I Modern Savalry-Trairjng 3 -jr N eminent military expert, / \ having extolled the cavalry of his own country, continues: *" "The same is practically true of the American horse soldier, only perhaps a little more so, because, es pecially 'out West,' the American al most lives on horseback, and of course he has the old Anglo-Saxon affection I 'fohiwountcdi "•itswrrcwsVvrrs ready Vo • v-.T'"!i "Trooper* „fcnd 'founts ciov/n urvacr fire w V/ - ; T :-r -- l*^.' - - 'v. /=k ■' v--- - -x ifor horseflesh in his blood. Then, too, some of the most graceful horsemen lu the world are to be found in the Southern States. The great training, however, of these cavalrymen has been found in the Indian wars. Their work there was rough-riding in the very truest sense of the word, and nowhere ■could man and horse be found more perfectly joined as a fighting unit than l~ \ I TEACHING lIORSES TO LIE DOWN. ©n those wild battle-grounds on which the white man and the red man fought their last fights." During the earlier stages the train ing of the United States cavalryman differs in no essential particulars from that of the infantryman, but, later on, the great variety of instruction in the cavalry arm of the service renders !t most interesting for both officers and troopers. Beginning with tl* "set ting-up"' exercises, the recruit looks forward to the time when he shall be assigned his horse and be a full-fledged cavalryman. The new horses, or "re mounts," as they are called, no doubt also look for the time when neck bending lessons, the passaging, the turning of the forehead to cae r.gtit and left, about, etc., are over, and longs, as does the recruit to be among the horses that know how to handle themselves from their foretops to their heels. After the soldier has learned to sit his saddle and to govern his iiorse, lie gets the more interesting finishing-work—jumping, potato races, Ei.bre practice and rough riding, Jn Y —I i__ / A FANCY CAVALHY EVOLUTION—THE MOVING Oil OS J. the old cavalry regiments, before the 'Spanish war mill the present reorgani zation, whole troops could give exhi bitions of Cossack riding that were pot to be seen outs'de of a cricus. Tlie troop known ns the "Black Horse Cavalry," at Fort Myer, Vir ginia, contains men who are believed to be the finest riders in America. Thousands of Washington society peo ple go out to witness their weekly ex hibition drills, and are not only inter ested, but excited, for there is nothing more thrilling tlwn a drill with the vigor, snap and precision that are characteristic of our American cav alry. Beginning with the simpler evo lutions of the troop these "Black Horse" troopers go through the "School of the Troop" at all gaits with equal precision anil a marvelous uniformity. As in some of the Euro pean armies all American cavalrymen are dragoons, that is to say, they are trained to fight both mounted and dis mounted. While dashing down the drill-ground, doing some intricate movement, the troop Is given the com mand "dismount to light on foot," and in a couple of seconds the men are in an infantry skirmish line, and their horses are being led to the rear, at a full gallop, by the No. 4 of each set of fours. The skirmish line advances, firing "volleys by platoons," "by squads," "firing at will," etc. Upon arriving at the proper distance "mag azine rapid fire" is ordered, and finally the imaginary enemy is charged and captured. Then follow the exhibitions of individual horsemanship—jumping over hurdles and fences and covering ditches and stone walls. A most iu teresting feature of the drill at Fort Myer is the training of the horses and their use by the troopers as a shelter from the enemy's lire. At the com mand of the captain, a word from each trooper, and the horse goes down with out a quiver, and lies at full length on the ground, while the troopers fire with carbine and revolver from be hind their shelter, and with the weap ons resting on the horses' backs. An other word of command, the firing ceases, the horses are all standing, the trooper in the saddle, awaiting further instructions. For the Musical Ride the arena is cleared, and from one of the entrances at the extreme end the band rides in, followed by the entire troop, now dressed in full review uniform, and slowly circle around the inclosure. The entry is made In pairs, dividing to the opposite sides of the ground, the horses keeping time to the music, and moving as a unit, turning, wheel ing, halting, taking up the trot, the gallop anil the charge with the accur acy, regularity and mechanical pre cision of clock-work. At the entrance eml the leaders wheel about and break into a canter, whjch Is followed by all while a number of fancy movements are gone through with—crossing and counter-crossing, forming stars, form ing the figure eight, the ladies' chain, circling around each other, and so on, until the spectators are worked up to the highest enthusiasm. When these figures are finished the troop draw up in two files at the end of the arena and charge at full gallop, cheer ing and yelling, and only halting with- in a lew inches of the wall at the other end of the anna, when it seems that every rider's neck will be broken by tiie collision.