by . . - ,,' , l--s , , "'W'j v
Kit
w
ia' - --" " ,. " ;.s ' -- " 5' HMsfctraa
".tVonnc pirl at his side. She 'was a Monde:
fcot tall, the contradiction of her sister. The
contradiction of her sisler in soul as in body
- most especially.
' Sanello was restful, silent, dependent; so
dependent.
How helpless are we all in the hands of
Destinyl Here was one woman born amid
' the elements of strife; companioned with
those who shed blood, train td to trace her
fineer placidly in the groves along the cabin
wall where the messengers of death had
ploughed, not unused to looking dead men
an the face,6he was that which she was:
Destinyl Fate!
A most lovely woman; dying for love;
made unlovable by destiny; fate! Such is
the story of life. But let us hasten for
ward. The year wore on uninterruptedly;
If we may omit mention of the very fre
quent visits of Farla and her sister at what
they were now pleased to call "The Stu
dio." . .
Some progress was made in painting, but
none whatever in the subject at heart
True, the mystery of the flowing springs
on the mountain top was a matter that held
much promise in its solution. But how
was it to be solved? The artist found some
work in the little cities, sown like flower
beds at his feet, and the "struggle for ex
istence" was no struggle in the cabin on the
epurof Mount Diablo. The sweetest loaf
of bread in the world was to be had at any
of the little flower-like cities below and
all about Fruits? All the grapes, ptams,
pears, all fruits you can name, were to
be had almost anywhere for the picking up.
Ana as for fish. There is your hook; any
where you can find water, and all kinds
of fish are yours. Meat? The land that
sends meat to every great market on this
globe is not going to let any man that toils
.go hungry for meatl
One most pleasant morning Farla dashed
down to the cabin on her great, strong white
stallion, and leaning a little forward from
her saddle, cried out:
"I have asked father for almost the for
tieth time, and now he says you may go with
us this morning to the islands. Take the
Eteep trail down to the Straights. Our sail
boat is there. Be quick or we may have to
leave you."
Thcgreit, wide-mouthed creature threw
himself back on his supple haunches, reared
his proud, white head in the air and
then plunged on and on, roaring over the
rocks.
It was the one thing that the author de
sired. Here now at last he was to sail
through the dangerous Straights of Car
quinas at the side of a man who ought to
know their every secret.
Arriving at tfe rendezvous just in time to
take his seat in the boat he had a good op
portunity, after salutations and introduc
tions, brief and simple as possible, to con
template the iorm and stature of the man,
who by his strength and daring, had long
been tb'e terror of all wrongdoers in his re
gion. This giant in strength was a giant in size
as well. Yet so exclusive and reserved was
his life that the artist, so far from ever hav
ing been at his house had never before
looked upon his face. He had a full heavy
beard; was almost a perfect blonde, this
Portuguese from the Azores, this islander
who still kept his'Home in some sort in the
sea; choosing islands even more desolate
and craggy than the most steep and stony of
the Azores, where he was born and bred.
His hands were simply huge, and as he un
loosed and threw off the heavy cable rope
from the prow of his boat the artist could
sot help thinking of the man who had been
found up on the top of the crags above them
"with his back broken and his neck twisted
nearly oft"
Once fairly from land the silent man be
gan in a quiet way and in a voice that was
almost melodious':
"You have heard of my trouble about the
land; you live in the cabin where men came
and tried to drive me out."
The artist hastened to say that he had
heard nothing to his disparagement
"I am sorry; very sorry it all happened.
But I had retreated from the inundation of
people to the mountain top. There was no
going further with my family; either they
or I had to quit"
"And they quit!" said Farla with the
fierce look ana the firm set lips noted be
fore. "As for those other matters, don't believe
them. I donit go about the world breaking
people's backs across my knee. Nothing
can be laid to my door, nothing can be
proved but that one trouble at the cabin."
John Gray had been glad, very glad, if
the man had not said so much. His assur
ance that nothing more than the killing of
the three men could be proved set his teeth
on edge and made him miserable. He was
now certain that his host tor the day, and
for many days should a storm set in, was
really in the habit of breaking the backs of
people across his knee if people interfered
with him; certain of it, because he took
fsuch unnecessary pains to deny it
However, the strong and steady hand at
the helm would hardly be raised against
him, he thought, and as they shot down the
Straits the ill-omened reflections were
shaken o2. The yellow sail filled with the
favoring breeze. Farla held the sail rope.
Farla held the winds, their lives as it were,
in her own two hands.
These Portusucse sailors have here the
same yellow sails that dot the waters of
Venice. They are made yellow with a mix
ure of oil and beeswax. The oil and bees
wax makes them tough and enduring. Some
times the Bay of San Francisco is yellow,
as a California field is yellow, with spots
and dots: a flower field of water: great float
ing California poppies!
Farla and her lather manned thishuge yel
low flower of the proud sunlit Bay of San
Francisco. This left two fdlers. What
more natural than that they should sit side
bv side? It was not only natural butalmost
absolutely necessary. Yet the dark brows
of one there grew darker still; and steadily
grew darker as the boat shot on.
Suddenly there was a lurch that almost
threw John Gray and Sanello on their faces.
Instinctively nis arm fell about her and re
stored her firmly to his side. And the dark
brows were dark as muffled thunder
clouds.
"What could have done that?" asked
Gray.
"It was all my fault," answered Silvia
after a moment's pause, to give Farla time
to explain, which fhoulIenly declined.
"It was like striking a rock," said Gray.
"No; it was not a rock; something worse
than a rock though when the tide is low.
But with this lull tide I thought I could
run straight aver it; over it now though."
"What is it?"
"Don't know; eddy I reckon; anyhow it
has been there always; and we keep close to
the shore when the tide is low hereabouts.
For the water boils and boils there as if a
buried river was boiling up."
John Gray caught his breath at mention
of a buried river and must have changed
color, for he saw that both Farla and her
father were looking him hard and curiously
in the face.
His eyes fell down to avoid confusion and
they rested on the waters that leaped and
leaped against the swift gliding little vessel.
'What a curious, mixture of waters."
cried Gray suddenly. His artist's eye had
detected colors and the confusion of colors
which ordinary men would not at once ob
serve. "Yes," said Silvia, "that is another queer
thing. Here is yellow water and white
water, black water and green, all mixed up
together; only they don't seem to mix at
ell."
This contradictory speech, absurd as it
may read, was as plain and direct a state
ment of a curious fact as could have been
made in so brief an observation. The
writer recalls a singular and indeed a simi
lar condition of things encountered while
descending the Amazon river many years
ngo. There from the south bank, about
midway from the Andes to the ocean, a
broad black river rolled its dark smooth
waters into the light, white, airy Amazon.
So for a whole day, if recollection is not
treacherous, the waters p! the two minikin?
streams refused to mingle. Ten, 20, 40, 60
miles below we still sailed now and then
over and through broad, black and oily
islands or solid bodies of water that had not
yet blended with the bright waters of the
Amazon. Ages hence, when we are all for
gotten dust, the oil wells of the world will
be on tbe headwater of that smooth, silent
And dark river of unsociable deeps.
