TOPICS OF THE TIMES AS THE CARTOONISTS .SEE THEM. JwS'ilfPllf if ' ... . m,w, , waiL... i IT A M J V'TlUlftl m Mb !m h W v V IT I 'u ,p 1 l POET lflUFttT"E Prj LwyPey BUTsrtBDfwn.ffT From the Sew Tork Telegram. i corrETvn,i.E entertains the outlasts. Chicago Trttntm. iMPn V iO)6Llj) TVE1TTEN- FOR THE DISPATCH BY BEATRICE WHITBY. COl'VEIGHT, ISA BV THE AUIHOIt. CHAPTER L The Western wind was wild and dark with fo.im. And all alone went she. AVe are at the sea. Change of air and scene is absolutely necessary lor the health of the orthodox IJriton once a year. Our lather sugested that we bhould spend the whole summer at home, iu onr lonely house in Norfolk, where there is nothing on earth to do but your duty. Of course he talked of poverty, bad harvests, reduction of rents lor grumbling fanners, and all those other philanthropic stinginesses of which we m omen hear when ue want extra pin money or extra amusement. I5ut we are a determined family. Oar opinions are as firmly established as the Government; we do not give way. My lather has four daughters who lead him in the path which he should tread, the result being that we are at the present time spend inc August at the seaside. Tnere are four of us four Miss Masters. My eldest sister, Millicent, is considered handsome; her lace is certainly sweeter than her disposition, her blue eyes iar franker than her tongue. She possesses what the poets call (without poetic license in her case) a weahh of golden hair; the curls and coils, the twists and loops were most expensive, for the color is rare, and, therefore, dear. 1 rank next in age to Millicent. I am 19; no one admires mc so fara&Iknow. Though my nose is sharp, my chin undeveloped, mv hair auburn, my teeth aggressive, my range of ision augumented by the use of eye-glasses, and my temper uncertain, yet I have a pretty wit which I love to exercise on my neighbors. My parents, as wouldbe divined by an in telligent reader, have som; originality of mind, though their ideas run much over much in one groove. Having called their eldest-born Mil licent, they named me, their .second daugh ter, Milderd, their third Muriel and, un able to shake oft the lascination of the if they grafted a French name upon onr Eng lish stock, end called the baby Melanie. We are an agreeably-sounding quartet, full of euphony and' alliteration. The Misses Millicent, Mildred, Muriel and Melanin Masters roll sonorously off the tongue; surnames are a melody of maiden hood. Hut, as 'Whose-his-name savs: 'Things are not what they seem," we have very little that is harmonious and melodious in our dispositions. We quarrel, we jar and dispute among ourselves. How ever, e unanimously allow tha: a woman who has no temper has no character, and uliat woman, nowadays, could endure to be characterless." J'erhapi our surname has some subtle influence upon us. "We are enrh one of us Masters at preicnt. Millicent is to change her name in the autumn. The wedding is fixed for October, but as her quarrels nith her betrothed, Maur.ce Mitchell, nre incessant and some time exceedingly violent, the engagement !s mi unusually precarious one. If Maurice had had the iint of a Masters, he would hate thrown her over week and weeks ago. I tnld him so, but hr said he iaia man who would "Sell poorhllM for pnniil deapali." if he ihliilt all that tort of thing about Millicent he must be mad, and it' is no use nrsuing with a lunatic I am not engaged nobody has chosen me but I have a partiality, a mere mild par tiality lor Mr. Close, our agent. The girls don't care for him; be is in appearance like my Scotch terrier, with a reddish face, smothered in rough, sandy hair and ruddy beard, but not nearly so likely a companion, for he does not follow me about like ray dog in fact, he does not follow me at all and he is very quiet and reserved. However, he is coming down here with my father this t afternoon: he shall take me out sea fishing wnen becomes; the girls are not good sailors, and it is dull to go alone. Maurice will be here by that time, and two more young men from the barracks who are coming partly lor the tennis tournament, and partly to make love to Muriel, who is a most abominable coquette. Our lodgings are dn the cliff, close to the sea. A zigzag path leads down upon the rocks. Our rooms are very dear and very dirty. They get dirtier every day; seaside lodgings are irritating. The bedroom which I share with Millicent smells of shrimps and mildew. Our chest of drawers wobbles and the wood has warped. That chest