Freeland Tribune Established ISSB. PUBLISHED EVERY MONDAY AND THURSDAY, BY THE TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY, Limited OFFICE: MAIN STREET ABOVE CENTRE. FREELAND, TA. SUBSCRIPTION KATES: One Year 61.50 Six Months 75 Four Months 50 Two Months 25 The date which the subscription i 3 paid to is on the address label of each paper, tho change of which to a subsequent date be comes a receipt for remittance. Keep the figures in advance of the present date. Re port promptly to this office whenever paper Is not received. Arrearages must bu puid when subscription is discontinued. Make all money orders, checks, etc,,payable to the Tribune Printing Company, Limited Western Australia has an act In force prohibiting the landing of any one who cannot write out a given pas sage in English. A Chicago policeman has been held up and his money and badgo have been taken away from him. Perhaps now the local authorities will do some thing to put a stop to the barbarous state of affairs that prevails in that city. This is a case of bringing it home to official circles. The new expedition which is being organized to search for Andrea is like ly to make another necessary next year to search for its own relics. The Pole meantime preserves its situation of splendid isolation beyond the reach of dogsled or balloon, where it is likely to remain, doing a strictly domestio business at the old stand for a long time to come. The annual inspection of tho seal rookeries on the Pnbilof Islands by the United States Fish Commission during the season just passed showed that the seals are still diminishing in numbers, the decrease being twice as great as it was in 1897. Enough seals remain, however, to restore the herd in a few years, if the killing of the animals at sea can be prevented. John Bull does not hesitate to util ize material wherever found. He al ready has native regiments in India, Egypt and other colonies, and is now engaged in raising a regiment of Chi nese, to be commanded by English men. The economy of the movement, too, will be in the fact that, while the troops fight for England, tho Chinese Government will jjrobably pay them. Fiaise tho price of a life to §50,000 when it is lost by the criminal care lessness of a railroad company and there will be no more criminal care lessness, says the New York Press. Make them pay. Touch the pocket books of the directors and you touch their souls. No railroad company wants to kill people and destroy roll ing stock. It is an expensive luxury already. Make it more expensive. It may or may not be comforting to tho relatives and friends of Professor Andree to be assured that tho aeronaut who constructed the great balloon be lieves the missing scientist and his companions to have crossed the north pole and landed on the other side. The average person is apt to inquire how the situation would be materially improved even could proof of Andree's existence be given. Having reached the north pole, the problem of how to get back would still remain to be solved before the world could hope to benefit by the intrepid explorer's feat. So the Czar stole the Kaiser's thun der! That is the news conveyed to the New York Herald from Paris, which quotes a prominent politician who has just returned from St. Peters burg. According to tbe story, the Princess Henry, in writing to her sis ter the Czarina, mentioned the Kaiser's plan to deliver on tho site of the Sepulchre aJ i address on the glories of peace. Thereupon the Czar, who thought tho idea a good one, got ahead of his brother sovereign by is suing his famous peace rescript. A very pretty story, and not tho less in terestingas itreveals the two monarchs iu the role of universal peacemakers. The Secret Drinker. The secret drinker Is no doubt injured in the same way as others, and ills foolish ef forts to conceal this act intensifies the In jury, which after n time breaks out in some unexpected form, ending fatally. The sud den, unexpected death of persons'provious ly supposed to bo well, has in many cases revealed the fact of secret spirit drinking of many years' duration, with destruction of vitality and general decadence. Life in surance companies are often aware of this fact, and appeal for help, but it is exceed ingly difficult to convict or prove secret drinking in a man with a large insurunce, and more difficult after death to bring out tide fact. The law in these oases will sel dom allow presumptive evidence; it must be direct and positive of the use of spirits. Unmistakable insanity Is present In some eases, seen in the unusual cunning and