The Cedarville Herald, Volume 12, Numbers 27-52

<3 * The Cedarville Herald. THEBATTLEFIELD. W H. BMIS, VuMlsbar. r cBD ^n v irx ft. ¥ GOING BACK TWO CENTURIES. Tbli May Be Done By Merely T a iln f a Trip to Calx*. “ I£ one desires 'to experience the novelty of stepping back two hundred years and living a season in the seven­ teenth century, he may do so by taking a trip to the island of Cuba, which oc­ cupies only foui* .and one-half days,” said Sigmund Rothschild in conversa­ tion with a Proa Press ’ representative. Mr, Rothschild returned the other day from his regular autumnal visit to’ Havana. “ The financial condition of Cuba, is simply deplorable,” said Mr. Rotha* child. “ The taxation 1 b awful, and ap­ plied to everything. Not a thing es­ capes. There ia even tax on signs such as^“ For Rent’ or 'For Sale.’ In order to evade this tax when a householder has a vacant room to let he will hang out a sign,with simply a key painted on it. I f he has two rooms he paints two keys, etc. Every guest who registers at a hotel must pay a tax of ten cents, gold value, for registering his name, and ■ the clerk _must affix a revenue stamp opposite the name; thep, when the government official comes around and cancels the stamp the guest must pay him 5 cents as his fee The piaster, or Spanish gold dollar, is worth only 90 cents of the American dollar, and the silver '’only 65 cents, yet the paper money is so poor that it takes $3.40 to equal a piaster. The government has recently offered to redeem this paper at $1 in silver for $2 in paper, in amounts not over $3. 'This has resulted in an almost total loss of small change. The small change was ip shlnplasters.and now that these have been absorbed there is nothing to take^ their place. I paid 10per cents for change for a bill in order to pay a bootblack a dime for blacking my boots.. ’‘The government lottery is another great cause of tbe poverty o f the peo­ ple.’ A •drawing is held every two weeks and it seems as though the en­ tire earnings of the people went into the thing, From the time ono.lsni^ in Havana till the moment he leaves he is continually followed and importuned to buy lottery tickets. The sellers out­ number the newsboys, and like all ped­ dlers they constantly sing their stock without a moment’s let-up. The social evil, is everywhere glaringly public. The saloons, which contain nearly every form of intoxicating drink yet invented, are wide open day and night, Sundays and all days; but it must bo said to their credit that the Cubans are a very moderate people. 1 have never seen one of them intoxicated. Outside of the center of Havana the people us a rule go stark naked. In­ deed, I took dinner with the mayor of a small town one day, and at the table were his eight children, all of whom were as naked as the day they were born. The people eat but twice a day, the first meal being from eleven to. twelve and the lust between six and seven in tho evening. Trains on the railroads never run at night The longest road is one hundred and sixty miles The cars have no windows. In the first-class cars thoro are cane seats, in the second-class wooden seats. The first-class passage costs just twice as much as the second, hut neither car has any window. While riding into tho In­ terior one day I became linngry about ten a. m. and. asked tho conductor, as wc stopped at a station, if I could not get something to eat “ ‘Why, certainly,’ he said, ‘got off and get something and I’ll wait for you,’ “ At the end of twenty minutes, hav­ ing satisfied mv hunger, I returned to the car and asked the conductor if he was ahead o f time, or why he had al­ lowed me nearly half an hour in which to eat He said he had no regular time table; ail he had to do was to go up to the end of the line one day and hack the next* The arrival of the train a half hour earlier or later was a matter of no account “ The hotel accommodations arc very poor. They advertise American eleva­ tors in order to catch custom, hut the elevators do not elevate. They are there, hut they might as well be paint­ ed on the wall, for they are seldom operated. One of the unpleasant feat­ ures of life in Cuba and one that offsets the delightful climate, is the annoying insect*. I t is impossible to have car­ pets or upholstered furniture, as they tire quickly destroyed by vermin. The bedsteads are of iron, and the furniture in all rooms, even among tho wealthy, only plain wood. The legs of the tabie at the hotel stand in basins of water to keep the ants from it, and the water soon becomes black with