SSF3: ?v JCf" 'W SECOND PART. E PITTS t "j u PAGES 9TOI6; r 1", 111 II I I L I I A I I , I -. e 'J .5 . M -" M I IV I I 1 1 V LA I I 1-1 " m H f i m I m ' STORY OF THE ZB"X" (3 - Author O DOWN, grand father. I -will keep watch." 'ill '"' But the old man to whom the words were spoken shook his shaven head. "But up here you will get no rest" "And the stars? Or even below; rest, in such times as these? Throw my cloak over me. Best, in such a feariul night'." Tou are so cold; and your hand and the instrument shake." "Then steady my arm." The lad willingly obeyed the request; but after a short space he exclaimed: "It is all in vain. Star after star is swallowed ud in black clouds. Ah, and the hitter cry of the city come up. iTay, it comes from our own house. I am sick at heart, grandfather; only feel how hot my head is. Come down, perchance they need help." ''That is in the hands of the gods, and my place is here. But there, there, eternal gods! Xook to the north across the lake! 2fo, more to the westward. They come from the city of the dead!" "Oh, grandfather, father, therel" cried the youth, a priestly neophyte, who was lending his aid to an elder whose grandson he was, the chief astrologer of Amon-Ea. They were standing on the watchtower of the templeof the god at Tanis, the capital of the Pharaohs, in the north of the land of Goshen. As he spoke he drew away his shoulder on which the old man was leaning. "There, there! Is the sea swallowing up the land? Have ine clouds lalien on the earth to surge to and fro? Oh, grandfather, may the immortals have mercy! the nether world is yawningl The great serpent Apeo is come forth from the city of the dead! It comes romng past tne temple. I see it, I hear it! The great Hebrew's threat is being fulfilled! Our race will be cut off from the earth. The serpent! Its head is set toward the Southeast. It will surely swallow up the young sun when it rises in the morning!" The old man's eye iollowed the direction of the youth's finger, and he, too, could dis cern that a vast, black mass, whose outline was lost in the darkness, came rolling through the gloom, and he, too, heard with a' shudder the creature's low roar. Both stood with eye and ear alert, staring into the night; but the star-gazer's eye was fixed not upward, but down, across the city to the distant sea and level plain. Over head all was silent, and vet not all at rest for the wind swept the "dark clouds into shapeless masses in one place, while in an other it rent the gray shroud and scattered them far and wide. The moon was not visible to mortal ken, but the clouds played hide and seek with the bright Southern stars, now covering them, and now giving their rays free pas- Xameri and His Grandson Watching the Start. Bage. And as in tbe firmament, so on earth there was a constant change from pallid light to blackest darkness. Now the glitter of the heavenly bodies flashed brightly down on the sea and .estuary, on the polished granite sides of obelisks in the temple pre cincts and the gilt copper roof of the'King's airy palace; and again, lake and river, the sails in the harbor, the sanctuaries and streets of the city, and the palm-strewn plain surrounaing it, were all lost in gloom Objects which the eye tried to rest on vanished in an instant, and it was the same with the sounds that met the ear. For a while the silence would be as deep as though all life, far and near, were hushed or dead, and then a piercing shriek of woe rent the stillness of the night Andthen, broken by longer or shorter pauses.that roar was heard which the youthful priest had taken for the voice of the serpent of the nether world; and to that the grandfather and grandson listened with growing excitement , The duskv shape, whose ceaseless move ments could "be clearly made out whenever the stars shot their beams between the striving clouds, had Its beginning out by the city of the dead and the stranffers' quarter. A sudden fanio lad fallen on the J nsra iS31. v-"i.y JOSHUA EOIG - IE IB IE IR,S, of "UARDA," "SERAPIS," Etc. (NOW 'FIRST PUBLISHED.) old man as on the young one, but he was quicker to recover himself, and his keen and practiced eye soon discerned that it was not a single gigantic form which was rising from the necropolis to cross the plain, but a multitude of moving creatures who seemed to be surging or swaying to and fro on the meadow land. Nor did the hollow hum and wailing come up from one particular spot, hut was audible now nearer and now more remote. Anon he fancied that it was rising from the bosom of the earth, and then again that it fell from some airy height Fresh terror came upon the old astrologer. He seized his grandson's hand in his right hand, and pointinc with his left to the city of the dead, he cried in a trembling voice: "The dead are too many in number. The nether world overflows, as the river does when its bed is too narrow for the waters of the south. How thev swarm and sway and surge on! How they part, hither and thither. These are theghosts of the thousands whom black death hath snatched away, blasted