wise calculation to procure spirits and Con ceal Its effects. ✓ \, i\/v /'♦ v*\/*\/<e\/*\/*\y*\y*\y*\y *\/♦\/K^v*\/l\^^/ | lv'*\/*\ 111 TALK WITH MADAME DREYFUSI W w Her Story About Her Husband, the Famous Pris- <£> (J> oner of Devil's Island. <f> [This interview with Madame Proyfus lias been obtained by Miss Mary Spencer Warren only after great difficulties. Her correspondence while she was in Paris was tampetod with, nnd oven the letters to our office have met with similar treatment.] I am writing this in Paris, where nearly every question of the day is relegated to the background, and tho Dreyfus case is still the one absorb ing topic of the hour. Furthermore, I have just returned to the city from a long and interesting chat with the much-to-be-pitied, brave and true hearted iady who is one of the victims of this nineteenth fcentury tragedy. It is not easy accurately to picture the situation here—tho difficulty one has in gaining even the location of Madame Alfred Dreyfus! People are simply afraid to say what they know, they may be speaking to a police spy; and whatever their own private opinion muy be, they would rathor not state it, or, in fact, bo drawn into any conversation on the subject. Said a prominent French personage to me when we were discussing the mat ter together: "Do not write to Madame Dreyfus and trust to tho post; your letter will be opened. Go to her; or, if yon have anything you wish to say by letter, send a trusty messenger, or deliver it personally." This from a country whose boast i 3 "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity!" For some time now Madame has re sided at a quiet little village on the Seine, a few mile 3 out of Paris. Here she can obtain greater seclusion for herself, with fresh country air and the delights of a garden for her chil dren. The village is beautifully situ ated, and the house stands in a charm ing garden, bright with flower-beds and lawn, flanked by pine, acacia and other trees. The letter which I had carefully deposited in the hands of a servant of the house two days before had prepared Madame Dreyfus for my visit, and in a few moments after I arrived we were engaged in an ani mated conversation. The first thing of which I became convinced was that the lady with whom I was talking was extremely nnxious to avoid all unnecessary pub licity. Well aware of the great inter est the couutries of Europe are taking in the painful case of her husband, and compelled as she is by tho forco #f circumstances to keep herself be fore the public, yet she shrinks palpa bly from self advertisement, and Would prefer, if possible, to livo alto gether apart from the world. "For the children's sake" a bright, cheerful face belies tho aching heart that must bo the lot of her who is forcibly separ ated from one who is dearer to her than life itself. And for "the chil dren's sake" tho mother has an added desire for seclusion. Tho bright eyed, merry, and altogether light hearted littlo ones do not understand the sad tragedy that has darkened their home; thoy think that their father is traveling, and talk joyfully of his return, planning in their artless way the many things to be dono when "father comes home." It is better to keep them in ignorance as long as possible; and in response to my re quest for photographs, Madame Drey fus tells me that she is sorry to have to refuse, but that she does not wish cither her own or her children's feat ures to become familiar to the public. Thero are no photographs of either of them in existence, and she would rather that such colitinue to be the case. One could not press the mat ter—it would be both indelicate and unkind; but when I sought permis sion to reproduce the portrait of Cap tain Dreyfus, I was rather surprised to hear that the gentleman had only been photographed once in his life— that was many years ago, when he was a young lieutenaut —it was done by a friend and bore very little resemblance to the clever and energetic Captain of the Staff of more recent days. Any portrait which has appeared of either husband or wife is neither authentic nor author ized, and is, in fact, only imaginative. Madame has no photograph of her husband in the house, neither has she the remotest scrap of his writing. The reason for the non-pessession of the latter is obvious; the authorities were too auxiou3 to establish tho guilt of the captain to leave much in the house which might be helpful to his de fenders. Much is said about the monthly let ters the unhappy prisoner at the lie du Diable sonds to his wife, but no one need land the leniency of tho