OLD WHARVES.
BT iBTIIDB WEHTWORTH EATON.
Not BO many years ago, Proud old wharves, so silent now,
On the tides that shoreward swept, Haughtier in your grim decay
Merchant vessels, swift or alow. Than in days when many a prow
To the harbor leapt or crept; {Sought you from the lower bay,
From the fertile Indian isles Symbols of dead dreams are ye,
, In hot southern seas they came, Symbols of the empty piers
Over ocean's endless miles. Where our minds so buoyantly
With red sunset fires atiame. Anchored in the childish years.
Fruited cargoes here they brought, Yet the barren tides that creep
Guava, ginger, fig or prune. Up the harbor night and morn,
Rice, and spice, and rare birds caught Plunge and flash and laugh and leap
In the Bluggiah tropic noon. Round your bases, old and worn.
These old wharves re-echoed then Nothing of real sadness bear,
All the sounds of seaport trade, For our ships have found 6ince then
Pulleys plied by strong-armed men, Wider wharves, in harbors where
Noisy anchors cast and weighed; They may come and come again;
Crashing, carrying, cheering loud, Till Time's petty traffic past.
Wild discordant bawl ana brawl, All the bawl and brawl and strife,
Black and white, a motley crowd! We are satisfied at last
Ah, but how we loved it alh , With the wealth of endless life.
—Youth's Companion.
I THE BOSS TRICKSTER. 1
%
IT Tins a very dusty, disreputable
pink uose that pushed opeu the
hack gate of No. 11 Templeton
flats, aud It was followed by a
Ibabby canine body that bud once been
white, but was at preseut a dingy
Srab, the result of Infrequent bathing.
The apparition dodged, evidently ex
pecting a brick or billet of wood for a
(veleonie, instead of which a soft ju
venile voice said encouragingly:
"Come in, old fellow; don't be afraid,
there isn't anybody here hut me."
And "old fellow" wiggled along,
Showing gladness and gratitude in
every motion, and made his way to a
■mall hoy seated on a box in one corner
of the yard, engaged In tixing some
tort of a mechanical toy. The dog
wagged his abbreviated tall In an at
tempt to be fond, and at the same
time exhibited a row of dazzling white
teeth in an undershot jaw, and he
looked very tough, but little Mark
Roberts was not the least bit afraid.
Be patted the stray dog's head, called
him "old fellow," and then bethought
him thnt It would only he kind to give
him something to eat. So the next
thing the cook in the Roberts family
aaw was Master Mark, In white blouse
and laee collar, entering her spotless
kitchen with a down-at-the-hcel bull
dog that was from all appearances at
outs with the world.
"Law-n-massy, yo' drcfful boy, wha'
yo' mudder say an' yo' fadder when
day see dat dog?"
She gathered her skirts about her
prepared to run, but Mark's pleading
arms were about her fat waist and she
dropped In a heap and gathered hint
lnte the fold of her sheltering arms,
while the dog waited at a respectful
distance snuffing the odor of a roast
cooking in the oven. I
"He's awful hungry, Cindy, and I
think he's lost. Maybe If you wash
him mamma will let me keep him. i
I've wanted a real live dog all my
life, Cindy."
"Bress de chile, he talks es ef he was i
es ole es Methuselem," Cindy cried, i
and straightway she began a rum- i
mage for hones and odds and ends left I
from the table, and these were carried i
outside and made a flue feast for the I
starved stranger. But what to do i
with him next? If only Cindy were to '
be propitiated that were an easy vie- l
tory, hut Mark's mother hated dogs. 1
Bhe often said so, and believed it her- 1
self. Mr. Roberts was totally unac- <
qualified with the canine type, was al- l
ways spotlessly dressed, and while 1
not especially disliking the animaK i
panted tliem to keep a respectful dis
tance. He had fears, too, of hydro- 1
phobia, and like other ignorant per- I
sons believed that the bite of a dog 1
was fatal whether the animal had !
rabies or not.