—lTrltz Morris, in Harper's Weekly. OOOCOOCOOOOOOOOOGOOOOCOOOa r? § g Eausidering tlje Monorail « O Tim Itehr Rnllicaf Again ISoforn the Kngliah Kngliah House of Parliament. q 6 o oooooooocooooooooooooooooo THE Belir Monorail system, by which It Is proposed to give a lightning passenger service between Manchester and Liv erpool, after having met with all kinds of experiences before the Eng lish House of Parliament, Is again be- fore that body demanding recognition. The measure is now being considered by a committee of the House of Com mons, before which Mr. Behr has again appeared. He stated that he had designed carriages to give accom modation for 10,000 passengers a day, WIX I'M i .'"'.'l'Jff'V »■ « • SECTION OF TOE BEIIII MONOKAIL CAR. and another series for "500 passengers, but lie said it would be as unfair in the committee to bind him to any de sign of carriage as it would have beun _ ' C iNTamoR V/S*, // 1 Ca*7 £HO*,'»G Wtfito &thk*£Ss *+^9Kem*e+mo-' ' | J2 t to limit Stephenson to tlie "Rocket" type of locomotive. The carriage, of which this is a sectional view, is sixty feet long and ten feet ten inches wide, and has accommodation for 100 pas sengers, each person having a separate seat, specially arranged so as to avoid discomfort while passing round the curves at high speed. The electric current is picked up by trolleys at tached to the car, but insulated from the bottom of the bogies flexibly coupled together by a specially de signed joint, of which the carriage consists. The bottom part of the car riage is quite open, so that all the guide wheels are exposed to view, and there is ample play between the car riage and the line. The motors only are completely shut oIT on all sides by a box for their protection. The guide wheels are two feet in diameter, and there are sixteen. They are very broad, and are inclined vertically to the trestles, Instead of being horizon tal, thereby considerably reducing the friction. The guide wheels below the driving wheels are attached to the un der frame of tlie carriage, and those between the two small bogie wheels are attached to the centre of the bogie itself, so that they cannot move at all with the carriage frame. QUEER DIFFERENCES IN CATTLE. They Are the Direct Ileanlt of Nation* Prejudices. That it is possible for popular tast< to exercise a most potent influence or tlie development of animals that ar« used for food has lately been shown in the difference between French an<! English cattle. The English arc very fond of roast meat and show a marked preference for those portions of a cow, such as the fillet, that are in the region of tlio loins, whereas the French like nothing bedter than "pot-au-feu," which is made of soup and boiled meat, the rump being the part of the animal from which the meat is taken. Thus, if It is true that steak is the most pop ular dish in England, so it is equally true that "pot-au-feu" or beef a la mode is the most popular dish lu France. I iEN-SLXsa [FRENCH | I a I : Tr"** < ■;{. § Oil ' J "iilifiw ll iwiiiiii— ii iTI The numbers 1, 2 and 3 in the accom pi-iying pictures indicate, respectively, (lit. tirst, second and third qualities of meat, as they are rated in the markets of Paris, London and Berlin. It will be seen that in France the entire rump and a small portion of the back are re garded as of first quality, that the shoulder and flank take second rank, and that tlio head, limbs and stomach are not highly prized. In London and Berlin, on the other hand, only the up per part of the rump Is regarded as of tirst quality, though not better than the lolnS, and the shoulder is con signed to the third tank. These differences of taste are not more striking than the differences be tween the animals themselves. A Dur ham has a sharply defined head and a small neck and shoulders; Its back is large, and is developed in a horizontal direction, the evident reason being be cause breeders took most pains to im prove that portion of the animal in which is tlio fillet, so dear to the Eng lish and German palate. On the other hand the rump Is hardly developed at all. In a Limousin cow, on the con trary, the rump is greatly developed. "These differences are not the result of chance," says M. Paul Difflotli. a wrti-known French agriculturist, who has been studying the subject. "The Durham cow of to-day was created, so to speak, by the brothers Charles and Itobert Colling, and its ancestors were the shorthorns that used to feed on the pastures of Durham. Their shape was faulty, however, and Rois ert Colling, noticing one day a beauti fully formed calf in a yard behind a blacksmith's shop, determined to try and improve the breed by means of ir. "The experiment succeeded, and from this calf, known later on as the celebrated Ilubback, the Durham of to-day are descended. These English cattle differ in many respects from those of France, and the difference must Iv ascribed in great measure to i tlie fact that the British and Germans like beefsteak and roast beef and the I runicn j 