IS
v THE PITTSBURG .DISPATCH,- SUNDAY. MARCH 8, 1891.
it last? "Would it be true, faithful, tender?
Above all, would it be real, even lor a mo
ment? Sue asked herself a thousand ques
tions iu a second of time.
Then the ready excuse flashed upon her
the pretext which the heart will always find
when it must have its war. Was it not pos
sible, after all, that he was beginning to love
her even now? Jlignt not that outburst of
friendship which had surprised her and
wounded her so deeply be the herald of a
fctronger passion? She looked up quickly
end met bis vacant stare.
"Do you love me?" she asked, almost be
fore she knew what she was going to say.
"iso." The answer came in the far-off
voice that told ot his unconsciousness, a
mere toneiess monosyllable breathed upon
the murky air. Hut it stabbed her like the
thrust of a jagged kuiie. Along silence
followed, and Unorna leaned against the
great slab of carved tandstone.
Even to her there was something awful in
his powerless, motionless presence. The
noble face, pale and set, as under a mask,
the thoughttul brow, the dominating fea
tures were not those of a man born to be a
plaything to the will of a uomati. The
commanding figure towered in the grim
surroundings like a dark statue, erect, un
moving, and in no way weak. And yet
the knew that she had but to speak and the
figure would move, the lips would form
words, the voice would lc.ich her ear. He
would raise this hand or that, step forward
or backward, at her command, affirm what
sue bid him affirm, and deny whatever she
chose to hear denied. For a moment she
wished that he had been as Keyork Arabian,
stronger than she; then, with Ihe half-conscious
comparison, the passion for the man
himself sursred up and drowned every other
tbougnt. She almost forgot that lor the
time he was not to be counted among the
living. She went to him, and clasped her
hands upon his shoulder, and looked up
into his scarce-seeing eves.
"You must love me," she said; "you must
love me, because I love you so. "Will you
not love me, dear? I have waited so long
for you."
The soft words vibrated in his sleeping
ear, but drew forth neither acknowledgment
tior response. Like a marble statue he
stood still, and she leaned upon ins shoul
der. "Do you not hear me?" she cried in a
more passionate tone. "Do you not under
stand me? by is it that your love is so
-hard to win? Look at me! flight not any
man be proud to love mi? Am I not bcau
titul enough for you? And jet 1 know that
I am fair. Or are you ashamed because
people call me a wiicii? "Why, then. I will
uevcr be one airain, for your sake! What do
I care for it all? Cm it be anything to me
can anythin; have worth that stands be
tween me and you? Ah, love be not so
Tery hard!"
The "Wanderer did not move. His face
was as calm as a sculptured stone.
'Lo you despise me for loving you?" she
.cd again with a sudden flush.
'So. 1 do not despise you." Something
. her tone had pierced through his stupor,
.ud had found an answer. She started at
the sound of his voice. It was as though he
had been awake and had known the weight
of what she had been saying, and her anger
rose at the cold reply.
Jvo vou do not despise me, and you
never shall! she exclaimed, passionately.
'You siall love me, as I love vou I will
it, with all my live. We are created to be
all. one to theotber, and you shall not break
through the destiny of love. Love me, as
I love you love me with all your heart,
love me with all your mind, love me with
all your soul, love rue as man never loved
woman since the world began! I will it, I
command it it shall he as I sav you dare
iiotsiisobcy me you cannot if you would."
She paused, but this time no answer came.
There was not even a contraction of the
sronv features.
"Do you hear all 1 say?" she asked.
'i bear."
""Then understand and answer me," she
laid.
"! do not understand. I cannotanswer."
"Vou must. You shall. I will have it so.
You cannot resist my will, and I will it with
ail my might. You have no will you are
mine. your body, your soul ami jour
thoughts, and you must love me with them
all until you die until you die," she re
peated fiercely.
Again he was silent. She felt that she
iiad no hold upon his heart or mind, seeing
that he was not even disturbed by her re
peated efforts.
"Are you a stone, that you do not know
what love u?" she cried, crasping his hand
in hers, and looking with desperate eyes
into his face.
"I do not know what love is." he an
swered slowly.
"Then I will tell ou what love is," she
said, and she took his hand and pressed it
anon her ow n brow.
The Wanderer started at the touch, as
though he would have drawn back, lint
she held him last, and so far, at least, he
ras utterly subject to her. His brow con
tracted darkly, and his face grew paler.
"Head it there," she cried, "Ruter into
snv soul and read what love is, in his own
7rn.
great writing. I;.iU how In- steals sud
denly into the vacrcd place and makes it
Ilis, and Sears dov n the old gods and sets up
bistlear intake in their s'ead read how he
sighs, and speaks, and weeps, and loves
arwJ tnrgives not, but wiil be revenged at
the last? Are vou indeed f stone, and have
voc a stone for a bean? Love can melt
even ttnces, being set in man as
tbe great central fire in the earth
to burn the hirdi-st things to streams
of liquid tlamr! And see, ai-ain, how
very soft and gentle he can be! See how I
love vou ee how sweet it is how very
lovely a tiling it is to love as woman can.
There hare you felt it nnn? Have you
een into tbe depths of my soul and into the
hiding places of myheait? Let it he so iu
youronn, then, and let it be so forever.
You understand now. You knotv what it
all is how wild, how passionate, how gen
tle and how ureal! Take to vourself this
lore of mine is it not all yours? Take it,
and plant it with strong roots and seeds of
uadying life in your own sleeping breast,
and let it grow, and grow, till it is even
greater than it was in me, till it takes us
both into itself, together, fast bound in its
immortal bonds, to be two in one, in life and
bejondlKc, for ever and ever and ever to
tbe end of ends!"
She eeaseil, and she Eaw that his face was
no longer expressionless and cold. A strange
light was upon his features, the passing
radiance of a supreme happiness seen in tne
nsiou of a drc3m. Again she laid her
liands upon his shoulder clasped together, as
she had done at first. She knew that her
words had touched him. and she was confi
dent of the result, confident as one who loves
bctond reason. Already iu imagination she
fancied him leturning to consciousness, not
mowing that he had slept, but waking with
a gentle word just tremuling upon his lips,
the word she longed to hear.
One moment more, bhe thought. It was
eoou to s"p that light upou his face, to fancy
how that first word would sound, to feel that
:uc struggle was past and that there was
nmlila; but happiness in the future, full,
ovi-.-tlwini, overwhelming, reaching from
-.uth tn heaven .md through time toeiernity.
