposition to enforce it if necessary, Jim let
himself down to recumbency again, joint by
joint, like a machine that had become rusty
and still with exposure to bad weather. Tom
made a small heap of dry leaves, twigs and
stick, and carefully prepared tn strike the
only match that he possessed. The meal de
pended on the success of this operation. His
careful deliberation, his slow judgment as to
which way the almost imperceptible zephyr
came from", his close scrutiny of the match
itself, and his protective crouching attitude as
he made ready to draw the sliver of ignition
acro's a selected dry stone, so thoroughly oc
cupied him that he oil not see the arrival of
"Winston Dallas and Victor Lerojd, with May
Morns betw een them.
"We're ever so far above the lake," May
said, looking back. "Our boat looks like a toy.
Isn't it pretty?"
"We' vo left the rest of them behind with our
eight-minute pait," said Winston.
"And tired jou?" said Victor, addressing
the panting girl, and ignoring her other com
panion. "Thanks to your arms, I have been carried
about as much as I've walked. I was like a
trotter with running mates. Ob!"
The exclamation was caused by a first sight
of Tom. At the same instant Arba Van Rens
selaer came around the corner of the rock.
She had beaten Knickerbocker Knox in the
uphill race.
"O. this is the spot for our luncheon," she ex
claimed, with her remaining breath.
"Thi'spot's spottedma'am." and Tom
showed them, by turning his face their way,
that he was not a collapsed scarecrow in a
ragged heap.
But his language did not explain itself. Jim
emerged from the shed, stood in an attitude of
insolent assurance, and interpreted: "He savs
this spot is spotted, ma'ajn. He and I aroln
possession."
To that Winston airily replied: "But you'll
get out, won't you ? just to clear the scene and
the atmosphere, old chaps."
"Of course we won't, dear boy," and Jim's
dose imitation of the dandy's accent proved
that he had known other lolks than vagobonds.
"Don't be insolent" Victor broke out.
"Tnen don't you intrude on gentlemen in
their sylvan retirement," and Jim was equally
successful in copying the manner of an angry
gentleman.
May laid her hand gently on Victor's arm
with, "Let me get you oier this small diffi
culty," and then, taking out a wallet, addressed
herself to the outcast: "Now. gentlemen,
which do you prefer a dollar apiece and go,
or nothing and stay?"
"You're awfully picturesque and all that,"
Miss Van Rensselaer interposed, "but we're
not out for amateur photography. We expect
to eat here, and we prefer to impair our appe
tites with food only' She took a note from
her purse, and waving aside Victor, who made
a protesting gesture, added: "No, no: this is a
ladies' chantv exclusively a kind of mission
to the heathen."
Each young lady extends a dollar toward one
of the ragamuffins.
"Tom." said Jim. "shall we retire for consul
tation over this philanthropic proposition?"
"Nobettercollant," said Tom.
Jim was embellishing, if not accurate, in his
interpretation: ".My friend adt ises that we ac
cept jour oifer of terms for our withdrawal.
W e accept your money."
Each young lady held her banknote by its ex
treme corner, and then let go before the grimy
hand had hardly clutched it, as though the
paper might com ey pestilence if it formed for
a moment a connection between foul ind clean
fingers. As Jim bowed a "Good-day" to May,
his furtive eyes did not miss the roll of bills
that was exposed in her unclosed wallet.
"You are good diplomats, ladies," said Victor.
"They hae averted war." interposed Jim;
"we retreat peaceably."
Tom had loaded himself with the corn and
potatoes, and now he followed Jim out of
eight.
Next, the remainder of the party reached
the place, bearing the provision basket, which
the maidservant, Betsy, began to empty. While
she spread a white cloth on a flat, low boulder,
and set out thereon a variety of eatable and
drinkable things, the others roamed about.
Some climbed further up the rocks to pick
blackberries for a really local feature of the
meal, and others went after wild flowers to
decorate it. Thus there was a separation into
couples and trios for a few minutes, and the
first pair to return to de camp were Viitor and
May. The found Betsy deploring the absence
of water.
"And I'm sure, sir," she said, "the ladies and
gentlemen wouldn't like to drink claret al
together with the day to hot and all of them
o thirsty "
"So you're a temperance advocate, Betsy,"
said Victor, "and aie afraid we will take too
much claret?" . ,
"It isn't that, sir: but there's only two bottles
for eight of you, and" ...
"Then take that pail, co just beyond the hem
locks wonder, ana fill it with the water that
you'll find trickling down the rock. Come I'll
show you." . , ,
Victor took Betsy around the jut of the crag,
and pointed the way to the spring. She had no
more than disappeared, and he had turned to
go back to May. when Tom confronted him.
"O. I thought you had been bought off a
great deal further off than this," he said to the
vagabond.
Tom grinned like the snarl of a dog, and at
the same instant of Victor'B fixed attention in
front, Jim slunk up behind, reached over his
head with a twisted strip of rag, and drew it
forclblv into his mouth as a gag. Tne two
assailants bore him down, and there ho lay on
Ins back, helpless and speechless. Perfectly
clear in mind, however, in soite of the unex
pectedness of the attack, he bethought himself
to lie quiet for a moment, and then try to sur
prise the scoundrels by a sudden struggle. The
ruse part of the plan w as successful.
"Hold him down, Tom." whispered Jim,
"and keep the gag In, while I go for the girl's
wad."
Then Victor unaerstood that May's careless
exposure of the rich contents of her wallet bad
tempted these fellows to robbery. His own
Slight was forgotten in his alarm forher safety,
iut he remained calm from intention, and
supine because he could not do otherwise. Jim
tied the gag securely, and placed Tom astride
the captive's breast, with a hsnd holding down
each arm. Then Jim started hurriedly toward
the spot, which was out of sight, where May
was nnsupectingly alone.
If the muscular and energetic Jim had stayed
to keep the prisoner, and sent Tom to rob the
girl, the foray might have been prosperous.
And if Victor had remained non-resistant half
a minute longer, until left with one captor his
outbreak might have been successful. Bnt an
impulse to go to the rescue of the girl he loved
overcame the wannoss that ho could have
practiced on his own account, and with a
wnthe and a bound he was on his feet, while
Tom went sprawling.
"Bobbers! help! help!" Victor cried, with
the gag torn away from his mouth.
Jim mired back at the tirst noise of the
scuffle. He had not gone a dozen paces, and
ho was upon Victor as soon as he had freed
himself. An open Knife was in Jim's hand.
"Shut up or I'll cut you," he said.
"Help! help!" and with the outcry Victor
threw himself upon his armed antagonist.