drowned ants. Americans are notified on retiring to wad their enrs with cotton to keep out the ants. The water supplied by the Water works is too filthy to drink, and fhs pretsdrO does not send it above the first story. Prinking walertis peddled around in kegs, the same; ns beer is de­ livered here. Outside bf Havana there are few Wagon roads, and all travel is by horseback. Only about one-seventh of the ferilljs land of the island is under cultivation. Next to tobacco the sugar crop la the chief agricultural product, and this, with some bananas and pine­ apples, comprises all the export prod­ ucts. Havana is losing ground as a city. It is not up to what it was ten years sgJ.” --I>etrolt FraePiess. KILLING A MAN, . _ A, Soldier’* Graphic picture of Beal and OHIO .j ' Horrible War. 1 They do not call it murder wli6n men meet {^slaughter each other in battle. They simply report so many dead, wounded and missing.When you fire in­ to the smoke concealing the other battle-line ’ you fire in the hopes to kill or wound. It is your duty. Hatties can not be won without killing, and the result, of bat­ tles changes the whole system of gov­ ernments, You load and fire—load and fir*—move to the right or left—advance or retreat, and when the battle is oyer, you may have fired fifty rounds andyet you have not had a near sight of tbe enemy;" "you have simply fired -a t.him, and you can not vouch that one single one of your bullets has found a living target. Here is a brigade of us in •battle line across an old meadow; our right’and .left join other brigades. Wo have thrown down the rail fence, gathered logs and brush and sods..and erected a breast-works, ft is only a slight one, but enough to shelter' us while lying down, A division of the enemy breaks cover half a mile away and, comes marching down upon us. The field- pieces behind: us open on their solid columns; but they are not checked. Under the smoke we can see the week of the shells, but they can not halt that mass of men, The grape and canister does awful execution, hut there should be a dozen guns behind us instead of six. They are going to charge us. The guns can not prevent that. Orders run along the line, and we are waiting un­ til every bullet, no matter if fired by a soldier with his eyes shut, must hit a foe, I select my man while he is yet beyond range. I have eyes for no othbr. He is a tall, soldierly fellow wearing tho stripes of a sergeant. As lie comes nearer I imagine that he is looking as fixedly at me os I am at him. 1 ad­ mire his coolness. He looks neither to the right nor to the left. Tbe man on his right is hit and goes down* hut he does not falter. I am. going to kill that man! I have a rest for my gun on the breastwork, and when tho order comes JhaSto f can not miss him. He is living his last min­ ute on earth!1We are calmly waiting until our volley Bhall prove a veritable flame of death. Now they close up the gaps, and we hear the shouts of thei.- officers as they make ready to charge, My man is still onnpsite me. He still ‘seems to be looking at me aryl no one else. I know the word is coming in a few, seconds more, and I aim at his chest I could almost be sure of hitting him with a stone when“wo get the word to fire. . There is a billow of flame—a billow of smoke—a fierce crash, and four thousand ballets are fired into that compact mass of advancing men. .Not one volley atone, though that worked horrible destruction, but another and another, until there was no longer a living man to fire a t Tho smoko drifts slowly away—men cheer and yell—wo can see the meadow before us heaped with dead and dying men. Wc advance our line. As wc go forward I look for my victim. He is lying on his back, eyes half shut and fingers clutching at the grass.. He gasps, draws up his legs and straight­ ens them out agnin, and is dead, as I pass on. I. have killed my manf My bullet alone struck .him, tearing that ghastly wound in his breast and I am entitled to all the honor. Do I swing my cap and cheer? Do I point him out and expect to be congratulated? No! I have no cheers. 1 feel no elation. I fool that I murdered him, war or no war, and that liis agonized face will haunt me through all the years of my life.