by the Hebrew's curse, and sent un buried, unprotected from corruption, to de scend the rungs of the ladder which leads to the world without end.'" "Yea, it is thev!" cried the other, in fall belief. He snatched his'hand from the old man's grasp, and struck his fevered and burning brow, exclaiming, though hardly able to speak for terror, "They the damned! The wind has blown them to the sea, and its waters spew them out and cast them on the land again, and the blesed earth rejects them and drives them into the air. The pure ether of Shoo flings them back to the ground, and now look, listen! Thev are groaning as they seek the way to the desert" "To the fire!" cried the elder. "Flame, nurifv them: water, cleanse them!" The youth joined in the old priest's form of exorcism, and while they chanted it in unison the trap door was lifted which led to this observatory on the top of the highest gate of the temple,' and a priest or Humble grade cried to the old man: "Cease thy labors. "Who cares now for the stars of heaven when all that has life is being darkened on earth?" The eld priest listened speechless, till the messenger went on to say that it was the as trologer's wife who had sent for him, and then he gasped out: "Hora? Is my son then likewise stricken?" The priest then bent his head, and both his hearers wept bitterly, for the old man was bereft of his first-born son, and the' lad of a tender father. But when the boy, trembling with fever, fell sick and sorrowing on his grandfather's breast the elder hardily freed himself from his embrace and went to the trap door; for al though the priest had announced himself as the messenger of death, it needs more than the bare word of another to persuade a father to give up all hope of life for his child. Tbe old man went quickly down the stone stairs, through the lofty halls and wide courts of the temple, and the lad followed him, although his shaking knees could scarcely carry his fevered frame. The blow which had fallen within his own little circle had made the old man forget the fearful portent which threatened the whole world perhaps with ruin; but the boy could not get rid of the vision, so when he had passed the first court and was in sight of the outermost pylons, to his terrified and anxious soul it seemed as though tbe shadows of the obelisks were spinning round, while the two stone statues of King Barneses on the corner piers of the great gate beat time with the crook in his hand. At this the lad dropped fever-stricken on the ground. A convulsion distorted his features and tossed his slender frame to and fro in frantic spasms; and the old man, fall ing on his knees, while he guarded the curly head from striking the hard stone flags, moaned in a low Yoice: "Now it has fallen on him 1" Suddenly he collected himself and shouted aloud for help, but in vain, and again in vain. At last his voice fell; he sought con solation in prayer. Then he heard a sound of voices from tbe avenue of sphinxes lead ing to the great gate, and new hope revived in his heart Who could it be who was arriving at so late an hour ? Mingled with cries of grief, the chanting of priests tell on his ear, the tinkle and clatter of the metallic sistrum shaken by holy women in honor of the god, and the measured -footfall of men praying as they marched on. A solemn procession was approaching. The astrologer raised his eyes, and alter glancing at the double line of granite col umns, colossal statues and obelisks in the great court, looked up, in obedience to the habits of a lifetime, at the starry heavens above, and in the midst'of his woe a bitter smile parted his sunken lips, for the gods this night lacked the honors that were their due. For on this night the first after the new moon in the month of Pharmutee the sanc tuary in former years was wont to be gay with garlands of flowers. At the dawn of day alter this moonless night the high festi val of the spring equinox should begin, and with it the harvest thanksgiving. At this time a grand procession marched through the city to the river and haroor, as prescribed by the Book of the Divine Birth of the Sun, in honor of the great goddess Neith, of Bennont who bestows the gifts of the field, and of Horns, at whose bidding the desert blooms; bnt to-sjpy the silence of death reigned in the sanctuary, whose court- EXODUS. yards should have been crowdedat this hour with men, women and children, bringing offerings to lay on the very spot where his grandson lay under the hand of death. A broad beam of light suddenly tell into the vast court, which till now had been but dimly lighted by a few lamps. Could they be so mad as to think that the glad festival might be held in spite of the nameless hor rors of the past night Only the evening before the priests in council had determined that during this pitiless pestilence the temples were to be left unadorned and processions to be pro hibited. By noon yesterday many had failed to attend, because the plague had fallen on their households, and the terror had now come into this very sanctuary, while