of drawers is a sermon on tact and a lesson in patience. You must maneuver and coax this sort of furniture. Once grow annoyed and you are lost; for when the drawers come out with a run they come out wholly and stay out. Our dusty water jus holds a meager pint of water; the basin is shallow; the towels arc fibrous and small; the bath is a Irving pan; the window rattles all night long; the bed is not filled with potatoes, as I was led to fancy, bnt scantily stuffed with hay and flock. Millicent and I have stormy times there together, very stormy times, if the looking glass is only half a foot square and cloudy there is no reason why she should monopo lize L There is wind enough to-day to blow your neau on, as wen as your nat. "If tempo s are surly ith netting nn o:n n- And tempers arc short in the morning," It is no wonder that n spirited familv should have a difference of opinion. We have had more than differences of opinion; we have had a domestic riot, with a" violent conclu sion. It happened m thi3 wise: The sea was rough; so rough, indeed, that the bathing woman herself, to the loss of her daily bread, advised us to forego our in tended bath; bat we had not risen at 7 o'clock iu the morning lor nothing. We do not, care for advice, ncr do c shrink from danzer; we arc courageous. Still, as we stood in the break of the waves, holding on to our ropes for dear life and trying to preserve our looting, when we were buffeted and beaten, when the breakers dashed spray into our laces, when onr feet were cut as the force of the water drew the shingle from beneath them, when the cold wiud whittled in our ears, I don't know which or us enjoyed herself, but I own that I did not. My sister Melanie I thin and iragllo; ihe likrt lo be thought delicate as a matter of fact, she is not robust so when a great ware came rolling In llkn rr,rn mountain. aud, leaning over her head, dealt her a blow on the chest which rolled her down anions ihs pebbles, she thought her last hour had come, Ai soon at her lutd was out of lb FEEUSC RATHEK LONESOME. "Well, oldfellow, you look as if you'd lest your last friend." "I have. The last one of 'em has jnst been nominated for an office." Chicago Kew i h THE SPECTACLE OP "CALICO" GRESIIAM IS ONE OF TIIE MANY PAIGN. St Louis Republic water she shrieked, let go her rope, and throwing up her arms, behaved as though she was making au effort to get drowued. I cannot swim, but I was near her, bo I plunged her way, and, gripping her by the hair, I tugged herto her feet. As she was too trightened to stand firmly the next in coming wave knocked her down for the sec ond time. She dragged me over, too. and and as I was screaming at her when I fell, I swallowed a quart ofsalt water and a peck of sand. Melanie's long, lean arm clutched me round the neck like a vise. Handicapped thus I could not regain my footing. The re treating wave sucked the shingle from be neath us we were drawn out. Melanie's panic was infectious, my shrieks joined hers, and were only silenced by a dashing column of water, wfiich broke upon u', and then lifting us on its breast, as though we were globules instead of women, rushed off with us inland. This time I clung to Melanie's plaits and struggled violently. Well, we were not drowned, but we were washed beneath the wheels of the bathing machine, from whence the bathing-woman extricated us more dead than alive. As soon as I could speak I attacked Melanie, who lay on the shingle, gasping and deadly pale. "It was all your fault," I sputtered, my teeth chattering. "You lost yur e'l as well as your footing. Just like" you." Her lips were blue, and she could hardly articulate, but a Masters is only silent in the grave.. "VVhy did you pull my hair?" she re torted raising herself upon her elbow. "What made you tug like that? The pain made me scream. There was no danger." - "No danger, of course," I snapped; "no danger for fishes at the bottom of the sea, and so no danger for oysters and the other idiots." "Now, now, young ladies," said the bathing woman, "don't you stay catching your death of cold to argufy. There is a long day when you are dry and in your clothes to spend in argufying." She had reason on her side. We drie 1 aud dressed and argued, too. Mv sisters sided with Melanie, and pitied her pale face. No one considered the gallon of salt water which she had compelled me to swal low. Injustice ot anv sort annoys me righteously aud violently annoys me. Our argument lasted through the breakfast hour, at the end of uhich