0 J\i AW& I I 1 French like 'potau'feu' and beef a la mode." A. head of fair hair consists of 143,• 040 hairs, dark 105,000. while a red head lias only UO.UOO. Fair-haired peo ple are becoming less numerous than formerly. ARCHERY IN DAYS OF OLD. A Law Prencrlbinf; the Minimum Di*> tance to Be Shot Over. In England shooting with the long bow was for centuries the chief na tional pastime, and its practice was enforced by several acts of parlia ment. Two kinds of arrows were used—first, the flight arrow, a long, thin arrow, with plain iron point, which was employed only for long distance shooting; second, the sheaf arrow, a heavier shaft than the for mer, tipped with a jagged, barbed iron head, two-pronged like a fork, which was the weapon for short ranges. By an act of Henry VIII., it was forbidden for any man over 24 years old to shoot at a mark nearer than 220 yards with a flight arrow, or 140 yards with a sheaf arrow. The old French archers, however, justly celebrated as they were for the long range and precision of their shots, could not accomplish more than COO yards. The greatest range which pui modern bowmen can attain is from 300 to 400 yards. In 1795 the Turkish ambassador attended a meeting of the Toxopholite society in London, and there shot against the wind 415 yards and with the wind 4G3 yards. He had a short Turkish bow, and a very light arrow 25 inches long, with small feathers. In bygone days, therefore, when our ancestors were famous and formida ble with the longbow, the shooting grounds attached to every town, if not also village, in the kingdom answered to the volunteer rifle ranges of mod ern times. It would appear, however, that the annual meetings of the Rifle association had their counterpart in the open competitions which were frequently held in the neighborhood of Finsbury. There is extant "A plan of all the marks belonging to the Hon orable artillery company in the fields near Finsbury with the true dis tances as they stood anno 1737. for the use of longbows, crossbows, hand guns and artillery." Eight or 10 fields are included in the plan, and the whole length of this early nisley appears to be one mile, by about 400 yards wide. The longest distance be tween any two marks is 2G5 yards. What may be termed the first inter national shooting competition was held on the "Field of the Cloth of Gold," when the English crossbow men matched themselves in friendly rivalry against the French. The range was 12-score yards; and the English team, which included Henry VIII. in person, came off easy winners. The bow for several centuries after the invention of small arms was con sidered the more perfect weapon, and did not disappear from the English army until 1627. Charles 11., on his restoration, did much toward the re vival of archery. During that reign important meetings were held at Hampton Court and in Hyde Park, and attracted as many as 7000 arch ers and crossbowmen from all parts of the country. The crossbowmen shot nearly 20-score yards, and to the amazement of spectators made excel lent shooting at that distance. At one of these meetings in Hyde Park three regiments of foot, which were being drilled in the vicinity, threw down their muskets in disgust and broke their ranks togo and watch the old national pastime. These displays gen erally concluded with showers of whistling arrows, which are supposed to have been used by the picket guards to give notice to the camp of the enemy's approach during the night. From that period until the latter part of the ISth century, arch ery appears to have been almost for gotten, and then was revived as a fashionable and pleasing amusement. Ine Toxopholite society was founded in 17S0 by Sir Ash ton Lever. —London Globe. Hardly Accurate. She had returned with an M. D from a university after her name, and had been elected to the chair of Eng lish Literature in a small local col lege. On the day before the session opened, the president was explaining to her the duties of her place. "In addition to your wont in English lit erature," he said, with apologetic lies itation, "I should like you to take the junior and senior classes in elocution and also assume charge of the pliysi eal culture." "Is there no teacher of elocution?' asked Miss Jones. "Well, no; not at present." "And who has charge of the physi cal training?" "To tell the truth we have no teach er as yet. You perhaps noticed in the catalogue that those two depart ments were 'to be supplied.' " "And I was elected to the chair of English Literature —" "Yes." the president answered, gloomily. But he was reassured by her win ning smile. "I will take the work and do what I can with it, Dr. Smith," she said, brightly: "but why didn't you write nie at first that the 'chair' was a settee?"—M. A. 8., in The Drawer Harper's Magazine. Hot the Information. The great criminal lawyer was ques tioning the witness in the murder trial as to the exact location of the wound in th? murdered man's body. "You witnessed the shooting, you say?" he asked. "Yes, sir, I did." 'Where was Brown shot?" the second floor, sir."