he, who coujd read the stars, had been watching them in their courses. "Why else should it have been deserted by the watchmen and other astrologers, who had been with him at sunset, and whose duty it was to keep vigil here all night? He turned once more to tbe suffering boy with tender anxiety, but instantly started to his feet, for the gates were opened wide and the light of torches and lanterns poured into the temple court A glance at the sky showed him that it was not long past mid- EGTPTIAITS STONING night, and yet his fears were surely well grounded these must be the priests crowd ing intothe temple to prepare for the har vest festival. Not so. For when had they come to the sanctuary for this purpose chanting and in procession? Nor were these all servants of the divinity. The populace had joined them. In that sol emn litany he could hear the shrill wailing of women mingled, with wild cries of despair such as he had never before, in the course of a long life, heard within these consecrated walls. Or did his senses deceive him? "Was it the groaning horde of unresting souls whjch he had seen from the observatory who were crowding into the sanctuary of the god? Fresh horror fell upon him; he threw up his arms in prohibition, and for a few mo ments repeated the formula against the malice of evil spirits; but he presently dropped his hands, for he marked among the throng some friends who yesterday, at any rate, had been in the land of the living. Foremost, the tall figure of the second prophet of the god, then the "women devoted to the service of Amon-Ea, the singers and the holy fathers, and when at last, behind the astrologers and pastophoroi, he saw his son-in-law, whose home had till yesterday been spared by the plague, he took heart and spoke to him. But his voice was drowned by the song and cries of the coming multitude. The courtyard was now fully lighted; bnt everyone was so absorbed in his own sonow that no one heeded the old astrologer. He snatched the cloak off his own shivering body to make a better pillow for the boy's tossing head, and while he did so, with fatnerly care, he could hear among the chanting and wailing of the approaching crowd, first, frantic curse's on the Hebrews, through whom these woes had fallen on Pharaoh and his people, and then, again and again, the nameof the heir to the crown, Prince Barneses, and the tone in which it was spoken, and the formulas ot mourning which were added, announced to all who had ears to hear that the eyes of the first born or tbe King on his throne were also sealed in death. , As he gazed with growing angdish in his grandson's pale face the lamentations for tbe prince rang out a'resh and louder than ever, and a faint tense of satisfaction crept into his soul at the impartiality of. death, who spared not tbe sovereign on his throne any more than the beggar by tbe wayside. He knew not what had brought this noisy inronE w ' Bnsuanri - ,j PITTSBURG, SUNDAY, He went forward with such haste as his old limbs would allow to meet the column of mourners, but before he could join them he saw the gatekeeper and his wife come out of the gatehouse, bearing between them on a mat the corpse of a boy. The husband held one end, his frail, tiny wife held the other, and the stalwart man had to stoop low to keep their stiff burden in a hori zontal position that it might not slip down toward the woman. Three children closed the melancholy party, and a little girl holding a lantern led the way. No one, perhaps, would have observed them but that the gatekeeper's wife shrieked forth her griefs so loudly and shrilly that it was impossible not to hear her cries. The second prophet or Anion turned to his com panions; the procession came to a standstill, and, as some of tbe priests went nearer to the body, the father cried in a loud voice: "Away, away from the plague-stricken I Our first born is dead I" Thn mnhaw moantvhild hart enafnnpn tnA lantern from her little daughter, and, hold ing it so as to throw a light on the face of the dead bov, she shrieked out: "The god'hath suffered it to come to pass. Tea, even under our own roof. But it is not his will, but the enrse of the stranger in the land that has come over us and our lives. Behold, this was our first born; and two temple servants have likewise been taken. One is dead already; he is lying in our little room yonder; and there see, there lies young Bamus, the grandson of Bameri, the star-reader. "We heard the old man railing, and saw what was happening, but who can hold another man's house up when his own is falling about his ears? Beware while it is yet time, for the gods have opened even the temple gates to the abomination, and it the whole world should perish I should not be surprised and never complain certainly, not My lords and priests, I am but a poor and humble woman, but am I not in the right when I ask: Areour gods asleep, that a magic spell has bound them? Or what are they doing, and where are they, that they leave us and oar children in the power of the vile Hebrew race?" "Down with theml Down, with