But courage and brawn were no mitch for
the blade ot an assassin. There were three
rapid, vicious stabs, and Victor dropped down,
with his alarm cries sinking into silence.
"Roll him oter the ledge if he stirs," com
manded Jim to Tom. "and I'll go for the girl.
We've got to hustle."
Jim ran to May, who had heard Victor's
shouts, and to w bom the robber's appearance,
with a flerco imprecation and a grab of her
wallet, was appalling. She fell in an uncon
scious faint, and Jim turned for flight, only to
find himself confronted by Colonel Dallas and
Winston, who had come hurriedlv from oppo
site directions in response to the calls for help.
With all the ferocity of a beast at bay, but
also with the quick, keen perception of an ac
customed marauder, Jim undertook to fight
his way to an escape. His instant judgment
was correct that Winston would offer least re
sistance, and he sprang toward bim.
"Grab him, Winnie; grab him," the Colonel
cried.
"He's got a knife, dad," and the young man
cleared the wav promptly.
But Colonel Sam Dllas was no coward, even
though his bravery had been applied to illicit
purposes, and had not descended to bis son.
He sprang after Jim, seized him by the wrists,
wrestled violently with him, and at length
threw him flat. The knife had somehow gone
from Jim's hand to the Colonel's (the gambler
would have scorned himself for "losing in the
deal"), and was held over the prostrate fellow's
heart. , ,
"Jim Grimes!" the Colonel exclaimed, in as
tonished but unagitated recognition of an old
acquaintance. "What's brought you down to
this sort of work?"
"All of us haven't your luck to back our
brains," was the sullen replv.
"There's blood on this knife. Wbathave you
doner
"Killed a friend of yours, I guess the chap
that was with the girl. He foughtus like abnll
dog. Yonr party's coming. Let me go for old
time's sake."
"Where is he?"
"Out there on the edge of theledge, or down
at the bottom."
Colonel Dallas was a rapid thinker. That
was partly a natural gift and partly a pro
fessional acquirement. He knew that May
Morris, who still lav on the ground, had been
robbed, and he realized in a flash that, if Victor
Lerovd had beea her defender, Ins bou's
chances with the heiress might be ruined
thereby.
"Go quick quick," he said to the inert
"Winston, and bv an imperative tone, rousing
him to celerity; "go and see."
Winston was away and back again, to report:
"Victor is lying at the foot of the precipice,
and he look's dead."
"Here's the swac," Jim pleaded, rising on
one elbow, and proffering May's wallet to the
Colonel; "take it, and let me off."
"You may go," was the astounding reply,
"and take the money if you obey me."
"Well."
"Pav close attention to every word I say, and
back "it up. Do that, and I swear I'll see that
you escape before we get you down to the
lake,"
"How do I know you'll do it?"
'Take mv word or take your chance of
hanging which you please."
"Your word goes, Colonek"
The sclf-possc-sion of this master of the sit
uation was not in harmony with the seemingly
crazy thing that ho coollj did next. He held
out the knife toward Winston, saying. "Take
it." But the blood-stained blade was an untidy
object to the fastidious young man. and his ex
tended hand waited for the handle to be
proffered. Instead of that the Colonel struck
with the weapon into his son's palm, making a
slight but copiously bleeding cut across it.
"What the devil ' began Winston's com
plaint at this.
"Hush," was the stern command, as the rest
of the party came in a flurry, with anxious
queries as to what was the matter. Tbcy
clustered first around May, whom thev aroustd
to consciousness, and who was almost as
ignorant as they about what had occurred.
The Colonel now abandoned his stoicism, and
let his anxiety show itself, but in a clecrly
misleading wav. He said, with a show of great
excitement: "The matter is that two fellows
robbed Miss Morris. My son caught them at
it, drove one away, and captured this mis
creant." The crouching Jim began to doubt the se
curity of his position, but he could not alter it,
and he dumbly waited while Winston, already
comprehending the drift of his father's lie,
wrapped a handkerchief delicately around his
wounded hand,tbns eliciting expressions of com
miseration from the ladles.
"The pocketbook did they get it?" the com
mercial instinct of Mr. Pootle asked.
Jim gripped the wallet in his ragged pocket,
and wondered if he would have to give it up;
but the Colonel said with a contemptuous kick
at him:
"I've searched this one. His companion
must have got off with it,"
"That is of no consequence." May interposed;
and then concernedly to Winston: "Are you
badlv hurt?"
"Only a prick of the knife," in amock heroic
tone.
"liravc boy," and the Colonel patted him af
fectionately on the back. "Brave boy." Then
Jim got another kick. "You villain to attack
him with a knife."
"I had to. or he'd have bested me," Jim
whined, remembering the bargain, under which
he was to confirm whatever the Colonel said.
"And there were two of you two to one."
"He was as good as a dozen."
"Where is Victor?" May exclaimed. He was
with me here. Then I heard him call 'Bobbers'
and 'Help' before I fainted."
"I am afraid" the Colonel began.
"He's killed?" cried Mr. Pootle.
"O, f fancy he is safe. This fellow says he
ran aw a v." "
"Yes," Jim obediently echoed; "he ran off
scared." "I can't believe Victor Leroyd is a coward,"
"Winston remarked, making his suggestion
adroitly.
"Victor a coward?" May repeated, in depre
cation. "He was a sneak, sure enough," Jim sullenly
affirmed, beginning to see what was wanted for
his liberty: 'and if this chap," indicating Win
ston, "had scooted the same way. the job
wouldn't have been half spoiled, as 'tis."
Although Winston and Jim were alert and
helpful in the unrehearsed scene, it was Sam
Dallas who did the really able acting. His im
itation of emotion was deceptive to even
Sheeba.
"Thank God," he cried, as fervently as those
two words were ever spoken by anybody, "my
son played the hero, not the coward."
"I am astonished," said Sheeba.
"At Victor's cowardice?" said Mrs. Pootle.
"It is hard to believe."
"I won't beiieve it," said Mr. Pootle boister
ously. The Colonel deemed it necessary to strengthen
bis fiction, and he said to Jim, with a savagery
that almost deceived him:
"Coine. tell tho truth did the other young
man run away when you attacked him?"
"He legged it as though the devil was after
him," was Jim's humble response.
Then Winston thought it well to be a little
faint, and to squeeze a drop of blood from his
enwrapped hand, w hich drew the others around
him, except the Cplonel, who gripped the still
crouching robber as though to hold him, but
reallv to whisper to him:
"When I let you go, find that man and finish
him if he isn't dead already. Thai's your only
safety. Conceal the body it must never be
found or the hangman shall find yon."
fcimultaneoulv with this disposal of Victor
Leroyd as a dead coward the somewhat bewil
dered Winston Dallas stole the reward of valor.