—New York Times. slip l>i<l »« lie A<lvi»eil. Hoeun —What happened when you told your mother-in-law to mind her own business? Focus —I don't exactly know. V-hen I recovered consciousness I was In the hospital.—Tit-Bits. HUMOROUS. Wigg—He is a stocking turer. Wagg—The man with the hose, eh? Mother—l am surprised, my dear* that you suffer'a man to kiss you. Daughter—Hut, mamma, I don't call it suffering. Rollingstono Nomoss —D'ye t'ink it's good luck to find a horseshoe? Tat terdan Torn—Yes, if dere's a horse attached to it. He (at the store) —This ocean breeze is awful damp. It makes a fellow's mustache very salty. She (absent mindedly)—Yes, I noticed that. "It's peculiar what makes most peo ple busy," remarked Mrs. Kostique. "What's that?" asked the inquisitive Mrs. Naybor. "Idle curiosity." "That white cow," said the waggish' farmer, "is the one that gives milk." "Ah," exclaimed the city girl, "and those brown ones, I suppose, give beet tea." Mrs. Muggins—At any rate, Mrs. Stuckup never talks about her neigh bors. Mrs. Buggins—Of course not. She's always too busy talking about herself. They had been discussing the weath er. "Let us talk about something pleasant," said the Wise Guy. "I had frosted feet last winter," volunteered the Simple Mug. Hungry Hawkins—l onct answered a want ad. Tatterdon Torn —Gwan. Wot was de job? Hungry Hawkins- It was all a mistake. A printer ad vertised fer a good feeder. h"apa—What on earth do Bessie and that young man And to talk about? Mamma —Oh, questions of the hour, I suppose. Papa—l'll bet they haven't the remotest idea what the hour is. The boat was just off Tacony, where the saw works are. "What a beautiful view," she exclaimed. "Yes," he replied, "nere is a place where Disstons lends enchantment to the view." A load of peaches was being driven to the canning factory. "There it is," cried one peach, as the building loomed up in the distance. "Yes; wouldn't that jar you?" exclaimed an other peach. THE SALVATION ARMY. Its Growth and Work During Thirly-fiv® Year A of Experience. At the Congress hall, Clapton, on Monday night, General Booth, the leader of the Salvation Army, spoke on"The lesson of my life, as illus trated by the social and spiritual op erations of the Salvation Army." Mr. T. Herbert Robertson, M. P., presided. There were about 3500 people present. The general said that he regarded the cordiality of his reception as an appreciation of the good work done by the army—a work into which in vestigation was courted, as there was nothing to conceal. They knew noth ing of orthodoxy; the good old book was good enough for them, and they believed in everlasting heaven and everlasting hell. He did not say that the army had been successful at all times and in all places; that was hard ly to be expected when it was remem bered that they had gone to the low est classes and also that they were late comers in the field. What they were now doing he regarded as only the fringe of what they would do. The army work was divided into two classes, tne spiritual side and the social side. Although ho did not like it, there were some people who wished to help one side and some the other, and as an illustration of that he men tioned that a gentleman recently en tered his office and gave him £IOOO to help forward the work among the poor. Some idea of that work was given in "Darkest England and the Way Out." which had enabled him to give personally to the army's work to the extent of £7OOO. Although they were only 35 years old. their flag was flying in 47 different coun tries in which there were tens of thousands of Salvationists, members of 7200 separate societies; they had 14,000 officers, with 40,000 lay offi cers and 17,000 bondsmen. They pub lished their periodicals in 30 different languages and preached salvation in 40 different tongues. Tliey published 50.000.000 copies annually of their dif ferent publications. During the last 10 years they had established 609 social Institutions, for which work they had raised 1700 offi cers. They sheltered 15.000 people of the most wretched class; they provided beds for a penny and hot baths for a half-penny. Four million persons last year were provided with beds, 6.000,- 000 with meals; 77 workshops and factories had been started, and 36.189 men were given work lns:t year. As an inst .CO of the clans of people the army reached he mentioned that in one of then London homes they had ive men who had among them served 279 years in prison. Thirteen farms 0.-ere worked in different p:irts, and he lid not despair of yet having a colony jver the sea.—London Times. Ounlitioil lor 111- War OM<-i>. A celebrated surgeon met a joung officer in Piccadilly the other day and greeted him with surprise: "Well, I am pleased to see you. I am sur prised. Do you know I have a portion of your brain in a jar at home?" "Ah. well." laughed the other, "I can easily spare that. 1 have got a berth in the war office." —London Vanity Pair. According to a New York news paper, which professes to have mado a diligent and thorough inquiry, there are 3S2S millionaires in the United States
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers