]"* FORTUNE CAME KNOCKING, f
4 ►
2 The Prisoner's Story of a Mining Engineer in
M Old Montana, K
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"As a general thing a civil engineer
in the field gets more 'kicks than hap
penue, yet once or twice in a lifetime
fortune comes knocking at his door
as it did mine/' remarked the chief,
as he deftly extracted a live coal from
the campfirc, lit his pipe and settled
himself back on a heap of pine boughs,
with his back against a big log de
stined as a back log for the all-night
fire later on, while the rest of the crew
settled themselves in comfortable po
sitions and prepared to listen.
We had started the captain, which
was a rare event, for he was a taciturn
man, and had the Indian way of rare
ly speaking, except to give a direction
or answer a question, and then in the
briefest manner possible.
Slipper was over, the fried fish, bac
on and bread and coffee had been dis
posed of, and the last man having
spread his blankets, the younger of us
were having a quiet laugh at one of
the chainmen, who declared that he
had the night before gone to the little
stream which ran down the mountain,
a few yards from our camp, for a pail
of water about 1 o'clock and found
the stream dry, yet at 5 in the morn
ing when we started to get breakfast
It was rushing dwn the mountain side
as noisily as It had the night before
when he turned in. All the old gags
of "why don't you wake up before you
go for water!" "what brand do you
drink!" "where did you get it!" "do
you have those spells often!" etc., had
been sprung when the chief spoke as
above quoted.
He continued: "The way I made my
pile was by aid of just such a stream
as Jim says this one outside is, though
, there will be plenty of water in it to
night, judging from the sound of that
storm outside, and a wet day tomor
row, that will not let us move about
much, so if you care to listen, I'll give
you the story:
"It was at the close of 1868, when
most of you youngsters wore in short
pants and I had just completed my
survey of the territory of Montana and
was thinking of pulling stakes and
pushing on to a wilder and more un- j
settled country. For I thought it was
getting rather thick when they had j
four post offices in the state, and there
was nearly 60 at that time, besides
there was more than a dozen lawyers
In the territory, and I knew that there
was trouble for all the rest of us from
then on. I am here, yet I know, but
then there are few places now cov
ered by the old Stars and Stripes but
are more thickly populated, and I
fought too long under the flag to
change to a new one. The Indians
were pretty thick and rather nasty
that fall and, while I could generally
• get along with them, being called. 'Sil
ver that Runs' by them on account of
the flask of mercury I carrie d at times
for the artificial horizon, some of
which I presented the chiefs and medi
cine men, to be used as a prize when,
they were very sick. The results con
vinced them that I was very big medi
cine myself, and as I say, I could gen
erally get along with them, but the
safe rule with an Indian is never to
trust them this side of the happy hunt
ing grounds, and by the way, the same
rule may apply to most white men. I
had moved in close to Helena and oc
cupied myself with the small matters
of mining claim lines and locating
mill sites for the miners, making my
headquarters in Sioux Gulch with the
Horton boys, old friends of mine, who
had found, in the long run, that ranch
ing in that country was fully as profit
able as mining.
"One day 1 WAS accosted by three
Germans, who had a mine a few miles
up the gulch, called the 'Wild Horse
Mine.' They were in great trouble, for
banking on the continued widening of
the pay streak, they had invested the
best portion of their money in ma
chinery and had almost completed a
tunnel in the side of the mountain, to
tap the mine at a point some hundred
feet deeper than the shaft already
sunk, when the mine gave promise
of living up to its name, by suddenly
turning from a vertical vein to one
of 30 degrees downward and inward,
thus rendering a 400-foot tunnel al
most useless. Sadly they abandoned
the idea of a connecting tunnel to tap
the vein and commenced to follow
along the new direction, with the vein
constantly widening and giving prom
ise of richer ore and more abundant
metal day after day, until the chances
seemed to justify the expenditure for
machinery that had just been made.
But a few days before they had start
ed up the new Rteam drills, feeling
very proud, as they contrasted the
rapid strokes of the drill, which both
lightened their labor and enabled them
to excavate with fully 10 times the
speed of the old hand drills, when sud
denly one of the drills struck a stream
of water, which shot into the mine and
made things lively until they could
get it plugged, which was done after
a few minutes delay.
