{ title: 'The Columbia Republican. (Hudson, N.Y.) 1881-1923, October 27, 1887, Page 1, Image 1', download_links: [ { link: 'http://www.loc.gov/rss/ndnp/ndnp.xml', label: 'application/rss+xml', meta: 'News about NYS Historic Newspapers - RSS Feed', }, { link: '/lccn/sn89071100/1887-10-27/ed-1/seq-1/png/', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn89071100/1887-10-27/ed-1/seq-1.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn89071100/1887-10-27/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn89071100/1887-10-27/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
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Remember what you | l | I I ropy, d o .#read here, it mav save y o u r ||| llltidy. or#iife, it has saved hanared9.|j| ■** #X)ou^t w ait until to-morrow, | | | ^ Try a Bottle To-day 1 □ e yon lov-splrltcd and v c a k . ||| f I f T o . S t S p ‘^ M'K c I ] ^ I j re you. |» ilintlm Cm. § tp H i 3 an, ]§ropxutm. Affinal of % Cowntj. Cams; $i .60 pa §mx, in ^Mana. TO L T IM B 6 8 . H U D S O N , N . Y . , T H U R S D A Y , O C T O B E R 2 7 , 1 8 8 7 . N U M B E R 4 3 p 0 « l r g . OCTOBER. O wizard month! again thou’rt here, And all the sunsets or the year With skillful touch thy magic t To wrap around thy dying leaves, And crown with royal pomp and g The sky above, the earth below. The Child of the Regiment. BY' G E O R G S A, B A K E R . Those tints that human art ne’er caught, And airy sprites, by Jack Frost led. The work with dainty Ungers sped. Till tree and shrub, m rohes otnre. Like martyrs, unto heaven aspire. From seas to seas of splendor tossed. In waves on waves of color lost, Thy days lade out, and fancies throng L'pon the heart, and drift along Yon hlazlng pathway of the sun, We see God’s saints walk, one by one. Hands beckon o’er the shining st;eam, w ith golden quivers all agleam. And misty phantom shapes arise. Cloud sentinels along the skies. Till fades the rose and purple light. And day a t last Is lost In night. Then how the shadows come and go I How soft the faint and silvery glow livery glow The moon sheds o’er the .iutumn leaves That stir and moan with every breeze; For a h ! beyond this month doth wait November, bleak and desolate. Some sadness still lurks eve E’eu In this soft October a ir; For as In Spring young hope Is bom. In Autumn memory sits forlorn, And swltt the lessons old return That human h earts reluctant learn. But what though all things pass awi E’en as the falling leaves decay ? What though our lives are but a brei And Love walks hand In-hand with There comes a resurrection day— Beyond October beckons May. —Ellenil.—Ellen mtchell, in Boston 3f. Mitcliell, in Bost Transcript. Two Kinds of Capital. T h e C o m p a r a ti v e V a l u e o f I llo n e y a n d of Knowledge and Shill. la 1848 two young men graduated from an interior college. When thes' were about to leave for home the presi dent shook them heartily by the hand and wished them success in life. “Ah, doctor,” said one, “it has come to Jim already. He has a fortune of fifty thousand dollars. But I have no capital to begin life with,” Jim’s fortune was a large one for those days. He had invested it and for a few years lived on the interest of it. The investment proved a bad one, and he lost every thing. He had nei ther trade, profession nor business habits. Hence he remained for the rest of his life a poor man. His com rade, knowing that success depended on his own efforts, studied a profession which, without a dollar of capital, brought him a competency, and at last wealth. Young men are apt to estimate mon ey alone as capital. That one of their number who has inherited money is, they think, better equipped for the struggle of life than any other. They should look into the comparative com mercial value of money ar “Oh, papa! Papsa’s Nelly found p a p a !” The city is in tumult. The mob is up. A great riot is impending. The troops, suddenly called out, are hastening to the armories. Amid a crowd of angry roughs stand, back to back, two soldiers. The elder is private Andrew McClane, head of the great “swamp” firm of McClane^ & Westervelt. The one in the blue^ coat -with double-barred shoulder straps is Fred. Westervelt, his junior partner and captain. Capt. Westervelt’s face, spite of his blonde beard, is almost boyish. He is taking excellent care of him self with his light officer’s sword. He seems rather to enjoy the situ ation. Private McClane is middle-aged. His hair and whiskers are grizzled. He holds a revolver steadily pointed at the head of the rough nearest him. He doesn’t enjoy the situa tion at all, and doesn’t pretend to, but there is a look about his mouth and eyes not pleasant to that rough. Just then a blue-eyed baby girl hugged the young ofiScer’s knees and cried -with childish triumph : “Ch, papa! papa’s turn back! Nelly found p a p a !” Then she made a desperate effort to climb upon him. Capt. Westervelt was astonished. He was not the papa of any little girl at all, and even if he had been would hardly have expected her just then. The crowd was aston ished, too. It stopped yelling. “Tjnnk lioro. Mofllftrifi.” s a i d f bard for me, will you, McClane ? Thanks! Do you know I don’t see through this. What does the child mean by calling me papa? and she seems so sure of i t !” “Think about that after we’re in the armory. She probably belongs l turn back! in one of these tenement houses.” ’‘She wasn’t brought up in one, at any rate. Did you ever hear a a tenement-house child say 'papa’ and ‘mamma ?’ And look at her hands—as delicate as a lady’s !” “Oh, nonsense! do come along.” “Not till I see her safe. I ’ve a notion she saved our lives to-night. Where do you live Nelly ? Where’s mamma ? Why, she’s asleep. Nelly! Nelly! Where do you live NeUy ?” “Wiv mamma.” “And where’s mamma ?” The child hesitated and thought deeply. “Nelly know. Somevere. Don’t ’ooknow? Nassy place—not nice like home. Mamma sick, and lie down and k’y and k’y. Nelly hate it, and go out for papa. Now papa take NeUy and mamma home ‘dain.” And she dropped off contentedly to sleep. “Well, Fred, you’ve your hands fuU. Come, m an! Ton ' must get to the armory. What will the colo nel say ? Biot duty, too”— “Come on, then!” edge and skill, before they are quite so sure of that. Figures, in and of kuowl- are qn this case, tell no lie. Oi late years, money in this country has decreased in value as money-getter, while human ability has increased. Thai is, the income from money invested at interest has diminished while the compensation for service rendered has become larger. For example, a capable domestic servant in our cities may annually lay by a sum equal to the income upon three thousand dollars in Government bonds ; and an industrious mechanic, in steady employment, earns a sum equal to the interest of twenty thous and dollars at four per cent. A teams ter in Montano, or a cow-boy in Colo rado, finds that bis strength and skill are worth to him, in money eacl as much as would be forty th( dollars invested in the same lands, even if he could buy them at par. ician in from practice would require sixty-sii thousand dollars in bonds to yield bin the same incom e ; and the editor-in- ;reat city daily has a power worth to him, in hard il of half a millii ates, of course, vary with and time, b u t they will if they convince the boys and 10 read them that they have in their brains and hands, while the power of brains and hands remains, actual, ney-yielding capital, more perma- it and secure, and far more satisfy: ing, than any gold bearing bonds.-^ Youth's Companion. GratefTil-Comforting. EPP’S COCOA. Breakfast. around us ready to attack whei point, we may escape mani: a « SeroU chief of a gres in his brain cssh, the capital of half Such estimates, of coi purpose if girls who graaually Bout np every lenaency toais- ja.alad!e8 are floating- 'herev er there is a weak ly a ratal Shalt by sr* 3 ready to atti 7e may escape inz ourselves well fonl with ^ I n g W a te r o rinl& r Sold only In hall.pound tins, by orocera, labelled tuns: JA iniES E P B S &. CO., Homoepathic oi Ists jondon England . sept- fl A T E K T 8 ^^*t* ®^®te*tahUit*^**TO^a^??n r venters Booh paten^mty. 70 page in I K 11. STOCB ‘ sepiasw tohiuty. 70-page. ars'experience. WA»§Bgton. P. C. PM F. A. Lehmann WASHDrarair, o.a. Women Farmers. One of the biggest farms in New York is that of Mrs. Barnum, at Hempstead, L. I. Mrs. Barnum hires about fifty men most of the year. She has some 1,300 acres, or more than two square miles, of land. There are hundreds of cattle upon it and many fine horses. She keeps a car penter «nd a blacksmith on the farm to attend to its tinkering. She super vises everything that is done on her premises, and does it well. Of course, too, there are plenty of women who farm for the fun of it, like Rose Coghlan at Yonkers, or like Mrs, Whitney, the fame of whose success as a poultry raiser at Grasslands has become national. But there are plenty of women farmers dependent upon the land for a livelihood without referring to such fortune’s favorites as these. Most of them, tooy being women of unusual intelligence—else would they, perhaps, be starving on the slim pro ceeds of “•fancy”work, with no fancy in it, or trying to walk in some of the conventional ruts in which women travelers forni such a packed proces sion that, poor creatures, they don’t give one another room to stand—most of them having had the good sense to think for themselves, are as much at home in the drawing-room as planning the week’s work for the hired men. “Look here, McClane,” said Capt. Westervelt. Mr. McClane did not look. He needed all his eyes for that nearest rowdy. He was a man who always attended strictly to business. Then Capt. Westervelt did a very silly, or, perhaps, a very wise thing. Leaving his sword to dangle from his wrist, he stooped and lifted lit tle “blue eyes.” She fairly screamed with delight, clasped his neck with her tiny arms as he said quietly to one of the rioters, a decent-looking fellow enough now that he had given over howling