'tie moment, only, before she let him wake
it w?s such glory to be loved at last! Still,
the light was there, still that exqiiite smile
was on his lips. And they would be always
there now, she thought.
At last she spoke.
"Then, love, since vou arc mine, and I sm
' :-$lMMvT ' I'll Pi Til
1-Wb ywl lei V
U- J'-ut Itt ITanrl ? '
yours, wake from the dream to life itself
wake, not knowing that you "have slept,
knowing only that you love me uott and
always wake, love, wake!"
She waved her delicate hand before his
eyes and still resting the other upon his
shoulder, watching the returning brightness
in the dark pupils that had becu glazed and
fixed a moment before. And as she looked
her own beauty grew radiant in the splen
dor of a joy even greater than she had
dreamed of. As it had seemed to him when
he had lost himself in her gaze, so now she
also fancied that the grim, gray wilderness
was full of a soft, rosy light. The place of
the dead wis become the palace of life; the
great solitude was peopled as the whole world
could never be for her: the crumbling grave
stones were turned to polished pillars in the
temple of an immorUl love and "the ehostly,
leafless trees blossomed with the undying
flowers of the earthly paradise.
One moment only, and then all was cone.
The change came, sure, swift and cruel. As
she looked, it came gradual, in that it
passed through every degree, but sudden
also, as the fall of a fair and mighty build
ing, which, being undermined in its founda
tion, passes in one short minute through the
change from perfect completeness to hopeless
and utter ruin.
AH the radiance, all the light, all the
glory were gone in an instant. Her own
supremely loving look had not vanished,
her lips still parted sweetlv, an if forming
the word that was to answer his, and the
calm, indifferent face of the waking man was
already before her.
"What is il?" he asked in his kind and
passiouless voice. "What nere you going
to ask me, Unorna?"
It was gone. The terribly earnest appeal
had been is vain. Xot a trace of that short
Jl'ltr Ti'-o Tall Sloiirs Stood a Man.
vision of love remained impressed upon his
brain.
With a smothered cry of agony Unorna
leaned against the great -slab of marble be
hii d her and covered her eyes. The dark
no s of night descended upon her and with
it the fire of a burning shame.
Then a loud and cruel laugh rang through
the chilly air, such a laugh as the devil-, in
hell bestow upou the shame of a proud soul
that knows iis own infinite bitterness.
Unirna started and uncovered her eyes;
her suffering changed in a single instant to
ungovernable and destroying anger. She
made a step forward and then stopped short,
breathing hard. The Wanderer, too, had
turned, more quickly than she. Between
two tall gravestones, not a dozen paces away,
stood a mau with haggard face and eyes on
fire, his keen, worn features contorted by a
smile in which unspeakable satisfaction
struggled for expression with a profound
despair.
The man was Israel Kafka.
The Wanderer looked from Unorna to '
Kafka with profound surprise. He had
never seen the man, and had im means of
knowing nho he was; still less of guessing
what had brought him to the lonely place,
or why he had broken into a laugh, of
which the harsh, wild tones still echoed
through the wide cemetery. Totally uncon
scious of all that had happened to himsel
during the preceding quarter of an hour, the
Wanderer was deprived of the key to the
situation. He only understood that the
stranger was for some reason or other dreply
iacenssd against Unorna, and he realized
that the intruder had, on the moment of his
appearMice, no control over himself.
Israel Kafka remained where he stood, be
tween the two tall stones, one hand resting
on each, his body inclined a little forward,
bis dark, sunken eves, bloodshot and full of
a turbid, angry brightness, bent intently
upon Unorna's face. He looked as though
he were about to move suddenly forward,
but it was impossible to foresee that he
might not as suddenly retreat, as a lean and
hungry tiger crouches for a moment in un
certainty whether to fight or fly. when, after
tracking his man, he finds him not alone
-and defenseless as he anticipated, but well
armed and in company.
The Wanderer's insolence was onlv men
tal, and was moreover transitory and artifi
cial. When he saw Unorna advance he
quicklv placed himself between her and
Israel Kafka, and looked from one to the
other.
"Who is this man?" he asked. "And
what does he want of yon?"
Unorna made as though she would pass
him. Hut he laid his hand upon her arm
with a gesture that betrayed his anxiety for
her safety. At his touch, her face changed
for a moment and a fa Alt blush dyed her
cheek.
"You may well ask who I am," said the
Moravian, speaking in a voice hall-choked
with passion and aimer. "She will tell you
she does not know me she wilt deny my
existence to my face, lint she knows me
very well. I am Israel Kafka."
The AVanderer looked at him more curi
ously. He remembered what he had heard
but a few hours earlier Irom Keyork con
cerning the young fellow's madness. The
situation now partially explained itself.
"I understand," he said, looking at
Unorna. "He seems to be dangerous.
What shall I do with him?"
He asked the question as calmly as though
it had referred to the disposal of an inani
mate object, instead ol to the taking into
custody of a madman.
"Do with me?" cried Kafka, advancing
suddenly a step forward from between the
slabs. "Do with me? Do you speak of me
as though I were a dog a dumb animal
but 1 will "
He choked and coughed, and could not
finish the sentence. There w.is a hectic
flush iu his cheek, and his thin, graceful
frame shook riolentlv from head to foot.
Unable to speak f.ir the moment, be waved
his hand in a inenaring frcsture. The Wan
derer shook his head rather s'idly.
"He seems very ill," he said, in a tone of
compassion.
lSut Unorna was pitiless. She kuew what
her companion could not know, namely,
that Kafka must have followed them
through the streets to the cemetery and
must have overheard Unorna's passionate
appeal and must have seen and understood
the means she was using to win the Wan
derer's love. Her anger was terrible.
She had suffered enouzh secret
shame already in stooping to the use
ot her arts in such a course. It had cost her
one of the greatest struggles of her life, and
her disappointment at the result had been
proportionately bitter. In that alone she
had endured almost as much pain as she
could bear. But to find suddenly that her
humiliation, her hot speech, her failure, the
look which bhe knew had been on her face
until the moment when the Wanderer
awoke, that all this had been seen and heard
by Israel Kafka was intolerable. Even
Kevork's unexpected appearance could not
have so fired her wrath. Keyork might
have laughed at her afterward, but her
failure would have been no triumph to
him. Was not Keyork unlisted on her side,
ready to help her at all times, by word or
deed, iu accordance with the terms of their
agreement? llut of all men Kafka, whom
she had so wronged, was the one man who
should have been ignorant of her defeat and
miserable shame.