"Very soon they struck water again
and again, until at last it seemed as if
they could not stick a drill hole into
any of the rock about them without
finding water, which is the last thing
any miner wants to see in a mine.
Well, they got a pump after a \ast
deal of trouble, for pumps were few
and far between in this country in
those days, and let the water in
through one or two holes and tried to
control it. It did not seem to succeed
at first, but after two days they sud
denly got control of it and in a few
hours the water ceased to flow and
they put in a blast in a few hohes and
Mew out a section of rock and tben
fled for their lives, for in two minutes
after the blast was fired the water was
six feet deep in the mine and rising
fast. Tools, drills, pump and every
thing else was abandoned and in a
short time under water, which rose
until it was 10 feet deep, and after
three days dropped to six feet, and
after a few hours began to rise again
slowly until 10 feet was reached, which
continued with regularity for some
days; first 10 feet of water, then six
feet, then 10 again. They bdrowed a
couple of pumps and rescued their
own at low water and started them
all and pumped until patience and fuel
gave out. No use, still that deadly
rise and fall continued.
"Tho 'Wild Horse Mine' and its
owners became a busted outfit Tho
bottom was out of the mine and the
owners' pockets, for while they had
S6OOO worth of machinery, which, with
the freight overland, had cost them
SIO,OOO, they had no mine and there
was no immediate call for water works
in that section just at that time. So
they came to me with the proposal
that if I would control the water they
would give me a quarter interest in
the mine. At first I refused, for I con
sidered the stock too well watered to
be of much use to any one but a stock
broker or eastern tenderfoot, but at
the intercession of the Horton boys,
who gave the Dutchmen credit for be
ing good, hard-working fellows, who
would be ruined completely unless 1
cculd find away to help them out, I
consented to walk over to their hole
in the ground and take a look at the
rather curious feature of a mine that
had a tide which rose and fell once
;n three days, with a mean variation
o.' four feet, and as low water was to
occur that day I started and slowly
walked over with the Hortons and the
Dutchmen.
"As we approached the mouth of the
mine, I noticed a dozen or two yards
from the mouth of the shaft, a fine
mountain rill tumbling over the rocks
with a fall of about 25 feet. It was
about four feet across and a foot or
13 inches deep, and after admiring the
fall a few moments I asked Jake, one
of my would-be German partners, why
they had not put up a wheel and used
the water power to run their ore
crusher, instead of the more costly
steam engine."
" 'Won't do,' he replied, 'it will stop
pretty soon and won't run again for
three days.' I stared at him with
amazement.
"What!" I exclaimed, "not run for
three days?"
" 'Yes,' said he, indifferently, 'it will
stop by 3 o'clock this afternoon.' I
said nothing more, but determined to
bo on hand when it stopped and try
and find out why it stopped. 1 exam
ined the mine and found things about,
as I have already outlined them, and
casually asked Hans, another at the
Germans, when ho expected the tide
to'commence to rise again, when I
was astonished to hear him say 'about
3 o'clock and then the water comes
up about three days, then goes down
again in one day.' I examined the
tunnel and by aid of my pocket com
pass determined its general direction
with reference to the mine and the
stream, and with my pocket rule in
lieu of a transit made a rough calcu
lation, which I kept to myself, sat
down to dinner, after which I spent
an hour or more in examining the last
ore taken from the mine.
"About 2 p. m. I climbed the rock
to the brink of the waterfall and found
the hole In tho rocks through which
the stream came, a few feet back of
where It took its plunge. All there
was to bo seen in that direction was a
hole the size of a man's body, yet while
I looked the water, which for some
few minutes had appeared to be rapid
ly getting lower, stopped with a low
rumbling sound. The show was over.
I turned on my heel and led the anx
ious Germans back to tho office, and
in 15 minutes became the owner of a
one-fourth interest in the 'Wild Horse
Aline,' for the usual sum of a dollar,
etc., with the condition that I was to
have sole control of the mine for one
year and that my partners were to
take up work at once on the aband
oned tunnel and run it not exceeding
IOC feet in any direction I named.