bad language. “Here, my man, just take the young one out of this, will you ? She may get hurt.” This man had two little girls of his own. They were in many ways like this little one. They had blue eyes ; they looked hungry and un cared for. Their thin faces and piteous cries for bread had helped make him a riotei’. He was a man, although a rough. So the man dropped a couple of bricks and reached to take NeUy. She did not appreciate him. She cried, “Papa! papa! make oogly man go ’way.” She lost her little temper. She made such vindictive demonstrations with hands and feet toward the objectionable counte nance that the “oogly man,” whose own little girls never treated him so, started backward, and catching his heels on his own bricks, fell among his companions in attitude undignified, and sat, gaping. The crowd, as one man, grinned. Mr. McClane lowered his revolver. He had himself smiled. He had seen the nearest rough laugh natur ally. He did not feel so much like shooting him now. He did not be lieve that he felt quite so much like smashing him. Perhaps he was right. We can never know, for just then something new happened. Two young men were in the rear; of the crowd. One was named mike, one Jim. Mike was there because he was a discontented brute. Jim, because he was good-natured and easily led into mischief. Both were employed by McClane & Westervelt. Said Jim : “Mike, it’s the bosses there!” “Faith, an’ is it ?” “But the child”— “Come with us. There’s no find ing out where she lives, and if you think I ’m going to leave this little innocent in the streets to-night”— “But, my dear boy”— Westervelt laughed. “Will you please remember we’re in uniform, private McClane ? Forward march!” And he stepped rapidly off. Mc Clane followed him, silent, but much perturbed in mind-^digesting chaff in anticipation. “Mo Helen Tlay Pweeman, mamma’s booty, papa’s pet.” Her voice was clear. Every heard h e r; every one exclaimed ii “Helen Clay Freeman! Can she be Olay Freeman’s child ?” “And did your papa wear these clothes?” asked Westervelt eagerly, beginning to understand. “Ess, lots of times. Cost to wear ’ejg and do out to be a soger man.” Little Adubt now why she had called him “papa.” Only a year ago Capt. Clay Freeman had been the most pop ular officer in that regiment. Wester velt, then his lieutenant, had of them all been intimate with him, but even he knew almost nothipg of Freeman’s home life. One day the regiment took part in that most nonsensical of mili tary exhibitions—a sham fight. It was in mid July, tbo moat sultry day of the season. The men were in their heavy uniforms, and were loaded with packed knapsacks, haversacks and cantee because the commanding gem thought “it looked so much m ore like real service”—and much he knew about it. The general sat on his horse, sur rounded by his staff in the shade; the men marched and countermarched, loaded and fired—in the sun. Cannon roared, rifles cracked, while smoke rolled over the plain; almost every moment some man staggered, dropped and was carried to the rear on a stretcher, a real, true stretcher, to be attended by the surgeons in a real, true field hospital. The general was delighted. His face glowed with pride. “Glorious!” said “I have never seen anything look so much like real service.\ It was true-—be never had. One or two of his staff had the advantage of him, but “military etiquette” kept them silent. TJp came a gray-headed, keen-eyed man, the surgeon of our regiment. ' loldier. H e door. Before turning the key he asked cautiously: “That you. Lewis 1” 1 and shut the door him, but not quickly Lewis slipped in quickly behind him, but not quick! enough to prevent the colonel seeing a thpng of gray jackets in the broad corridor, nor their wearers from see- >ugt a roar of manly voices. “Three cheers for the colonel I’’ “Hurrah 2 hurrah! hurrah 2 whish boom—ab 2 ” “Who was Col. Craig ?” “First in war, first injpeace, first in the hearts of his countrymen,” two hundred voices chorused in response. docto ------- _jsponse, ing and four hundred heavy boots echoed on the sounding floor some'’ ' ‘ sounded like thunder, set to “Bang, bangitty-bang-ban^ bang, bang.” mething that to this metre: “Nice discipline,” said the colonel, and blushed. Lewis was the colonel’s colored ser- “Lewis,” said his master, “this little night; all were glad to get such an “item,” and by daylight the pa were spreading the story of how little Nelly had been found, who she was and where she was. Ala.'^ the eyes that most of all would have been gladdened by the readii closed in death. But the goc itor, who at the last had learned much of the story of his beautiful and refined charity patient, saw the account in his morning paper. He had been very anxious for the cl and had done all he could, which in urbed state of the city but little, to find h e r ; so he 'i lediately to the armory. Stat- _ his name and business he was imediately passed, and the cor poral of the guard took him to the colonel. “Ool. Craig,” said he, “I am Dr. Wentworth. I saw in the pape that you had little Nelly Freeman here, and I have come to look after ‘‘Very well, major, I will attend to it. Can you wait a short time, doctor? You can take Nelly with you after we march out.” The doctor assented willingly. In a moment cheefs were ring: in every p art of the armory, as 1 men learned that orders had come, ^ ran to their company rooms, but- toning jackets and fastening body jt -. belts as they ran. Then the s roll of the drums made the resound till the shouts of the ser geants, “Fall in! men! fall in!” could sca,rcely be heard. Lewis had just time to carry little Nelly, almost excited as the men, although she didn’t know at what, to one of the galleries, where she could see everything. By the time she reach ed it the a \juewis said ins master, “this little girl is Nelly Freeman. Nelly, Lewis loves little girls, and ho will get vou some^ nice supper. Will Nelly arms. Nellv’s old ’ Lewis held oat his own “mammy\ in the been as black as Lewis, sounded very comfortable; and Nolly' made up her small mind that evei in this place, whii ■■ were “dood people.’ Lewis to< days had “Sup*’'\’-” ich was not “Ess, me do,” and while the colonel wont “It is—shure, the byes’ll kill ’eu.’ “Mebbe—I dunno.” “But, Mike, it’ll stop the business —there’s but the two of them intil it—^and where would we get places ?” “You’re right—bad’s better than nothin’—yell the ’cop is cornin’.’ Then these two philanthropists cried mightly “Away wid yez, byes ! Here’s the perlice”—and ran. The crowd fled, terror-stricken. Mr. McClane drew a long breath of relief. “A narrow escape that, Fred.,” said he. . “Now let’s go to the armory.” “Very well—^Now, little one, down you go,” and Westervelt attempted to set the child on her feet, but she clung closely to him. “Papa tarry Nelly. Nelly s’eepy. Take Nelly to mamma.” And she cuddled her eyes. “Come, Fred, put the child down, and let’s be off. These fellows will be back.” ^ i “JaBtputmy woydinth© spab- The scene at the armory that night was exciting. The great building was lighted brilliantly; a mob more curi ous and noisy than actually riotous, thronged about the entrance, where was posted a strong guard with bayon ets fixed. Members of the regiment were constantly arriving, and -making their way in, amid a chorus of booting and hisses. Every few minutes a cab would dash up, disgorge giay-coated soldiers and away again as fast as whip could urge. Now, four hacks arrive together. A blue-coated officer leaps from the fore most and shouts loudly for the guard. A strong detachment rushes down the steps; the crowd is pressed back, and while the carriages are surrounded by a line of steel a fatigue party hastily empties them and carries their con tents, heavy chests, indoors—fixed am munition from the State arsenal. Within is chaos come again. Men napping, or trying to; men shouting; men singing; men quietly chatting; men skylarking roughly; but all in the gray uniform, all with knapsacks packed and overcoats rolled, all ready at the sant’s call to spring for their rifles ‘fall in.” Into this scene Capt Westervelt car ried little Nelly, soundly sleeping on his arm. The guard stared, presented arms and wondered, dumbly, being on duty. The gray-coated throng within stared, saluted and wondered noisily, not being on duty. I A torrent of questions and remarks poured upon McClane as he pushed his way to the company room, silent, and trying to look unconscious. “Who is she ?\ “Where did you win her ?” “A new doll for the squad 2” “K company’s vivandiere^turn out the guard!” etc., etc. Meanwhile Westervelt had reached the cosy room, where stood the colonel, amid a group of his officers. He saluted with his left hand. The colonel returned his salute and stared in blank amazement. “What on earth are you doing with that child?” Before Westervelt could reply Nelly woke. She gazed around her, bewil dered and frightened by so many strange faces. She looked to “papa” for comfort. No comfort was there— it was not “papa” at all. The blue eyes dilated with fear; the rosy lips trembled; a piteous look came over the baby’s face as she cried: ‘Mamma! mamma 2 me want mamma 2 Oo not my papa t Bad man! bad man 1 On dot papa’s to’se on. Oo not my papa?” and she fought and struggled to get free, screaming. 0 Burgeon 3 a doctor, not a soldier. He either knew nor cared much about military etiquette, but he knew a great deal about sunstroke and its effects. Without even saluting ho blurted out, “Gen. — this is horrible, mur derous.” “What do you mean, sir?” “I mean this. You have about 2,000 men out there. In the list twenty min utes more than 100 of them have been brought in prostrated by the heat. This must be stopped.” The general gasped, “I ----- ■, I ----- , return to your post, sir, I’ll have you courtmartialed.” “Fooh !