Govern ment iu this respect—these letters never reach their destination. They go to the Central prison and aro there filtered. It is only what the authorities are pleased to allow which ultimately reaches Madame Dreyfus. Even then tho contents are sad beyond all ex pression, and though the captain de clares his trust in God, and believes his innocence will be ultimately estab lished before the world, yet lie cannot prevent the ring of despair at his lot and the occasional expression of acute suffering becoming paramount. His devoted love for bis wife rnu3 through every epistle, and one cannot but feel tho deepest sympathy for the unfor tunate soldier iu his gloomy exile when ho writes such words as the following: "How all my love for you comes home to mo at this moment! It is solely the thought of you, my poor darling, that enables me to struggle on To think that I ara accused of the most mon strous crime a soldier can commit! Even to-day it seems to me that I am the sport of a horrible nightmare;.... but rest assured that if I am success ful in treading this Calvary to the end it will bo for your sake, my poor darl ing; it will be to avoid for you a fresh sorrow iu addition to all those you have already supported Your cour- a f? e > your devotion, are sublime; you are assuredly one of the noblest women of the world; my admiration [ for you is oueh that if I succeed in drinking my bitter cup to the dregs it will be iu order to be worthy of your heroism. I wring my hands in grief for you and for our children! All around me is profound silence.broken only by the moaning of the sea. Do Dot weep, dearest; I will struggle to the last minute for your sake and for that of my children. Embrace them tenderly for me." Words cannot describe the love of poor Alfred Dreyfus for his children, and they are children to be proud of. Pierre, bis mother tells me, is the liv ing image of his father. He is tall, well-built, and thoroughly manly, giving the impression of a more ad vanced age thnn the seven years which can actually be credited to him. He has a high forehead, large, dark eyes, nose of the Grecian type, and a firm but sweet-tempered mouth; a very intelligent, bright boy in every respect. He still remembers bis father, spite of the four years whioh have separated them, and he evidences the most profound love for the mother to whom he is so dear. The little Jeanne resembles her mother very closely in features, but, unlike her, has very fair hair and big blue eyes. "Great as is your trouble," said I to Madame Dreyfus, "it would bo far greater were it not ior the children." And the mother's answer was one of almost unutterable thankfulness that so much comfort was accorded her. Need I say that it is extremely painful to Madame Dreyfus to recall the past? Her marriage, unlike many in France, was oue of pure affection, and over the first few years of wedded existence no cloud came. The hus band was absorbed in his profession and his home, and the wife in her hus band and household. When not at his duties, Captain Dreyfus was invari ably with his wife; in her own words, "We were all in nil to each other." What it must have been to such n couple when they were suddenly and forcibly torn from each other no pen can describe. Without a sign or a word to warn them of the impending catastrophe, Captain Dreyfus was ar rested at the instigntion of tho secret police, and charged with selling army secrets to a foreign government. Hold guilty by the army and tho country before he was tried, a secret court-martial professed to prove him so, and tho unhappy man was sen tenced to bo degraded from his army rank and to suffer perpet ual imprisonment. It was said at the time that the country to whom the secrets were sold was Germany, an additional cause for the howl of hatred which was directed against the so-called traitor. Butthere are not wanting many in the country now—and I have conversed with num bers this week—who believe that Rus sia, and not Germany, was the coun try, and that in the face of recent events the French simply dare not make the papers public—or, at any rate, would resist doing so until the last possible moment. Strong pres sure hns now been brought to bear upon the authorities, startling revela tions have taken place, certain docu ments in the case have been proved to bo forgeries—why not all? A very cursory examination of tho writing of French officers shows a striking family likeness; mistake as to authorship is probable, and imitation would not be an impossible feat; and this is the steadfast opinion of Madame Dreyfus. Aterriblo