CHAPTER VIL
OUT3HBOTTGH THE GOLDEN GATE.
The dash through the Golden Gate, if
you care to go out with the turn of the tide, as
did our little party that morning, is one of
the most exciting, inspiring not to say des
parate, if a gale goes out with yon in all
this world. '
The reason is not far to reach. For you
must know that the gate is very narrow.
It is in fact a flume hewn out of granite. It
is somethingmorethana flume; it is a mighty
mill toil, with the tide running out Add
a gale to this! An audacious Portuguese
sailor at the helml A yellow sail so full
that the mast is bent almost into a hoop!
See that hoop thrashing the white foam of
the water at almost every bound I The boat
leaps from wave to wavel The dark-browed
girl holds all in her two brown handsl A
slip of the rope, a single inch of -loosened
rein, and this gorgeous yellow flower would
blossom no longer on the bosom of the
foamy white sea at the Golden Gate.
John Gray has a stout heart; but it is not
in the boat It is back there with the bub
bling and boiling waters of the Buried
river. He has a stout arm; but it is not at
all concerned with his own safety or his
own comfort It is about the terrified girl
at his side. She has been terrified, timid,
trembling in a strangely unnatural way for
one born and bred to the sea and of a race
of seamen. What can'be the matter with
her? She leans close to the man's side; is
pale, silent as usaal; unaccountably sad.
Farla's lips are set, as if never again to
be relaxed. She has seen all. She has im
agined 10,000 times more than all that has
been; or ever can be.
The father has seen that his silent little
girl suffers and is silent and unhappy.
But now the swift and desperate dash is
over. Shot out of the gate, as if shot out
of a gun, they at last take a long breath
and drive on in a straight line and tranquil
sea to the steep and stupendous islarids of
unheaved rocs; so steep and so stupendous
that they take the wind from the yellow
sail.
But in this haste to get through the gate
to the open sea we have forgotten to give
the simple reason for this flood and foam
and rush of waters at full turn of the tide.
It is this: the narrow gate is wide enough
to admit a tremendous inflow from the sea
at full tide, and so the Bay of San Fran
cisco fills well from the sea. But it must
be borne in mind that one of the great rivers
of the continent is all the time pouring into
the bay also. This Sacramento river once
flowed" from very lar to the north. It drew
its strength from the snows of Canada.
Then the Sierras were broken through and
the great river was cut in twain at what is
now the farther Oreeon and found expres
sion to the Pacific Ocean at that point The
other end of the great Sacramento river is
now called the Columbia river.
But to get back to San Francisco bay;
with this great river which drains the
Sierras and nearly all of California, to say
nothing of the sunken rivers ot Nevada,
with this river pouring in at one side and
the sea pouring in at the same time from
tbe other you observe at once that the
Golden Gate is more than doubly filled when
the tide sets seaward. Add a cracking wind
to this and you can see what a divinely
audacious wrestle a real man may have here
with the noblest elements of nature.
John Gray took in a long breath after
this dash; and as the boat began to round
in under the shadow of the overhanging
rocks las arm relaxed which had supported
the girl at ins side. And all tnis without (
his hardly knowing what was done.
Not so with Farla. She took in no long
breath or any sense of rest She was on fire.
She set foot firmly oh the narrow strip of
white sand that hugged the edge of the
rocky inlet where the party came to land
but did not speak. The brave little boat
with the yellow sail puffed and panted, as it
it had been a great greyhound lolling its
tongue and resting after the chase.
The party climbed steeply up the one nar
row way hewn out of the rocks in single file,
holding fast to the outreaching and over
hanging crags.
On, on, on, up to the very clouds the
great crags climbed! But here on a bench
50 feet or more from the water was a little
hut of stone and here the party stopped.
For here the partner of Silvia, a brother,
had been waiting with the freight which
he had gathered from the precipitous rocks.
A dozen great hampers of big speckled eggs
rested upon the door. A dozen curious
black eyed children watched the strangers
from behind the rocks and corners of tbe
stone hut Two or three superannuated sail
ors, stranded wrecks of sailors, lounged
abont on the rocks; old sea lions that roared
no more now. A brown and wrinkled old
woman came shuffling out of a crack in the
rocks in the rear cf the hut with a pipe in
her toothless month. Such is the landing
at the "Fa'leones."
Half an hour of tugging at the heavv
hampers of the huge sea bird eggs and all
was ready for the return.
"I am not going back. I will stay with
uncle." The pale thin lips of the proud girl,
the girl whose lips had yesterday been so
full, so sensuous with life and love and
humanity, these changeful lips parted very
unwillingly to sav even this much to her
father. She spoke to no one else; did not
even seem to see anyone else.
"Are you afraid to go back?" said the
father kindly.
"Afraid? ha, ha,, ha." Her laugh was
hard and low and bitter.
"Farla is not afraid," said the sister, in a
kind, conciliatory tone, "and what is more
I shall be afraid if she don't go. But I shall
not be afraid if she is along," and turning
half to Gray she said: "Farla is safe; so cer
tain; she looks after everything."" I used to
say that Farla looks after everything, and
leaves nothing at all to God."
"But you leave everything to God and
mac!"
There was a sting in the tail of this last
speech, which only the father and sister
heard; and even they only half understood.
But seeing the proud and beautiful girl
turn suddenly away, and start steeply up
the overhanging rocks before them, the
father chose to let her have her will.'Jas
usual, and with a gruff "good-by, Farla, I
will come to-morrow," led off down to the
boat
Hastily embarking, for the sun was fall
ing down fast behind the rocks, the sail was
once more to the wind, and the Golden Gate
was before and not behind them.
Some tacking and much adroit use of the
yellow sail and the giant in the stern of the
boat, with a half suppressed sigh, threw a
glance back over his shoulder. An excla
mation ot amazement, if net of alarm,
broke from his lips!
All turned their eyes in the direction of
.the savage islands. There away up hun
dreds of feet in the air, higher than the sun
it seemed, the sinking sun behind her, a
black silhouette standing in a background
of IdI Her stream of black hair almost
mantling her as the wind housed within its
wondrous folds, lifted or let it fall.
. Glorious! The goddess of the unpossessed
seas!
The father bit his bloodless lips; tightened
hand on helm and was about to turn, about
Then the face of his younger child appealed
to him; the was cot so strong as Farla.
And then what would returning avail?
He was not a man of words. He knew
that Farla was in peril. He did not say to
her sister that she was standing where never
man, much less woman, had set foot before.
But he knew it well. He only set his teeth
tightly and drove on straight for the Golden
Gato and did not look back.
CHAPTER VT1L
APLOAT oir sax fbancisco bat.