\ said the doctor, “you know what you’re doing now, and I’ll have adicted for manslaughter.” ansider yourself under arrest. Your sword, sir I” The doctor wore me, but this sounded like “real ser- “Bosh 1” said the doctor and went back to his work. The general nearly fainted. But the one or two of bis staff who had seen “real service,\ and so knew where the bounds of military etiqutte ended, said 7 ery plain words to him, and ides-cle camp were galloping in So she said; jewis took her, ‘‘We think she must be Capt. Free man’s little girl. Capt. Westervelt found her lost on the street, and he brought her here. We can’t find out whore she lives; her mother will be wild wit’n anxiety, and what to do I don’t know.” “Tell you, Mars’ Craig,” said Lewis, “lots o’ dem newspaper fellers ‘round to-night You tell some ob dem fel lers and dey have it all out to morrow mopnin’. Pat’s de plan. To-night I take care ob her. Take her up stairs to de small drill room next de kitchen. Get her good supper, make up bed and let her sleep till mamma come for her. How dat, Nelly ? Better fix her up liliy bit fust. M ars’ Craig.” “Yery well, Lewis; see that you take good care of her; and the colonel turned to his desk, while Lewis took Nelly to the basin, washed her face and hands, and combed and arranged her curling golden hair. True to his race, he had an eye for color. He took from a locker two small silk flags; one he twisted about her shoulders, and with the other cealed her soiled and here, a her.” “Very glad to see you, doctor; take a seat, won’t you ? Yes, the little thing’s here, safe and well. She’s holding a reception in the main drill room just now.- I su ler mother will be here so^ 3 her home; but how she to get her away from the men ,n’t say.” “Poor little thing. Ifear she has no home. Her mother died last night. I attended her. She was tered. me a sad stoi mt. Why, her husband was Clary eeman, an officer of your own regiment.” The colonel’s' fai very sad. “I knew that But the mother dead! Terrible How this miserable, thing ‘ I don’t know, but it is a 1 . Nelly clappec ight. They had at last. She listened their to rery order and watched every movement. She thought it was all for her amusement, for had not these “nice sogers” been promising all the morning that they would, march for her soon. She only missed the music. Soon the com panies were formed, the ranks were >ned and every man received his iy round ball cartridge. Then ntal front “Battalion, attention!” rang out. “Garry—arm s! Right shoulder— arm s! Column of fours—^fouTs right—^march!” And with that the long line filed out to the fight, while Nelly watched and waved farewell from the doctor’s arms. There came near being a quarrel between the officers’ wives as to' who should have immediate care of her, but Mrs. Craig settled that by the exercise of her prerogative, and took h er to her own home. The — : ---- j. --------'neg How proud they were of ] How they bored everybody ’ stories of the charms and perfec- ‘our daughter!” How they watched her as she sgimentneverneglectedthepromise given on the day of the great riot. of h e r; dy with stories of 1 ‘ ' tions of “o How they watched her as she grew up into a beautiful, cultivated, high-souled woman. And what ’s consent to he'r marria^ ‘6 it at last, after such i of the young man’s i and prospects »om ever underwent character, p o s it ion and. pi 3gro( Then, as they could do no more for her, they gave her up, -with such, a dower as caused both her and her' husband to remonstrate ivith the eatest vigor, but not the least feet. She never forgot the regiment. Its badge glittered among the laces and orange blossoms of her bridal dress. She never lost the esprit du corps, the regimental feeling. In loyalty, truth, honor and courage- in every best sense—she is still “the Child of the Regiment.” ikirfc. ragged She made a beautiful little goddess of Liberty perched on Lewis's as he bore her into thi the sto! around “Three chei :y by this tiuii lOon aides-cle camp were galloping : jvery direction, the firing ceased, the :anks were broken and the sham fight was over. In twenty minutes out of leas than 2,000 men engaged, 120 had fallen, overcome by the heat. Among them was Nelly’s father. A afterwards he was deftd. brotiier officers and the mem- is company attended the fun- They passed resolutions, had litably engrossed, and sent to ircome imong th( few days aft« All bis bers of his com; them suitably engrossed, and imily of the deceased. They wore shoulder crowded hall, regiment had heard me. They thronged for the baby!’’ shouted , men 2\ shouted Capt. 'Westervelt, sharply. “Don’t frighten the child! Let -Lewis pass.” They fell back quietly, and Nelly asn’t frightened at all. She loved loger men,’’ and these were such “nice soger men; ’ true they didn’t have “duns,\ which was a drawback, but they were smiling and kissing their hands to her, and calling out pleasant greetings fitted for baby earsf Nelly thought it just lovely. She laughed, id threw kisses to them as she passed, and with her bright face and brillian dress, she looked such a happy, pleas- ant pic! lighted with her. “Fall in, boys!” shouted some one, and in a moment the long column was formed, and Nelly was escorted to ‘^de small drill room next de kitchen,\ henceforth to be known as “the nursery,” with full mili- doctor. errible ! ipened X don't know , but it is a sh a m e to the regiment.” He thought a mo ment. “Doctor, will you tell this to my officers ?” Then to his or derly, “Ask the officers, as many as you can find, to come heie at once.” Soon the room filled. Nearly every officer in the regiment hasten ed there, for important news from headquarters was expected every moment. The colonel spoke: “Gentlemen, you all knew Clay Freeman. The little girl, as we supposed, is his child. Her mother died last night. This is Dr. 