—Detroit Free Press. fashioned fire-place hung tw*o littlo stockings, waiting the coming of Santa. Claus! Others saw it too, and they groaned out ns if wounded, Well, the man refused to surrender. He did not know pur strength, and perhaps he joped to heat us off. lie killed two of our men and wounded a third right on tno start Then our men began firing iuto tlio house. It was all over iu five minutes. Wo entered to find the man .lying desperately wound­ ed. Beyond him lay one of the children gasping its last, and at the right o f,tho llre-place tho old grey-haired father with his life-blood welling out of a wound in his side, ■ We had captured our man, but there, was no chceritig. There lav our dead under the lealk-ss. pear trees, but no one stood over them with words of re­ gret Wo stood there and looked at those little stockings until the memory of them was burned into our very souls forever and forever. Tho wife shrieked curses upon our heads. The aged mother knelt and prayed God to punish iis , and now and then the dying father groaned as his life ebbed away. And yet we neither seemed to sec nor hear. There ngainst tho ' mantel hung the home-knit blue stockings which we had filled with woe and wretchedness and sorrow os our gifts, They were the last things we saw-as we silently drew away from the ho.use—they seem­ ed to hang before us as we rode back in the storm and darkness to our lines.' —M. Quad, in N. Y. World. ON THE DRUM HEAD, A WAR-TIME CHRISTMAS. ^ ^ 9 One Occasion When ■ Capture nroaght Sorrow to the Victor’* llcnrt. Some of the scouts had brought in word that a guerrilla leader whom wc had long sought to kill or capture was at a farm-house five miles away, haying only a man or two with him. The or­ ders were to take fifty men and seek his capture. It was tbe night before Christmas in one of those last bloody years of war. There was a light snow on the ground and the wind had an edge which cut like a knife. As we rode off tip the mountain road and saw tli j farm-liousc lights twinkle hero and there I wondered if Santa Claus would he forgotten in all of them. There were chiUlt'en there, and though war’s musketry had kept them fearful, and war's blood-stains had paled their faces, they surely would not forget the legend of the reindeers and the chimney. So I hoped, at least. It was a cold, droary ride, but we reached the old farm-house at last. A scout sent on ahead came hack to re­ port that our man was there. It was his home—his roof*tree. Dangerous as he knew it to be, he had stolen back on the night before Chi istrnas to spend a ie\i hours with wife and children— with tho gray-haired father and mother who sat in the chimney-corners on thin night and smoked their pipes. I saw them through the window as we moved up to surround the house. I saw, too, a couple of children seated together on the knCe of the man we had com* to surprise* and, beside him, with jier baud on liis shoulder, was his wife. And I saw another sight as I stood for a moment—a sight that struck ms like a blow, Thefc beside the old* Tlie Sturtling Kevelatlon of n Baltic- llcld Execution. We had crossed the river to hunt for Dee and give him battle in the wilder­ ness. Darkness was just settling down, and the advance had halted for the night, when a squad of cavalry brought in a young man from our front. lie wore a mixed uniform, as did most of the confederates at that day, or as did ■most of those belonging to the partisan commands. He hud on blue, trousers, a lUtternut jacket, aqd his hat belonged .o neither *side. They said he was a spy. They said it carelessly enough, but there was an awful significance in the term at that hour. In camp he would have been searched, interro­ gated and imprisoned. It' might have been weeks before his trial, and lie would have been allowed every chance for his life, We were on the march. There had been fighting There would be more to-morrow. That meant a drum-liead trial for the spy, How speedily everything was arrang, cd. .1was at headquarters and heard and saw it all. Within half an hour a court-martial was convened—grave faced officers who looked into tbe face of the young man at first with interest then with something like admiration— [ said a young man, I was wrong. lie was uboy of seventeen or eighteen. 