Against these objections what could
Mark do? What he did was to keep i
the dog secreted on the premises until i
bo had been groomed into the sem- i
blance of a fine kennel-bred sport with t
1 milk-white coat and a sleek head, i
showing off pink serrated ears, and
an expression of ooiintejianee so en- t
trnnoingly ferocious that milkmen and
grocers' boys delivered their goods to
Cindy at the gate. And just at this
time Cindy advised Mark to let his
father and mother see his treasure, for
She feared consequences If they found
out that she was harboring the in
truder and was as deep in the con
spiracy as the boy himself.
So this was what Mr. and Mrs. Rob
erts saw when tliey bad dined one
evening and expected to spend an hour
listening to Mark's account of the day's
doings. He had been vague and un
satisfactory lately at this post-pran
dial hour, sometimes unduly excited,
and again unnaturally quiet. Cindy
had given him a blue ribbon—it hail
been washed and ironed—and leading
his acquisition by this tether ho
marched into the parlor, and neither
of them saw the auintal until it stood
before them regarding them with can
ine curiosity. Mrs. Roberts climbed
on a chair and screamed. Mr. Roberts
said sharply, "Take that brute away,"
and then Mark made his plea.
"He's just lovely, papa; plays with
me all tlie time and doesn't never get
cross. Cindy can tell you—Cindy,
come here!"
"1 deelar ter goodness. Mis Roberts,
dat chile am so poscst ter liev a dawg
I'se scared ter hear him go on. An'
dat ar Is amity nice kind; he got nios
cs much sense es I hes inyseff, an' he
dOan nevali bark, jest fit ter play wif
cfililuns."
"How long has been here?" asked
Mrs. Roberts as she stepped down to
earth again.
"Ise uavrH't exackly say, but he's
doue 'customed to de place, an' 1
reckon feels at home, an' dat chile jes
too happy for ennyting waltzln' roun'
wif him foh company all day."
Mark had his arm around the brute's
neck and was rubbing his own smooth
check against the blunt head, the dog
accepting his caresses with such evi
dent appreciation that Mr. Roberts,
after watching them a moment, said:
"I haven't any use for a dog, but 11
the boy wants this one to play with
I have no objection. But keep him
away from me."
"He's to stay in the yard, remember
that, Cindy," said Mrs. Roberts, sharp
ly. "I suppose Mark could be fur
nished with a better companion, hut
lje'll get tired of him, or the dog will
run away. I wish his owner would
find him."
If they had read the lost and found
notices In the papers they would have
seen n startling advertisement anent
tills same dog with a reward of three
figures offered for his safe return. But
they did not, and Mark and Cindy
could not read, and they might have
kept it to themselves In any event,
as they did the dog.
Time passed and the father and
mother did not get over their objection
to Mark's playmate, which indeed they
seldom saw, being much out in so
ciety, at which time the child was
supposed to be sleeping in his little
bed. So in truth he was, and often
"old fellow," the only name he had,
was curled up on the foot of the bed
after a romp through every room up
stairs with Ciudy lu attendance. And
lie was there one night when the
family came home late from the the
atre, hut with a cunning dissimulation
he had jumped down and hidden, aud
they did not sec him when they looked
in on the sleeping boy.
In the eurly morning hours Mr. and
Mrs. Roberts were awakened from a
sound slumber by a fearful crash, and
simultaneously with the sound the
white bulldog hurled itself through
the transom of their door, carrying
the frame with it, as It lauded In the
middle of the room. They had ouly
time for one horrible thought, that the
animal had gone mad—when they saw
ilame and smoke rushing in and knew
they were saved from death. The flat
was on fire—there was time for the
family to be saved, all the rest was
lost. And it was found later from
light scratches on Mark's face that the
dog had tried to awaken liim, but
failed, and then performed a feat that
was almost superhuman and denoted
an intelligence of the keenest fibre.