'Went worth, who attended her. He will tell you how she died,” The doctor, who guessed the colonel’s thought, told the sad story simply, but very movingly. The officers looked grave. The colonel w ill te ll y o u , and I belie all feel as I do. You Freeman w'as, and I say it is a burning disgrace to ns that we, his brother officers, have not thought igh, nor cared enough, to save friend’s widow from such 3. It is too late to do But what amends we I must make, if only for own sakes. His child is left, you know.\ “] out 'Westervelt; ce was click—i pause- Nine hundred breech-blocks closed id 900 rifles were ready for rioters. “Carry—arm s!” “Click-click, as th e h a m m e r s w e re b r o u g h t to th e half-cock, and the rifles are again perpendicular and motionless. The colonel spoke: “Men, w'e shall march out in less than an hour. I trust you to do your duty ; above all be attentive and prompt. Keep lool; don’t get excited ; don’t fire vithout orders. That is all I have to say to you ; remember i t ! Be fore we go I wish to speak to you of a very sad affair. You all re member Capt. Freeman. You re member how he died. His widow died last night in poverty and misery —without a friend, without a dollar. Think of it, men!_ Think of it! Olay Freeman’s widow dying of ................... Jh the very went on : “I will tell you how I feel about this, and I believe you do. You know what hunger on a bed off whicl blankets had been pawned, little girl that Capt. Westi brought in last night is Clay ' lan’s only child. She is alto and utterly dei ■velt our friem wretchedm much now. can make i er an orphan and utterly destitute. Is there not something for us to do here ? Is it not our duty to do something ?” Then he told them in a few words the plan the officers had agreed Trafalgar 8 qaar& Again. A S t r a n g e B i v o n a c a t F o r e r t v i n tU e B l e a r t o f E o n d o u . New York Sun’s CaWe Letter. We shall have a startling wariety of socialistic parties in England this win ter. Poverty, want and misery are fast increasing as cold weather approaches,and they will furnish thous ands of followers to every man who heads a protest of any sort against the want of bread and shelter. I have cabled you something in a previous letter concerning the horrible condition -of Trafalger square at night. It grows worse every day. Despite the rain and cold, shivering wretches continue to cover the stones of the square every night, and the place has recently be come a resort for the curious gay young bucks. After dinner out in the Strand, they pass by there to throw down a few coppers and to heighten, perhaps, the appreciation of tfieir own blessings by a glimpse at the extreme of misery. Travelers also, especially Americans, who fill the huge hotels about the square, visit the place reg ularly as one of the sights of London. Many a story will soon be told in America of the frightful poverty of London,and the listeners will have the satisfaction of knowing that the facts cannot possibly be exaggerated. I talked with an American lady who went there with some friends and was frightened into hysterics'.within a few moments. She is a charitable young married woman who, by the way, was recently a visitor at the 'White House. In a moment of sympathy she handed a coin to a poor man. In a second she said the entire pavement seemed to rise up and come rushing at her. She bad not noticed that the whole surface of the square was covered with stretched-out men and women, many of them almost half-naked, of whom a half hundred had crushed and strug- happy, pleas for us nen were de Many stood “W< the fai the “usi iry honors. Here, seat on'e upon thi ‘Leave her to me, colonel,” cried b Westervelt; “my sister—” ‘No, Westervelt, this is a matter ■ us all.” Many plans were proposed. Finally Major Strong, who had od silent all this time, spoke fell, colonel, I think you can see we’re all with y o u ; but I don’t like altogether any of the proposi- Ige of mourning” for 30 days, and often thought and spoke of their dead comrade with loving sorrow. Wbat more could they do ? How were they to know that Olay Freeman, who lad lived well, dressed well, spent freely and never borrowed, had died penniless? How were they to know that his widow and orphan stood alone to be earned led on two knapsacks laid le other, with a drum for table, Nelly took her supper—fres of milk and a few straw