The rose that the young men had within an
hour asked of May Morris, and which she had
jocosely promised to award for merit, was still
at her breast. Gravely and gently she handed
it to Winston.
(Concluded next Sunday.)
Copyright, 1SS9, bv Franklin File.
,THE
DAEING EED EIDEES.
Captain King Tells of Eemarkable
Feats in Indian Horsemanship.
FAULTY SADDLES'AND CRUEL BITS
The Chief Drawbacks to Expert American
Equestrianism.
VALUABLE HINTS TOR HORSEMEN
WIUTTEX FOB THE DlSrATCn.l
FEW years ago one of
the very tbest disserta
tions on the points of
American versus English
horsemanship that ever
came under my notice
appeared in, I think,
Harper's Magazine un
der the caption of "An
International Episode,"
or perhaps "An Inter
national Affair." It is
told bv an American who
had ridden for years over
the plains of the "West
and the "faldas" of the
foothills in Sonthern Cal
ifornia. He goes ahroad,
taking with him his fa
vorite horse, "Cholooke,"
and while in England
visits the country seat oPa gentleman, with
whose daughter he falls in love. So, too,
does an English captain of cavalry, who
owns and rides a superb bay hunter Tie calls
"Inkerman." They ride a race, in which
the Englishman leads most of the way, but
is left far behind when they come to a long,
steep descent. Here, true to the teachings
ot his school, the captain reins in and, lean
ing back in saddle, checks Inkerman's
speed to a comparatively slow and cautious
canter. The American, on the contrary,
has been holding back until this stretch is
reached, and then, though beaten on the
level and across hedge and ditch, he
astounds his rival and spectators by giving
Cholooke his head, shouting "Gol" and
sending him at top sfieed down the steep and
out on the flats beyond, landing an easy
winner.
LOOTS KOLAS 'S FEAT.
Xow this was not an exceptional feat;
neither was it one only attempted in
America. Captain Louis Nolan of the
English Light Cavalry did practically the
same thing when he bore Lord Baglan's
order to the Earl of Lucan on the fatal day
of Balaclava. Klnglake tells us that in
stead of availing himself ot the road wind
ing down from the Sapoune Heights, on
which were grouped the "commander ot the
forces" and his stau, tne young nussar gal
loped straight down the slope from the
elevation of some COO fept, and so "sweoped
angering down" upon the hesitant division
general below. But it is and was excep
tional in the English cavalry, and few
very few men but Louis Nolan would have
attempted it. He was the most daring and
accomplished horseman of them all.
It is exceptional in the American cavalry,
in which are hundreds of bold and skillful
riders. It is practically forbidden in the
schools, and 1 never yet have met and rid
den with a civilian who did not rein in and
check his horse whenever we came to a sud
den descent in the road, or to a steep slope
when coursing antelope or "jack rabbits"
on the prairies of the great "West. Nine out
ot ten of our cavalrv officers; will do the
same to-day, especially it ,they be "heavy
weights," and yet I have watched horsemen
dav after day who never thought of 6uch a
thing, who darted down hill full tilt, giving
their steeds their heads as they did so, and,
simply leaning back a little, rode with loose
rein down every and any kind of slope at a
speed that almost took one's breath away to
watch it. These were the mounted warriors
the Indians of the Northern Plains.
DARING SIOUX RIDERS.
On the afternoon of September 9, 1876,
when the noted Sioux chieftain. Crazy
Horse, swooped down with 700 or 800 braves
to the attack of General Crook's command
at Slim Buttes, Dak,, these daring riders
dashed into view from behind a high ridge
to the west of our picket lines and charged
down a steep slope at top speed, yelling like
demons as they came. There was one point
of bluff around which a trail led down into
a deep ravine. It was a mere buffalo track
or game trail on which they had to ride in
single file, but, one after another, I counted
at least 50 warriors who shot around that
point on their nimble ponies and plunged
at a gallop down an incline, steep as the
"Horseneck Stairs" where stout old.'Israel
Putnam left the British dragoons in revolu
tionary days. jj
That year of '70 the Crows and Snoshsnes
were our allies and several hundred of them
were with the column. They rode down
hill as daringly as the Siouxand Cheyennes
and, when it came to climbing up, never
dismounted to ease or aid their horses. "We
cavalrymen, on the contrary, "slowed up"
going down, and generally dismounted go
ing up mainly, it is true, t save our worn
out charters, but the Indians laughed at us.
They pointed out that a horse or any other
quadruped scampered up or down a slope
without slack or hesitation. Why shonld
we fear to let them do ns they would unen
cumbered by bridle or rider? "We were
aln ays taught to "haul taut" on the rein
and uo to raise the horse's head when going
down hill. "What's the use?" asked the
Indians. "You only prevent his seeing the
ground and so make a stumble the more
likely." It led to a, change of principles on
part of several of bur number and we
found that common sense was on the Indian
side of the question, and that, barring a
certain jar, it was as easy to ride at the
gallop down hill, when occasion required it,
as on the level. The rule to the contrary is
very probably a mere precaution against the
severity of the accident should a stumble oc
cur. FAULTT SYSTEM OF SADDLING.
But there is one formidable reason why
our cavalrymen cannot and should not ride
at speed down hill. It is not the horse. It
is not the rider. It is the fact that for the
last 30 years, if not longer, the trooper of
the United States has been taught an ut
terly faulty system of saddling. The Indian
saddle is the simplest kind of a light wooden
tree with very high pommel and cantle.
The Indian bridle is the simplest-kind of a
single-rein, snaffle-bit affair, that allows the
horse lull control of his own head at all
gaits. Our bridle is good enough,xbut the
bits are atrocities. Our saddle as now made
is probably as simple, serviceable and ex
cellent an affair for military purposes as
will be found in any army in the world.