I lost all that re mained to me of my temper, and, after throwing the tea cosy at Muriel, I broke ont ot the room in a passion, aud flew up, three steps at a time, to our bedroom, turn ing the key in the lock behind me. In due course of time Millicent followed me thither. I knew she would. I lay on the bed, grinning with malice, not at the new novel in my hand. ller lover,' Maurice Mitchell, was momentarily ex pected. She was to meet him af the sta tion, and she had neither hat, nor coat, nor curling tongs. She beseeched. prayed, cajoled me to unlock the door. I made no response. I listened to her moans, her whimpers, her humility, her threats thev were sweet in ray cars." "Mill, dear Mill; you cannot be so cruel. If I do not meet? Maurice he will bemad; he won't come here; he will go back by the next train; he has such a temper." Silence. "I will never forgive you, Mill." Still silence. "Let me in, Mildred. I have only a moment to spare, you may carry a joiie tco far." ' I laughed. It was my joke; I should carry it so far as I could. "Mill, if you won't let me in, at least throw mc my coal aud hat from the win dow." I laughed again. "Mill, you little beast, I have nothing to wear." "Borrow," I suggested, grinning sardon ically. I as in a position to grin. "If you aro so fond of Melanie, wear her clothes." At this suggestion sho pummeled nn the door pane viciously for a moment, and then, it time flew and I was inexorably firm, I heard her clattering down the stair and calling to the girls. Presently I had the satisfaction of seeing her hurry out toward the station clad In Melinl'e's pilot coat (which was of no ibapa In particular) with Murlel'a old gardtn hat flopping in the wind, on her disheveled hud. My litters narer lent tbeir beit elethei to aajo&e, fil CHAISI.ES TOSTER LAUGHING AT "WALTER Q. REPUBLICAN COilEDY FEATUT.ES 01' THIS CAM It was a pity I was too sulky to goto the tennis tournament; though the' day is wild and boisterous, vet the courts are so shel tered by the cliff that the wind will not in terfere with the plav. I felt a pxmg as I saw my mother, with Muriel and Melanie, who both looked very smart and smiling;' set off in the direction of the ground. I watch'ed.them out of sight; I saw the wind blow my mother's bonnet on one side; I saw it beat about the girls until it loosened their hair aud generally made away with their smiles and smartness. Xpw that I was alone in the house, now that all my share in the fun was over, now that nothing awaited me bnt Maurice's anger and Milliccnt's execration, I felt de pressed. However, repining is useless, and Mr. Close would console me. The train by which he and my father were to arrive was due. I would go and meet them. My hair was still damp; I twisted it up FOR THE SECOND TIME I SAT into a lump as big as a loaf at the back of my head; to this lump I attached my sailor hat with long pins. I put on my rough serge coat, and thus equipped I set off for the station. As I turned the corner I met Mr. Close. Ue was holding on his straw hat, the wind had divided his beard Into two portions, and blown it back over his shoulders. "Hulloal" I laid; "there you are at latt Where la father?" "He went straight to the tennis ground with your fitter and Mitchell." "I suppose you ara coming to tee me7" "Well, I can't eay that, for how was I to kaow where you were?" "I want to go out a-aihtni," X uld, abrupt!, "'1.1 fl JJ m.i n -- v s; ; i js as -' ""W Ml -' X "r :r'S DEMOCEATIC AMBITION1. English free trade has destroyed the industries of Ireland. ExcJiange. , Uemockvcy "I bat I can do the same thing on this side." Chicago IiUcr-Oaaru 'S' Trf " f" r ""t" AS INALIENABLE RIGnT. "JIr. Ardbrokc," said the landlady, "yon par up your board bill that's bscn a-run-ning now for more than six weeks or you leave the house to-niht." ""Madame," cried 3Ir. Ardbroke,"indi?nantly, "madame, do yon know ivhat von are doing? "Why, this is a terrible outrage, ir I move bsfore election dar I lose my vote This is worse than bayonets at the polls. How dare you raadamc?" Chicago Xews-P.ecord. "Do you?" casting a meaning glance at the sea. "I want to go to the tennis." "I hate tennisj'llike boating." "Cut you wouldn't like drowning, would you? There is no question of drowning. Will you tate me "Where?'' "Ont in a boat?" "Certainly not." "I want logo." "I see you do." "I am not allowed fo go alone." "Of course not." "And you won't take me? You refuse?" "I distinctly refuse, Miss Masters." These smiling rejoinncrs the sort of