Work on the tunnel commenced the
next day at an angle of GO degrees to
tho right of the former line toward
the stream, but 50 feet below the head
of the fall, and 10 days afterward I
was awakened one morning with the
news from' those disgusted Germans
that they had struck water in the tun
nel and could go no further. I think
at that moment that I could have
bought the rest of the 'Wild Horse
Mine' for another slollar.
" 'Good,' said I, and put on my hat.
'Good,' grunted Jake; 'bad, bad! I
tink dot mountains vas vhat you call
one sponge, ain't It?' and with the
three walking dejectedly at my heels
we set out for the tunnel. A nice two
inch stream of water was spurting
from the face of the rock. To make
a long story short, I plugged that hole,
loaded it with 30 pounds of powder,
put In a time fuse, had the tools taken
from the tunnel, lighted the fuse and
took to my heels. A minute later a
muffled explosion shook the earth and
a yellow stream of dirty water, the full
size of the tunnel, shot from its mouth.
1 looked at the waterfall. It was
stopped. I sent Jake down the shaft
to see if the water was rising or fall
ing and he came back with a face like
a full moon, with the information that
the water was running out as quick
as 'nefer was." By 6 p. m. that night
there was not a drop of water In the
'Wild Horse mine, 1 and but a email
stream flowing from the tunnel.
"The next morning we blew out the
heading of the shaft and found our
selves in a rock chamber 20 by 80 feet,
which was the natural reservoir that
had caused all the troubleforthemine;
had furnished the little waterfall with
water and myself with a comfortable
fortune which is safely invested in
I'nitcd States bonds, from which I
carefully cut the coupons every six
months. What had happened? Was
thi3 the passage from the reservoir to
the outlet above? The fall was simply
a natural syphon, which once started
drew out the water until it was low
enough to let air into the long end
of the tube; when It stopped and took
two or more days to fill up and the op
eration was repeated. When my Ger
man partners punched holes in the
rock, they simply added so much space
to the reservoir, causing It to take
longer to fill and therefore the time
was extended to three days.
"I, having settled the proposition
in my own mind, found the abandoned
tunnel running in the right direction
and far enough below the floor of the
cave to drain it comfortably and quick
ly. When we got rid of the water we
simply traced the vein on the oppo
site wall of the cave and went on tak
ing it out." Now one word, readers,
don't laugh when a man tells you a
curious story. Don't be ashamed to
ask questions. All sucessful men are
noted for asking questions and are
good listeners when others talk. And
last but not least, never be too old or
know too much to let some one else
tell you a new wrinkle about your
trade.—Sing Sing Star of Hope.
CUAINT AND CURIOUS.
Three ancient Roman weights were
recently found at Rome. They were of
green marble, with bronze handles, and
prove that the Roman pound was equal
to three-quarters of a pound avoirdu
pois.
In Rotomahona, New Zealand, there
is an immense geyser which covers an
area an acre in extent, and constantly
throws columns of water to vast
heights, some of them ascending three
hundred feet, with clouds of steam
which go much higher.
Imagine, if you can, a live-stock
train 16 7-8 miles long—numbering 2,-
3f'7 cars and containing 34,785 head of
cattle, 38,456 hogs and 22,234 sheep,
and you will have some idea of the
record breaking day for receipts at the
Union Stock Yards, Chicago, on Wed
nesday, July 24, 1901. It was the big
est day ever known in the history of
this big live-stock mart.
The old custom of giving a purse to
the bride at a wedding Is still observed
in an odd fashion in parts of Cumber
land, England. The bridegroom pro
vides himself with a number of gold
and silver pieces, and, at the words,
"With all my worldly goods I thee en
dow." hands the clergyman his fee
and pours the other coins into a hand
kerchief held by the bride. In other
places the bride asks her husband for
a gift of money or property on the day
after the wedding, and this request he
is bound in honor to grant.
Wood is to be the newest food, says
Heinrlch Reh, a professor of chemis
try in Berlin. He has secured a pat
ent upon a form of animal fodder
which has sawdust as its chief ingre
dient. He argues that animals have a
decided liking for young shoots, roots
of shrubs, tree bark and other heavy
food of the same nature, and, since
experiments have proved that the nu
triment contained in such growth re
mains in ii even after it has become
wood, he observes that, with a little
salt and water added to it, the saw
dust will prove to be a highly nour
ishing diet.