Gol" she cried, with a gesture of com
mand. Her eyes flashed and her extended
hand trembled.
There was such concentrated fury in the
single word that the Wanderer started in
surprise, ignorant as he was of the true state
of things.
"You are uselessly unkind," he said
gravely. "The poor mau is mad. Let me
take him away."
"Leave him to me," she answered imperi
ously. "He will obey me."
But Israel Kafka did not turn. He rest
ed one hand upon the slab, and faced her.
As when many different forces act together
at one point, producing after the first shock
a resultant little expected, so the many pas
sions that were at work in his face finally
twisted his lips into a smile.
"Yes," he said, in a low tone, which did
not express submission. "Leave me
to her! Leave nie to the Witch
and to her mercy. It will be the end
this time. She is drunk with her love of
you and mad with her lfatred of me."
Unorna grew suddenly pale, and would
have again sprung forward. But the Wan
derer stopped her and held her arm. At the
same time he looked into Kafka's eyes and
raised one hand as though iu warning.
"Be silent!" he exclaimed.
"And if I speak, what then?" asked the
Moravian with his evil smile.
"I will silence von," answered the "Wan
derer, coldly. "Your madness excuses you,
perhaps, but it does not justify me in allow
intr you to insult a woman."
Kafka's anger took a new direction. Even
madmen are often calmed by the .quiet oppo
sition of a strong and self-possessed man.
And Kafka was not mad. He was no cow
ard, cither, but the subtlctv of his race was
in him. As oil dropped by the board in a
wild tempest does not calm the waves, but
momentarily prevents their angry crests
from breaking, so the Israelite s. quick tact
veiled the rough face ot his dangerous
humor.
"I insult no one," he said, almost deferen
tially. "Least of all her whom I have wor
shiped long and lost at last. You accuse me
unjustly of that, and though my speech may
have been somewhat rude, yet may I be tor
given for the sake ofwlnt I have suffered.
For I have suffered much."
Sceintr that he was taking a more court
eous tone, the Wanderer folded his arms and
left Unorna tree to move, awaiting her com
mands, or tho further deyelopmentofevcnts.
He saw in her face that her anger was not
subsiding, and he wondered less at it after
hearing Kafka's insulting speech. It was a
pity, bethought, that any one should take
so seriously a maniac's words, but he. was
nevertheless resolved that they should not
be icpeateil. After all. it would be an easv
matter, if the man again Overstepped the
bounds of gnutle speech to take him bodily
away from Unorna s jirescncc.
"And are yon going to charm our ears
with the story of your sufferings?" Unorna
asked, in a tone so cruel that the AVanderer
expected a quick outburst of anger from
Kafka, in reply. But he was disappointed
in this. The smile still lingered on the
Moravian's face, when he answered, and his
expressive voice, no longer chokiu'g with
passion, grew very soft and musical.
"It is not mine to charm," he said. "It
is not given to me to make slaves of all liv
ing things with hand and eye and word.
Such power nature does not give to all, she
has given none to me. I have no spell to
win Unorna's love and if I had, I cannot
say that I would take a Jove thus earned."
He paused a moment and Unorna grew
paler. She started, but then did not move
again. His words had. power to wound her.
but she trembled lest the AVanderer should
understand their hidden meaning, and she
was silent, biding her time and curbing her
passion.
"Xo." continued Kafka, "I was not thus
favored iu my nativity. The star of love
was not in the ascendant, the lord of magic
charms was not trembling upon my horizon,
the snn of earthly happiness was not en
throned iu my mid-heaven. How could it
be? She had it all, this Unorna here, and
nature, generous in one mad moment, lav
ished upon her all there was to give. For
she has all, and we have nothing, as I have
learned and you will learn before you die."
He looked at the AVanderer as he spoke.
His hollow eyes seemed calm enoueh and in
his dejected attitude and subdued tone there
was nothing that gave warning of a coming
storm. The Wanderer listened, half inter
ested and yet half annoyed by his persist
ence. Unorna herself was silent still.
I" To be. continued next week .
PARDONED THE WEONO MAN;
A Carious Blander Committed tiy a Michi
gan Governo .
Detroit News. 3
Bob McKinney tell: this story about ex
Governor Begole and himsel . "When he
was in Jackson prison a strong and numer
ously signpd petition fo- his pardon was
presented to Uncle Jo.siah who was then
Governor. One day the Governor called at
the prison and in a long tall; with him gave
him to understand, without saying it in so
many words, that h- would grant him a
pardon. On the same day the Governor had
a talk with Big John Reilly, a tough
character from Detroit, who had been sen
tenced lor a 15 years' term hv the Judge of
the Pontiac circuit but a year or two be
fore. Reilly's record in prison didn't begin to
compare with Bob's and besides he hadn't
any influential friends to help him for even
a commutation, so far as those who. knew
his career were aware of. It was a
great surprise to everbody acquainted
with the cirenmstances when, not.' long
after the Governor's visit, a pardon arrived
at the prison lor Reilly, but none for Bob.
Although Bob was lett to finish bis term, he
bears no ill will to the venerable ex-Governor.
He is satisfied that it was" sim
ply a mistake; that Uncle Josiah really
meant to release him, but, as he and -Keiliy
were of the same general appearance, both
weighing about 230 pounds, the Governor
got them mixed iu his mind from seeing
both the same day and sent a pardon to the
wrong man.
A SUGGESTION TO BIED FANCIEES.
TVhero They Can rind an Kxcellent School
for Stock ins Birds. '
Says a dealer in birds to a New. York
ZViouiie writer: "I am surprised that no
one has ever thought ot capturing several
... - . 1
nunoren j.exas mocEing Birds while joiing, j
and taking them to Germany. There thev
would be intrusted for a year or so' to the
peasants of the Hartz Mountains district,
where the nightingale, the golden thrush,
the linnet, the bullfinch and dozens of other
sweet warblers fly wild. It would-not be
long before the Texas mockers wojiId.be
singing all theirlsoncs sweetly.