berries ; she enjoyed it thoroughly, but the men would talk: to her ' read, plenty o n'ries; she e at the men eoqrae she had to talk to them, and all her remarks beinig d admirinf [ow and orpha 1 , their bread A curious throng bad gathered in the hall. “Close that door 2” shouted the colonel. “Give me the child, West ervelt. She will be in convulsions and it was a touching sight to see the gray-bearded officer tenderly comfort ing the broken-hearted baby. He was the father of a little girl at home and had experience. Finally he set her down in a corner, quiet and content edly playing with his dress epaulets and gorget. “Oh, pitty, pittyl” cried she, and forget everything else for the moment. Then Westervelt told his story— how the little creature had run to him through the crowd and so probably saved bis life. He dwelt especially upon her calling him “papa.” “What’s her name, Westervelt ?’’ Little pitchers have big ears, also fluent flpS' 3he spoke up for herself. by two white, jeweled hands, untrained to produce aught more useful than Soufn Kensington embroidery, and imitation Haviland faience ? The jewels first, the hands afterward bad earned bread, and little beside, for nearly a year; but sickness came, and on the afternoon that Olay Free man’s “baby Nell\ had run onfc in the squalid street and lost herself looking for papa, Clay Freeman’s girl wife lay :ng in the meanest room of a mean lement house, attended only by a charitable physician and a good natured Irish washer-woman, her next-door neighbor; and while the child played with the colonel’s gorget, the mother died. They did not know this. So the col onel said softly—for though it was but a baby, he was a gentleman—“Strange how poverty-stricken the little thing looks! Freeman died well off, didn’t Nobody knew. Frelty as she was, she looked ragged, dirty, neglected. A strange feeling of self-reproach came ver them all. Wet little 1 the regiment.” Just then our poor little heroine began to cry. The glittering playthings bad lost their charm. She was lonely and wanted her mamma. She was hungry and wanted her supper. She had been naughty and knew it. So she wailed. They all gathered around her, greatly concerned, but decidedly help less. Even the colonel looked em barrassed. “Gentlemen, said he, “perhaps you had better be looking after your men. I shall be here, if anything new turns Westervelt, send Lewis here, will lers took the hint, sa- rted, spreading the to her; of hem, and al i loudly applaudec and admiringly repeated, she talked i great deal. So the supper took a long time to finish. At last with a little sigh of content ment she signified that she had enough. Lewis suggested bod. Bedding was scarce, but half a dozen settee made a mattress, a loosely- 5 a pillow, ooverieta. It bed, but it was the that night. s f lusbions made a mai rolled overcoat did duty and others served for was not much of a best in the armory that nigl Nelly was too sleepy even to w o n der a t such a funny crib, or think it Strange that she should go to bed all dressed; but when Lewis said, “Now, Nelly, go to sleep like a good little girl —till mamma comes,” she looked at him wonderingly — “must say my prayers first.” The room had 1 noisy enough with the jokes and laugb- of the men, but now every cap was Dod silent and reverent little voice was hushed. f the men, but nov md they stood silei the gentle little vo “Dood night, Lewis,” said she, and )ut up her little mouth for a kiss. He ler, outside you.” The of luted and di story as they went. Then the colonel tiptoed to his door and locked it. _He went to little Nellie, who by this time was fairly roaring. He kissed and soothed h e r; she stop ped roaring, and cried; then he took her in bis arms and walked u|$ and down, dandling her; she stopped cry ing and only sobbed. At las^ I am almost ashamed to say, his shoulder, high in It, I . h® . _ in the air, pranced her about the room until she laughed again. This was like papa. A knock. The colonel ^ent to the lat’s that ? I want nan in this regiment to be interei sd in her like a father, to often see her and to remember the lesson this sad business teaches us. My notion is this: Let the dues of every man in the regiment be in creased by $2 a year, with their consent, of course ; there’ll be about that, except t link it’s enough—to be nsi child. That will give her sure income, which cannot possibly fail, of nearly §2,000 a year. Let us adopt her as the child of the whole regiment, and -give her, not only money, but nine hundred fath- s to love her and look out for ir.” “The best plan, I think 1” spoke the colonel, and it was at once bdopted. \Westervelt h ing around among his brother offi- !, and now, laying a roll of bills ire the, colonel, he whispered something in his ear. “Thank you, W estervelt; I had ■gotten.” “Doctor,” said he, “y< I all feel about this, you do us all a favi mere question of money involved— will at the word ‘ march ’ step two paces to the front. Those who are not willing, stand