the strangers! They are magicians; into the sea with Mesu, the sorcerer!" As an echo follows a cry, so did these im precations follow the woman's curse, and Hornecht, the old astrologer's son-in-law, Captain ot the archers, whose, blood boiled over at the sight of his dying, fair young nephew, brandished his short sword and cried in a frenzy of rage: "Follow me, every man who has a heart! At them! Life for life! Ten Hebrews for each Egyptian whom their sorcerer has killed!" As a flock will rush into the fire if only tbe ram leads the way, the crowd flocked to follow the noble warrior. The women pushed in front of the men, thronging the doorway, and as the servants of the sanctuary hesitated till they should know the opinion of the prophet of Amon, their leader drew up his majestic figure, and said deliberately: "All who wear priestB robes remain to pray with me. The people are the instru ment of heaven, and it is theirs to repay. "We stay here to pray for success to their vengeance." CHAPTER H. Baie, the second prophet of Amon, who acted as deputy for the now infirm old head prophet and high priest Buie, withdrew into the holy ot holies, and while the multi tude of the interior ministers of the god pro ceeded to their various duties, the infuriated crowd hurried through the streets of the town to the strangers' quarter. As a swollen torrent raging through a valley carries down with it everything in its way, so the throng, as they rushed to their revenge, compelled everyone on their way to join them. Every Egyptian from whom death had snatched his nearest and dearest was ready to join the swelling tide, and it grew till it numbered hundreds of thousands. Men. women and children, slaves and free. borne on the wings of their desire to wreak ruin and death on- the-dtserted Hrfcews,..tneirregniar occupation and' come to the' THE ISEAELITE3. flew to the distant quarter where they dwelt How this artisan had laid hold of a chop per or that housewife had clutched an ax thev themselves scarcely knew. They rushed on to kill and destroy, and they had not sought the weapons they needed; they had found them ready to their hand. Tbe first they hoped to fall upon in their mad fury was Nun, a venerable Hebrew, respected and beloved by many a man rich in herds, who had done much kindness to the Egyptians; but where hatred and re venge make themselves heard gratitude stands shy and speechless in the back ground. His lari?B estates lav. like thn linnspn and huts of the men ot his race, to the west of Baie, the High JPriett, MeditaUt on the Fuiwt of Egypt. i Tanis, tbe strangers' quarter, and were the nearest of them all to the streets inhabited by the Egyptians themselves. At this mornitng hour Nun's flocks and herds were wont to be taken, first to water Mesu is the Egyptian form ot the name of Moses. "lIMaMMMMMMiMnRlilSMWMiliiiMiilllfa v Wlsafe? J&fiw&J srwwassw mwii95hMi,iilxBJ OCTOBER 6, 1889. A FEENCH VINEYARD. Gathering the Grapes That Make the Famous Wines of France. HOW THE PICKEES WOEK AND LIVE. Singing to and From Work lite Comic Opera Peasants. SOME PACTS ABOUT POPULAR WISES ICOEEESrONDENCE Or THE DISPATCH. I ABIS, September 21. A grape vine grow ing in front of one's own house, stretching out its many tendrils, and laden in the early autumn with vermil 'ion bunches, is a pretty sight; but you should see the hill sides and high valleys of those parts of France where wine is made if VOU would like to know something about the nectar for which this country is so famous. Name me other wines that equal those of France. "Where else can you find such fluids as her Medocs, Burgundies and sparkling wines? I am fondest of the grand cms of Sauterne, or those Bordeaux that have bouquet, lim pidity and the transparent color of a ruby, but champagne is at the head of all of them a3 a social wine. Let me tell you, then, of grape gathering as it goes on in valleys or among the hills, where sparkling wines par excellence are produced, and of which Ay, Bheims and Epernay are the chief places. MCTUBESQUE VAGABONDS. The mam road from Paris to Strasbourg is filled with these vine-gatherers, as they call themselves, but thousands of them are vagabonds. The rascals tramp in separate bands, and frighten the country people, from whom they exact food and lodging, beyond all endurance. Gendarmes are few in number, and if all the scamps were caught their captors would be puzzled to know where to put them. At Ay these gentry establish themselves on the banks of the canal; and it is a strange sight to see them in their improvised camps of an after noon. Some are washing their clothes or haneing them to dry on bushes; others are cooking stolen potatoes over fires of wood sneaked from adjacent vineyards, and some are stretched out on the earth asleep of plaving with dogs resting themselves for the exploits of the night to come. Acer tain number go through the town under the pretext of searching for work, but in reality to beg here a piece of bread, there money or liquor; they are always insolent and menacing, to old people. t In the