"Then bring them" back to the United
States, turn them loose in their .native
woods, and let them teach their felloVs the
songs thev had learned abroad."
HEIR 10 BELGIUM'S THRONE.
The Boy Who Takes the Crown Whoa "Leo
pold Iiy.s It Down.
ew York burning Journal.
Young Prince Albert, the fonrthson of
the Count of Elanders, is, since the death
ot his brother, Prince Baudoin,
I'tlnce Albert.
tbe direct heir to the throne of Belgium.
Tne Prince is only 15, and is just completing
his education. He is a fine manly fellow,
with'frank and engaging manners, and a de
cided taste lor military life. He has two
sisters older than himself, who have had
much to do with directing his education.
Stop at the Hollenden, in Cleveland.
American and European plans. su
tfwjS tV"55& W-
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1
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A FINE OLD FAMILY.
The Original American Rockefellers
Were German Brothers.
HANI 1IKUBEBS WEKE FAMOUS.
A Descendant of the Pennsylvania Branch
Died in Pittsburg '
STORIES OP THE STANDARD OIL KING
rwniTTEx rou the DISPATCH.!
The Standard oil king, John D. Rocke
feller, may feel proud of his nncestry. As
genealogies run in this country the Rocke
fellers arc an old family. The original
Rockefellers were four brothers, who came
from the Rhine provinces about the middle
of the last century and settled in New
Jersey. They formed quite a settlement in
the vicinity of Flaiufield, but toward the
close of the eighteenth century they began
to separate. One branch of sons and grand
sons went to New England. Another went
to New York State, while the third came to
Pennsylvania. John D. Rockefeller and
his brothers come of the New England
branch. Very little is known of the New
York Rockefellers. As for those who re
mained in New Jersey, they grew and multi
plied. One great-grandson of one of the
four brothers is still living at Plainficld, N.
J., at au advanced age.
The leader iu the Pennsylvania migration
was Godfried Rockefeller, who, with his
brothers and sisters, traveled by wagon to
Northumberland county and located in the
vicinity of Shamokin. Coal in abundance
was found m great quantities under the old
Rockefeller homestead, but Godfried died in
1818 in ignorance ol the black buried treas
ures. Kastern Pennsylvania JMembers.
Scores of Rockefellers arc now living in
the eastern part of Pennsylvania whose
lineage can be traced back to the original
brothers of the Rhine provinces. A curious
thing is the mutation which the family
name has undergone; the queer ways of
spelling and the pronunciation. In Phila
delphia alone half a dozon or more families
of Rockefellers live, and the name is spelled
in nearly as many different ways, such as
Rockfellow, Rockafcllow and Rockefellar.
The male descendants ot the original four
brothers iu this country have variously
figured as painters, preachers, lawyers,
miners, liquor dealers, gioccrs, physicians,
saddleis, farmers, steamboat deck hands,
engineers, editors, contractors and capital
ists. AVith but lew exceptions the sturdy
qualities, pluck and energy of the old
Rockefeller forefathers has come down to
later generations.
JJJol'ii D. Rockefeller and his brother are
not the only ones of distinction of the name.
A widely known member of the Pennsyl
vania family is buried at Hollidaysburg
the Rev. John Pattoii Rocke'ellcr. He was
a Baptist minister, and was better known as
"the boy preacher" CO years ago. He was
also a descendant, on his mother's side, of
the celebrated Locwood family, which
traces its history in this country back to
lbo.
A Wonderful Young Preacher.
Rev. John P. Rockefeller entered the
ministry when he was a little more than 20
years old. He earned the money at the
saddlers' bench which enabled him to obtain
an education. He toiled at his trade by dav.
and under the direction of a loving mother
studied by candle light at night. His first
circuit was through AVestmoreland county,
Pennsylvania. His meetings at the Penus
Tille Baptist Church attracted the attention
of an lufidel, who boasted that he intended
to floor that beardless preacher, for the youth
and eloquence of the young minister had
heen heralded all through the mountains of
that region.
At the close of one of the evening services
the skeptic arose and, in a defiant manner,
propounded several, in those days, knotty
questions on the subject of baptism. The
congregation was in a flutter of excitement,
for these good people felt their leader was
being tried in the balance and they trembled
The Boy Preacher.
for the consequences. The old deacon, fear
ing the result for the youthful theologian,
rose and proposed to answer the unbeliever
liitncolf Tint T-nnnr, "Pnnt-iifpllnr wnillrl
.... .. -..U..,. ...V...........V. ..vu.u
l,aTe none of it. He arose in the pulpit,
and, to the deligl
ht of the congregation, in a
few well chosen, clearly, cut sentence, each
word weighing a ton, effpetually silenced
the scoffer. Rev. J. 1". Rockefeller died
while in charge of the church at Hollidays
burg. Dlstlncjnlshed in the T.aw.
Another distinguished descendant of ihe
four brothers is Hon. William M. Rocke
feller, Presidcut Judge of the. Eighth judi
cial district of Pennsylvania. He is one of
the ablest jurists in the State, and a typical
Rockefeller in appearance. He is a great
grandson of Gotfried Rockefeller. Henry
D. Rockefeller, one of the seven sous of the
Northumberland patriarch, died in Pitts
burg 2G years ago. He had been a soldier
in the "War of 1812, and died full of years
and honors at the age of 06.
Among the Pennsylvania descendants ot
old Gotfried Rockefeller there still remains
some quaint legends concerning the original
migration. "When the family started from
New Jersey for their new home in Pennsyl
vania 12j years ago a yellow mongrel cur
accompanied them. Prom all accounts he
wasn't pretty, but he was "knowin'." The
journey was made by wagou, and occupied
many weary days, but the faithful dog
trotted patiently along under the front axle
at the heels of the horses. A week had
scarcely passed in their new abode ere the
dog mysteriously disappeared. Days
lengthened into months, for mails were slow
then, but at last a letter came from the old
home saying the dog had come back to the
scenes of its doghood days a complete
canine wreck. He was evidently disgusted
with Northumberland county, and his in
stinct had guided him over mountains aud
across rivers for nearly 300 miles.
A Stray "Member's l'ortune.
A lev years ago Judge Rockefeller re
ceived a letter from a leading attorney of
Arizona, saying a man had died there
by the name of Rockefeller and information
was wanted concerning relatives or friends
of the dead man. He further added that the
deceased, who was familiarly known as
"old Rocky" had died friendless and home
less as he had lived. Very little was known
of him as he was a recluse. This was known,
however: He was a mining prospector and
had amassed quite a fortune and unless
relatives were found the money must revert
to the Territory, as no will could be found.