The other day as D. C. Misner was
passing the Dillsboro (Ind.) Bank he
saw upon the sidewalk what he
thought was a snake about a yard in
length and of a peculiar color. He
struck at the supposed reptile with his
walking stick, and was surprised when
the "snake" parted in twain. Upon ex
amination it was ascertained that the
peculiar-looking object was made up
of myriads of small, wiry worms, each
about an inch in length. The mass
was formed exactly like a snake and
was moving along about as rapidly as
a snail. I.ater in the day Mrs. Sarah
Ketcham, residing north of the town,
found a similar mass of wriggling
worms in her dooryard.
Tlie Stormy Petrel.
The petrel is usually named the
stormy petrel. The bird is, under the
name of Mother Carey's chicken, the
terror of the sailor, who always con
siders the bird as the precursor of
a storm. It is the smallest of the web
footed birds. Few storms are violent
enough to keep the wipged creature
from wandering over the waves in
search of the food that the disturbed
water casts to the surface. Dike the
fulmar, the petrel is so exceedingly
oily in texture that the inhabitants
of the Feroe Islands draw a wick
wick through its body and use it as
a lamp.
"I think," said the historical novel
ist, "that I shall not put any history
into my book."
"Oh, Percival," his wife said, "I was
so in hopes that you would make your
next book diflcrent from your others."
—Chicago Record-Herald.
When a man finds himself in a hole
he must expect Bis friends to look
down on mm.
HIAWATHA IN OJIBWAY.
AN INDIAN FLAY ACTED BY INDIAN
CHARACTERS.
Uniqun Alfresco Perfnniinnce t IXe.bn
rut*, Out. Mint I'roduccd to Enteriuin
Poet Longfellow'* Daughter*—Revival
of Keriiueu'* Ancient Art* and Custom*.
Wholly apart from the spectacular
attractiveness of the play, there is a
significance in the performance of
the Ojibway Indian drama "Hia
watha," presented daily at Hiawa
tha Camp, Desbarats, Ont., which ren
ders it worthy the interested attention
of all who view the Indian as a ro
mantic figure or systematically con
cern themselves as to his welfare,
writes Wm. E. Brigham in the Boston
Transcript. Of all American Indians,
only the Ojibway is increasing in num
bers, yet his contact with the white
man has cost him his nationality and
his dominion, which formerly included
the lands as far east as the Gulf of St.
Lawrence and Western Massachusetts.
His ancestral home, however, was the
country about Lakes Superior and Hu
ron, where the tribe concentrated early
before the abvancing whites. At pres
ent most of the Ojibways live on the
Canadian side of the lakes. The tribe
has attained a considerable degree of
civilization and the Ojibways doubt
less are the best types of the aborig
inal American in existence. A peace
loving folk, their family relations are
singularly pure, most of them are de
vout Christians and, in a word, they
utterly belie the commonly accepted
eetimate of the Indian as a petty thief
and a loafer. Unfortunately for ro
mance, however, the Ojibway learned
the arts of the white man at the ex
pense of many of his own, and it is a
gratifying fact that the presentation
of the Indian play, under its peculiarly
happy auspices, is destined to revive
among the Indians a knowledge of
their own ancient customs, ceremoni
lls, arts and style of dress, which stood
in grave danger of passing away for
ever.
The idea of the play originated with
L. O. Armstrong of Montreal, for more
than 20 years a professional explorer
—if the term be permissible—who had
built a neat summer house on one of
the Desbarats group of islands in Lake
Huron, which for centuries have been
the summer playground of the Ojib
ways. Mr. Armstrong, himself an ar
dent admirer of Longfellow's poem,
was delighted to find that the Indians
were familiar with it. Sympathizing
with the desire of their leading men to
preserve their traditions, he suggest
ed that they should be embodied in a
dramatic representation of the chief
episodes in the career of Hiawatha.