mistake has been made; her husband's writing does closely resem ble the famous bordereau, and this hns been the primary cause of all the mis chief. Having once found him guilty, the War Office has persistently refused to entertain the remotest idea of his innocence, but has gone on wilfully to deepen his apparent guilt and shield themselves—at his expense from their initial blunder. Madame Drey fus is absolutely certain that a thor ough reaction has sot in, and that thousands of honest French hearts are sharing her faith in her husband's in tegrity and honesty to his profession and country; but she perfectly agreed with me that it was not safe for friends to give expression to such sentiments. When one's movements and visitors are watched, and oue's correspondence closely inspected, can such conclu sions be wondered at? Madame Dreyfus is not one to make a display of her grief, but it has smit ten her hard, and all her natural bravery and self-command cannot keep her mouth from quivering and her tones from faltering when sho tells how the blow literally stunned her, and how for a long time sho could not actually realize the truth of it all. And the final interview be tween husband and wife! Concerning this Madame can only recall the bitter agony they both endured and her own imploring appeals to her husband to face the trouble and not sink underit; to trust to hov untiring endeavors to establish his guiltlessness before the world and restore him to their midst with unsullied honor. Madame Dreyfus cannot speak too strongly of the absolute honesty aud integrity of her husband—a man, she asserts, "who would not only never be capable of a mean action, but ut terly abhorred underhand tactics and shifty intrigue. Neither wealth nor advancement would have won him from the path of simple duly; and it is my implicit belief in and knowledge of all this which has given me courage to continue the unequal conteat, and assures me that God will eventually completely establish his iunocence. In two or three months I hope to have him with me again, for I am sure that when all the papers are examined at the court the truth will come to light." The devoted wife inspires me with her faith and courage, but I can only grasp her hand in silent sympathy and presently assure her that every Englishwoman is feeling for her in her great trouble, and each and all would rejoice to see her own hopes realized and Captain Dreyfus tri umphantly restored to his family. Do you want to know something ol Madame's appearance? Picture to yourself, then, a lady, tall, majestic, yet graceful, with a wealth of dark hair beautifully arrauged, a cleai complexion, large, expressive eyes, and a sweet though sad smile. A face that shows marks of suffering, but on which the predominant expressions are straightforwardness and kind ness. Emphatically, Lucie Dreyfus is a lady of great beauty.—Cassell'f Magazine. ROQUEFORT_CHEESE. Some of the Processes Connected With Its Manufacturo Explained. Roquefort cheese, the delight o) modern epicures, is made of a mixture of goat and sheep milk. The reputa tion of this cheese extends back into dim antiquity, and Pliuy mentioned it in his writings. It is made chiefly from the milk ol Larzad goats and sheep, and in the records of France it is stated that, in the year 1866, 250,000 sheep and goats out of a flock of -100,000 gave enough milk for tho making of 7,150,- 000 pounds of cheese. In the manufacture of Roquefort cheese the sheep and goats are milked iu the evening, after their re turn from the pastures, and after they have been allowed to rest for an hour or so. The evening's milk is heated almost to the boiling point, and then it is set aside. In the morning it is skimmed, heated to ninety-eight degrees and mixed with the morning's milk for coagulation. The curd is well kueaded with the hands and pressed iu layers into molds with perforated bottoms. A thin layer of moldy bread is jiut be tween each layer of curd. The object of this is to hasten the "ripening" of the cheese by supply ing the germs of the green mold pe culiar to cheese. The bread used for this purpose is made before the pre ceding Christmas of about equal parts cf summer and winter barley, with plenty of sour dough, and some vine gar. When moldy enough, it is ground and sifted, moistened with water, and kept from the air until used in mak ing the cheese. The curd remains in tho molds for three or four days. Then thoy are taken to the market iu Roquefort, where they are sold to tho different makers of Roquefort cheese. These manufacturers continue the ripening