daytime pickets are placed wherever the necessity is felt, and at night the inhabitants take up arms and guard their vineyards. It is imprudent to go from Epernay to Ay or vice versa a dis tance ot two miles at most without a good revolver. Every few moments a shadow emerges from the hedge, and asks you the time or for a light, and talking is heard under the bridges where the gangs take refuge when it looks rainy. OF THE BEAT. WOBKEBS. The greater number belong in the district or are from tbe environs. Laboring men vineyards where they can earn more than usual. There are also a good many who come from Sainte-Menehould and from Lor raine. These latter, or at least those who bring them, are already known by tbe pro prietors. They have been employed in pre ceding years and are informed by letter when their services will be required. Those who hail from Lorraine arrive in four wheeled wagons drawn by mules long carts in which 25 persons manage to pack them selves the women wearing a small blue bonnet or a handkerchiet on their heads, tbe men in stout high boots and blouses. Hang ing from the wagon are baskets for the vint age, also packsaddles, which will be hired at a good price to convey to the main roads the barrels of crapes that are gathered on the slopes of Hautvillers, Ay and Avenay. Each party calls immediately on the pro prietor, and he at once forms "hordons," that is to say, groups of workmen whom he requires to vintage such and such a field in the shortest time possible. Everyone, then, has a sleeping place allotted to them, usually in a granary, where a thick, bed of straw has been laid down. HIEING THE HANDS. At 3 o'clock in the morning reveille sounds, but already the market place, or the square in front of the Mayor's' office, is crowded. It is the time ot hiring, and those overseers ot the vineyards whose hordons are not vet complete, come here to get the men and women they need, or the mules and wagons that they are in want of. Wages and prices are established according to the state of the vintage, the weather and the number of hands seeking employment These recompenses vary from one year to another. In 1888 wages went down as low as 1 franc, while in the previous year 5 or 6 francs were paid. The porters of casks are better paid than are the gatherers ot grapes, which is easily understood,considering their work is ever so mnch more fatiguing. Mules fetch IS or 20 francs the pair, some times more, and one-horse carts bring about the same. Engagements made-they go to the propri etor's house, or to that of the overseer, where there are boilers of steaming cabbage soup emitting an appetizing odor. Ven dangeurs and vendangeuses sit down to the table, and soup and bread quickly disap pear. WOBKING IK THE YINEYABDS. "When all is ready for the start away they go, stout porters at tbe bead of the column, and they sing love songs, patriotic songs and ditties. The vines, humid with dew, lie under a floating mist, which, however, slowly disap pears with the first rays of sun. "Serpettes" or knives are drawn; the vintagers gather with the greatest care the .grapes, which are placed in casks, and porters convey them to the road with even more care than ever, for it is very important that they be not crushed before being put in the press, other wise the must is liable to take a reddish tint that diminishes its market value. At noon they eat dinner. The repast con sists ofbacon, cheese, plenty of bread and a little wine. Then the hands lie down for an hour to sleep,, or they go into the woods on the border of the vineyard at the top of the hill. At nightfall there is a general de parture of everybody. If the vines are finished, the "hordons" carry a branch of flowers decorated with ribbon, they sing the songs, not quite so lively, perhaps, as they did in the early morning, and from all sides in the calm of that same evening are herd distant choruses, in which dominates the soft voices of women and children. PBESSING THE GEAPES. Now the pressers come on the scene. "Under the orders of a master, men fill the box, then, seizing the large wheels of the old machine, they put in action an enormous screw. Crush the cranes, and thfl nmher infon flows into an oblong vintage tab called tbe J cave. This work is all done by candle 1 iiKut, ana so tne entire night passes, divided betueen the working of the press, which is filled and refilled, and games of all sorts, largely dosed with red wine. Nearly all the wine produced in the champagne district is known as the spark ling kind, and very little red wine exists In Jfji-K iiifiP The same black grape which was the mother of those dark wines yields at present the juice for that pale kind which in its spark ling state ranks uppermost in the estimation of the wine consuming public Tbe grapes of Ay, Epernay, and elsewhere that cham- fiagne is made, has to be passed very rapid y from the press to avoid all fermentation in the berries and all coloring of the must The must is not immediately barreled, but lies from 12 to 24 hours in the vats so that it may deposit