But here is the flaw. " In the instruction
for saddling in the cavalry tactics of the
United States we find these words: "Place
the saddle on the horse's back, well forward
on the withers." Now, the fore legs of the
horse have to sustain much more of his
weight than the hind legs at any time; but,
saddle him as prescribed, "well forward on
the withers," and load that saddle with 200
pounds of rider, arms and equipments and
you have at once the explanation wbv 00
out of 100 of our cavalry horses break down
in front. The English saddle, with its long
flat seat, brings the weighfof the rider well
back on what may be called the .center of
motion of the horse. The cavalry saddle,
with the forked seat, brings the weight of
the heavily equipped trooper in Iront of that
point and" bearing down almost entirely
upon those overloaded fore 'legs. jNow to
keep the saddle there it must be tightly
girthed or a breast strap be worn. JThe reg
ulations provide no breast strap; hence a
rigid band is braced tightly around the
chest and lungs of the horse, and he cannot
expand them if he would. Start any ath
lete on a race with his chest firmly girthed
by a leathern strap and what sort of work
will he make of it? Have yon never no
ticed in saddling your borse-even with the
PITTSBURG DISPATCH,
English saddle hW the moment you begin
to pull on the stwrrfhe begins to "swell visi
bly," like MrWeller's lady friend at the
tea drinking of the Union Grant! Junction
Ebenezer Temperance" Association? It is
his protest against the absurdity ot the
whole thing. He isimnly trying to retain
tor himself the power of lung expansion of
which you would deprive him, and without
which he is incapable of doing his best
work.
HOW DANGER tIS DOUBLED.
But if this position of the army saddle
and this cruel "cinching" of the girth be
faulty for riding on the level, how mani
festly do they -double the danger of rapid
riding down hill. With all the weight in
front and nothing behind, it is simply a
wonder the horse doesn't turn somersaults.
The Indian puts his saddle so does the
rauci man and the cowboy where the
weight will come on the middle of the horse's
back, and beyond doubt the next Tactics of
our cavalry will modify a rule that among
all thinking troop commanders has long
since become a dead letter. Major Sanger,
of the artillery, one of our most distin
guished light battery commanders, and
Captain Hall, of the Fifth Cavalry, have
strenuously urged the change and proved its
utility, and with the saddle in its proper
place and with a light bridle-hand and a
cool head, there is no reason why our trooper
should not rival the Indian in up and down
hill riding. As for the riders or the English
school, or the American city schools and the
English or Whitman (American) saddle,
there is no good reason why the speed should
be slackened at the slope, except for mere
fundamental considerations.
There are some other points about Indian
horsemanship that deserve mention here.
To begin with he always mounts from the
off (right) side of his horse, instead of the
nearside as we do. The only real reason
why the cavalryman has not been tanght
for centuries to mount from both sides is
that his saber, swinging from the waist belt
on his own left side, was in the way. Now
that we are attaching the saber to the saddle
instead of the trooper, it will probably lead
to practice on both sides. West Point has
already begun it. The Indian, once in his
saddle, wrapped in his blanket, is a de
pressing sight. He sits bunched up on his
pony, his knees way no, his feet thrust far
into stirrups not unlike those of ladies' sad
dles. He looks utterly
AWKWARD AND UNGRACEFUL
as he jogs along, flapping perpetually with
his wooden-handled whip lashes at the right
flank of his steed; but the instant he cle.irs
for action, throws off his blanket and darts
out over the prairie, he is transfigured.
More daring, graceful, swaying horseman
ship it would be almost impossible to con
ceive of. You forget the hunched-up knees
in the freedom and flexibility of his lithe,
painted body. You marvel at the cat-like
agility with which ho bounds on or off his
dashing pony, ducks under or down on
either side, firing under his neck as he
whirls across the springy turf, but you have
only to remember that ifisall second nature
to him. He began to ride the moment he
Pwas loosenea irom me dodusoi me pappoose
bnarH nnd hns been at it ever since. Manv
of them, especially among the Snakes or
hoshones, are wofnlly bow-legged as a con
sequence and most ungainly Dipeas wnen
afoot.
Talking a few davs since with an enthusi
astic horseman a New Yorker who did his
country valiant service in the war days un
der Buford and Merritt he said that as
regularly as the morning came aronnd when
he was at home, he mounted his horse, made
the circuit of the bridle path in Central
Park, beginning at a rapid trot, increasing
to the "lope," giving his steed a glorious
run near the reservoir and then, gradually
slackening speed, get back to his door in 30
minutes, all in a glow and with an appetite
for breakfast. Needless to say when that
gentleman pays his visits to the West he
rides witn cavalryman or cowboy on equal
terms and enjoys a vigor of health and a
steadiness of nerve that are sonrces of envy
to metropolitan friends who are less ener
getic There is no exercise on the face of
the globe that combines so much that is ad
mirable as that to be obtained in the saddle.
CirARLES King, TJ. S. A.
. ;
K0 UilBRELLA, NO ROBBERS.
Reasons Why Overshoes nro Not Worn by
Some Men In Wet Weather.
NewTrork faun. J
The tendency on the part of men to aban
don the use of umbrellas and depend on
the mackintosh for protection from rain
has a counterpart in the lately developed
habit of many men to give up the use of
rubber overshoes. Undoubtedly there are
more "rubbers," "goloshes," or "gums," as
you prefer to call tbem, made now than a
few years ago, but all the same there are
thousands of men in New York now who
don't wear overshoes who did wear them
several years ago.
"I won't wear an overshoe," says a man
who is out in all kinds of weather, "for
I've tried both plans, and I find it healthier
to co without them. Six years ago I wore
rubbers even in a summer rain, but to-day
I won't wear them even in such wet
weather as we have had of late. The over
shoe is cumbersome. If jou go within
doors and wait even ten minutes or more
without taking off the rubber shoe the effect
will be unpleasant. You may not have a
headache that night, but if for a number of
rlavs vou cover vour leather shoe with the
impervious rubbers and keep the rubbers on J
lor a lengin oi time uie cnances are nine out
of ten that you will get to feeling dull and
have a sick headache Besides, if your
overshoes gets cut on the sole while in use
it is apt to get lull of water or slush aud
subject yonr shoe to such a soaking that
the leather will be ruined or you will have
wet feet"
"How do you get along without rub
bers?" "Have you got thick-soled shoes, with
soft durable uppers. See that the shoe is
oiled when new, and once a month alter
ward. Don't have-so much oil put on that
it will be hard to polish; in tact, the oil
must be used onlyto make the leather pli
able. Wear thes'e shoes on Monday if it
rains or shines. Have another pair for
Tuesday. Have another pair for Wednes
day. Then on Thursday wearfthe first pair,
on Friday the second on Saturday the
third pair, and then begin all over again.
Always have three pairs of shoes in con
stant use. Don't wear any pair twodays in
succession. If it rains, go out feeling that
the thick leather will throw off the ,water;
be wise enough to avoid puddle, change
vour shoes at night and you won't need rub
bers; you won't have colds, you won't have
headaches, and you'll be happier in many
ways. The heavy-soled shoes may cost a
little more than those vou are now wearing,
but the difference will be saved by the
Riving up of from three to six pairs of rub
bers used in a year. Even if the anti-rubber
system should cost a trifle more you can
afford it, for the miserable effect of the
rubbers upon the circulation of the blood in,
your feet will be done away with, and that
is worth paying for."