The full and flooding ocean rattled against
the granite gateway on either side as the
yellow sail with its three silent voyagers
swept on up the bay under the gloomy guns
of the fortress. The swift yellow sail was
accompanied by a mighty snow white fleet of
sea clouds that came in through the great
Golden Gate like monstrous, wide-winged
sea birds seeking shelter for the night
How mightily heaved the swelling, surg
ing bosom of the great bay unojer them! The
falling sun bad been suddenly caught on
the sharp horizon, between skyand sea; and
awful fireflashes, like flashes from molten
iron of some mighty forge flashed for an
instant forth and the fleet of snow white
clouds was a sea of gold and fire.
Might and Majesty above them! Silence!
Sublimity! God!
Only a moment at the extreme end of the
great narrow wharf that thrusts its long
commercial finger far into the bay; a rattle
of tackle and iron hook; the hampers of sea
birds' eggs are in the air; the yellow sail
is leaning to its work under a full wind;
with the rocky 'walls of Carguinas Straits
dimly visible in the light of the dying sun
above the cleaving and climbing prow.
"Sanello? Bello?"
The massive, broad shouldered man at
the helm, with a voice, and maybe a nature,
like that of a lion, had suddenly broken
silence. He seemed to have been almost
alarmed at the sound of his own voice and
tried to modulate it bv letting it fall and
using the little pet diminutive by which
he had called his child in her babyhood.
"Bello?" "'
"Well, father dear?"
"What could be the matter with Farla?"
The strong man sighed deeply, caught in
his breath and expelled "at with such tre
mendous force that he might have been
earned as of kin with the surging elements
about him. It seemed to have been the first
real breath he had taken since he saw his
first born lined out against the golf and fire
of the dying sun on that awful and inacces
sible eminence in the sea.
Sanello was slow to answer; not that she
really knew the cause of her sister'-s. strange
conduct Indeed she, as well as her father
had long since come to be prepared for
much that was willful from this strong, pas
sionate and determined girl.
"Hello," do ydu think Farla is in danger
there?"
The voice was like low, far off thunder;
and the hard, big hand held not steadily to
the helm; but it shifted and lay doubtfully
at its direct work, as if debating whether or
no to keep on; whether or no to turn back
into the night that had now enveloped
them.
'(If you think Farla is in any danger
there I will land you and Mr. Gray at our
cove and go back.'"
The voice of the creat grizzly bear
trembled, and the girl's heart was moved,
as she said hastily:
"Why no, father, I, for my part, can't
thick of Farla as ever in danger from any
thing.' She's so strong and confident and
sure. Just see ho wit was with that white
bull."
At the mention of the white bull there
came a low, deep chuckle of satisfaction and
delight from ihe darkness back in the stern
of the boat, and there was a stronger and a
steadier grasp on the helm.
John Gray had hoped for much in the
way of close observation in the region of
what he now felt was surely the mouth of
the Buried river on his return, but night
was upon them and the man at the helm
laid his prow close under the frowning
banks. The boiling and surging phenomena
of the morning was entirely avoided by the
cautious old sailor now and the yellow sail
crept along under the crags in obstinate
security; in absolute silence now as well.
"The white bull?" queried Gray finally,
of the girl at his Bide.
"Yes, the white bull; but be snre don't
mention it to Farla. You see the Pachelos'
rich people, governors of California once
had herds and lands all about Redwood
Park and Mount Diablo. Well, a big,
white bull, the most terrible creature I ever
saw, twice as bad as a grizzly bear, took up
his residence right down there by tbe Indian
well where the three men are buried."
A grunt of satisfaction at the mention of
the three dead men came up out of the
darkness at the helm. But where was the
Indian well? and where were the graves of
the three? All this was great news to John
Gray.
"You see," the girl, went on. "the bull
found it very safe and quiet by the haunted
Indian well there in the dense redwood
thicket where the graves are that he stayed
there all the time; all the time except when
he would break out after mother or some of
us children."
"He deserved to be'ghoV
"Shot? Full of holes as a sieve; lead
enough to sink him. eh. father?"
A jerk at the helm back in the darkness;
and a sharp closing together of the massive
jaws like the closing together of the iron
teeth of a wolf trap, and that was the an
swer and assent as the girl went on.
. "Lead wouldn't kill him: his curly white
hair was so long and his hide so tough that
all the bullets we could fire into-him did no
good; only made him more savage."
"And he chased Farla?"
"Chased Farla? No! that is a stranee
part of it. He never chased Farla at all;
all things seem to know better than ever
chase Farla; but he chased everybody else.
And one day when Farla and father were
over to the Islands the white bull got after
mother when she went to the spring for
water, and ran her to the gate, and then
pitched her clean over tbe fence. We
thought she was dead. We children got
her in on the bed,'and she lay there all day
moaning and moaning, till they got back
from the Inlands. And that white bull
tearing and stamping and bellowing all the
time at the gate till Farla came. Then he
went back to the thicket that surrounds the
Indian well in the orroya back of your old
cabin."
"And so your sister Farla frightened off
the white bull."
"Frightened him ofll She killed him!
Yes.'she did. One look at poor mother
where she lay moaning there, and Farla
caught up father's knife, dashed down to
the thicket, and father after her trying to
keep her back" a low chuckle from the
stern of the boat "but ho could only see
her creep, like a panther through the nar
row thicket; on, on, to where a great white
heap lay breathing heavily by the Indian
well and between two of the graves; the big,
burly head thrown back and around on the
side; sound asleep in a second, for he was
very tired from his hard and hot day's work.
Well, that's all. She was on him with a
single leap, like a Califonia lion, and her
knife was buried back of the ugly horns be
fore he knew what hurt him."
There was no mistaking the deep chuckle
of delight that came up from the stern of
the boat now. The recital of the daring
girl'r deed gave the father confidence that
all was well with her at the island and the
helmsman drove his boat into the little cove,
his harbor, his home, with firmness and
great satisfaction.
The moonlight landed there in full force
and splendor at the same time. The great
silver scimitar in the unseen hand of the
eternal flashed in serene dominion over sea
and land, and the little rock-bound and
wood-hung cove was lit up like the porch of
some sweet watering place to welcome its
guests.
Brit there was another boat there. Light
came into the face of Sanello at sight of it.
Darkness and rage in the face of her father
came and kept possession as he saw this
costly and richly finished little yacht lift
and fall on the moonlit bosom of the bay.
xne gin was anxious to ny up tee rocES,
to reach home instantly; surely Swain was
there.
"Father, Mr. Gray and I will take the
short way; right straight up; he can hold
.on to the bushes and I can hold on to him."
"Well." This was all the word the two
heard in answer as Gray, impelled by the
eager girl behind him, lay hold ot bush and
bough and drew himself upward.
Halfway to the summit in a little moon
lit open space as the grass grew long and
strocg( they paused to take breath. The
poor girl was so exhausted that she threw
herself face downward, her hands covering
her face, into the grass.
John Gray heard a heavy noise, as of the
grinding' of heavy boulders together and
looked a little way down the steep path.