all its coarser dregs; then it is drawn in to scrupnlnnsly clean and sulphured barrels. In these the wine generally fer- "Ufa im3KAliJmym r.rfIf-i T Siring the Gatherer. ments until Christmas. If rich in sugar this fermentation will progress very slow ly, and will be the more rapid the less sugary particles the must contains. STOBINO THE WINE. ' In the second half of December the wine is drawn off for the first time, without tak ing any notice of the particular state of the atmosnuere. Now is the time to mix the different qualities. After this operation the wine is cleared with gelatine or ising glass, and then drawn off again through a double sieve of hair and silk, which is placed on the funnel. Generally speaking, very little gelatine is used; bnt in most LXgkxf --dSC SCENE TS A PBENCH VINETABD. cases a little tannin in the liqnid state is added to the wine as a preservative against various maladies. By the month of March it is all in bottles, and six weeks after it be comes brisk. The sediment that collects in the neck of the horizontal bottles has then to be removed by taking out the corks, emptying part of it and adding fresh wine. In July and August the hundreds ot thousands of bottles that are stored in the limestone cellars at Ay and Epernay and, Bheims flv and shatter bv .scores, and. work men have to-fvdown with vrire- masks oaJa try and stop the popular effervescence. The pressure which this gas exercises in the bottles amounts to four, five, or even six atmospheres, but infallibly burst tbe bottles lousing the Grapes. when it attains the height of seven or eight atmospheres. As to the sparkling canacity of the wine, it is generally the case that the kind of wine which explodes loudest sparkles but little when standing in the. glass; whereas, on the other hand, the wine that sparKies Drissuy and lively explodes with but a weak sound. The temperature the wine is kept In is all-important) for the higher it is the easier the carbonic acid de velops itself. Champagne that has been placed on ice for a considerable time will not foam at all; and in all Paris there is not a single restaurant or hotel where you can find champagne on ice ready for immediate use. Henby Haynie. HE CALLED THE TORN. A Congressman's Smart Dor Jokes at tbo Old Man's Expense. St. Louis Bepabllc. Ex-Congressman John J. O'Neill has a brieht bov who is a veritable son of his .father, in that he knows a good story when he hears it The other day O Neill pere was in one of his, most joeular moods, and rattled off a string of conundrums and an ecdote s for the deelctation of the lad. Finally the little fellow looked up and said: "Papa, I want you to buy me a gray squirrel." "Indeed, I won't Squirrels are very un pleasant house pets. Go out to the Zoo when you want to see 'em, but we can't be bothered with such things at home." "Well," said the lad with a twinkle in his eye as he got ont of reach, "I've got to have something to crack your chestnuts, and I thought a gray squirrel would do it." Objected to a Syndicate. Blownup Herrlngton Can't yer help a poor blind man? Sawmill Veteran No, I can't; you jest move on. I ain't foroin' no charity trust "B fcl IEAENED TO WIT AT ?. An Aged Sotber Practice Penmanship for Her Son's Benett. Brooklyn tUen.J I heard a minister say that during the Civil War he was preaching toa congrega tion in a little country town in Pennsyl vania, and among his members was a woman 65 years old who had a son in the army. She was telling the clergyman, one day when he called at her house, how glad she'd be if she knew how to write, for there were so many family secrets that she did not like to divulge when dictating a letter to be sent to her boy. The parson said: "My good woman, 'never too old to learn,' why not learn to write?" To his surprise she immediately brought him some foolscap and asked him "to write her some copier," which be did, and in three month from that time he had occa sion to call at her house, and to his utter astonishment she brought him a plainly written letter to read that she intended for her son. An indefatigable will, persever ance and love for her son accomplished what she desired, in spite of the drawbacks of old age. ENT1EELI TOO LITERAL. Tlionsht Be Blast Kit on the Pump to Write a Composition. Atlanta Journal.1 Tommy Jones was not a very bright boy, and when his teacher, at the close of school one afternoon, told him he must write a a composition on the pump to-morrow, he took her at her word. The next morning, therefore, instead of starting to school at the usual hour, he mounted the big wooden box pump in the yard, and with, his slate on his knees began to write the desired composi tion, But Tommy's father happening to pass that way discovered him and asked why he was not off to school. And when the boy replied that the teacher had toll iim to r write a composition on the pump, lit. Jonesburstoutina hearty laugh, much to Tommy's surprise. An explanation followed and the. boy jumped down from the pump and started for school, convinced that he needn't ait on a pump to write a composition on a pump or about a pump. A BALD HEADED ISLAKD.