superior way.in which he pooh-poohed my wishes vexed me. I stamped with annoy ance, and after having said some rude things in a very rough voice, I turned away from him and ran off down the zig-zag path to the beach, making my way to tho DOWN ON TIIE SEAWEED. lonely ridge of cliff at the western extrem ity of the bay. Never glancing behind me, I clambered round the corner of tho rocks. Out ot sight of Scacombe and its revolting inhabitants, I seated myself upon a bed of seaweed and wiped my eyes. Girls of character weep angry tears occasionally and justifiably. Everything a Master does it justifiable. CHAPTER IL "and noma liuvo left me. And some aro taken front me; all aro de partod." In the heat of my fotllngi I had gone further from fieaeombe than I had intended to do, but it wai a comfort to bt 10 faraway I s .- Vi a- -. 6cwrv c & '"TRiBS from the world I hated, and to have no wit ness to my weakness. Imagine my exasperation when Mr. Close rounded the corner of the rock on which I was perched. I jumped up; af I did so my eveglasses swurg round, the, jerk severed the elastic to which they Were hutfg; they fell on the ground at my feet, and were broken into fragments this loss was a seri ous one. ' The wind and waves thundered and clashed all round: Mr. Close shouted at me thro' the din: "Why on earth have you cXme here?" "For'a walk." "You must be mad. Yon can see the danger-board behind you. Yon know that people have been drowned here before now. Foolhardiness is, not pluck." I asked him defiantly what interest he had in my concerns. "My friendship for your father," he re turned, as though he -would have implied: "No other, I assure you." "Then vour duty to my father is done; don t waste anv more time on me. Go back to the tenuis; I'm going on." My remark, no doub:, was partly smoth ered by the storm. Turning my 'back on Mr. Close, with my face set westward, I continued to clamber over the rocks in the direction contrary to that " of Seacombe. I was fairly sure" of foot, and I walked rapidly not looking back, until I had reached the point of tlie cliff, and rounded the rugged and perpendicular peninsnla. I had thought that Mr. Close was follow ing me; however, when I glanced behind me I found my mistake He was not in sight. I was alone alone, nnd a little inghtened. I could in anser Wave death when I hoped to punish mankind in general by doing so; in cold blood, where none bnt a seagull was witnes to my daring, such pluci; as I have possessed cozed out from mv finger tips. I looked out to sta; sullen waves, noun tain hiL'h, and crested with foam, came tear ins in upon tlfc broken crars. breakinewith J a crash like artillery upon tho roekr. I was Diinu witnout my giasses, when a shower of spray fell upon my upturned face, deluging me from head to foot, a panic seized me and I hurriedly turned, intending to retrace my steps, in doing so my foot slipped; no doubt my dim eyes, my sudden fear, my haste combined in making me un steady of gait. On the slimy seaweed I tottered, tried to save myself by catching at the jagced splinters of rock and failed. I fell, fell on my side, and rolling over the edge of the rock upon which I hid been standing, alighted a dozen feet below upon a ridge of rock which lay uncomfortably near to the angry and ircociing sea. Just for a moment I lay there, where I fell, half-stunned and breathless; the pain, the agonizing shoots of pain in my left arm turned mo sick. But the instinct of life preservation roused me. I struggled to my leet and began though every movement increased the pain 1 suffered to clamber up the rock out of reach ot the waves. My injured arm hung likt- a lo?, t:scless and maimed, by my side. My skins, intu rated with uatcr, clung close and heavy to my limb". The rock which I endeavored fo scale slanted somewhat; its surface was broken. Under other circumstances I could have clambered to the top in a moment. Now, with clouded eyes, swimming head, tremb ling limbs, my progress uas slow indeed. It I could not retrace my steps more swiftly than this, hqw in the name ot heaven should I reach aud cross the gulleys bclore the sea, by its advance, cut oft the possibility of re treat! My courage had been fainting; it now expired. I gave vent to shrieks for help shrieks so shrill aud piercing that thry rose abqve the noise of the storm, and brought the aid for which I clamored to my side. " Mr. Close, hardly less agitated than I was myself, stood beside me. '"Look at mv arm," I veiled, "it hangs like that; It hurts