There stood Silvia; a huge boulder, a boulder
big enough for a millstone, noised in his
right band. The loud noise was,heard once,
twice; the giant body swayed to and fro, to
and fro. And then crash! thud! splash! and
splinters and spars and tattered shreds
alone marked all that remained of the gay
little yacnt in tne moonlit cove aelow.
"What was that?" asked the
;irl, rising
up and turning half about Bj
so eager
her lover
see or in
was she to get forward and m
that she did not seem to care
quire further. But observing
now making his way up tbe stl
ner father
and close
at hand, as it nothing had hap;
jned, she,
Trig&J&
by action rather than utterance, urged Gray
hastily on.
"But that Indian well? did you say it
was close to the cabin?"
He said this back over his shoulder right
in her face as he made pretense of holding
back some bushes from striking h'er too
heavily.
"Not two minutes' walk were it'not for the
Brush; in that tall thicket; under the cliff;
other side." The girl was out of breath and
spoke briefly as possible. She paused a
moment and then said in hurried whispers:
"Now mind don't let Farla know. Tts
her's; all her's. A little lake it is. Full
of fish. Stone walls; lillies all about
Beautiful! And she's got a boat in the
well, or lake; a bull hide boat; made it her
self; made it out of the hide of that white
bull she killed. Now mind don't yon never
tell Farla I told you. Come, hurry on; but
mind, don't you never tell .Farla I told
you."
And so panting and out of breath they
came through tbe redwoods to the opening
where the mother -stood at the stout gate
waiting.
"Mr. Swain?" whispered the girl to her
mother with a half glance behind for fear
her father might hear her eagerness.
"Gone, 'Rello gone for a long, time
maybe. He left some gold for you with me;
and the pretty boat for you down in the
cove. But he's gone 'Bello; gone, my
girl."
She sank against the great oaken post and
the mother's arms fell about her, as the
wings of a hen fold over her helpless brood.
The father came up, dark browed, silent,
sullen. The young man passed on his way
toward the lonely cabin; toward the graves
in the thicket; the sunken old Indian well
with its border of lilies, its bull hide boat;
its vague possibilities of association with
the old tradition here. Was this after all
his search and'waste of time really the old
tidal well with its rise and fall of waters
into which the imperishable old Indian
chief had been hurled? Was this indeed
the verv spot from which first fluttered the
gaudy flag of Spain on the rocK-built battle
ments of Mount Diablo? And Farla? To
house all those ponderous secrets in her
heart What a mysterious beingl How
much less a woman to keep her heart walled
in as a well! Less than woman? Or more
than woman, surely not entirely woman.
But here the water is too deep.
COXTISUED NEXT SUNDAY.
Copyright, 1SS9, bv Joaquin Miller.
CULTIVATION OP NUTMEGS.
How They are Grown and Treated in New
Guinea.
Paddling into a little cove, says Captain
John Strahan, in the Glasgow Mail, on the
south side of the bay, we landed beside a
clear rippling stream, and, having ordered
the whole of the men to march in Indian
file in front, we started.by a little rugged
path into the mountains, with my interpre
ter immediately behind me, and the Rajah
just in front Every foot of the journey,
which was laborious in the extreme, dis
closed fresh scenes of verdure and tropical
splendor, winding along the sides of deep
ravines, sometimes dragging ourselves up
the creepers and undergrowth, we ultimate
ly attained an altitude of about ,1,000 feet
above the sea, and then entered the nutmeg
country. Here we halted and retted. The
Bajah pulled some of the nutmegs, and ex
plained how far they were from being ripe.
Having rested sufficiently, we again
started forward, and after scrambling along
for about an hour, we gained a fine piece of
table-land,over which we. traveled for about
another half an hour, when we reached three
houses erected in the very heart of the
forest. These were used by the natives for
drying the nutmegs. The country was
everywhere magnificent, and the aroma of
the spice-laden air delicious. Nutmeg and
other equally valuable trees were every
where growing in great profusion. The
fruit of the nutmeg in .appearance resembles
a pear, and, when ripe, opens and displays
the nut covered with a Qeautiful red coating
of mace. The nuts are then picked from
the trees, put into baskets, and taken to the
houses, where they are husked and placed
on shelves. They are then partially roasted
over a slow fire until all the moisture is ex
tracted. After this they are cooled and
carried down to the village in nets ready to
be bartered to the Bugis, Arabs, and other
traders who frequent the Gulf in their small
prows or junkos at the proper season.
A CASE OF HOD CURE.
An
Instance in Which Self-Prcservatlon
Wns Stroneer Than the Infirmity.
Lewlston Journal. "
"The best case of mind cure that I ever
heard of," continued the doctor, "happened
in the town of Belgrade. My father told me
about it.
"01d Deacon Budger's wife lay in bed for
years. She didn't know what ailed her and
couldn't find anybody who did and some
folks were unkind enough to hint that it
was nndiscoverable because it didn't exist
but there she lay year after year, without
moving from the bed. It was a nice feather
bed which her mother had handed down to
her aud which she prized very highly.
"Everybody pitied the deacon. He hired
what assistance he could afford, but had to
do a large share of theliouse-work, himself,
and three times every day to carry a good
square meal to his spouse, whose appetite
was remarkably reliable.
"One day the house took fire while the
deacon was away. Did the deacon's wife
burn up? No. The instinct of self-preservation
was stronger than her infirmity.
So was the instinct of feather-bed-preservation.
She got up and carried her bed to
the other side of the road. Fortucatelv tbe
.fire was soon extinguished and she took her
bed bacK to tne House and laid nerselt on it
again.
"Abont 630 o'clock that evening she
asked the deacon why he had not brought
her supper to her as usual,
" 'Sarah,' said he, in a tone,that smacked
mildly and sadly of self-assertion, 'if you
ever-get anything more to eat, -you'll have
to come out in tbe kitchen after it!'
"And as Sarah had not been roasted,
neither did she starve."
A GAS-PE0PELLED CABEIAGE.
A Description of a Wonderful Vehicle Exhl-
bited In Munich.
Glasgow Mall. 1
Messrs. Benz & Co., of Mannheim, have
lately exhibited in Munich a motor of
which gas is the propelling agency. The
gas is generated by the contrivance from
benzine or analogous material. The motor,
which is not visible from without, is placed
in the rear of the carriage, which has three
wheels, over the main axle, and the benzine
used in its propulsion is carried in a closed
copper receptacle secured, under the seat,
from which it passes drop by drop to the
generator, and which holds enough benzine
for a journey of about 75 miles. The gas
mixture is ignited in a closed cylinder by
means of an electric spark a very safe and
reliable arrangement
After regulating the admission of the gas
the motor can be started by simply turning
a hand-lever. The operator mounts upon
the seat and by pressing the lever at his
left sets the motor in motion, which then
starts,the carriage being connected with tbe
back wheels. The speed can be regulated
at will by turning the lever backward or
forward, and by pulling on the lever the
motion can be completely stopped. The
vehicle is steered like a tricycle by a small
front wheel. Its greatest speed is about ten
miles an hour. A quart of benzine is suf
ficient for a one hour's trip, the cost of the
motor power being thus about three-pence
half-penny per hour. The carriage Is in
tended to seat four persons, and in appear
and somewhat resembles an ordinary phae
ton set on three wheels.