The Ojibways toon to the idea with
enthusiasm, and, under Mr. Arm
strong's direction, they made their first
attempt at a national drama, when
the three daughters of Longfellow vis
ited Desbarats, the nearest village to
the tribe's playground, in 1900.
When this memorable journey was
made, the visitors were treated to a
spectacle which, as Miss Alice M.
Longfellow afterward wrote, "possess
ed an indescribable charm." The pres
entation was exceedingly crude, from
the present-day point of view, never
theless its very simplicity and the
manifest seriousness of the Indians
charmed the guests exceedingly and
Miss Longfellow described the play
as "a most unique and interesting
drama of the forest, with the broad
stretch of lake in front and the for
est trees closing in on the scene."
The interest aroused was so great that
other representations followed ,as a
mater of course, until the performance
of the national drama became an an
nual fixtures at Desbarats, and per
formances are now given daily from
July 10 or 15 to Sept. 1, and a com
fortable hotel and picturesque tepees
afford ample accommodations for vis
itors.
The reapon for the crudity of the
original performance is worth noting.
Most of them, as a matter of fact, had
forgotten what the ancient garb of
the tribe was, and such of the older
generation aB remembered lacked
either the materials or the skill to
make the proper costumes. As the
Zunis excel in pottery and the Nava
hoes in blankets, so the ancient Ojlb
ways were masters of that most beau
tiful of aboriginal arts, bead and por
cupine quill work, yet these Indians
from the Garden River reservation
(near Sault Ste. Marie) had not the
slightest idea of artistic embroidery.
Their leggins and moccasins were, in
many cases, destitute of any but the
most commonplace ornamentation,
and their general appearance was far
removed from that of the gorgeous
personages of their tribal history and
the Longfellow epic.
The indefatigable Armstrong, now
heartily in love with the project, vis
ited the Smithsonial institute at Wash
ington and reurned with drawings,
photographs and object-lessons which,
to make a long story short, have been
the means of restoring to the Ojibway
the imposing dress in which his ances
tors made love and war, hunted and
danced. The drama is now "staged"
upon a small island just out from a
natural amphitheatre on the mainland
at Kensington Point—or Hiawatha
Camp, as It has been rechristened—
and it is "costumed" with the greatest
skill and with absolute fidelity to
originals.
It is apaprent that the national pride
of the OJibways has been greatly stim
ulated by the attention their perform
ances have attracted, and they enter
Into them with much of the reverent
spirit attendant upon the presenta
tion of the Passion Play. Visitors
are quick to note the analogy between
the two dramas and frequent refer
ence is made by them to Desbarats as
The American Oberammergau."
A drum, used in the drama was once
the property of Shingwauk, the most
remarkable Ojibway of his time, and
saw service at Queenstown Heights in j
the War of 1812.
Hiawatha of the poem is the Hia
watha of the play, and it needs only
a reasonable familiarity with the
poem to follow the action of the play
understandingly, even though it is
given in the Ojibway tongue. The
scene is an island fronting a natural
amphitheatre on the mainland. On
the right of the stage, from the log
seats of the spectators, is the tepee of
Nokomis. On the left, across a chort
stretch of water, rises the point of a
high cliff, thick with trees, and a little
further to the left the hill which ter
minates at the cliff also forms a water
shed down which the Falls of Minne
haha dash in a green and white spray.
This representation is finely done in
oil by Francis West, and is the only de
parture from nature in the whole set
ting. At the left again, beside the
falls, the Ancient Arrow Maker and
his fair daughter Minnehaha sit at the
entrance of their tepee. Across Lake
Huron about half a mile, looking di
rectly over the open stage, is the gap
between Campment D'Ours and Cop
per Islands, with SL Joseph's Island
in the distance. At the right, a mile
or more away, the main ship channel
runs through the Devil's Gap—a re
duced counterpart of the Palisades of
the Hudson. Directly west of the
stage, half a mile distant, are two min
iature islands. That with the two
trees sticking up is Woman's Face. If
were a waste of words to comment up
on the exquisite beauty of such a
scene.
A column of smoke arising from
the peak of the cliff is a signal Are
lighted by the Great Spirit to call all
the nations that they may smoke to
gether the pipe of peace, the Pukwana.