When they were settled in a new
homo "old fellow" was the hero of the
hour. A silver collar graced his ath
letic neck and his story was told In
print. Mrs. Roberts gave him the
privilege of the drawing-room, but
Mark and Cindy were reserved for his
special friends, and sometimes he
seemed a little tired of them. He
drooped ami they sent for a veterinary
surgeon, who could find nothing defi
nite the matter, but concluded lie linfl
Inhaled smoke the night of his life
saving feat. But the hurt was deeper
than that, as they soon learned.
They were walking in the park and
sat down to rest, Mark and "old fel
low" making a striking picture and at
tracting attention as usual. Then oc
curred a tableau more striking. The
dog saw a man at a little distance, ran
toward hint, leaped on his shoulders
and almost bore him to the ground by
the violence of his caresses. He had
found his own.
"Why, lie's the boss trickster of the
Albion Club's kennels," said tlie man.
"Ili. Oldfellow, jump for the gentle
man!"
Aud obedient to orders the dog per
formed the trick which had made him
a life-saver and proved tlie man's
ownership. And now he had less use
for the Roberts family tlian they had
for him. He turned tail on the whole
bunch and went off witli his trainer
with acute satisfaction, leaving Mark
gazing after him wistfully and sny
ing:
"And just to think I called him 'old
fellow, and it was his very own
name."—Chicago Record-Herald.
Only Indian Newspaper Suspended.
The Cherokee Advocate, the only
paper ever printed in an Indian tongue,
is about to suspend publication, owing
to changes in the goverument of the
five tribes. The Cherokee is the ouly
tribe having a written language. It
was Invented by Sequoyah, a Chero
kee, In ISfiC.
The Royal Colonies were: New
Hampshire, New York, New Jersey,
Virginia, North Carolina, South Caro
lina and Georgia.
"Pluck smel © ©
© © /\dvent\ire.
Some Narrow Escape*.
THERE are few well-known
people in the world whose
lives have not contained at
least one incident that they
will remember to the last day of their
lives.
The experience may have lasted a
day. an hour or but a moment, yet it
impressed itself indelibly upon their
minds.
Rider Haggard, says the Philadel
phia Press, is now leading as peaceful
and unroinantic a life as the mildest
minded man could wish to. Yet he can
tell two stories of thrilling adventures
that are as curdling as some of the
tales he publishes.
The one incident of his life with
which he connects his narrowest es
cape from death happened in South
Africa, over a quarter of a century
ago.
Haggard was master of the Trans
vaal High Court, and in this capacity
he was sent 011 a mission to a distant
mountainous district which was thick
ly infested with mutinous and blood
thirsty natives.
Before he started on his journey he
was informed that he would be way
laid and killed.
There were two roads by which he
might travel to his destination, and
by good luck lie chanced to choose the
way of safety.
On the other road a band of natives
was lying in wait for him, resolved to
torture and kill liis entire party.
The suspense of that night journey,
when at any turning he might meet
death face to face, can scarcely be pic
tured, but Mr. Haggard recalls every
moment of it with a reminiscent shud
der.
Mary Anderson, now Mme. Navarro,
can recall a terrible episode of her
early childhood in Kentucky, which,
by almost a miracle, just escaped being
a tragedy.
One night, during her father's ab
sence from borne, two burglars, who
had already committed several mur
ders, broke into the house and, seizing
the child, threatened to kill lier unless
her mother would deliver up all her
money and valuables.
A moment's hesitation would have
precipitated the tragedy; but the
mother saved the situation and her
child by promptly handing everything
of value over to the burglars.
Bennett Burleigh, an intrepid war
correspondent, whose work for English
papers during the Civil War gave him
a great reputation, numbers among his
experiences that of one night which he
says is as fresh in his mind as if it had
been but yesterday.
He was taken a prisoner by the Fed
eral troops and lay under sentence of
death in the prison at Fort Delaware.
He resolved on escape.
After considering many plans he re
solved on the most desperate.
Underneath the floor of his cell was
a sewer which ran directly into the
Delaware.