11c had big blue eyes, chestnut curls, anc his checks were as smooth as u girl’s. He was a handsome lad, and I believe that tivery man in the tent felt to pity him. ‘ ‘What's your name?” “ .Tames Blank.” ‘•What regiment?” No reply. “ Arc you a citizen or soldier?” No reply. “Can you make any defense to the charge of being a spy?” No reply. The officers looked at each othcr-nnd nodded, and the president waved his1 hand. It didn't seem a minute before u file of soldiers-came. The face of the boy grew white, but he moved like one in a dream. His big blue eyes looked upon one after another, as if searching tot a friend, and my heart yearned to cry out that ho was only a boy and ought to be given more time. Tramp! tramp! tramp! It was the detail marching him oil into the darkness “ Halt! Tie this handkerchief orer his eyes!” They had brought a lantern. By its light 1saw tha big blue eyes for the last time as they looked around in a dazed way. I wanted to shoutto the boy and warn him that; it was not even yet too late to prove that ho was not wliat they believed him to be, but the grimnos3 of the scene parched my tongue. •Tlaoe him there! Fall back! Atten­ tion! Ready—aim—fire!” Toil minutes later the officer in charge of the firing party touched liis cap and reported: “Orders have been executed, sir!” “ Any further evidence?'' “No sir, except that she was a young woman.”--M. Quad, in N. Y. World/ Moran Colonel. On a certain Occasion a Yankee officer cavalierly rode up to the gate of tlnr late Judge E. I. Bullock during one of the periods of federal occupation oi this section and asked a little negro boy (who, by the way, is now residing here) “ who lived at that house,", to which the boy replied in a matter-of- course way: “ GoL Bullock,” “ Col. Bullock?” said the federal. “And limv d.d he come to be a colonel, will you please tell me?” In some wonderment, but with positive assurance, the hoy re* plied; “Why, he was born a colonel, sir.” And truly he was.—Clinton (Ky.) Democrat*......... ..^ _ —Ho (despairingly)—It doesn’t mat­ ter if I have got lots of money,. I can not folrget that my grandfather was a stage-driver. She (sweetly)—That is all right. Yoti exit refer to your ances­ tral hauls without going into particu­ lar* —Spark* Hi WOMAN’S BEHALF. AT THE BAR OF JUSTICE- The Honor* Won by a Beautiful Young Vri'iii’Ii Woinuli In » t » w School, . The admission last year of Mile, tfar- miKa Bdcesco to practice law in the French courts evoked columns of spir­ ited writing from the Parisian press and revolutionized the classic precincts of L'Keolo dn Droit.. Fancy' the tall, graceful figure of a girl of twenty-three, with dark hair brushed high oil an in­ tellectual forehead, sparkling dark eyes and rich brunette color offset by a natty gown of brown doth, with sleeves and trimmings of brown velvet shot with gold, and a dashing hat .garlanded with pink silk hollyhocks, and you have the portrait of Mile. Bilceseo as she was wont to appear in the boulevards of Paris. The only child of a wealthy banker of Bucharest, the capital of Rouimmia, it was iu obedience to her father's wishes that; she pursued the study of the law. Carefully instructed by private teach­ ers at home, she passed the examina­ tion with the young men in the college of Bucharest, taking at the age of seventeen the degree of bachelor of letters and science. She then sought Paris and applied . for admission to L'Ecole du Droit to pursue the course with the young men. The application created a tumult in the classic temple. Three professors in the faculty strenu­ ously opposed her admission on a ground that the young men might be wanting in respect toward her. In a body ofTiOtf men site took the highest rank, und tills intellectual triumph outweighed the inorai scruples of the faculty, and slio was assigned to a seat aloof butin the -same roomwith the students. At the close-of tho first year a . professor in - a public address thanked the young men for the chivalry of their conduct toward Mile, Bilceseo, and warmly praised her industry, per­ severance and dignity. Six years are the term' of the ap­ prenticeship - of the law student of France. During these years Mile, Jiil- cesco missed but one day. Ilcr devoted mother was her constant companion, going with her to the college and occu­ pying a seat at her side during all the tedious lectures of six laborious years. The portcullis lifted, it will be inter­ esting to note that generations ore yet required to obliterate that most crip­ pling institution o f the Latin race, the ch&pcroa. - The -French advocate wears in court a black gown witli angel sleeves and a round black cap. A witty Bayard of the tribune summarily dismissed the difficulty., "An opposition can not bo put upon an opposition, saitli the law. Mademoiselle already wears a gown, and Unit of the advocate can not be put over it!” The last year of tho course is given to tlie preparation of the thesis. Mile. Bilceseo argued the rights of the mother in Roman and French law. I t is tlio first time the subject lias been legally treated. The thesis won tlio approval of the most radical conserva­ tors, while the suffragists of socialistic tendencies accuse Mile. Bilceseo of be­ ing narrowed by the influence of her preceptors, Mile. Bilceseo is now practicing at the bur of her native city, Bucharest. Accomplished pianist, clever artist, she - is versed in the languages of Europe. “ 1 am studying English.” she writes; “ and hope to master it in time to enjoy the World’s fair.”