On the Other Side.
The Countess of Marlsea It won't be long,
my dear, before you'll lose that slight
American twang and become a thorough
going Briton.
Her daughter-in-law Hi 'opes you think
Hl'm trying me best, me Ieddy. Judge.
SUflDAT, JANUARY
A BOY MILLIONAIRE.
Daily Life of a Juvenile Heir of a
New York Merchant Prince.
A DISPUTE WITH HIS FATHER.
Persecuted bj Alaids and Perpetually
Imprisoned.
VIEWS THE WORLD THROUGH WINDOWS
COBBZSPONDENCE OF THE DISPATCH.
E W YORK, January 18.
When the stocky and
rubicund form of Mr.
Billington, of the great
drygoods firm of Billing
ton & Johnsing, emerged
from his dressing room
yesterday morning it was
nearly 8 o'clock. The
millionaire was clean
shaven, his white mutton
chop whiskers were care
fully combed out and his
bulging figure was clad
in a frock suit, of which
an immaculate white waistcoat was a prom
inent feature. He coughed importantly and
started down toward the breakfast room
when the noise of a terrific uproar in the
nursery reached his ears.
"M'rinr," yelled the millionaire suddenly,
"what's all the racket about?"
"It's little Algy, sir," piped one of the
maids, looking hurriedly and affrightedly
over the banister at the head of the stairs.
"He's fightin' his French nuss, sir."
31r. Billington paused and devoted his
brain to a heavy contemplation of the exist
ing condition of affairs. Then he stamped
heavily upstairs toward the nursery. It
was the first time that he had gone above
the first floor for a year, and the ominous
tread of his feet sent the wide-eyed maids
hurrying in different directions. One of
them loitered the windows hastily in com
pliment tn the well-known fondness of the
master of the house for fresh air, while an
other whisked stray garments out of sight
and muttered a series of polite and remon
strative French phrases to the heir of the
house of Billington.
When the father entered the nursery the
boy stood in front of the fire rubbing his
tousled head with both of his hands and
scowling fiercely at the Freneb nurse.
A FRENCH ESSAT.
"I won't have it," he was remarking
tersely in a savage juvenile way. "When
vou mean here, why don't you say here?
What's the good of yelling ici at me all the
time? Anybody knows ici means here and
here means" ici an' why not say so?"
"The French langwidge, my son," said
the father with ponderous kindliness, "is
necessary for your edication. You should
be more polite to Nannette. If you will be
a good boy and will dress quickly, you may
breakfast with me."
"Oh, may I?" said the boy'with intense
sarcasm.
"Yes, my boy," said the father benevo
lently. Only you will have to be quick,
you know, for I've got to start for the store
at eight-thutty."
Then the head of the house walked over
to where the tno nurses stood bowing in the.
corner, and said:
"Kindliness will do more than force.
Treat the children gently. Teach them to
love you and then they will obey."
After this he pursued his way with un
ruffled dignity downstairs and entered the
dining room with the air of a man who has
performed a good morning's work. The two
maids threw themselves warily upon Al
gernon and eventually succeeded in forcing
that kicking and struggling youngster into
the raimenfof the day. There were some
bruised shins and one or two scratches as
souvenirs of the morning enconnter, and
then the boy in a sleek Lord Fauntleroy
suit and with a smug expression upon his
solemn little face descended the stairs
quietly and was lifted into a seat opposite
that occupied by his father at the table.
"Have some steak, Algy?" asked his
father amiably.
"Noap."
"Why, my son, you had better eat some
steak."
"I won't."
"It'll make you strong and healthy."
"Well, I won't eat it just the same."
It was the first time that the millionaire
had conversed with his son at any length
for six months, and he looked at the boy
again in deep meditation.
A CONFLICT.
"Will you have some cakes with gravy?"
"No.ip. I want a glass of milk and some
buttered toast to dip into it."
"Oh, that's nursery food," said Mr. Bill
ington tersely and in some heat. "Here,
take this."
He hacked off a piece of steak, flanked it
with cakes, mush and rolls and sent it
across the table to the boy by a servant.
The boy looked at it critically, then pushed
the plate away from him petulantly, and
said he would have milk and toast or noth
ing. "Well, then, you'll have nothing," said
the lather, growing somewhat red in the
face and choking over the last mouthful oi
steak.
"Do you know what yon do?" said the
son, looking his father coldly in the eye.
"No," replied his father defiantly.
"You make me tired," said Algernon.
Thereupon Mr. Billington reached across
the table, seized the boy's hand and slapped
it very hard three or four times. The boy
whimpered and sank back in his chair.
One of his hands was clutching the napkin
nervously as he glared at his father through
his tears. Then suddenly and without a
word of warning he seized a glass of water
which was near him and dashed it across
the table squarely at the snowy waistcoat
and immaculate shirt front of the head of
the great house of Billington and Johnsing.
The millionaire was drenched to the skin.
The boy slid down from his chair scudded
around the table and dashed upstairs at a
great rate of speed, while the servants hur
ried to the assistance of the great drygoods
prince. He could not speak but he stalked
upstairs and made a few remarks to the
boy's mother, who never rose before noon,
which were heard by everybody in the house.
Then he was obliged to change all of his
clothing and the result was that he arrived
at the "store" late for the first time in 15
years.
Meanwhile young Algernon had rolled
in between the scuttle and the roof on a
series of exceedingly dirty beams and lay
therelistening quietly to the uproar below.
His velvet Lora Fauntleroy suit looked like
a dustman's when he crawled out half an
hour later to face the music in his mother's
room.
MATERNAL DESPAIR.
Mrs. Billington regarded her infant son
with commisseration not unmixed with de
spair. He was evidently a problem with
which she was not only out of sympathy,
but also wholly inadequate to cope with. Sfie
stared at him lor a moment, asked what he
had been doing to his dear, kind father, and
then told the nurse to take him off and
spank him and put him in a dark closet for
an hour. The alacrity with which this pro
gramme was carried out proved that the
popularity of the young millionaire in his
own househould was not very great. That
the punishment broke his spirit was evi
denced by the fact that the whimpers and
sighs from the dark closet were kept up in
cessantly through the whole of the long and
dreary hour.
Then the child glued his nose to the win
dow and watched the poorer youngsters of
the neighborhood riding bicycles and play
ing about in the sunshine, and he went
down and asked his mother for the thou
sandth time if he could join them.