of the cheeses by placing them in the very damp caves which abound in the precipitous walls of the limestone hill which almost complete ly surround the village. The cheeses are left in tho caves sometimes more than a mouth, during which time salt and brino are rubbed into them, and they are pricked fre quently with long needles to let the salt penetrate into thorn and also to accelerate the process of moldering. Monkeys as Coin Testers. It is said that the great apes of Siam are in request among the Siamese merchants as cashiers iu their count ing houses. Vast quantities of base coius are kuowu to bo in circulation iu Siam, and, according to advices from that scorohed-up little oriental kingdom, no living human can dis criminate between the good and the bad coinage with as much accuracy as these apes. These monkey cashiers possess the faculty of distinguishing the rude Siamese counterfeits iu such an extraordinary degree that no trained banker can compete withthem in their unique avocation. Tln plying his trade the ape cashier meditatively puts each coin presented to him iu his mouth and tests it with grave de liberation. From two to five seconds is all the time this intelligent animal requires in making up his decision. If the coin is all right it is carefully deposited iu the proper receptacle; if base it is thrown violently to tho floor, while tho coin tester makes kuowu his displeasure at being presented with the counterfeit by giving veut to much angry chattering.—St, Louis Republic. Itni>i<l Triin.it For Mnll. An'extraordinary scheme has been mooted in India, uamely, one lor the construction of a pneumatic tube line 4400 miles in length, between Loudon and Bombay, for the transportation of mails. The thoory is that these could thus be conveyed from the city to city in twenty-four hours. The engineer ing difficulties include the great height of some of tho mountains to bo crossed iu Asia Minor aud the maintenance ol power-houses in remote places. This air-pipe project is still very much in the air.—Pall Mall Gazette. llow Hi- Dill It. A Sussex laborer who was giving evidence in a case of manslaughter, arising out of a quarrel of two com panions, one of whom had been killed by the other hitting him with his picknxe, gave the following lucid de scription of thejaet: "You see, he pecked he with a peek, and he pecked ho with a peek, aud il he'd pecked he with his peck as hard as he pecked he with his peck he'd 'a killed he instead o' he killiu' o' he."—London Chron icle. r ———^ | TALES OF PLDCK i m ADYENTDRE. | S®®®®®®®® 3XS®®® Adrift Twenty Terrible Days. I enn hardly think of it now without a shudder, those twenty terrible days adrift at sea with my three little chil dren, writes Mrs. Henry 11. McDonald. Added to the constant fear of drown ing was the torture of thirst, the chill of night and the scorch ing heat of a tropical sun by day. Then after all came the haunting fear that I should lose my reason, and in my madness cast my own babies into the mouths of sharks. My husband is a sea captain, and I had gone from Hobokeu, New Jer sey, to Port Blakeley, State of Wash ington, to join him on what promised to be a most delightful voyage. He had a splendid ship, the Star buck, and she was loaded with a cargo of lumber for Delagoa Bay, Soutn Africa. We started from Puget Sound on October 17, and the children and I were as comfortoble as on an Atlantic liner. But at 10 o'clock on the night of November 5 the cry of "Fire!" was started by the forwardlookout. Flames were shooting up from the forepeak. The cargo of lumber was alire. My husband aud his crew fought the fire with desperation, but it kept breaking out afresh ou every side. Iu four hours the big ship was ablaze from stem to stern. My husband then ordered the three boats to be made ready. They were loaded with provisions and casks of water. I aud the children and my husband were in the largest of the boats, but it was also the frailest. When the order came to lower away I gathered my children in my arms and felt thnt we were being dropped down to death. We pushed out into the black night aud watched our ship burn down to the water's edge. There were two other boats with us. One was in charge of the first mate, Charles McDonald, my hus band's cousin, and the other in com mand of Second Mate Howard. A line was passed from one boat to the other to keep them all together. The fourth day out the second mate cut his bont loose in hopes of getting on better alone. We never saw him after that and he was probably lost. On the twelfth day the first mate's boat capsized aud