HORSFORD'S ACID PHOSPHATE
For Impaired Vitality
And weakened energy, is wonderfully suc-
cesef ul.
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SOCKET ACTRESSES.
Some of the Fashionable Women Now
Preparing for the Stage.
AN AMATEUR'S ROMANTIC HISTORY
A Eeal Prototype of the Heroine of Tho
' Quick or the Dead.
FOLLOWING MES. POTTEE'S FOOTSTEPS
rwBirrsjj fob tub dispatch. 1
FTER Amelie Eives
wrote a tremendous
amount of gush about
a dead husband's
clothes, cigar stumps
and the other per
sonal belongings
which the tempest
uous Hal was obliged
to leave behind him
when he departed
from the frenzied
affection of Barbara,
a chord of sympathy
was struck in the
feminine breast
throughoutihe land.
It takes a woman to
appreciate the romance of a defunct cigar
stump. Women unquestionably felt the
nower of Miss Eives' emotion over the relics
of a dead husband, for probably no incident
in "The Quick or the Dead" has been more
widely discussed than Barbara's affection
for her dead husband's clothes.
I accidentally discovered the other day
that an actual flesh and blood woman, and
one who is endowed with beauty, high
social connections and considerable wealth,
followed out the precise lines of Miss
Bives' Barbara after her own husband's
death. She cannot be aoaused of cribbing
ideas from "The Quick or the Dead," for
her form of hero-worBhip was inaugurated
before the novel was published. In Mrs.
Berlan-Gibbs' country house near Orange
there hangs upon a rack in a room adjoining
her own the last suit of clothes worn by her
husband, including the overcoat with the
t loves thrust half in the pocket precisely as
e left them. Under no circumstances are
these relics allowed to be disturbed, and
they are cherished with the most tender
care by the actress.
A SENSIBLE WOMAir.
If Mrs. Berlan-Gibbs were emotional or
silly such action would be more or less
absurd, but she seems to be a remarkably
robust, well-balanced and sensible woman.
She is an odd figure, inasmuch as she is the
only amateur actress who has gone upon the
professional stage and become successful,
without a lot of hulla-balloo and clap-trap
advertising. Every detail about her pri
vate life has been studiously guarded from
publicity, and probably the facts that I am
setting forth now will see the light in a
newspaper for the first time. The name of
Serlan comes from the grandfather-on the
maternal side, who was au Austrian baron.
Her father was a near descendant of Jona
than Edwards.
From her early childhood she had a ro
mantic history. "When she was very young
she eloped and married Mr. Gibbs lnthe
fana nf a. crnnri deal of familv ODDOsition.
The voung people had more or less of a
struggle for a time, but they had influential
friends. A stanch friend bf the bride dur
ing all of her troubles was the late Mrs.
William Astor. When Mr. Gibbs died
suddenly the grief of his wife passed all
bounds. She was not on friendly terms
with her family, she lived alone, grieving
over her husband's death until her friends
'urged her to do something. She made up
her mind to go upon the stage. She was
unique in the history of society amateurs
from the fact that she was impelled
to the steps neither by n desire for
notoriety nor a lust for money. Her
fortune! is ample, and she has never been
talked about, but she wanted some aim in
life which would help her to forget the grief
caused by her husband's death. She began
to study with Mrs. Corbit It may be said
in passing that as soon as Mrs. William
Astor heard that Mrs., Berlan-Gibbs was
going on the stage she terminated their
friendship. Mrs. Berlan-Gibbs had a mag
nificent voice when she was a girl, and in
deed up to the time of her husband's death,
but since the funeral she has not been able
to sing. There seems to be no explanation
of it. She has tried in every way to sing,
but though there is no sentiment in it,
the voice seems entirely to have left her.
She dresses in white anal gold or white and
silver, and is a slender aud spirituelle-look-ing
woman. Many of her friends advised
her to make a European appearance, or to
come out as a star after the fashion of Mrs.
Langtry and Mrs. Potter; but she refused
absolutely. She went to Mr. Frohman and
was engaged to play in one of his road
pieces in "Ihe Wile," I believe and she
is now touring through the country quietly
without attracting any other attention than
that which results from her artistic merits.
METHODS OF SOCIETY ACTEESSES.
All of this is more or less notable when
one considers the usual methods of a society
actress. All the shrewder judges of theatri
cal life have urged women repeatedly to
pursue the course which is followed by Mrs.
Berlad-Gibbs, and it will be interestingto
watch her career and see if the results carry
out the opinion of experts. The question is
whether a woman had better start in with a
rush and carry her career through on the
style of Mrs. Langtry and Mrs. Potter, or
begin quietly and work her way up to the
top by means of her art.
Mrs. James G. Blaine, Jr., will go out this
fall as a star, but in her case it will be im
possible to work quietly. Her name will
attract attention in every city in the coun
try, and her debut in New York will keep
the wires rattling in every section of the
country for a week. Mrs. Blaine's advisers"
are urging her to go slow, and she gives
every evidence of tollowinz their counsel.
but pepple are beginning to talk about her,
and the influence of this species of young
fame on a woman is very difficult to with
stand. At the first night of "Cleopatra,"
for instance, Mrs. Blaine'was in a box, and
she received as much homage as a princess
on parade. People stared at her and gos
siped about her with bated breath. She
bore the. scrutiny with superb tranquillity.
She is a slender blonde, cold and self-possessed-looking
young woman. Probably
nine people out often would call her beau
tiful. The tenth judge of womankind
would say that she looked as though she
had a history. Her managers are trying to
get a play which will have sufficient draw
ing power to carry Mrs. Blaine in case
Mrs. Blaine is not able to carry the play.
The play will be starred and Mrs. Blaine
will not That is to be the programme. If
the play fails no stigma of failure will at
tach itself to MrLBlaine's name. If the
play succeeds, Mrs.telaine will be lifted to
the position of a leadinsr star. She has had
experience on the stage and will.probablj
succeed in mating an income of $20,ouo or
63H fln1 a .... Bnrl ,a.nn linwnlf innnnniinllif
. talked about by the newspapers.
dunging irom me ouuook to-aay, tne
coming actress who will follow Mrs. Blaine
will be Mrs. Wilbur F. Bloodgood. This
lady is walking precisely in the footsteps
of Mrs. Potter. Nothing that Mrs. Potter
ever did is left undone by Mrs. Bloodgood,
and there can be no doubt in the mind of a
close observer of the stage and its people
that the similarity in the careers of the
two women will be carried out to the end.