For days he worked on this plan,
halting half the time in deadly fear j
lest the guards should hear him.
But at length the floor was ready
for raising and the night of the at
tempt was at hand.
When darkness had fallen he raised
the floor, dropped beneath it into the
sewer and was carried, more dead than
alive, into the river.
He swam for hours in the cold and
darkness of night, and finally landed j
safely near Salem, N. J.
Miss Helen Terry had an equally ex
citing but more painful experience !
when, as a child of seven, she was
playing the part of Puck in "A Mid
summer Night's Dream" at Manches
ter.
At the conclusion of the play she was
raised through the trapdoor seated on
a mushroom to make the closing
speech, and on this occasion the door,
closing too soon, imprisoned one of her
feet.
She filled the house with her shrieks,
and it was some time before her in
jured foot was released.
Curiously enough, Miss Nellie Farren
had a very similar experience.
"In my very first engagement," she
relates, "when I was only seven years
of age, an 'orrible accident' happened
to me.
"I was playing the part of one of
the little genii of the ring in 'Aladdin,'
was packed in a small box and had to
disappear through a trapdoor.
"Unfortunately the door did not
work properly and I was precipitated
into a deep cellar.
"Everybody thought I must be killed,
and the delight of my horrified mother,
who witnessed the accident, may be
imagined when, from the deeps below
the stage, she heard my small voice
cry, 'lt's all right, mammle; I's not
much hurt.'"
A Hero of tlie St. Pierre Dinanter.
The Roddam. In charge of Captain
E. W. Freeman, was anchored about
three ship's lengths from shore at the
time when St. Pierre was annihilated
and all the other vessels in the harbor
were destroyed. The Roddam was
saved, not by accident, hilt by the
coolness and nerve of her commander,
who once before saved his vessel un
der circumstances when eleven other
steamships fOll ndered.
At the time when the fatal blast
from Mont Pelee swept over St. Pierre
and the bay. Captain Freeman was
standing on the deck of his vessel. Ac
cording to his observations, while there
were many minor puffs of cloud* from
rne volcano, there was only one great
eruption, and this came from the side
of the mountain. There were no de
tonations or loud reports, and he saw
uo sheet of flame accompanying the
hot blast. The force of this, which
hurled massive stoue buildings to the
ground, was so great, however, that he
believes it was the cause of the steam
ship Grappler turning turtle. There
was no return blast and 110 absence of
air. The difficulty in breathing was
due to the quantity of fine ash with
which the atmosphere was charged
and the fetid sulphurous gases.
The Roddam was not saved by being
lifted on a wave, neither was she saved
by knocking out shackle pins and slip
ping the cables. What the captain did
was to free his windlass and then run
full speed astern until the cable parted.
Rut now, to add to the horror of the
situation, he found the steering gear so
clogged with ashes as to be useless.
In this predicament there was nothing
to do but to steam ahead, and then
astern, and so on, close to burning
ships, and hearing the cries of those
on board and those running frantically
along the shore, until the gear was
cleared. At the end of an hour and a
half this was accomplished, and the
Roddam steamed out to sea, with
twenty-six dying men on lier decks.
Captain Freeman is certain that many
of the people of St. Pierre did not die
suddenly, but with terrible and pro
longed suffering. Twenty-six of his
own men died, most of them slowly.
About nine hours after the eruption
the Roddam steamed into the harbor 1
of St. Lucia with 120 tons of mud and j
ashes on her decks. Although the ash I
probably contained a considerable per
centage of magnetite, no disturbance
of the compass was noted. Before the
eruption 110 disturbance of the barom
eter was observed. That Captain Free
man, while on a burning ship, where
he was more than half suffocated with
hot ashes, when the boots were burned
from his feet, his face seared and his
hands so scorched and welted that he
worked with his elbows, had the pres
ence of mind to do what he did and the
physical and mental power to carry
out his intentions under these trying
conditions, is an instance of grit and
coolness such as is rarely chronicled.