the cook was drowned. The rest of the mep we took in our boat, making fifteen iu all, which crowded us so that we could scarcely move. We had to throw overboard everything hut tho clothiug we wore and our canned food and water cask. . Theu our real sufferings began. Be fore thnt wo had had a pint of water u day apiece; now our allowance was cut down to half a pint. My children and I were huddled to gether toward the stern of the boat. The ship's carpenter had rigged up a little awning of blankets to shield us from the hot suu by day. But the waves would wash over us, and at night squalls came up, soaking every thing. I could have endured this well enough, but it was hard on tho poor little darlings. You see, my boy Howard is but seveu years old, my little girl, Maud, five years, while my baby, Gladys, is only nineteen months. As our water supply got lower and lower every iuc of us felt the parch ing fever coming ou. It raged like fire through our veius by day, aud at night kept us from sleep. But worse times were to come. The storms set in. Squalls burst upon us aud heavy gales rocked our little boat, and the angry seas poured into the little craft, wetting the blankets and all our clothing. Then the gales became more fre quent, and I felt sure we could not I reach laud in that leaky old boat. Tho allowance of water was down still 1 lower. We had plenty of hard bread and canned fruits and meats. I par took of nothing but the fruit. The short allowance of water made the situation serious, but the men be haved like heroes. They never trade a complaint, and took their turns bailing out the boat. But often when I had just tucked the ohildren in their blankets a sea would almost fill the boat and leave us wetter thau over. At length we saw laud. It was the twentieth day. My husband had promised to the mail who first saw the shore a big glass of water. He him self wou the reward. The laud we had made was Hook cna, and next day at noon we were ashore. The natives came outside the reef, and we were put into one of their boats and taken ashore. I stag ! gered like a drunken man. My limbs ■ refused to support me. Ifelljou my knees ou the sandy beach, with my little ones about me, and again thanked the All-Seeing One for our deliverance. We took passage from Honolulu to San Frauoiseo, where I am writing this. An Unnamed Ilero. Chaplain Cassard, of the Indiana, recently contributed a bit of unwrit ten history of the naval fight off San tiago when Cervera's fleet was smashed. It was just after the Maria Teresa had gone ashore on the rooks. She was on fire and flames were shoot ing from hero in every part. Dead and dying sailors were lying on her decks, the dying fearfully watching the flames and offering up prayerß for salvation. Thoae who had escaped had made their way to shore, some panting to liberty up the mountain side; others stook awaiting oapture by the American ships' crews then com ing to their succor. A boat load from the Indiana had put off and was the first to reach the shore after the Teresa had struck. Chaplain Cos sard was one of the rescuing party. The Teresa's sailors on shore, most of them naked, others with but a thin garment, gazed in fear at the Jackies, many expeoting to be killed. But they had come on an errand of mercy and soon made their missiqn known. In the midst of this carnage of war the Chaplain saw an American sailor put off toward the Teresa, two hun dred feet distant, in a small boat. Guns were then going off on the broken ship, shells were exploding in every direction, and through the rents in the vessel's side the dull glare of flames showed only too clearly the sailor's peril from the explosion of the Teresa's magazines. Yet he kept on, Up a dangling rope he went, hand over hand, and reached the deck. Those on shore saw him pull a re volver. Presently itj sharp crack was heard, and the sailor, oblivions to danger, walked along, shooting at reg ular intervals. "At tho risk of his life," Chaplain Cassard said, "this hero had gone aboard that Spanish vessel, knowing cattle were confined there with no possibility of escape. Thinking not of himself, knowing he might never come back alive, he went into that volcano of death that the poor brutes might not suffer. I saw the heads of the great oxen. They were stnuding with their backs to the fire, quivering with fear. I saw him going from one to another, shooting all. Thero he staid until the last dumb brute had been killed. Then, with the flames curling around him, the sides of the ship a red heat, he calmly went down the rope into his boat and came