"Certainly not," said Mrs. Billington se
verely. "I have told you so often that you
ought to know by this time that you are not
to associate with the Robinson and Green
children, and you never go out In the street
but what you are hand in- glove with them.
20, 1889:
Go and play in the nursery until 4 o'clock,
and then I will take you to drive with me."
The boy wandered downstairs to the
library and put in the rest of the time until
4 o'clock looking at the crowd on Fifth ave
nue. Every few moments he would forsake
his post of observation to ask his mother if
be conld go to the stable and see John, into
the cellar and see the kittens, or walk
around and visit his aunt on the block
below. The answer was an invariable nega
tive, and he did nothing but mope around
until it was time to be dressed and have his
hair curled in long ringlets by Nannette for
the afternoon drive. As it was a dusty day,
and Mrs. Billington's countenance was ot
that peculiar mud-hue which renders wear
ing a vail a dangerous thing to do for fear
of being mistaken tor a mulatto, that lady
decided to drive in her brougham.
Little Algy sat primly beside her for the
first mile, as they lumbered heavilv through
the park, and then leaning forward took up
his post of observation by the window.
AS THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY.
"It seems to me," he said to his mother
with an air of great profundity, "that I
spend about all my life lookin' out ' win
dows. I'm worth a million dollars and I
can't get any fresh air."
"Who told you that you were worth a
million dollars?" asked the mother sharpl.
"Nannette."
"Well, she ought to be ashamed of her
self," was the maternal comment. "You
are worth just exactly what your father
"wants to give you, and if you are not a
good boy you wan't have anything at all."
"It doesn't make any difference to me,"
said the boy calmly., '"I'm simply waiting
until I get big enough and then I'll get out
of this family as quick as anything in the
world."
"DO take your feet off my dress," said tho
mother absently. "You never get into the
carriage but you use me for a doormat."
The boy went on picturing in his mind
the things he would do when he got old
enough to run away, and so the drivo passed
in the same eternal dreaming which consti
tuted the greater part of his life.
When he returned to the house a lank
and volatile gentleman of French parent
age was waiting to give the boy his music
lessons. The musician talked with un
swerving persistency, and occassionally
played five-finger exercises on the piano.
After half an hour of this sort of thing, he
put the sulky little boy on the mnsic stool
and asked hiin to play the exercises. The
child only pretended to push down the keys,
and after'the necessary time had elapsed
the professor bade him a cheery adieu and
pranced ont of the house.
At this moment Nannette appeared and
lugged the boy off again to the nursery.
Here a large and heavy-browed German
woman sat with several books spread before
her. Opposite was a small chair. Alger
non was lifted bodily into the chair. He
gazed helplessly at the face of the stoul
German woman while she entered into a
long and profound analysis of the different
forms which the article takes in German
vi hen it proceeds a noun ot a certain (render.
Her talk would have been too abstruse and
profound for a bov of 15 years, and the child
opposite her simply looked hopelessly into
here face and said nothing. At the end
ot the lesson she repeated a number of Ger
man words, and he mumbled them after
her. It went on for nearly three quarters
of an hour, and then the German teacher,
feeling that she had done her duty, arose
and departed in the footsteps of the music
master.
A RICH BOY'S WOE.
The boy went downstairs and was allowed
to sit beside his mamma, while she took tea
with several gossiping friends who came in
at 5 o'clock. To each one Mrs. Billington
rehearsed the episode ot the glass of water at
breakfast until the boy grew weary of the
very name of his father. When the mill
ionaire himself returned home he was in a
state of mind that set the whole household
in a tremor. To begin wrong in business
means a day of disaster. Everything had
gone wrong at the "store," Mr." Billington
was sure he had caught rheumatism of the
heart irom the ducking he received in the
mornintr. and Algernon again' came to the
front for punishment. He ate his dinner
with his face to the wall in the nursery, and
at 8 o'clock he was tagging slowly through
the lofty and dusky hall toward bed, when
he ran into his only friend in the honse
the old negro cook.
"Gnuffman heah!" said the woman, hast
ily, as the little figure brushed against her;
then, stooping, she grabbed the child in her
strong arms and hugged him tight. "Why,
Lawd, Algy," she said, warmly, "I thot y'u
was de dog. Whad's de mattah, chile? Y'u
ain't cryin' ag'in, is yer? Wh' fo' y'u cry
eh. wh' fo'?"
"They keeps nagin' me so, auntie,"
sobbed the bov, nestling down in her arms,
"that I wish I was dead."
"Shure 'nuff," said the cook, sadly; "dey
do nag y'u. People talk 'bout bein' bawn
rich Lawd, if y'u wuz - ppre man's so' y'u
be one uv de happiest little kids on yearth.
Come down in de kitchen."
But this was not to be, for Nannette ap
peared and the struggl.ng young millionaire
was lugged off and put to bed innursery and
tears. At least one little boy in New York
wished for poverty that night.
Blakelt Hall.
REBUKED BI A MINISTER'S WIFE.
The DnnBPr of Gossiping in n Street Car
About People Yon Don't Know.
Philadelphia News.3
It was in a street car. Three ladies were
engaged in conversation. Their subject was
church matters and church people. Among
the latter was the wile of the pastor of one
of the leading Methodist congregations in
the city. Tne ladies said a good many
things about her, some flattering and others
decidedly otherwise; some things that were
true aud others that she would not have
been willing to admit to be true. For
nearly half an hour thegossipers plied their
avocation, and, as the interest arose, so did
the pitch of their voices. All the time a
lady sat opposite them in the car and quiet
ly watched them. When one ot the gossips
remarked that she had never seen the
pastor's wife referred to and the others ex
pressed a desire to see her, the silent
watcher smiled. After awhile the ear
reached the point where the lady wished to
alight. She arose, but before starting to
ward the door laid her hand on the arm of
one of the three who were engaged in
conversation, and, with a self-possessed
smile, said:
"Ladies.you have expressed a desire to
see me. Here I am. I have too keen a
sense of hnmor to leave the car without
telling yon I am the lady you have been
talking about. Now, let me give you a
little sensible advice. The next time you
are in a street car don't talk so loudly, for
someone might bear you who would not
enjoy it as hugely as I have. Good after
noon." The lady left the car and the faces of
the gossiperswere a picture of astonishment
and discomfiture. The other passengers
smiled.
Time la Monejr.
Mr. B.J5. McHnrry's ingenious time-saving
scheme of simultaneously getting a
shave, his luncheon, a shine, and his mental
recreation. Puck.