Brave in feathers, robes and weapons
the warriors assemble; some in can
oes, some rushing down over the hill
from the forest, some picking their
way along the margin of the lake.
They glare at each other with looks
of hatred—your average Ojibway is
a good simulator—and strike at each
other with their tomahawks. Sudden
ly the voice of the (Jreat Spirit is
heard lamenting the quarrels of his
people; and, moved by a common im
pulse, the warriors rush to the watei's
edge, throw down their garments of
dearskln and their weapons, and, dash
ing into the water, wash off the war
paint. Sitting in a circle, "Indian
fashion," then they smoke the pipe of
peace.
The wedding feast is made the very
appropriate excuse for the introduc
tion of a series of dances and songs
in which steps and melodies which
have echoed through the great north
ern forest for uncounted generations
are reproduced.
The insult to old Nokomis and Min
nehaha by Pau-Puk-Keewis, in the ab
sence of Hiawatha and the braves, and
their angry pursuit of him now con
stitute the most thrilling details of the
play.
Omitting mention of several other
noteworthy incidents, which there is
not spaco to describe, the drama is
ended with the mystical departure of
Hiawatha.
"Realistic" Is a word inadequate to
describe the effect of this remarkable
scone. It was the real thing which the
spectators of the Indian drama at Des
barats witnessed and the picture will
remain in their minds until the magic
spell of the poem shall have been
broken. As a bar of purple anil bold
en sunshine sparkled westward across
the lake from the island of the Wom
an's Face to the ledge of the Indian
prophet, Hiawatha came forth and
raising his hands to the blue sky above
him, chanted to his people his sad
farewell. The refrain was caught up
and repeated by the sorrowful men and
women, and a wave of melody floated
across the waters as tender, as sol
emn, as thrilling as the noblest song
of Wagner. It lifted this wonderful
performance above the plane of a mere
exhibition and made it an event. With
the majestic stride of a chieftain, Hia
watha placed himself at the shore and
with hands uplifted, touching neither
paddle nor canoe, and voice chant
ing the meloncholy farewell, the In
dian actor passed slowly from view
until when he had become only a
speck in the splendid path over which
he glided.
He disappeared wholly at last in the
shadow of the Woman's Face. There
could be no finer piece of stagecraft
Trouble in Selling Safe*.
A young salesman of one of the big
safe-manufacturing companies who
was telling his troubles to his room
mate the other evening, said among
other things that the increasing
number of modern skyscrapers was
injuring the safe-makers' business in
this city.
"The average firm that supports a
big suite of offices in any of the new
buildings," said he, "wants a roomy,
fire and burglar-proof safe, that nec
essarily weighs some pounds. Well,
you sell your safe and send it down.
Then the janitor says that he hasn't
an elevator in the place to lift it. The
superintendent upholds him, and we
have to make a contract with a wreck
ing firm to lay a block and tackle and
swing the thing up on the outside and
through the window. That costs mon
ey, and eats up profits. The refusals
to admit heavy safes on elevators is
growing more common with each new
building." —New York Commercial
Advertiser.
Farmer —What do you mean, you
young rascal, up there in my apple
tree?
The Young Rascal—The apples on
the ground are all wormy.—Boston
Transcript.
I/IAN IN THE IRuN MASK.
An Ancient Cemetery In Parle Hie Ba#*
poeed KUTIHI Place.
One of the old houses of Paris, sit
uate at 17 Rue Beautrellls, is about to
disappear, and the place thereof will
know it no more. It has been handed
over to workmen who will demolish it
to make room for a workshop. Rue
Beautrellls is an ancient and
street which the omnibuses do not vj
penetrate, remnant of the times when
the Place des Voges was the Place
Royal and the home of beaux, "pe
ruked," and red-headed. In the gar
den of the doomed house, famous in
times past as the residence of dis
tinguished persons, is a grave wheb
local tracton says is the resting piace
of that mysterious figure in history—
the Man with the Iron Mask. One re
members that this remarkable person
died in the Bastile in 1703, and the lo
cal register says he was buried in the
parish of St. Paul. Now, this garden
undoubtedly forms a part of. the
ancient cemetery of St. Paul and the
church itself is near at hand, set
in the midst of a cluster of old houses.