Judge Rockefeller could obtain no clew as
to who this Rockefeller was. He was some
stray member of the family, doubtless, who
v ;
i hCfhJw
Iff Mfim
'f 1 ffW
had wandered into the AVest when young.
Presumably the thousands of this descendant
of the Rockefeller family have been placed
in the hands of the Government before this.
John D. Rockefeller, who ranks with the
wealthiest men of the world, was born at
Cleveland, O. His father was a physician,
who was born in Connecticut. John D.
Rockefeller's first position after leaving
school was as a clerk in a commission house
at a salary of $2 a week. By pluck and hard
work, combined with business shrewdness,
he was enabled when only 22 years old to
open a modest commission business of his
own.
The Fatnre Oil King.
Oil was the principal article in which he
dealt, A few years later when the oil ex
citement in Pennsylvania was at its height
yonng Rockefeller visited the oil fields, and
seeing at a glance their future value, in
Vested all he could raise in them. He then
started a. refinery in Cleveland, and organ
ized a company wnicn has since grown into
what is now the Standard Oil Company.
From this beginning he has achieved his
power and wealth.
He has for years been an earnest member
of the Baptist Church, and in a quiet way
hat been a generous and useful supporter of
the Euclid Avenue Church in Cleveland.
The Standard Oil Kina.
Even now he is the superintendent of the
Sunday school in Cleveland, though his
residence is iu New York. He is a friend
to education and has alwavs been a bounti
ful giver to its cause. The climax to his
goodness was reached recently, when he
placed fl.000,000 in the Baptist University
at Chicago. A good story is told of the
President of the Standard Oil Company
which shows the even temperament of the
man and the absence of a revenge'nl spirit.
A gentleman who is now of the New York
Sun staff, and who writes charming char
acter stories over his signature, was a few
years ago connected with the Standard Oil
Company as one of the department chief
clerks in the New York office.
A ITealth-r.lIt Epitorte.
The official whom he was under was a per
sonal and a very near friend of the Presi
dent of the company. The large apartment
in which the desk of this luture newspaper
writer was located had in one corner a
"health-lift" machine. Every day at a reg
ular hour a quiet, inodestlv dressed gentle
man would come in, noiselessly exercise
four or five minutes on the "lift" and as
quietly walk out. Day after day this same
quiet man with the brown eyes came and
went without the least display or undue
demonstration. He never spoke or even
noticed the other occupant ot the room.
Finally this became distressingly monoto
nous to the clerk, and one day his patience
becam- exhausted, and as the health-lifter
was leaving the room the clerk exclaimed:
"I wish you'd take that darned machine
out of here; it annoy- me."
A look of surprise, then a nod of asent
was the only reply. Shortly two colored
men came in anil carried the" instrument of
torture awav. A tew days later a mreting
of the board was held at which this sell
same clerk wis to act as secretary. Imagine
his feeling-on entering the boardroom to
see in John D. Rockefeller the gentleman of
the "health-lift" episode. The voung man
fairly quaked for lear of dismissal. But it
never came.
The Oil King's Character.
Iu appearance John D. Rockefeller bears
a striking resemblance to the Rockefellers
in general. All of the name or descent have
what might be called strong fjecs, marked
especially by a prominent, heavy nose. He
is a quiet, retiring man, wholly unassum
ing in his dress and manner." He always
speats iu low, well-modulating tones. His
eyes are dark and quiet in repose, but flash
ing with energy and animation when ex
cited or interested. His home life is noted
lor its simplicity, and he is most devoted to
his family.
For 20 odd years John D. Rockefeller has
been the target tor all sorts of stories tend
ing to make him appear as a cold-blooded
conscienceless wrecker of character and pri
vate fortune. Those who know him best
know them to be without foundation. A
capitalist, with vast business interests for
which he was .responsible to thousands, he
has frequently been forced, in the protection
of these interests, to steps that conflicted
with the schemes of other men more design
ing than the head of the Standard Oil Com
pany. And yet, whether or not John D.
Rockefeller has been wholly free Irom all
business complications of questionable char
acter is a matter wnicn ne alone can an
swer. Kid Daklixg,
THE LATEST TRICYCLE.
Odd Contrltance in Which Jlectriclty Is to
Do the Work.
The illustration shows the latest English
idea iu tricycle. It is an ordinary pneu
matic machine, to which is fitted an elec
trical motor behind the rider. Of course
pedals .ire provided fur an emergency. It
is estimated that the machine, complete
will give a speed of from eight to ten miles
an hour on ordinary roads.
IIAXD-PAIXTJED.
Stylish Suitings,
Overcoat and trouser material, of the
best ouality at Anderson's, 700 Smitbfield
.strecu Cutting and fitting the very best, sn
if MhmjJ
SOME LENTEN MENUS.
Dishes for Morninjj. Soon and Sight
Thai Fill Ketiuirementa
AKD DELIGHT THE EPICURES.
How to Make Sponge Cake and a Short
Talk on Cakes in General.
SOME GOOD RECIPES FOR CUSTARDS
rWBITTEN FOR THE DISPATCH.'
Women who are as enterprising in their
homes as their brothers are in their busi
ness, will not find their menus for Lent
serious hardships. Below are some Lenten
menus chat will be found very satisfactory
and they may suggest others that will suit
just as well:
Breakfast.
Baked apples.
"A'heatcn grits. Sugar and cream.
Staffed eggs. Water cresses. Graham bread.
llominy caKcs.
Cocoa.
Rolls.
Coffee.
Luncheon.
Oyster pie.
Celery.
Olives.
Sardine salad.
Wafers. Cheese.
Tapioca cream. Transparent apples.
Tea. Chocolate.
Dinner.
Lenten soup.
Boiled white fish. Egg sauce, sliced lemons.
Oyster fritters. Spinach.
Battered parsnips.
Frost pudding. Orango jelly.
Cake. Coffee.
I add directions for the various dishes:
STUFFED EGOS.
Boil a half dozen eggs for ten minntes.
Plunge into cold water and remove tho
shells.
Divide lengthwise, remove the yelks and
chop fine, with a few sprigs of parsley.