A BEAUTY'S TRAINING
It Shonld Begin Early and be Fol
lowed Systematically.
NO NEED FOR AWKWARD AIRS
If Girls Are Given .the Proper Kind
Food and Opportunities frr
PLEJfTI OP EXERCISE IN THE OPEN AIR
rwittTTEf rOB TOT DISPATCH. 1
OTJTH is a critical
period, yet with
watchful care from S
to 15 almost any boy
or girl will turn out
worth looking at the
rest of life, provided
yoa can make him
obey directions. But
if they have imbibed
the popular version
that parents have no
right to interfere with
the'preferences of chil
dren, if they refuse to seethe dentist in time
and forget toothbrushes, if they will overeat
at dessert and put themselves to as little
trouble in the way of washing themselves as
possible, they will have irregular teeth.
heavy faces and dnll skins. Books can very
well be let alone the first eight years, which
are none too much to devote to drill in per
sonal habits and refinements.
The hair is the first care from the time the
sunshiny down begins to glisten on the
baby's head. It seems altogether likely
that the old plan of having babies and thin
haired children wear caps of linen lawn is a
good one. Little bald pates must be sensi
tive, and delicatn children carry this sensi
tiveness a good while. It denotes sensibility
of brain and disposition to eerebral dis
orders, which need not alarm the parent, for
in these cases forewarned is forearmed. The
beautitul and gifted Sarah Coleridge writes
some recollections of her childhood which
are significant to mothers. She was poorly
and moping in her first years of childhood J
even in her uncle Southey s big generous
house. One day, as she sat on her low
stool, the picture of woe, her kindly aunt
asked what was the matter, to which came
the wail, "It's miserable!" "Well, you
will be miserable," siys homely Aunt
Tricker, "if your mother doesn't put you on
a cap," and a close cap of lawn accordingly
Sarah wore the next years to her great con
tent. Probably she had earache and neu
ralgia in the head to account for her low
spirits.
THE MISERIES OP CHILDHOOD.
It is unaccountable how much misery
children will bear without knowing enough
to complain of it or ask for relief. Thin
haired children take comfort in wearing
caps, which protect the growth of hair, bnt
they would oppress a child with thick locks.
The wearing caps at an early age is tradi
tional from the lace coif of Louis XV. at
ten months to the blue cloth hoods of German
babies, which seem born with them and in
separable, while for the rest they are con
tent with very abbreviated shirts.
Wash children's heads with the alkaline
yolk of raw egg beaten in rain water, rins
ing it off well, but do not dress the hair
with water every time it is brushed. Use
thin bandoline, which will keep the hair
in place all day, or else vaseli ne. which the
hair quickly absorbs all ' it will
take, when it should be wiped off with
a bit of flannel to avoid greasiness. Teach
children to fose the brush five to ten min
utes night and morning. Briskly used this
is all the stimulus the scalp will bear.
Girls should loosen their hair at night, or
when convenient, and let the air blow
through it, brushing and combing it in a
current of air to carry off dust and emana
tions. This care and a clean scalp will give
strongly rooted locks, not given to falling
at any nervous disorder. If the hair is very
thin, "don't cut it to thicken it. There are
probably as many dormant bulbs in the
scalp as there are full grown hairs, waiting
only moderate irritation of the skin and
vigor ot the child tn start them growing.
Girls who desire thick hair and boy3 who
want mustaches ought to take hypophos
phites or the vitalized phosphates in some
shape, remembering that a little of these
things is good, but it does not follow that
more is better.
DIET COLORS THE HAIR.
Food has more to do with the color and
thickness of the hair than is generally sus
pected. It is probable that the incessant
diet of oatmeal and milk, eaten by the Low
land Scotch, causes the tint white locks so
frequent among them, while the black
Highlanders gained their color from living
tor generations on deers' flesh. The free use
of grape juice and sweet cider tends to
darken the hair in youth, and the old
fashioned tonic of rnsty nails in cider shows
its effects in the darkening of pale eyebrows
and lashes, if toilet care is not forgotten.
But one must be careful not to overdo trials
of this kind. Haifa glass of sourcider and
iron rust three times a day, half an hour be
fore meals, just when the faintness of
hunger begins, is enough for a child or
delicate woman.
As to eating for the complexion, the
brown bread and syrup breakfast and sup
pers produce beautiful skins and flesh that
looks as if it had the grain ot marble. But
the syrup must be rcboiled and skimmed
well, lor most of the modern sweets, whether
of maple or cane, are so thinly made as to
ferment easily, causing extreme acidity of
digestion, the worst thing ibr health, looks
or temper. Thin, pale children with watery
blue eyes must be kept from this pernicious
state of things by taking charcoal lozenges
or carbonate of ammonia, or the old domes
tic drink of ash water, which as a cure for
indigestion or dyspepsia is far too good to
be lost. It is made by pouring a quart of
boiling water on five heaping spoonfuls of
clean wood ashes, allowing it to settle, and
taking half a cupful of the water at the
meals, or when acidity is felt. This pre
vents many ailments of children, including
Simples, and regulates the kidneys, which
ave their influence on complexion, corpu
lence and growth of hair.
PURE WATER A NECESSITY.
Then, to have healthy, clearfaced chil
dren, the water used not only lor drinking
hut lor all food must be pure and preferably
soft. The scare about filters returning im
purities to the water is. overdone. Charcoal
absorbs 1,100 times its weight of impurities
before it parts with any. The fault is in
small, imperfect filters, which, with a quart
of sand and charcoal, are expected to filter
all the water for a household to the end of
time. The filling should be changed
monthly, at least, and the charcoal rcburnt,
while the sand is washed. When filtering
is out of the question water is much soft
ened and purified by boiling five minutes
and setting it to cool with pieces ot wood
charcoal in the pitcher. The milk for chil
dren and sick people is improved by drop
ping well rinsed charcoal into it as it is set
away. These things have a marvelous in
fluence on the growth, health and physical
refinement of children. When you find the
women remarked for their comely complex
ions, as iu Monroe, Mich., for one place,the
native place of General Custer's beautitul
wife, you will alwas find remarkable
Eurity of water. Girls and boys shonld
ave the advantage of building themselves
up with the best material, and the six pail
fuls ot water wherewith our human clay is
kneaded surely has much influence on blood
and brain.
Pure water and air make supple figures,
dancing footsteps and all the grace of pliant
movements which are par excellence the
charm of early girlishness. Under this
stimulus a girl'iorgets the languor, not to
say dnmpishness, supposed to belong to the
period of youth. Impure waters leave their
deposits in the bones, making irregular
J
joints and thick knuckles; they weava
coarse, wiry hair and dull the very eye
balls. THE BEST ZXEECISE.