-r" V FccaUar.0rIs.lB of tWVsrasofalKeehy jIU ,A. . - -n., in taa Bound. " -j , . How York HeraloVT i The name-of Louis Mathot will go thun dering down to the ages, not in history, per haps, but in geography. An uncommon honor has been paid to the genial French lawyer Louis Mathot in the christeningof an island. Ton may not find Mathot Island on any existing chart, bnt it will doubtless appear in the due coarse of time. It is in the Sound, not far from City Island, and it now boasts two inhabitants, a man and a dog. A census taker would note two structures there, a very small house and a very tall flagstaff, from which the French tri-color floats under the Stars and Stripes. Mathot Island is a ragged rock, nearly oval in shape. It is a favorite resort for a small number of enthusiastic fishermen, in cluding several members of the French colony. One of these gentlemen thought that the outline of the island was like that of Mr. Mathot's bald head, and this marked resemblance resulted in the formal baptism of Mathot Island. Of course Mr. Mathot feels highly flattered, for if there is any one thing he is proud of it is of that shiny pate that he would not lose for all the world. It is one of the great sights of the French quar ter, where the lawyer exercises a consider able influence in politics as President of the French Democratic Union. EXPECTED 15 BOOK. A Party of Visitor. Who Canght the Hostess t Unawares. Washington Post All the music lovers of Washington know the brilliant contralto, Lizzie Macnichol (Mrs. Frank Vetta). It is only a few months ago since she gave np her Washing ton home to go to the one her husband pro vided for her in Philadelphia. Like the plain, matter-of-fact little woman she is, she plunges into the mysteries and duties of housekeeping with a perfect delight The change from stage life to domesticity is al ways hailed by her with joy. She does not hesitate even to arm herself with a brush and scrub off the white marble hearth stones. those lares and penates which do dnty for doorsteps all over Philadelphia. She was engaged in that soulful occupa tion one morning not long ago, with a hand kerchief tied down around her head in the good old way she learned in Washington, when a party of her nwell friends drove up. "Is Mrs. Vetta in?" the supposed servant was asked. "Mrs. Vetta is not In at present," was the very truthful answer. "Can you.fell us when she will be-in?" "Just as soon as she finishes washing the front door steps," she replied with a merry laugh, disclosing her identity at the same time. BACILLI OX BALD HEADS. Microbes That Eat the Hair and Make the Scalp Smooth. Medical Joornal.1 Saymonne claims to have isolated a bacillus, called by him "bacillus crini vorax," which is the cause of alopecia. It is, he says, fonnd only on the scalp of man, other hirsute parts of the bodyjmd also the fur of animals being free from it The bacilli invade the hair-follicles and make the hair very brittle so that they break off to the skin. Then the roots themselves are attacked. If the microbes can be destroyed early in the disease, the vitality of the hairs may be preserved, but after the follicles are invaded and all their structures injured the baldness is incurable. The following is Dr. Saymonne's remedy to prevent baldness: Ten parts crude cod liver oil, ten parts of the expressed juice of onions, fire parts of mucilage and the yolk of an egg are thoroughly shaken together and the mixture applied to the scalp, and well rubbed in, once a week. This, he as serts, will ceminly bring back the hair if the roots are not already '-destroyed, bnt the application of the reaedy must be very distressing !to tb.8 patittt'i fiisds and A PBUSCE QS ACTOBSl Edwin Bootk's UBipe fteUisa the ArseraaH Stags. WHIT HE-HAS MM F31 118 AIT, Toungr Edwin's Tint Appearaaee The Foetllfkte. Jeii- fUS FATHER'S fJECULIAK CSmOMEi The actor is born, not made. He Bwy fc wuuc, UWilW, UUtBUil Bit oWKir, xMtwmi BootH combines the Genius of Baton, w4l - AvTIriA m mhwSaa Lm k111 . ... TJV the power of an educated, sitMIe teapedftMU vf -.. HUbuviCUlUB BBJt kCKS WJS6 ABM, florists style the breaking of a seedrwteiif j 10,000 dingy flowers,-then one with divine streak. It Is a surprise. There k- nothing to account for it Nature k ki nf wllltor. talla,? nft ..l.'.u U11li the world's a stage, and all the es astelj women merely players." Wbat a wetMf this would be if all the actors were tea like Edwin Booth I Oar standard woaH 1 raised, that is all the theater would JUt and Shakespeare's Hamlet become place. Because there is but oaeBeetfc iJ all the great world of actors, hero w falls in its rizht dace. Just 40 years ago Edwin Booth sa4e Vvf nntmtr 111 Rrfin n? Vjfonn wan f mUu.JJ ance as dresser. One of the actors' irinhisM-r to avoid his dufy ior the evening,, paraaaifolj x.uwin to taste nis part, all wltMtKi eider Booth's knowledge, who beeasae awi of the change in the nroeramme oalv a i minutes before the curtain rose. ,"JPel?I nM.u.OHlU. .