ashore, where he disappeared among the crowd of sailors. None of us sver found out this man's name. He is an unnamed hero, aud shows of what stuff tlje men of tho American navy are composed." Major Hazley's ltace For Lite. Major Hazley will never tiro "*l telling how he ran a neck-aud-neck race with death over a railroad trestle and came out by the skin of his teeth. The Major, an expert engineer, has charge of the construction of the new railroad bridge across Pearl ltiver, near Jackson, Miss. Tho Major, of course, knew tho train schedule, knew how long it would take him to cross the bridge. One morning, being anxious to reach the western shore of the river, he re solved to take a risk. An express train was almost due, but the Major felt that he could clear the trestle be fore the engine came in sight. He was in the middle of tho trestle when the express was seen rapidly ap proaching the bridge. At once the Major realized his position. lie waa face to face with death. If ho re mained on the bridge he would be run down. If he jumped iuto the river he would be killed by the fall. The Major turned and ran—ran literally for his life. But in great leaps the train gained upon him, so that presently ho could hear the whirr of the wheels as the monster bore down upon him. He had cleared the bridge, was only a short distance from the edge of the trestle, looked down, saw a sand bar, darted off the track, leaped headlong fifty feet aud fell plump, soft nud easy, into a bed of sand. Then the onlookers, pale with fright, saw the Major pick himself up and walk away—a little shaken, but uninjured. I-lko Robinson Crnsoe's ICxperienco. Jack Schmidt, a Skagway hermit, hunter and prospector, has had a ltobinson Crusoe experience that sel dom comes to mail in real life. Nine teen long days lie managed to exist on rocky Chilcat Island in Alaska, where he had been washed up by the terrible storms that so nearly destroyed the steamer Utopia. A few birds and a laud otter were his only provisions. He was rescued when half dead by the steamer City of Olympic, and on recovery became mate of the boat that saved him. Schmidt left Skag way November 17 in a Columbia River fishing boat bound for Juneau. He had made about twenty miles when a terrible gale occurred. His rudder was washed away and the wind swept him down o-n the shores of Chilcat Island. His boat was doomed, but Schmidt, who is an old-time seaman, was determined to save his life. As the waves took his boat over tho first reef, he jumped overboard, holding his rifle over his head. Swimming with it well out of tho water, he soon reaohed the shore. The boat was dashed to pieces against the rocks. Chilcat Island has always been deserted by the Indians, and game is scarce. He managod to shoot an eaglo on his second day on the isl and and ate it raw. His blanket washed on the beach, and he was able to protect himself slightly against the cold wind. For the remuiuiug seven teen days he lived on two sea gulls, four bluebirds, and a twenty-pound land otter, all of which fell victims to his rifle. Drutn Didn't Like the Sample. A wooden log saved the life of a young man named Kelly, who lives near Lackawaxen, Pike County, Peun. Kelly was returning from a visit to the homo of his sweetheart at Barry ville,afew miles distant,late on Sunday night, when ho was chased by a bear. A wooden leg impeded his progress, and the auimal soon overtook him. With one cuff of its paw Kelly wan sent sprawling. The bear pounced upon him and began chewing on the wooden leg, but after consuming half the leg, trousers and shoe, Bruin evidently became disgusted aud walked away. Kelly reached home nearly frozen, but thankful that his life was saved. CAPT. WHITFIELD'S WAIF ROMANCE OF A JAP LAD WHO BE CAME IMPORTANT IN THE ORIENT. rile Whaling Skipper Itctcueil the Hoy Castaway From Impemllnft Death en a ltock in the Pacific—Brought Him Home and Kducated Him. Marcellus P. Whitfieltl, of Fair haven, Mass., received a haudaotnely engraved invitation to be present at Hie recent reception given on board the netv Japanese cruiser Kasagi built by tho Cramps at Philadelphia. The invitation was from the offioers of the cruiser, and included Mr. Whitfield's whole family. Not knowing any one upon the Kasagi, the invitation was a mystery until the next day, when an explanation came in the form of a let ter from Keizaburo Nakahamn, Chief Paymaster of the ship. The writer stated that he was the third son of Manjiro Nakahama, of Tokio, Japan, who had been taken care of and edu cated by Mr. Whitfield's father, master of the ship John Howland, in 