Mrs. Bloodgood is having her photo
graphs distributed, her pretty face
is continually appearing in the
dramatic papers, paragraphs about her
dot the columns of tne press. She is a regu
lar attendant at the theaters on first nights
and at professional matinees, and she vigor
ously denies that she Is going on the pro
fessional' stage, precisely as Mrs. Potter did
all these things two or three years ago. New
York must have some woman to talk about,.
,and Mrs. Bloodgood would seem to be the
coming viotim. Her face is not as pretty as
"3lrs. Potter's, but she has a far better figure
and unquestionably more dramatic power.
AK EXCUSE FOE SOCIET2T ACTEESSES.
r A lady of, my acquaintance, who has
traveled a great deal, and who holds a prom
inent position in society, in speaking of
amateur actresses, said the other day:
"Why shouldn't Mrs. Bloodgood go upon
the stage? People sneer at Mrs. Langtry
and speak of all she has lost by her profes
sional debut: so they do of Mrs. Potter: so
they will of Mrs. Bloodgood; but when you
come to think of it there is not such a heart
rending sacrifice in it at all. I have been in
society for 20 years, and I shall in all like
lihood be there ten years more, as I have
two very young daughters to launch upon
the world. Ihave seen many women come
up, and I have also seen them go down.
That is where the true wisdom of the choice
of such women as Mrs. Langtry and Mrs.
Potter comes in."
"You mean to say that you indorse the
action of these women in leaving their
homes, their husbands, and all that goes
with such a proceeding to go on the stage?"
"I don't believe that either one of them
ever intended to leave their husbands. It
was not a result they looked for, and it is
very often the case, as you know, that hus
band and wife live in perfect privacy and
happiness even though the wife is on the
stage. Take the case of Maggie Mitchell,
Emma Abbott and others. Mrs.-Larigtry's
position was this: She was unknown when
she went to London. Society took her up,
feted her, and courted her in the most splen
did manner for two seasons. The third sea
son came around and Mrs. Langtry discov
ered tnat sne was oecommg an old story.
She .knew perfectly well that in the fourth
season she would be dropped and utterly for
getten in the rushing crowd. A number of
rival beauties had come up from the ranks.
A woman who has o'nee tasted a great suc
cess cannot easily go back to, the retirement
and privacy of an economically managed
home. It is the same with Mrs. Potter.
She reached the apex of her career when she
went to London four years ago and went
from Lady Bandolph Churchill's house to
Bowes with the Prince of Wales' party.
Everybody petted her. She was a shrewd
woman, nevertheless, and she knew perfectly
well that in a year or so to duplicate such a
success would be an impossibility.
TOO MUCH OF A BEOP.
To come back here after that and settle
down as the wife of a bank clerk on 6.000 a
year was a difficult future to face. She went
on the stage. The result is that everywhere
she goes she is stared at, her Hie is full of
excitement and movement, her income is
large, and she has become interested in her
art Incidentally she is a silly woman to
make such a ghastly exposure of herself in
the play of "Cleopatra,' but probably in five
or six years from this she will be able to
command an income of $50,000 or $60,000 a
year, as Mrs. Langtry does, and have a pub
lic career open to her until she is well on to
ward her 60th year. These are the things
that attract women, and it is useless to ad
vise womankind against them.
The brief career of Mrs. O'Sullivan
Dimpfel points a moral. She did not leave
her husband and home when she went on
the stage, but she toot him with her. The
result was a series.of tremendous rows. The
actres3had not only to support herself,
boost her name into prominence, and attend
to the many other details of a woman who
travels around the country,vbut she had
also to smooth the fiery temper of Mr.
O'Sullivan Dimpfel, and endeavor to pre
vent her managers from thrashing him at
short intervals. The strain was too much,
and she went back to private life in Balti
more, but it is said she will never again be
received into society.
A glance at the future reveals Miss Elsie
DeWolffas acoming star. With her the list
is complete. We have no others. There are
1,000 girls all over the country who dream
off a success on the stage which'is not based
upon purely dramatio ability, but alter the
names oi jura, langtry, Mrs. .rotter, Mrs.
Berlan-Gibbs, Mrs. Blaine, Mrs. Bloodgood.
Mrs. Dimpfel and Miss Elsie DeWolff,
there is nothing to come. Modjeska, Mary
Anderson, Ada Eehan, Marie Walnwright
and Julia Marlowe complain that there is
no place in America for women of dramatio
genius, and that the society amateurs are
crowding women ot ability to the wall. It
seems to me there is very little reason for
alarm. Personally I have yet to see a "so
ciety actress" who knows anything at all
about acting. Blakely Hall.
I00E TO I0UR PICTDEE COEDS.
A Suggestion for the Approaching Spring
Honso Cleaning,
London Globe.
A correspondent sends us, apropos of our
article dealing with "Portents," an account
of what he calls a singular circumstance.
When he was at school some 20 years ago
a prominent picture in the school dining
room came down with a run about the dinner-hour.
The same thing had happened
some years previously coincidently with
the death of a near relative of the head-,
master. The recurrence of a similar acci
dent caused our correspondent some anxie
ty, as it happened that his brother and sev
eral other of the boys were then lying ill.
No harm happened to these patients, but
the daughter of the house, a bright, cheer
ful little girl, was immediately carried off
by a relapse.
unis story may certainly be classed with
many others showing how mere coincidence
often begets a tradition, however unreason
able, of a casual relation between absolute
ly unconnected phenomena; and from this
point of view it is not worthy of any serious
examination, even by the society for Psy
chical Besearch. But it does lead to a
more practical reflection as to the careless
ness with which pictures are huog. House
holders are apt to consider that picture cords
are everlasting; and no doubt, the picture
cord of the good old times will last a very
long, time. But the modern wire, which is
preferred nowadays on account of its con
venience and light appearance, should al
ways be carefully examined from time to
time. It disintegrates sometimes very rap
idly, and is frequently entrusted with too
heavv a picture and frame. The movement
of the picture which constantly ocenrs,
helps on the natural action of gas and air
upon the cord, and hence the many acci
dents which every picture collector, who
does not take care, has from time to time to
regret When spring cleaning season re
turns, this is one of the points to which it
is always desirable to look.
A TELEGBAPIIEB TALKS.
Some Inventions That Aid, and
Some
Thoughts That Murder Sleep.
"The typewriter is a most useful inven
tion, but I doubt if anybody finds it of
greater assistance than the telegraph oper
ator." This remark was dropped byau expert
telegrapher of this city in the hearing of a
Dispatch reporter. Continuing he said :
"Not all operators are good penmen, yet,
however accomplished one may be in the
use of the pen, he will find it vastly easier
to take messages with the typewriter than
to write them out in the old way. A man
has to make his pen fly over the paper at a
great rate if he wishes to keep up with the
sender. The words are greatlyabbreviated,
and if he gets a few words behind he is
liable to become involved in a verbal laby
rinth that he cannot easily get out of. But
with the typewriter, one who is fairly ex
pert can take anything as fast as it comes.