& X4UWU. 1T&S rVT Sl lace nis part, nis eccentric lamer, vte 1.: :! t. 1 s.t. i" - a uioi criucauy, oai mill apparw ib ence, asked him if he knew that he was posed to have been riding far asd 1 Tes. sir." "Where are voar h But the young actor had JteiJ thought of these- "Take mine." Tfcl boy took the boot spurs and went oa. fer H little scene with Henry TL He retaxMd i find his father sitting smokisg as a-sgl gently aswnen ne xeit nun, aad.au ike re--, mars: onered was, "Oive me xaj" spv"i This was all the comment that SdwiaJ' Booth's first professional appearance bro agist ' from his father, then the greatest tragedian ; of the world, bnt to his delight afterw" jearnecunat nis peculiar parent ad w&iefeod T.& hi tl-t ..r. with ! !-.- - V"J bnt had hurried back to hi pose Is ' J dressing room before yaasg Bdwifi'-w- turn. THE KLDE2 BOOTS'S PBCULIAEXmsS. " - A more singular being thaa the &sfcer oft Edwin J3ooth biographers do set reooaat. . He was tbe victim at times of straage sal-', ancholyor humorous fancies. Ose am aote is toia ot mm wnen net had taxes a IM1UV M UD Ui BUW1UW VBgCftttriaUi, iUttt M-f-l steam Doat travel at taoie was placed oppe-, .' site a benevolent Quaker who insisted apesj j neipmg nun irom time to time, first Ml chicken, ham. etc. "Then thee ant take i piece of the mutton," persisted the ged" efclj) tjuaker. .t-! 3 T . L a 1L t X 1 4Ta.I a-nA T nmfa. tkat - TV1. auuf . f voice that had electrified aadieneos. aV annihilated the Qoaker, aad another m ml; i 1UQBU jus seat t ueunr wc. t To-day Bdwi. Booth is the ldiaac in America, If Mtldflwcwotdd, aad wh, England, with all hertBMMfial isaStl "eertalft oeml osoobstosi Jsit .sin haa IaiUH wrfe elMtiiUiiMi of America's actor we can ask no m place. Edwin Booth's life, associated ht'H vears with his father in all his waadertBOts.; strange and sad adventures, left a- gleea enf t; nis naturally meiancnoiy ttmperam eat, bt- lt has made mm tne greatest Aamiet of my century. This greatest of ShakeepetkH.'s , plays, though loll ot incident, its ssaia ta- ' terest is centered in thought aad character. in the moods of mind throneh wbiefa; Hamlet passes, Edwin Booth bries ,- fore his audience the reauzaUoa oti Rhs1rjumirA'a haunted nriraivh a. fin 1,7 n i moral nature that sinks beneath a bwdeal which it cannot bear. A bomPriaee, )m. was-to be the delight of Denmark, bat th superstitions of tne times nad mm to betteve his father's spirit walks. A horrid saaider. seizes him. In tbe melancholy darkness of.' Ilia n?n)if Ita Dat 4rS ariivM KAttrttn Jiini ba . follows it to hear: "If thou didst ever thyVs UG umu av dvm uv militia uvuotuu w. iv dear father love, revenge nis foul and raew unnatural murder. Adieu, adieu! resaecs- ' ber me," and the ghost vanishes, but leaves' ; a hero, with an oath upon his seal, to' avense his father's death. In this character ; ot Hamlet Edwin Booth leaves not a single ta line nnstndied. not a point that he has aefr thoroughly settled. In the thousand little? - things, too, that dramatic performances are - madft nn of he observes. In the irravevardi : scene he directs that one of the skaJkf ! thrown np by the Oravt-JHgger shall have a moldy fool's cap. As Hamlet "he syta bolizes that religion to rhicti Momlet oo often refers, by holding his sword, hilt fore-1 most; toward the receding specter as a pro tective cross." SOOTH'S 1L4.GHETIS1I. There is a magnetism, a fasolnation, a nameless delight in Booth's acting. Her electrifies until the eloquence of lesser lights sounds like ceaseless gabble. Booth, is a poet as well as an artist, and the poetic warmth and glamour that he gives to his ideals is the) " secret 01 uu power, as Awwiim no iiYiag actor can stand a comparison with him. la his repertory he is extraordinary ia its range, but more in the average exeelleaea throughout the breadth of this ranee. Edwia Booth in his stage life has acted every kiaeV of character, even to a dandy negro, bat no. other actor in our day nas equaled, mm ia -noetie traeedv. As a man he has bees tried' by every vicissitude and sorrowful experi-r j ence.1. bnt his strong character has- eaabled. : him to bear bravely, and while ha is la -i . . ..... .. r manner eccentric, yet tnose wno Know nimi heat sav he is full of playful humor aad t tenderness of heart, and for the stately use) he has made of nature s gut, for the teapta-, tions he has resisted, we reward hits with, hero worship, while he, with his goodness i ancThis genius, in the old story book of lite,, illustrates the pages with the glories of art. Looking for Iiost hot: Philadelphia Inqolrer.I Eastern Capitalist Yes, I'tb got soawAS money to invest, but where are your lots? Western BoomerJest wait a minnte, straneer. till I eet two diving suits and we'lll go down and look st 'em. Been a party wet I season, yon know. Ia a Tight Place. Long Slle (the stage driver) Ceaw here a minnte, Scars. Scars (the cowboy) Can't Jest baw, 1 ner. This stranger's got t' drsa M.w With W MHBIsK Kv& TSa &Y4C Mfc- (B Nil fc&sV9 film prafi JL 1 sscssssVS ust m 1 -oS Xxmcxmk JfiMiil . 7 Judgit - Whkx BSSsBHKsj.