—Chicago Herald. • A BEAUTIFUL SISTERHOOD. The Kind Art o f n King'* IlMiighter » » An Elevated llallrosd Train. On an elevated train the other dny a glimpse was had of a kind act, the doer of which little suspected that she was noticed. Among the passengers was a Bwcet-faccd young woman, dressed in fresh but not deep "mourning, such as oue might wear for a young child. At one of the stations another woman got on carrying a baby. Both were clean­ ly but poorly dressed, the baby partic­ ularly needing warmer garments than its gingham dross for the sharp air of tho day. It wore no hat, a little shawl pinned over its head serving for liat and cloak as well. The pair were seated directly oppo­ site tlio lady in black, whose gaze was soon riveted upon them. Slit- watched the baby as if she could not take her eyes from it. and when a shifting of passengers left a vacant seat on one side o f the mother she crossed and took it. “ Wliat a bright baby," she said, lean­ ing toward it; “ lioW old is she?” with a soft sinlle at the pleased mother. The woman told her. “ Ah!” said tho first speaker* '“ my glimpse was had, too, o f a silver - r-cs and a tiny knot of purple riiihon, v.*„ ,'t, showed in whose nanmthc dead i •> 's garments were offered;1 If this is spirit of all the King's Daughters v.j.ut a beautiful sisterhood it is!—N. Y ./> ;n. THE WOMAN OF FORTY. \r >u no larger.” Then she bent down and smiled in the baby’s eyes, letting its little hand clasp one of her gloved fin­ gers, “ There is a little coat and warm cap,” she said, speaking low and rap­ idly, “ will you give me your address and let mo send it to you?” Tho woman scarcely eaiiglit her meaning. “Quick, please, I leave nt the next station,” urged the other, still playing with the babjL Hesitatingly then and flashing * lit­ tle, an address was given. A low “ Thank you” was the reply, amt then the train slowed up, The involuntary listener and assist­ ant at the little scene saw the black- robed figure pause a moment on the platform outside and take up a tablet attached to her belt, evidently to Write down the addre** A t the did to a A Trllitito to tint Matured Fcmsilit by Oi,„ Who 11H* Studied Jli>r, At forty, if ever, the ladies Know t to make the most of ihemsdvc,, wi; .,-n is untrue of the vast majorities iu •!»> twenties, Perhaps at, no other ;i.;b the best’t.ype of woman more Mnk.i.u- ly beautiful, She understands- 1», exercise her gifts and charms in mM effective fashion. 1 The grace of perfect self-posse.-,-,, ,u, ( j ■often wanting in young women, is hers, says the Troy Press. I f she whs diili- dent, awkward and inexperienced, con­ tact with .society has removed these im­ perfections; if she -was gushing, emo­ tional, affected and too talkative, she has corrected these faults and is warily winsome where before she was posi­ tively wearisome. In the normal evo­ lution of taste she has acquired the rare art of dressing faultlessly and so. avoiding the detracting .infelicities of earlier .years. Her selections of style, color and material harmonize with-tier figure, complexion and the occasion, and shedoesn’t look a “ day over thirty.” The woman of forty is infinitely more attractive-to men than she wilt bu in later life, when her fine complexion fades, wrinkles leave their year-marks across her brow, silver threads in her glossy hair, her eyes lose their luster ‘ and her step its sprightlincss. She inay. always be agreeable, but never again so fascinating. The woman of forty! She is dis­ tracting, delightful, divine. H e r so­ ciety is a solace which robs remain- * hrance of all remorse and poverty of all pain. . The spell of liar dark, depth- less eyes wakens intent emotions into ecstatic life, while the music of iter voice thrills and fills the soul' witlv joy unspeakable; Grace, goodness and gentleness supplement the rare and ravishing beauty of fneo and figure, and her welcoming smile is a precious prize, beside which 'vealtli anil learn­ ing and kingdoms nro but dross. Lux­ uriant nature in the in1ul,to plentitmlu of her blessings has bequeathed to man naught else so intoxicating and incomparable as the woman of forty. Counted* Tolstoi’* Noble. Character. The Countess Sophia Tolstoi is -said. to