There is no necessity for carrying words in
his head, and consequently very little
danger of making mistakes. '
"We are often called upon to take many
thousands of words for press dispatches in
a single night There are ail sorts of
stories, tales of murders, fires, floods and
casualties, which one doesn't want to re
member yet finds it impossible to forget.
After a hard night's work I frequently re
tire to dream of the messages I have been
receiving.and awake to find myself puzzling
my brain over the spelling of a name or try
ing t6 complete a half finished sentence.
It's wearing work, yet somebody has to do
it.
CHILDHOOD MENACED
By the Compulsory Education Wave
Sweeping Over the land.
DEATH IN CBOMD SCHOOLS.
Eotv Fresh Touth, Bright Bye and Active
Brain Can he Obliterated.
AH EXAMPLE OP EDUCATIONAL- F0ECE
f WEITTXK FOB THE DISPATCH.
THE little lad In
knickerbockers can
hardly stand on his
feet, those lieht,
skipping feet, which
rather flit than tread,
for this is his first
day at school. He
is to have that dearly
sought ambition to
be 'long with the
other boys." To be
snre, there has not
been a moment from
early breakfast till
school time and from
4 o'clock ml moon rise that he has not been
with them, In games and adventures. But
to be with the boys all day, not shut out
from them by the 9 o'clock bell, or com
pellsti to hover like a Peri in short pants
arbund the school door till 4 o'clock ; to
have "marks" and spell his way to the
head of classes and share the responsibili
ties of a boy's entire life so fill his soul that
he only eats on one leg, with his head
screwed over his left shonlder to catch the
first glimpse of his comrades. God bless1
the boy, but'the house is so very still with
out him, iUseems gone awry.
What does he find at school as its doors
close behind him? Have you never attend
ed a scientific association at its annual meet
ing and listened to topics notof thrilling in
terest, while you felt forbidden to move in
your seat or indulge in a cough or a yawn?
And didn't a forenoon or two prove enough
for you all that muscles and nerves cared
to bear? You can stand being shut in your
office day aftex day because some advantage
is coming of if, bnt when the result is mere
information, not exactly available in your
walk of life, it is remarkable how tired
your body feels after a day of hard sitting
still. But our boys drudge at their Society
for the Advancement of Useful Knowledge
week after week year after year, without
much idea ot the'service it may be to them.
They want to be at their natural gymnastics
of play and effort, which knit muscle and
sinew in that great virtue of hardihood, the
one thing which makes the difference, Prof.
Huxley says, and all successful men know,
between those who grasp success and their
fellows, equally well informed and talent
ed, who "lose their grip," on all that life
holds good.
HOW TO TEACH CUXCDEEir.
Our grandfathers thought it well to keep
boys at their lessons from daylight till dark,
and, in English phrase, "tended" them well
for not liking it as. well as being out with
the, larks. They were as well persuaded
their system was the best possible as we are
of ours to-day, and it seems just imaginable
that our habits may be as susceptible of im
provement. The best teachers, the born
teachers, who see into minds and capabili
ties, begin to find this out and move accord
ingly, in that wise magazine, Jiducatwn,
which parents ought to read as well as
teachers, the soundest, most sagacious men
adviso the taking up education topic by
topic, giving the whole attention to one or
two studies only at a time.
How supremely logical this is may be"
seen by any man who looks into his own
mind and knows that when he wants to
learn whist or roof laying, the advantages
of a country or the rights of the bi-metallio
questions, he gives himself to that, and to
that chiefly, till it is mastered. Putting
his force and interest at the question, it is
mastered without uneasy effort or loss of
time. There is a pleasure in the sense of
gaining information which supersedes every
thing else for the time. This is the natural
way of teaching children. It is the way
they have to begin, for they cannot take
any other study till they have learned to
read a feat they accomplish, with tender
brains, in far less time than they learn any
thing else, because they give undivided at
tention to it. lins faculty ot concentrating
the mind on one thing, which is the great
element of success in things little and large,
is most studiously ruined by our present
education. We chide a child for not learn
ing a lesson or filling an order well, because,
nrn 0AW h A 1aaa av mwn Uia mm J Aa t
when his whole training has been to inter
rupt and divert the habit of fixing his
mind.
HOW TO ADDLE BBAIXS.
In the system of the public schools near
est me, which is held to.be one of the best
in the State and as near perfection as prin
cipals can make it, hardly two days in the
week have lessons on the same branches.
The plan is so broken up with elocution one
day, grammar the next, drawing one hour,
political discussion the next and mathe
matics to follow, that my own brain would
be addled in trying to go through it, and it
is a wonder that the pupils can carry over
from one week to another what they learned
the week before. t The mind, properly
speaking, has no training by such methods.
It receives a mass of information minced
and mixed, indigestible as mince pie, and
not half so inviting.
It is told of Agassiz the elder, that, shut
ting himself up to the sole study o'f a diffi
cult language, he could so master it in six
weeks as to read a scientific treatise in it
with ease. To do this, in a language of
different character from the Boman; is a
teat, but to master one of the continental
tongues in six weeks' close study is within
the power of any well-trained mind. Yet
how few dream themselves capable of this
moderate undertaking, simply for the
reason that not one in 10,000 is well trained
or ever will be under our present hop-and-skip
methods. Yet think of the service such
faculty would be. in mercantile life, to
travelers, to lawyers and legislators, to peo
ple in new Territories. I declare that for
want of such training common society, to
one who has the use of his mind, is like
consorting with a community of congenial
cripples, born without limbs and awkward
in the use of what they own.
WHAT Y0UIfaSTEB3 CAK DO.
That children are capable of learning all
they are desired to know with a third the
time and drudgery inflicted at present, I
know by actual experience, and an experi
ence of my own is not out of. place here.
More yearasince than I can stop to count,
at the ripe age of 17, 1 was teacher of a.
country school with a few boys, who had
the name of pretty hard scholars. I was
warned that they would not study and they
would moke trouble, which came true. But
they were sturdy boys, to whom open air
life was indispensable, and 'my good angel
made me hit upon the idea of. promising
them that whenever their lessons were well
learned and recited they should be dis
missed to play. They conldhave won medals
for good conduct after that, and the
clumsy, horrible lessons were turned off
with ease and precision.' My "bad boys"
were the comfort ofmylife,and were improv
ing briskly, when the School Committee, in
the person of our hard old farmer, got wind
of it and interfered. Those boys must be
brought in, and if they could learn and re
cite three times a day in one study, with
time to spare, they must recite six times,
and If they wouldn't, I must "lick 'em." It
was useless to point to the fact that the boys
had already learned in a month more than
in two sessions of the old way. "Ihe ker
niittee' must be obeyed, and after one con
scientious struggle to carry out tbe plan I
threw up the school, vowing to myself that
I would scrub floors for a living before I
would ever teach school again. Suppose
yourself shut up la jail six hours a day io
learn the higher mathematics and the
dreariest essays on criticismSi you ever
skipped Jn magazines, and yon may feel
what ordinary schooling is to children.