Bitten By a Wildcat.
James Cnvanaugh, of Albany, and
his nephew, Samuel McGuigan, of Med
way, Greene County, had an encounter
with a wildcat recently. Tliey killed
the animal, hut not until Mr. Cavan
augh's hand had been badly bitten and
Mr. Cavanaugh was obliged to return
to Albany to have the wound cauter
ized. The physician says lie will not
lose the hand, but it will be useless for
some time.
One night Mr. Cavanaugh heard the
screech of a wildcat in the woods. He
told his nephew of what lie had heard,
and they went into the woods the next
day to secure the animal. They were
armed with a shotgun. After beating
about in the woods for some time they
heard a screech, which they traced to
a large tree, and there discovered the
animal. Mr. Cavanaugh approached
carefully, and, when he was near
enough, took steady aim and fired.
The wildcat fell to the ground, kick
ing spasmodically for an instant, and
then lay still.
Cavanaugh and his nephew waited
a few minutes and then approached
the animal. To all appearances it was
dead, and Cavanaugh grabbed it by
the hind legs preparatory to carrying
it away. Rut that cat had more than
one life, for as soon as .Cavanaugh
reached out it curled up and began to
fight. It got Cavnnaugli's fingers in
its teeth and held them there. McGui
gan came to his relative's assistance
and managed to make the animal re
lease its hold. But it did so only to
jump on McGuigan's shoulder and bite
his cheek. Then Cavanaugh shot it
and it fell over dead.
The wildcat was taken to Cntskill
and is on exhibition there. It is the
largest seen in that part of the Cntskill
Mountains in some years, being three
feet in length. Cavanaugli's tinge*
had been bitten through to fbe bone.—
New York Sun.
111 A FOR of Bats.
"I have experienced many kinds of
showers in my sea life," said Captain
Hnrland, of the British steamor Har
danger, "but it remained for me to feel
the effect of a rain of bats on the trip
down the coast from New York to
Baltimore.
"Last Tuesday night, when about ten
miles off the Delaware, we were sud
denly being struck in the face and on
our heads, and sometimes on our
bodies, by myriads of birds, as we sup
posed. We were not long finding out
that the sudden attack was from beats
of bats, if I may apply that term. It
was with difficulty that those on deck
could protect themselves from injuries
from their sharp, tu-like wings, as
tliey flew about in all directions. We
ran out of the flock during the night,
but next morning we captured a mini- j
ber on deck, where they had fallen ex- |
liausted. I took up one which had 1111- !
dor its wing an infant bat, which It
had carried far out to sea, and during,
tlie time it was beating about our
decks, against the rigging, boats and
smokestack, this tiny infant had held
011 and fallen with its exhausted parent
jto the deck. I shall try to raise the
pair, and also several others.
"1 doubt if there is anybody who can
j boast of such a queer capture and lias
I the idea of making pets of them. I
j shall look up natural history and seek
some plan to preserve their lives, and
seo what will he the result."
The battle with the hats, Captain
Ilarland says, was renewed to a less
extent during Wednesday night in the
Chesapeake Bay. He cannot recollect
of having seen bats at sea before.—Bal
timore Sun.
CHILDREN'S DEPARTMENT:
Do Your Host.
No matter what the work before you,
Do your best;
On fortune's page they're sure to score you,
Do your best;
No matter how the work detains you,
No matter how its dullness chains you,
No matter what the sum it gains you,
~V> your best.
—Cleveland Plain-Dealer.
A Miniature Oak Tree.
If an acorn be suspended by a piece
of thread -within half an inch of the
surface of some water contained In a
hyacinth glass, and so permitted to
remain without being disturbed, It will.
In a few months, burst and throw a
root down Into the water, and shoot
upwards its straight and tapering
stem, with beautiful little green leaves.