be one of the'- most, truly feminine heroes who was ever cast into a shadow by a brilliant light close by. When the count married lie brought liis beautiful bride of half liis age to the lonely manor house which lie had just erected on one of his estates and there she lived for seventeen years. The horrible loneliness of it, especially ■ in winter, with not a neighbor for miles, unless one reckon the village at the park gate, which could not have furnished anything but humnu beings, and never a congenial companion for her. Needless to say that lie never had oil a low-bodied gown, never went to the theater or u ball in nil her fair young life, trad to tlio loneliness of tlio coun­ try must be added the absolute loneli­ ness during the absence of tlio count, who had much reading to dp in .Moscow , ; for tiie historical portions o f liis great Gj war drama. When he* got tired of his village Lk school, of, his experiments upon the- ■ infant peasant mind, .of things in gen­ eral, lie could and did go away for rest The countess did not. A r retty Young Author. Margaret Behind, the author of “ John Wnrd, Preacher,” is a pretty woman of a fine physique, a long way tills side of thirty, with a wonderful comtm&i of language in conversation, and a Plan­ ner indicative of tbe highest'Culture. She lives in Boston, and is one of the few writers who had phenomenal su;'- cuss In the sale of her books. In.ten days after the publication of her ”Tne Old Garden and Other Poems” the fir-? edition was exhausted, the second edi­ tion brought an advanced price, rnd three other editions have appeared since, Within one week the first edi­ tion of*“ John Ward, Preacher,” wassold and several others have since followed WOMAN’S WAY. T hebe are in the United }',tate< women who possess medical diploma- A W oman ' s Bureau of «lmirnali«iu and Literature has been opened in New York, by Mrs. Emily Battey, former y of the New York Sup. Mas, D eh ixo is editor of thi-Ht. y Advocate, Palestine, Tex. Mrs l'.c.M W. Bowen is editor atid manager of i.. ■ ■Cotulla-fTc.i.) Ledger; Miss M abel Dpxr.Al’, a graduate >. the Philadelphia School of Design, lias been appointed one of tho five, lutin'- to decorate palace ear interiors at \S '• - mington, Del. , A woman ’ s walking club has beer: started in London. The member.- «;i !; nine or ten miles at * time and wouv i club Costume; a short homespun fire— and a Tam O'Shanter cap. I t took me five years. Bald a married man, to become convinced that tn>' cheapest way for me to run my hou-*' was to give my wife the money to spe:;-i as she Saw fit, and I think I have save l twenty-five per cent, by it. IS Germany fi.MW.tKW women enr.i their living by industrial pursuits; m England, 4,090,000; in France, G.TIM.n';:? in Austria-Hungary about the snthe.a:.,* America, including all oecnp.it.ous. something orer 3,TOO,009, forty,” wasted fev She had lately ttsta. suite of rooms ou th| of Laurel street, fa, tie Beech park, It for a quiet spinster and retirement, a with unalloyed plea; Opposite her new . old house with four wherein, wore set ti to each room. The to be very quiet perl dom saw them exci After she had been f week in her new p] was attracted by a| ' of an old gtntlema quaint house. Aft o'clock dinner she - herself cozfly witi; her, front win| old gentleman wou pear in his yard, his pocket a red solemnly, high in ai to wave it, .but le sweet will, or th moonlight nights o’clock he repeal . rite, or whatever it| nearly always turn] dow, and stared fi did not use the ill but gazed stcadfai This performance day. until Miss B fearfully nervous; it would draw dow neighborhood on hi muny- mild, well-b: old' gentleman undi not like his very o pulled down her bl; out to see what e: had none; he sti would retreat to tli her room, out of and her mirror toll Finally her ne her a week’s visit, a favorite niece Brown was Miss |v) 'HEY.! PLEASlJ mired his youtl four), his coif .body and even ' mildly} temper.] looking, too, all burn, and his nj ■undeniably red] The first day) kept him enga. photograph all half a dozen, this up a whe day Jack rem] and its owner i “ What a quJ •doing?” To which replied: “ I literally true] ’carefully turn The next di performance, | “ Confound Sophia;-I rn flirt with yc -Jack was a . iaken his deg , The fo llo w B h * climax as t] M usual, ant fending red i publican) bu| Miss Sophia*! tainutes! Hegrabl™ ■nisaunt, “ Fj hisoonfount «o t Jack Br He dashe, •cation to hi J*ck! don't! •hira worseH hmh&ujjj*, jtkbat Jack ■ lie wa* ■ facet, and ] m* old -* --*‘~nr—i irT-‘-iitraiii*