Not one parent in a thousand ever knows
the inside of a school building where his
children spend most of their waking lives.
I own that, calling for my lad one day in
school hours, I was obliged to step down
stairs to get fresh air while waiting. It was
December, and the heat must have been 80
degrees in the room, where the breath of 60
-children, the smell of the boys clothing,
not tne cleanest, aud of stale juncneons
mixed a powerful brew that almost drove
me choking to the porch.
DANGEE DT THE SCHOOLBOOM.
The effect of such air on teachers is pros
trating and pitiable. I recall the beautiful
graduates of the New York ITorinal College
as they used to pass in filmy dress, with
bouquets of loose roses, and the same girls
not five years after, aged as they should cot
be at 60, their complexions faded and lined,
their hair fast turning gray, their eyes pale
and tired as all women grow who lead in
door lives at desk or counter, breathing im
pure air and leading a monotonous, vexing
routine. And if the school air thus affects
women, what is it to the children? The
epidemics of scarlet fever, diphtheria ana
whooping cough which- ravage our towns,
greater and lesser, must answer. It is idle
in most cases to Took at home for the trouble.
Dead air, breathed over ,and over by
scores of lungs, 60 times and'more an hour,
is precisely the same poison which exudes
froma dead body in process of decay, and
deposits the seeds of tubercle and putrid
sore throat in the living tissue. I know a
child kept at home for what was supposed
mere sore throat, whose mother called the
attention of the doctor just as he was leav
ing to a rash the child had borne for two or
three days. To the horror of all concerned
it was scarlet fever, unsuspected by anyone,
and bat for the chance remark the child
would have played as usual with its mates
and gone to school. In another case the
mother in dressing a boy noticed dull red
pimple3 on the back and sent him to the
physician before school time. The inspector
poohed at sending him a littlehreaking out
caused by taking cold, but by noon the boy
came home so ill that the family doctor was
sent for and diagnosed at once a case of
chickenpox so virulent that it could hardlv
be reckoned less than smallpox itself. The
disease had been taken at school, and when
we know that chickenpox is only a lesser
form of smallpox, dangerous if neglected,
the risk of ha3ty inspection manifest I
speak only of what comes within my limited
experience. Teachers could tell 'far more
tales.
EXE ASD BBAET AT STAKE.
When it comes to failure of the eye the
evil is too well known to require many
words. On the Continent it is remarked by
the ablest doctors, that near sight and
trouble with the eyes follows fast upon com
pulsory education, and the prize scholars
and winners in competitive examinations
gain the,ir desire only to find it useless from
failure of eye or brain in a short time. The
light in the center of great classrooms can
not be strong on cloudy days, while those
next the windows in clear weather find it
absolutely glaring. Add to this the poor
type of cheap school books, the evening
study demanded, the effect of foul air on the
nerves of the eye, and there is too good rea
son for the weakness of sight which increases
in schools and among graduates. The evil,
though hidden, is not dead. In too many
cases the amauroses or palsy of sight, which
is the first distressing sign of age, has to be
traced to the injury done in early life In the
schoolroom.
Iu face of these dangers, not exaggerated
or half so startling as the records of candid
teachers, we are confronted by a movement,
not to free the public schools from these in
jurious conditions, but to crowd them still
more by the most rigid laws for compulsory
attendance. The most refined and intelli
gent people of England are fighting the ogre
of compulsory education in the kingdom,
and we are allowing short-sighted Grad
grinds to fashion the tetters on our society
that the education rate per head may appear
sufficiently cheap to satisfy the stingiest
voters.
ONE SAD EXAMPLE.
If you could see the end from the begin
ning, education in mere book learning would
not be valued higher than life and health
and social adaptation, as it is held. Since I
wrote the last paper in this series Tstoodby
the deathbed' of one of the most finely gifted,
women brain, beauty, delicate, enduring
physique and personal character to be found
among women. For more than 20 years life
had been one almost unbroken anguish of
such pain as seems incredible. Her doctors
such men as Seguin and Hamilton, spe
cialties in nervous disease said it was the
pain of cancer without its hope of speedy re
lease. Borne bravely, heroically, silently.
through those long years, she never excused
herself one duty the trembling hands wera
able to perform, but with corpse-like face,
pausing for the intervals of maddening
pam, went about her household tasks till
mind and body both gave way, at the very
last And this terrible doom was traced to
her education. The bright girl, overpressed
with studies to gratify the pride of her
family, broke down with brain fever at 14,
recovered only to be urged along the same
route, with Latin, Greek, higher mathe
matics, belles Iectres, beside accomplish
ments, all taken not in smattering, but with
the thoroughness and conscience which
marked all she did. Prom graduation she
went at once as teacher in a large and bril
liant ladies' school, and, worn out there in
a few years, wishinc rest and a home of her
own, she married God help her! a home
missionary, the last man in the world she
should have chosen.
She died, murdered as truly as if the
knife had been set across her throat, who
should have known ten good years of life
longer. The very friend who had brought
relief to her pain over and over, whose
touch had soothed her delirium, was forbid
den to remove her to purer air, or to employ
a trained nurse at her own expense to attend
the dying woman. In her last hours of
peace years fell from her like a garment,
and so fair, so bright she seemed with her
tender tones and quick jesting as of one at
ease in soul and body, It was trebly hard to
let so much sweetness and grace go out of
the world by the contrivance of coarse,
merciless natures, tired of caring for her so
long. But by her dead form I swore that
such force as I have should go to t revent
women from suffering such cruel lives, if
plain speech and truth-telling could hinder
them. God knows there is little enough
tiuth in the world and sorrowful need for
its being told. Let it tell against whom it
will, I care not. It is time for old theories
to be taken down, shaken, dusted and
roved whether they will do 1 4 keep out the
ght awhile longer, or whether they are
disease-haunted, insect-eaten and falling of
their ownweight Shielet Dabb.
AH IHTEEESTING EEMLNISCESCB
Of a Eteamb-at Journey Up the Allegbesy
Into Now York State. .
"That idea was formulated nearly 60
years ago," remarked an old citizen speak
ing of the proposition recently put forward
to connect Lake Erie and the Allegheny
river by means of a canal. "There were
people who believed in the feasibility of the
project even in those days, and it was dis
cussed in the newspapers at various times.
"Perhaps you are not aware that a Pitts
burg steamer once made a voyage up the
Allegheny into New York State. No?
Welt it is a fact, and as any file of old
Pittsburg papers will prove."
"Please tell me about it," said the re
porter. "That I can do, for my father was a pas
senger on the boat and X have heard him
speak of the journey many times. The
boat was named the Allegheny,and she made
several trips to points far up the Allegheny
river. In the spring of 1830 she ascended
as far as Olean, N. Y., arriving there just
a week after leaving Pittsburg. The pas-
sengersVere allowed time to visit the cele
brated Indian, Cornplanter, at the village
where he resided, 17 miles above Warren.
The bost carried a large number of passen
gers and a good deal of freight going and ""
Mturnlng.,r