A young oak tree growing In this
way is a very Interesting object. A
chestnut may be treated in the same
manner. The water must be changed
sufficiently often to afford "these trees
the necessary quantity of nourishment
from the matter contained in it-
Washington Star.
Tlie Electric Dancer*.
With the help of electricity in Its
simplest form a great many tricks and
entertaining feats can be performed,
such as the following; Get a plain
sheet of glass about twelve inches long
by eight inches wide, and insert it
between two volumes, as shown In il
lustration. The distance of the glass
from the table should be about three
Inches. With the help of scissors cut
a number of small figures, such as
men, women, clowns, animals, etc., not
higher than one and one-half .inches,
out of different colored paper. Lay the
little figures flat on a line on the table
underneath the glass. Make a sort of
ball of woolen, or, better yet, silk
cloth, warm it a little and rub the sur
THE ELECTRIC DANCERS. \
face of the glass with It. Yon will
notice Immediately how the electric
ity obtained by this process enlivens
the little paper figures, how they stand
tip and jump to the glass ceiling of
their little ballroom, to be repulsed
ind fall back, only to renew their
lance. If you stop rubbing, the funny
ictlons of the figures are continued for
a while; when the dance is ended the
touch of the hand on the glass Is suf-
Iclent to enliven the ligures again.—
New York Tribune.
Majjlc Vupltw
nil
The performer shows an apple strung
pn a piece of cord. He lets It slide
lawn the cord and suddenly stops It
half way down, so that it seems t®
be floating in the air, until he givea 1
permission to continue its journejj.
There are different ways of doing this
trick, but they all depend upon th®
same principle.
A curved packing needle is used In
conducting the cord through the apple,
making a curved channel. By holding
the cord loosely the apple can slid®
down in consequence of its weight, but
as soon as the cord is stretched (this
being hardly perceptible) the apple la
brought to a standstill. When the cord
is relaxed the apple will continue ita
sliding motion.
Novel Top-Spinning Device.
To spin a top well, as every boy
knows, care must be used in winding
r —"
yy
WINDING UP THE CORD IS UNNECESSARY
the string, as well as in throwing the
top, the tension of the cord having con
siderable to do with the speed of revo
lution. Now a Western inventor cornea
forward with a top which, while It
makes use of the string, does not have
it wound on the top, as Is necessary
with the old kind. The illustration
gives an idea of the device, which Is
used in connection wltu the corn to '
give the top Its rotary motion, and also
shows the manner of applying the
string and spinning wire. The latter
Is formed with a loop at one end in
which one linger of the left hand Is in
serted, while the opposite end of the
wire has a curved hook which 'sur
rounds the spindle on the top. At the
point of the long loop is a guide
through which the string feeds to the
top. To put the top in motion the
cord is given a single turn around the
spindle, the free, long end 5s inserted
in the guide, and the hook of the spin
ning wire is placed over the spindle un
derneath the cord. It is obvious that
a sudden and strong pull on the cord
and an equal resistance with the other
hand will hold the top stationary in a
vertical plane, while the rapidly mov- ,
ing cord will give motion to the spindle \
to rotate the top as the cord Is drawn \
through the guide. When the string y
has passed through the guide there
is no further resistance and the top
drops of its own accord to tile floor,
maintaining its motion for a great
length of time.—Philadelphia lteeord.
Learn How to llreatlio.
It is possible to exercise one's whole
body, to keep It strong and well, sim
ply by breathing properly. Children
should be taught to breathe and to get
into the habit of tilling the whole lung
space at each inhalation and of empty
ing it completely at each exhalation.
There is no better way of getting to
sleep soon after going to bed than by
breathing properly. Push away the pil
low and lie flat upon the back with the
muscles relaxed. Slowly draw in the f*
deepest breath possible, hold it for four
seconds, then slowly expel It until the
chest and abdomen have collapsed. Re
peat this until you are tired or fall
asleep. There are scores of ways of
varying this exercise. But this is the
essential. Of course it is assumed that
one sleeps with his bed room window*
open.—Philadelphia Time*.