1841. "Under this circumstance," he says, "1 have been commissioned to find your address by my father, as I have been sent in official service, and to re port all about the Captain's family." It seems that Captain William H. Whitfield, master of ship John How land, of Fairhaven, while cruising in the Japan Sea in 1810 or 1811 sighted a bare rock in the midst of the sea and found five nearly starvod Japanese sailors clinging to it for dear life. They had been there something like seventy days, and all the food they had been able to get was such birds as they could knock down with clubs and stones. The Captain rescued them nnd carried them to Honolulu. The yonngest of them, a boy about fifteen years old, begged to bo allowed to re main aboard the ship, and the Captain finally consented. He was a bright boy, learned the language rapidly and soon became quite a favorite on board. By tho time the ship reached Fair haven Captain Whitfield was consid erably attached to tho boy, and deter mined to give him such an education as the town afforded. And in that decision Captain Whitfield conferred a far greater benefaction on Japan nnd tho whole ot civilization than he imagined. The boy was Nakahamn Manjiro, though he had received the American nickname "John Mun," or "John Mungero." He was put into the town schools, where he was an apt pupil, learning faster than many of the Yankee lads. His residence cov ered a period of about six years, but before he left tho town he had become a naturalized American citizen. There was always some prejudice against him, for he was looked upon as a col ored lad, and the color liuo was sharp ly drawn in those /lays. When he sought to attend church with Captain Whitfield, forjinstauco, he was refused permission till he went to the Unitar ian, and there he was taken in with something like equality, though not till a committee hud been appointed to look into tho question of his color and standing. In 1846 or 1847 he made a voyage whaling in the bark Franklin, and be came somewhat of a navigator. Then came the gold fever in California, and the young Jap-American sailed for San Francisco. But he remained in the mines only a few months. Be ing so far on his way to the land of his birth led him to long for one more look at the old life, and once more to visit his parents. But the law of Japan at that time placed a, death penalty on any native who had left his country and returned after visiting foreign lands. Still he determined to brave the consequences and boldly set sail, stopping at Honolulu, where ho was joined by four of his country men, two of them of the same party with him when rescued by Captain Whitfield. Nakahama's accomplishments caused him to be made a Samuri, or wearer or two swords. He translated Bow ditch's "Navigator," logaritthius and all, into his native language, and was of immediate service to his country as an interpreter in treaty making. He developed the navy, and Was the first native Japanese to navigates ship out of sight of laud in accordance with tho laws of navigation. He was stead ily advanced by royal order, and dur ing the Franco-Prussian war wis one of the seven commissioners sent by the Mikado to observe war move ments in Europe. Ho at this time bore the rank of Post Captain in the navy, an office high in the Admirality. At tho close of these hostilities, in 1870, Nakahama took tho opportunity to visit America, and he lost no time in calling on his old friends in New Bedford nud Fairhaven. He was warmly received, and one can imagine the feelings of Captain Whitfield as he grasped the hand of the Jupauese statesman whom he had saved, a poor sailor boy, from a sure death in the Pacific. Since his visit to this country noth ing has been heard from Nakahama. Now lje is an old man, retired and liv ing at ease onhisestato in Japan, with an honored and progressive family of Bons growing up around him. Captain Whitfield died several years ago, but the Japanese nobleman has not forgotten him or his family. Now that ono of his sons was to visit America, he was specially charged to look up the Captain's descendants, which he appears to have done with some success. The young paymaster sent with his letter to Mr. Whitfield several large photographs of members of his family, ono of the old man, one of an elder sou, who wears some sort of imperial decoration, and one of himself, also similarly decorated. A Paris reporter recently counted in one hour on the avenues twenty nfne antomobiles, fortj-two motorcy cles. and 162 bicycles.
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