Add two tablespooufuls of butter, a slico ot
bread soaked in milk and squeezed out, season
ing of salt, pepper and a grate of nutmeg.
Mix well, and All the cavities in the whites.
Place in tho oven for ten minutes.
WATER CRESSES.
With spring time come the water cresses
wholesome, appetizing, fresh, crisp and
green. At breakfast they arc eaten simply
with salt.
With them may be served eggs cooked in
any style; but with soft-boiled eggs (eggs
put into boiling water and placed on a part
of the range where they will not boil for
seven minutes), graham bread, fresh butter
and good collee we have an ideal Lenten
breakfast.
HOMINY CAKES.
Soak for several hours two teacupfuls of
small hominy.
Boll until soft enough to mash.
Add an equal quantity of cornmeal, a table
spoonful of melted butter and a teaspoonful of
salt.
Stir in three beaten eees and milk enough to
make a batter tnin enough to pour.
Beat until very light aud bake as waffles or
griddle cakes.
oystei: tie.
Line a deep baking dish with good pie crnst.
Fill tbe dish with pieces of stale bread, rover
with paste and bake 15 or 20 minutes in a quick
oveu.
Take off tho crust, remove the bread, and fill
with oysters prepared as for patties.
Replace the crust and serve at once.
SARDINE SALAD.
Take a large box of line sardines.
Drain off the nil and remove oones and skin.
Boil a half dozen eggs until hard.
Mince tir.e and mix with the sardines.
Season, and serve with French or mayonnalso
dressing. ,
TAPIOCA CREAM.
Wash a cupful ol pearl tapioca through sev
eral waters.
Cover with milk and soak over night.
In the morning add a half cupful or sugar
and the beaten yelks ot three eggs.
Stir this mixturo into a quart of boiling milk
and cook until thick and clear.
Remove from the lire, flavor to taste and stir
in tbe frothed whites.
Serve cold with transparent apples.
TRANSPARENT APPLES.
Take tarr. ripe, juicy apples. Add
enonzh water to cook them tender.
Strain through a napkin and to a pint of juice
take a ponna of sugar.
Boll until it jellies.
LENTEN SOUP.
Put six onnces of vermicelli Into a stew pan
and cover w ell w ith cold water.
Place on the range, and nhen it comes to the
boil turn into a coUndor to drain.
Cover again with cold water and let stand for
five minutes.
Pour off the water, add two quarts ot milk
and cook until tender.
Heat a pint of cream until about to boil and
stir in gradually tho beaten yelks of four cigs.
Strain through a sieve into tbe other mixture,
season, and stir well for a few minutes.
SPINACH.
Separate the leaves from tho stalks, and use
water unstintingly until the leaves are entirely
tree from sand and earth.
Put them dripping with water into a stew
pan, sprinkle witusalt and press them to the
bottom of the pan. using a wooden spoon.
i nrn me leaves, press again ana so rontinne
the tnrning and pressing for 15 or 20 minutes.
Drain, chop and season with salt, pepper,
butter and cream.
Garnish with minced egg.
OYSTER FRITTER1).
Pat a pint of oysters into a colande-.
Dash with cold water, drain and chop in
pieces.
Make a batter of a pint of milk, floor and a
teaspoon fill nf baking powder. Season lightly
with salt and pepper; stir in tho oysters and
try light brown.
BUTTERED PARSNIPS.
Wash and scrape tho parsnips and let lie in
cohl water forUO minutes.
Put into a stewpan. cover with boiling water
and cook until tenner.
Slice lengthwise into pieces about a fourth
of an inch thick.
Put into a pan with three tablespoonfnls of
butter and a little minced parsley.
Sc ison and simmer gently for a few minutes.
Serve with tho sauce about them.
FROST PUDDINO.
Cover a box or gelatine with a pint of cold
water.
Let stand for one hour.
Dissolve with a pint of boiling water. Add
the juico of two lemons and the grated rind of
one.
Stir in 2 cupf ills of sugar and set aside to
cool.
When it begins to stiffen turn in the frothed
whites and beat thoroughly for some minntes.
When quite cold and firm serve with orange
jelly and cream.
ORANGE JEIXY.
Cover a package of gelatine with two rupfnls
of water.
Stir in twocupfulsof sugar, the jutee of six
oranges, the grated peel of one, the juice of
two lemons and peel of one.
Let stand for an hour.
Add three pints of boiling water and stir
until the gelatine is dissolved.
Strain tbrooch flannel into a wet mold.
A RELIABLE SPONGE CAKE.
There has been a request for a good re
liable sponge cake one that does not call
for many eggsand does not take up too much
time in mixing. A very excellent sponge
cake, fine-grained, tender, delicate and in
expensive, is made alter the following
recipe:
Sift together, three times, two scant cupfuls
ol flour and two level teaspoonfuls of baking
powder.
Beat together until very light four eggs and
two level cupfuls of powdered sugar.
Stir the flonr in gradually, add a teaspoonful
of lemon extract and four tablespoonfuls at
boiling water.
Observe that the boiling water is added last.
Lino a deep square tin or pan with greased
papor, pour iu the batter and cover with a tin
of the same size.
Bake in a quick oven, and test with a straw.
The batter for this cake may seem rather
thin, but this is just as it should be. The
success of the sponge cake depends, in a
great measure, upou the consistency of the
batter.
The time required for mixing is but a few
minutes, it the ingredients are at hand. It
is almost impossible to make a good cake
unless il is put together quickly; hence the
necessity of having everything ready when
about to mix it. In cake-baking the most
reliable recipes often result in failure,
simply became some apparently trifling
direction has been overlooked, or because
the process has been delayed. It should be
remembered, too, that very little beating
must be done after the flonr has been added
to the cake mixture.
Following are some general recipes that I
have found thoroughly reliable:
OKANOE FOOL.
To three well beaten eggs add a pint of cream'
the juice of three lemons, a little nutmeg, a,
pinch of cinnamon and sugar to taste.
Put in a doulilo boiler, over a slow lire and
stir until tniclc, being careful not to let it
boil.
Mold andset to cool.
rjtiED r.aas is batter.
Poach the eggs (not bard); set them aside to
drain and cool on a clean napkin.
Dip the egss in batter with a spoon, strew
lightly with minced parsley and fry nntil light
brown in plenty of hot fat.
ORAKQn FRITTERS.