me fearfully. Why did you go away? If you had si ived here it would not hae happenad. You had no right to leave me." There was no violent coinpasion, tender stuipathy, nothing to soothe my feelings about Mr. Cloic. There was no apprnral, nothing like It iu his cycr. Ho nnnted neither words nor time, but ii cling my arm and muttering that It uas, in truth, broken, he bound It, both above and holnw ilia Irao ture witn our teverai haudKerebleii, to bli walking atlck. ,,. ,. r -iriy mmmmv. Mimr'''u lUrPfUfci THE CHICAGO WORLD'S FAIR MANAGERS INVlTATlojr. her oslt Oh! yancy rirtnlr, yonr plnrdy shanks Hiito lost tht-lraloiy no! For Johnson's wheel lia" jiaEed yonr heel. And led your nose, I trjw: ii. .mili"'JIJ,af'il " ?'-"" "' ".aq ! rtiirinir 1'iitr nrrn!rn T At Tint, enrnnm n loudly as I could have done, but my moans aud groan3 discomfited him. "Poor girl," he said, "it hurts badly. I am clumsy, but there is no time to waste wa must "be quick. We can't walk two abreast, there is barely foothold for a gull. But, if you keep your'head yon are a good climber. -Yes, yes, I sec the. fall hns upset you, but summon all your.pluck, there is not a moment to spare; we must round the cliff before the sea gets to the point. Come on." I did not "come on," I sat fiat down on the seaweed, and, rockiug myself to and fro, cried violently. "This will never do. Come, Mildred." "I won't come. I daren't move. I am afraid to stir. You must carry me. He looked at uie in a kind ot 'breathless horror. "Toattempt such a thing would be death to both of us," h cried. "Carry you along this slippery clifi? A sheer impossibility! You are so plucky, Mildred, come, you are not afraid." This appeal did not touch me. "I am atMid. I am awfully afraid, and I shall not come. You have not got a broken arm." "I can't carry you," he said he did not look angry, only rather white "but, per haps lean help yon. Stan 1 up." I did so, then he' took off" his necktie, which he slipped through my leathern belt at the back, and holding the ends of this support in his hand he drove me on ahead of him. Though I stasgered and tottered, and though my heafl reeled, yet the firm ness of his grasp was reassuring and I clambered on. All the rude and angry things I said to him in my pain and Icar may have been drowned in the din of the storm; at any rate, ke never answered me. Any man would have shown forbearance with the owner of a broken arm. It was a terrible climb in the teeth of the wind. I do not suppose that Mr. Close was a coward, but when we reached the jotting cliff and found that the sea. had submerged the gulley, in which the breakers seethed and loareil, he turued white as death and set his teeth, groaning with as deep a groan as any which my shattered arm had wrung from mc. I began to crv nfreslu "Look ! look !" I said, "the sea is deep upon the path, the tide has turned bclore its time. I know it has. And I can't swim; no one could swim jn such a sea. We shall be drowned, we must be drowned; nothing can save us." Mr. Close's words were more reassuring than his face. He said that on his way he had met two fishermen, who, on hearing whither he was bound, had warned him of the tide and of the.danger of the rocks. "I told them why I went," he said; "no douht they'll keep a look out for us, and when wedon't come back they will under stand." "Understanding is no good," I sobbed, "they can't save us, no beat could take us off; "the storm is tearful, and I can't be hauled tip the cliff with a broken arm; it would be agony." A wave, bigger by far than its fellows, came tearing up the gulley at a gallop, drer.chiDg',the rock on which we stood. "We must go back," Mr. Close said, "this place isn't safe now. We must climb as fur up the cliff as possible; with luck we may ba ubie to reach high water mark and save ourselves without the help of anyone." For the recond time I sat down on the seaweed and refused to move; the pain and terror drove me frantic. Mr. Close scolded, beseeched, implored, threatened me. I was immovable. Finally he resorted to a measure which undid us buth; he was palo as ashtfs, and his rough voice grciv tender, n gentleness softened his shrewd eyes. I held my breath, and stopped uiv sobs and listened. ''.Mildred," he tld, "yon are a woman. You must have benrath these childish vagar ies a woman's hears. It you won't think or vour lifr, think of mine, which is nut iihollv mine, lor I have given it away and come." I arose slowly to my feel, nnd went a slip In the direction lie