To acquire suppleness, which is the beauty
and useful grace of women, training must
begin in childhood, not by gymnasium prac
tice, which gives a mechanical air, but by
nse of every muscle for some purpose. Let
a girl swing from a trapeze, not to acquire a
difficult feat, but for the fun of it, pure and
simple. Let her gymnasium be a secluded
part of the lawn or a. skylighted attic full of
sunshine, or, best of all for ill weather, the
glazed porch, which ought to belonsf
to every house as much as its bay
windows and vestibule. I do not wish to
be misunderstood as regards gymnasium
practice. It is bettir than no exercise at
all. but all this play with dumbbells, In
dian clubs and apparatus is very tame and
at the same time difficult like fighting the
air. It lacks freedom, and the "rythmical
development" of which women write grapd
iloquently imparts a stiffness to the move
ments not easily thrown off. We do not
want our girls moving about to an uncon
scious "one-two-three" measure, and all
this muscle culture which fixes its end on
increase of biceps or upper arm or legs is
tiresome, and falls short of satisfaction com
pared to the effort which looks beyond the
muscle to its use and the result gained by it.
Send your boy and vour girl out on errands
and commissions with the bicycle or on
foot; give them so much work to do every
day in allotted time, short enough to oblige
them to work briskly, and let thejr games
be social. It is well to have gymnasium
fittings at home, and let the neighbors chil
dren come over to .play, not to practice.
Ronnd dancing for girls by uayligbton such
a porch as described is worth all the gym
nasium work extant for sending the blood in
qnick, full waves all over the body, for sup
plying the frame and refining the outlines
of the legs. The devil did a good thing for
himself when he persuaded pious Parisians
that dancing was harmful.
Running makes a trim ankle and shapely
leg, and girls should be encouraged to run
as often as possible in old-fashioned games
of ball or prisoners' base, which, as it used
to be played, left few fibres oF the body with
out stretch and refreshment. The dodging,
the feints and sudden dashes for base, were
good practice in tactics, giving a quick eye
and foot and lithe body. The old time vil
lage games were the best survival of Greek
tradition and the best physical training we
shall ever know. Somehow the gymnasium,
college bred woman goes to pieces easier
than one would think, and dies about 55,
while a woman trained by a hard life is
vigorous at four-score.
OUT DOOR AMUSEMENTS.
One thing is certain, girls whose mothers
are afraid of the least exertion for them, who
are forbidden to run upstairs, or to jump,
or to push a garden barrow for fear cf in
jury, are the most fragile china, and go off
in a decline or one of those mysterious
spinal maladies which are the worry
jf doctors. Care, however, must be
"taken for a girl from 12 to iar in
her teens, or she is certain of cruel
disorders all her life. As you value ber
peace, do not so much guard against her
taking cold as render her so hardy that she
is not likely to take it. Discard rubbers
for daily use. Bubber boots are all right
when the streets ar- afloat in January thaw,
but for nine months of the year nothing
more is wanted than sandals for short
walks, or cork-soled, oil-leather boots for
the worst weather. I believe that wearing
rubbers too much is at the root of many
common colds. A light-soled shoe with the
thinnest layer of cork is far pleasanter to
wear. English girls ot good family are
bred up to despise weather, but they wear
cork-soled shoes or waterproof leathers and
wool waterproof cloaks in place of steaming
themselves inside rubber cloaks and over
shoes. They know that nothing softens
complexions more kindly than hours
in moisture and rain, or frightens
the blood in the cheeks better than a sting
ing wind faced for miles. Don't sufferthem.
to grow bilious, thin and pickle fed, but
send them out doors fonr hours every day,
and these disorders disappear. The English
schoolgirl is not allowed to be as much of
an invalid as her American sister often is.
The good looks are too valuable, and every
care is given to' protect? them by a whole
some hardiness. Early-bours for rest and
rising are her rule, remembering that plants
make most growth in the hours after sun
rise. She is not in dread of consumption or
pneumonia if she happens to be caught in
a shower or upset boating. She is not
toadied to as tremendously as the American
girl all her life, and if she is not so viva
cious and attractive at first she makes mora
of an interesting companion when she comes
to be known. Spite of the opinion to the
contrary, there are plenty of good points in
wh.ich the American girl might very well
model herself after her English sister.
Shirley Daee.
CATCHING CATS.
How They Are Utilized In the Promotion
ot Scientific Investleatlon.
Baltimore News.J
"Is vivisection practiced to any great ex
tent in Baltimore institutions of learning?"
a reporter inquired of a spectacled professor
of sciences.
A stout, roughly-dressed young man had
just been seen in the hallway with a bag oa
his shoulder. From the bag came sundry
mournful wailing feline voices, and the
young man's air was business-like. The
professor saw him, too, and stipulating that
no names should be mentioned, he answered
the reporter's query.
"Vivisection may seem cruel, but at times
it becomes necessary to aid the advance of
science. Dissecting a living body under the
influenceof an anaesthetic causes no pain.
Cats, rabbits and even rats are used, and are
generally purchased from a few young men,
who make it a part of their business at any
rate to supply them. A cat is a good sub
ject and piobably more used than any other
animal. No, I cannot tell what institu
tions use them, but I can say that there are
several places where the searcher after scien
tific knowledge can practice vivisection."
The young man with the bag was standing
at the door as the reporter passed out, but
no discordant chorus rang out on the still
evening air.
"My business is to catch cats, he said
"I carry a bag, and whenever an unfortu,
nale feline gets in it, that feline's name is
Dennis. Do people kick? Certainly; hut
when they kick I run. Stray cats are the
same as stray dogs, in my estimation, and X
capture them when I can."
"What prices do you get?" inquired the
reporter.
"Sometimes I sell a large cat for a quarter,
but rarely. Smaller cats bring less.
"To what institutions or schools do you
sell your cats?"
"That is what they all want to know,
laughingly rejoined the trafficker in felines.
"But I may add," he continued, "that one
of the most prominent institutions in thii
city deals in them. Some people go to bed
thinking their pets are Bafe on the back yard
fence during the night. But I get my eyes
on them, they are quickly hustled into my
bag, and, wh'en those people wake in the
morning, they wonder where their pets are,
and, unlike a lost dog, a lost cat is rarely,
if ever, found."
ETolnllonarr.
4 1
New Arrival (by steamer from, "de Souf")
Hi, Ephruml Does de fur come ont like'
dat on cullud folks when de' comet Norf,
like our varmints in de winter time? Hfe.
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