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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.