It is in the garden that the famous
Iron Mask is said to have been hur
ried, and the spot is the Mecca k
of daily pilgrimages. Outwardly, *W
the place is unlovely enough, rag
ged and uncultivated. A few
poor, bedraggled Cowers try to
live on, cut off from the sunshine
by the overtopping houses, and pre
maturely faded by the smoke from a
neighboring wash house, out of sheer
respect for a great name. In a cor
ner, where are the decayed trunks of
some acacias and where a pool of
stagnant water gives an additional as
pect of melancholy, is the reputed
grave of the Iron Mask. The old at
tendant will tell you that the water
does not run away because there is a
vault beneath covered over with a
thick bed of cement. In tho middle
of the "Old Paris" society which
passage which leads by gentle de
scent direct to the grave of burial. The
question which is agitating tho minds .
of the "Old Paris" society which
watches over these matters is wheth- '
er the bones of this fascinating figure
of a fbrmer century are really there.
This will De settled perhaps, when the
tomb is opened. Will the strange in
strument that he wore for so many
years be round rust-eaten, among the
remains? Actually there is on the
grave a column which bears an in
scription, cut with a knife, "Here lies
Marchiali, the Man with the Iron
Mask." It would appear that the in
scription was copied from a stone,
which was formerly in place there.
The ancient cemetery of St. Paul is
now almost built over. Here, how
ever, if one may again believe the tra
dition of the quarters have lain the
ashes of Rabelais of Mansard, the
architect, who built the Bank of
France, and the hotel, now the Musee,
Carnavalet, of Moliere and his spouse, ,
Armande Bejart,—Paris Correspon
dence Pall Mall Gazette. k
Tim Co.t of Clothe*.
The expense of wearing good clothes
In this country is quite equally propor
tioned between men in public lite and
ordinary civilians. It may cost some
officials more to dress themselves be
comingly in accordance with their po
sitions, but as a rule extravagance
along this line is left to men of wealth
who exert a wider influence in society
than in public affairs. An every-day
business suit, cut to fashion and made
of material which meets the fancy of
men with established tastes, costs all
the way from S4O to SBO, the prevailing
figure being near the SSO mark. The
Prince of Wales, however, with al
most $500,000 a year, contents himself
with a S4O suit, refusing to go higher.
The extras that go with every complete
wardrobe cost as much as their own
ers care to invest. The expenditure de- %
pends entirely upon the state of a
man's poeketbook and his tastes. Dress
suits cost from $75 to $125 each, while
the numerous accompanying incident
als are graded to suit each individual
case, says the Chicago Tribune.
The ordinary civilian of this country
spends more money for clothes than
his English brother. But among men w
in official life the Englishman easily
outpoints the American.
Auction* in I'nrlft.
Auctions in Paris are conducted In
a much more satisfactory manner
than in America. At the Hotel Drouot,
perhaps the most famous auction
rooms of Paris, one of the chief
functionaries is an expert who values
the several articles offered for sale.
He does not attempt to place an exag
gerated value upon the several articles, ■
but, on the other hand, endeavors to
give a fair and accurate idea of their -'# 1
intrinsic worth.
Of course, to do this, it is neces
sary that he should point out the de
tects in the articles offered, and this
he does very frankly and accurately.
An unprejudiced observer, writing
in regard to a recent sale of a collec- i
tion of antique wrought iron work, J
states that the professional expert in *
attendance gave estimates on the whole *fl
wonderfuuy near the mark. Occasion
ally his estimate would be higher than
the price the article brought, but in j
many more instances his price was
lower, especially when there was any
competition to run the price np. Any
one who has heard the absurd values
placed on trash in American auction ,Bj
rooms would, indeed, be astonished to ,1 V
find goods selling for more than the J| 1
official valuation. ' 1
Addenda.
She—O! no, I admit, you can't be
lieve one-half the things you hear.
He—No, nor one-third, even.
She—l guess that's so.
He—But you can usually repeat
licur-thirds, can't you?— Philadelphia
Frees.