Peel tho oranses. remove the white skin, and
cat in slices, rejecting the seeds.
Dip in batter, fry pale brown in hot fat and
drain on white paper.
Sift with sugar.
ASPARAGUS OMELET.
Steam nntil tender a bunch or two oC aspara
gus, cut the top3 and tbe tender part ioto small
piece".
Season with salt, pepper and batter and set
in tbe steamer until the omelet is prepared.
Take eight fresh eggs, beat yelks and whites
separately, adding a tablespoonfnl of milk for
each egg, and to be beaten with the yelks.
ilalt two tablespoonfnls of bniter in a hot
omelet pan, stir the whites and yelks of the egzs
gently together, poor into the pan and shaue,
omelet fashion, foi live minuets,
rfeason with salt, dash with pepper, add tho
asparagus, fold and servo at onco on a well
narmed platter.
BREAD MEJtINGCE.
Stir into a quart of milk a pint of bread
crumbs.
Add a cunfnl of sugar, the beaten yelks of
four eggs, the grated rind of a lemon, and a
pipce of butter size of an egg.
Bake until stiff, take from the oven, and pour
the beaten whites, with a small cupful of sugar
and the juice ot a lemon added.
Brown lightly in an open oven.
BREAKFAST CAKES.
Beat four eggs nntil light.
Add a quart of milk, a little salt and thicken
with four cupfuls of flour.
Bake in gem pans in a quick oven.
VEAL AND MACARONI.
Mince cold veal and a little cold-boiled ham
together.
Add keasoning. a little crated lemon and a.
few tablespoonluls of good stock.
Simmer for a few minute", spread on but
tered toast surrounded by hot, well seasoned
macaroni.
VEAL FRITTERS.
Cut cold-boiled veal into thin slices, season
lightly, dip into batter, and fry brown.
Drain on napkin and servo with tomato
sauce.
COFFEE CUSTARD.
Take a pint of strong, fresh coffee, add to it
the same quantity of rich cream.
Put into a :tcw pan and let boil up once.
Beat up eight eggs with a tea cup and a half
of white sujar.
Turn the coffee and cream boiling hot into
this, stirring constantly.
Put into a doulilo boiler and stir until it
thickens.
Pour into custard glasses and set to cool.
FRENCH CUSTARD.
Sweeten a quart of new milk to taste with
loaf sugar.
Flavor with peach or vanilla and put into a
doable boiler.
When It comes to the boil drop in by spoon
fills the beaten whites ot eight eggs.
Remove when they begin to harden a little
dip them out carelully and arrange on a
Beat up the yelks, add to the boiling milk and
stir until it thickens.
Ponr over the whites anil tuft with colored
JO'1- ELL1CE SEr.ENA.
FAMOUS FOR T0P-SPIHHIHG.
King Kalkasa Whoso Tricks Have Set En
gland to Talking.
Pall Mall Uudget.J
King Kalkasa is just now the talk of
England in his particular line. His Majestv,
the King, appears clad in Japanese garb,
and assisted by a real Japanese attendant.
Ivalkasa's tops ara not anything like the
peg-top we kuew in the days of our child
hood, they are more like humming tops, and
don't hum. He spins them on wires, on the
edge of a sword, on the butt end of a horse
wmp, which in tnni he spins on the edge of
a plate held in the mouth. He spins one
top on top of another top, and sends the
two spinning down a wire into the
.
til
mw
Tlie King of Top Spinners.
midst of the audience. He spins a top up a
piece of twine into a big tea chest; going in
at a little door it touches a spring" which
sets a chime of bells a-going, travels all the
way round the chest and down the twine
again, closing the door behind it, into its
master's band. He makes a top of a tub,
which he spins aloft on a conple of bamboos
balanced one on top of the other, and bal
anced on his chin. Altogether he is quite
wonderful.
KNOWH THE0UGH0.UT THE WORLD.
Tho 3Iau Who Was Thought to Ee the
Whltechapel Murderer.
Most men become world-famous onlv after
years of patient toil iu statesmanship, "litera
ture, ait or some other particular branch;
but here is a man who is now known through
out the civilized world, and he hasn't done
Fireman Sadler.
anything wonderful either. The man is the
fireman, Sadler, who was arrested for the
murder of "Carrotty" Nell in Whitechapel.
It has been proved that he is not the White
chapel murderer, but be has become famous
nevertheless.
Appreciato Their Privileges.
Mew York bun.
The Russian Hebrew workingmen in this
city, who now number about 40,000, are very
fond of going to public meetings, be
cause they have cotne from a country
wheie they were not allowed to hold meet
ings. Within the past few weeks they
have assembled iu force three or four times
in the large hall of Cooper Institute, and
they have crowded it every time.
The Koch Lymph
Will not be needed if you use Kemp's Balsam
the best cough care. Sample free; all druggists
l-vi)"r. Wkfr .?
NIT.K
.u.l 1. 1 vrJ7
Just VI t, IP J
tSH
'P - 6b&,
DOWN OF THE EIDER..
Nothing So Soft and Delicate in All
the Kealm of Nature.
HOW THE DDCKS MAKE THE NESTS.
Systematic Kobbary at the Hands of tho
Kativcs of the Kortb..
TBACBIXG rODXG TO SWIH AXD DIYB
WRITTEN FOB TUB OISPATCn.S
Xo newly-born heir to a throne ever
rested upon a softer couch than that which
the mother provides for certain little duck
lings that are born away up in the cold re
gion near the Arctic circle. Many a futura
king has first tested his voice while lying
on such stuff as the ducklings rest upou
when they first step out of their shells; but
the bed of the scion of royalty cost its
weight in gold. There is nothing else of
nature's work, and no product of man's
handicraft so solt, so delicate and so elastic
as the down that grows upon the breast of
the eider duck. It is said that one handful,
grasped from a quantitv of this down, will
make a well-stuffed baby quilt five feet
square, although the weight of the down is
less than half an ounce.
In building their nests thceider ducks use
lots of seagrass, twigs and whatever else is
available for the walls. This they plaster
on tbe inside with clay so as to make ths
nest airtight. A layer of the finest crasses,
feathers and other soft materiafs then covers
the clay, and, last of all, the female plucks
from her own breast the delicate down with
which to finish the home for her ducklings.