indicated. My own voice ti nut sweet, It croaked, lint It was very low. "Given up lllr? What nontentel Who to?" "To tome one for whom I mint keep It.MII drtd. Hhe Uilnkt It it worth ktenluir," ''Whoiene?,, , "WiKlfW, I mm WERE TOO BI7ST TO ACCEPT XETVYORK'sl? JWir York World. cnxr.es. r.nt here's a chance for nimble Nance, The I u turn hnlila in store! Once In the s-.ri'n. sho'U distance him, T;to quarter posts or more! U. B. a. in Puck. I thought I knew the answer my arm ceased aching as I listened. "You do not know her?" "Don't I, really." ' "No; j Q.iihavd" Eevelrseen her. 8'ie is a cousin of my on n." The pain "came throbbing Backinto my arm, and darted farther, hot and sharp, in my side. I locked at him. He met my gaze with a conscious smile, which means but one thing in the world. The blood came rushing to my head, turning me dizzy. "I do not know her?" "Ves." 'You onlv want her?" ' "Only her." Again that smile which meant, so much maddened me. I had halted dead; I felt him pulling at my belt to indace me to move on. 'Leave me clone." I cried, struggling to free myself. "Let me go. How dare you touch me, I don't want you to save mc I wonld rather die. Let me go." As he but held me the closer for my struggles, I lost all attempt at self-control; I wrenched i&!ently at his restraining hand, wrenching myself free. He made a grasp at my skirt, which I leaped aside to avoid; for the second timo that day my foot slipped; for the second time I fell. But this time there was no reck beneath; nothing between me and tho raging sea nothing between the furious waves and me. When I straggled painfully back to a painful existence I foumL myself in an un known room. Many days passed before I had strength to feel interest in the past, present or future. I lay passive, lulled into quiescence by the narcotics given ms by the doctor, who haunted my bedside at this period. But the dreamy indiffereceo was not to last; gradually my facnlties re awakened, my powers of suffering and thought returned. I was considered equal to hear what must be told me, and so tho storr was told. My mother broke the sad part of that tals slowly and considerately to me. But whether one is lowered gently into the arm of sorrow or flung hurriedly thither, pain wean the same grim aspect face to face. It seemed that at the same moment aa I fell into the sea the fishermen of whom I had heard came in sight. They saw ma fall saw the great wave which engulfed mc as I fell, saw Mr. Close spring after me, saw him grasp me by the hair, saw ns rolled over nnd over in a surging breaker. Saw m second wave break upon us and wash us to their very feet. They caught me by th skirt and pulled me out upon the reck in sensible and, so far as they knew, dead. 1 was saved, bnt my comrade, strong aa he was, could make no headway in that wild sea. He was dashed again and again against the crags, so that when tbey found fits body some time later in a creeK beyond the bay he was so bruised and hurt, so torn and battered as to be hardly recogniz able. This was the storr they broke to me and to which I listened. It was the kind of story which goes drumming on in yourears. always telling, never told. It drags in all the h'onrs and days of life to swell ita full ness. I have not finished hearing it, and my hair is gray. The winds whisper it in every storm, 'and the birds sing it. It ia always near, so that I cannot forget. She has forgotten, that consin of bis. Sh wore, widow's weeds aud made a great to-do; and then she married, and is very happy, ' so I hear, and very prosperous. My sisters, too, aro married. I tee them,, bnt seldom. They nre no pleosanter matrons thvi as girls. Jo one has ( wished to marrv me. So I have litfj. interest me. and mv memory doci tfot i I live alone, finite alone, save lor mv ser vant and mv parrot. My neighbors tay 1 that pollr ami I are the most cross-grained old people in the parish. This may ba true, lor J know nothing of the people. Ther don't coitc my way. and I certainly i don't wish that they shonld. Ih.tte grown thin, wrinkled and bent.'' In the winter I feel the cold. I have bad t more to do with tempera than hearts In my day; and tempers are cold cntnlort on tho road downward alter all. I wear a faded necktie around my neck. The color wa washed out of It rears and years ago; bat It clings together still. It will last out ray lime, no doukt. 1 hope It mar, for It la Un only bit of warmth I reel omctlmt, Tub Esd. . f-v BE Tta
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