This down is so valuable that the natives of
Labrador, Spitzbergcn and other far north
ern countries derive a considerable part of
their income bv stealiug the down from ths
nests of the eider duck.
Robbing ihe Pretty Xests.
They watch the hoi e building of the
ducks and note the lai nij if the eggs from
day to day. When abou. the complement
of eggs has been deposited these rascally
pirates pounce down and steal botb eggs
and down. Then the ducks proceed to re
pair damages. The female is now obliged
to denude her breast in order to get down
enough to line the nest. Then when more
eggs are laid, the pirates make their cruel
visit again. The patient ducks try it once
more, but this time the drake has to supply
the down. When the pirates have for the
third time committed their robbery, the
poor ducks abandon the place and disap
pear. Whether they at last comprehend
the tronble, or whether the vanitv of
the drake leads him. to "draw
the line" at the loss of half
his down, is something we have yet to
learn. It must be said for the eider drake,
however, that he is a good and faithtul hus
band, as nearly all drakes are in their wild
state. Instances are cited by naturalists
wherein the same pair of dnck3 for 20 years
raised their broods in the same place. The
nesting habits of nearly all the other ducks
of onr country are similar to those of the
eiders. The ducklings are born in the
spring, in cold regions, and wheu the time
comes to mierate southward, the young ones
are as good flyers as the parents. The young
ducks are taught to eat -as soon as
they leave the shell, and a little later the
mother teaches them to swim and dive.
This is the way she gives the first swimming
lesson: She orders the little ones to get on
her back, as you may have seen young
chicken: getou the back of the old hen.
Then she waddles into the water, swims out
a little way and suddenly dives, leaving the
ducklings to "paddle their own canoe." But
the mother doesn't go lar away. She comes
to the surface quickly and anxiously watches
the result of the first swimming lesson. As
ducks are natural swimmers the little
quackers at once become as fond of the water
as a child is ot candy.
Teachlne the Ducklings to Dive.
The diving lesson comes next. The '
mother will dive and try to induce the
youngsters to follow her. If they won't do
it she gets behind them and "tilts them up,"
so that their heads go under; then, like the
average boy, they are jnst crazy to dire
when they find how easy it is. AH ducks
are good divers, but when in flocks in the
water, they always prefer to escape danger
by flying. But stray ducks that have been
detached from flocks will generally dive in
preference to flying in order to escape the
gunners. Some of the ducks found iu our
rivers and lakes are such expert divers
hat they avoid the shots' of the
best marksmen. It is thought that
they understand what the flash
of 'a gun means, and they are so quick
that they get under the surface of the water
before tbe lead reaches them. Tbe only way a,
gunner oan get a chance at these divers is to
fire one shot to make the duck dive and then
bo ready with aaothar the instant that the
game shows above the surface.
The canvas back and the mallard are tha best '
known among the edible ducks of our country
and the mallard is recognized as the progenitor
ot oar familiar domestic dock. The latter,
however, is a rather Ignoble descendant of
noble ancestors. While the wild duck lives
largely on roots and grains there is nothing too
filthy for the domestic descendant. Refuse
that a pig would disdain to touch will be gob
bled by a tame duck as if It were the most dell,
cato morsel. In their family relations they are)
extremely remiss. Tho drake is a faithless
husband, puffed up with sell-conceit and utter-J
Iy indifferent to bis sponse in nesting time and
to the ducklings when they appear. And thd
wife is not much better than the husband. Sua
will sometimes leave the nest when hatching,
go off on an excursion, and let the eggs spoil,
liven if she successfully hatches the eges she
doesn't seem to care anything for the brood
The Influence of the Moon.
A great many people, particularly farmer
and villagers, believe that everything; from a
wedding to a husking, shonld be timed accord'
ing to certain phases ot the moon. The "mail
in the moon" must be consulted when it comes
to planting potatoes, setting fence posts, or
bnildlng a chicken coop. The family Bible wilt
last for generations in some farming localities,
bat when tne 31st of December comes tbe year's
almanac always looks as if it had accidentally
been ran through the threshing machine.
Still, there is not nearly so much belief now in
the moon's potency in human affairs as thert)
was in tbe days of our grandfathers. A hnnf
drcd years ago the majority of people in Engl
land. Germany, and in oar own country con
V. suited the moon not only in matters pertaining
iU lAilUlU. UUl AI3U 111 inCbh bU UU31Uf3S en
terprises, taking medicines to prevent disease,
and so on.
Well, is there any substantial ground for tha
belief that the moon is really a factor in tho
concerns of tbe human race 7 To start with,
we know that the moon's attraction causes tbe
tides, and that these tides are sometimes very
destructive to property. It is admitted by
scientists, also, that the earth's atmosphere is
to some extent affected by tbe attractive force
of the moon and also of the sun. We know,
too, that decomposition of animal matter goes
on more rapidly in moonlight than in the dark,
and there are authenticated cases of oerebrat :
injury to persons as a conseqnence of sleeping;
in tho moonlizht. Oar word laaacy, ormooa
craze, came from the belief that the moon ex'
erts an influence on the human mind.
Science Doesn't Enlighten Us.
But science gives, us very little help in thv
effort to solve tbe problem. Some scientist ,
have tried to demonstrate that tbe moon exerts .
a marked influence upon the metorology of the '
'earth, and there is probably ground for belie!
that this is measurably true. But the fact as
compared with the fiction, in regard to lunar
influence on mankind is about the proportion
of a bushel of chaff to one grain of wheat. It
is not strange that these traditions shonld still
find many believers, for they date back to the
beginning of written history, and much of the
nonsense was indorsed by" writers of repute in
the last century. Tbe idea that our dead satel
lite has everything to do with so-called "lack'
in business enterprises and other affairs of in
dividual life is loo preposterous to be tolerated
by intelligent people hi our day.
It ni.iv dn among people that have not vet
fnlly felt tho awakening of this age of enlight
enment. In India, for instance, the Hindoos
imagine that they see a hare In the moon in
stead of the "man iu the moon eating soup
with a spoon" that adorns our'almanac. There
fore, the hare is a sacred animal in India, and
there aro heavy penalties for killing it. We may
safely say that it will make no difference in the
hapDiness of a yonng couple whether ihey be
married in the "light" or the "dark" of ths
moon, although there might be an unpleasant
suggestiveness in a ceremony when the moon Is,
in "her last quarter." J. H. WEBB.
.--
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