fast. “March!” Tramp, tramp, tramp. As one man the whole regiment moved for- The colonel’s eye moistened. Perhaps that was the reason the line seemed a little unsteady. He knew what the men wanted. “In place—rest,” he commanded. “Three cheers for our little girl! Three cheers for the dau;ghter the regiment,” and how '’beer. “Bring her down, iroduce her,” they shouted. regularly on duty tliere came running up and no serious result followed the imprudence of displaying money in such company. George Matthews the son of James Matthews of the Buffalo Enpress, went with his bride to see if it was as bad as it had been described. The u of they, did Introduce her,” they shouted. . The colonel laughed and motioned to Lewis. He led Nelly by the hand to the colonel, who, as he stopped to kiss her, took his owniwn regimental regi from his coat and pinned it littleittle frock,ck, wheib on her poor l fro w he raised her high for all to one for all her coming life. “Cheer your fill, boys; no danger of fright ening those brave blue eyes that so proudly down your line. 3 yours by birth, as _ ion—the child of tl She'knows it and feels it as well as ihe regiment. yoi is < good night to de gemmen, Miss Nelly.” “Dood night, ev’ybody,” she murmured sleepily. “Good night, little one,” they baby! good night, jr replied, each using his own home formula. The child’s blu< turned her face eyes closed, she ti from the light anc with fatigue and instantly was sounc md, worn out at last almost stautly was sound asleep. The men still lingered, watching the pretty sight, and Lewis had to say: “Gemmen, must ask you to go now. 3 ut de gas out. Colonel’s Got to put de gas orders, gemmen!” So they left at last, but some one struck up “How Can I Bear to Leave Thee 2” All joined in, and softly and sweetly the beautiful harmony floated through the sounding halls, as the men away. Noise enough and went quietly to spare there was in the armory that ;bt,ht, butut in thehe darkened roomom whiere nig b in t darkened ro wh Nelly slept, watched by faithful Lewis, all was still, while in the hall paced a colonel’s to warn away intruders and cheek all r might disturb her slumbers. all noise thal So, sai warm, guarded like a princess, the little orphan waif dreamed away the dark hours before dawn. The colonel had adopted Lewis’s sensible suggestion. Reporters ■were numerous in the armory that 70U see how Now, will ? 'Will you ais money and make arrar for this poor lady’s funei m know how we would wish it to be. You see we may not be .able to leave our duty here to-day and to-morrow, and need a friend—will you oblige us T' “Indeed I will, colonel. Rely on me. Everything shall be as her dearest friends could wish. I sup pose I had better take the little girl h^lne with me until you can make your arrangements.” “I hate to lose her. She is like a sunbeam in the armory just now. But I suppose we can’t keep her very well. Go and fetch her, W< tervelt.” Just then an orderly from headquarters hastily entered, and saluting, handed a folded paper to the colonel. “Orders at last,” they all thought, and Westervelt paused at the door. The colonel hastily glanced ovei the paper. “Gentlemen,” said he, “we are ordered to form in readi ness to march out. We can expect further orders by 11. Get your men together; the assembly will be sounded in ten minutes.” The officers were hastening to their posts when Major Strong called out quickly : “One mom excuse me, colonel; can’t we this matter of the child before at once after they’re formed, i it settled ?” Baby though she is, one of you ; the regimental spirit is in her and will never leave hi “Bring her to us, colonel. Let have her.” The colonel felt strongly as any of them. He led her to the right of the regiment, 1 three mor, and the coL dipped. It was a great sight as s passed from man to man down that line. Even their discipline could ■ keep them in their places kissed her. They raised he high in their arms. Officers as d her up shouted: “Look len—ours, remember.” Ex citing it was, but she, through it all; kept her bright, steadfast lool 44 ccT 4.*.—-i. -.11 - T though; as tore her away her baby lips could ind no words—she only sighed softly, and then said: “Now me do tell mamma.” heart sank. fst group he came upon on the out skirts of the camp was a woman lying p on the bare stones with a young in her arms, while a man walked up and down beside her muttering and cursing to himself. These were re spectable looking people, Matthew says, though half clothed,and probably starving. He gave the man some sil ver, and waking the woman and taking the child in his arms the man -said, “Thank you, you are extremely kind,” told his wife to thank the lady; and started, actually running, to a stand near where hot coffee, bread, butter, etc., could be bought for a few pence. Matthews did not care to have bis ■wife see anything more, and stopped his itions. iveral days past a large num ber of the poor people have continued throughout the days in the square, fter having spent the night there. Hundreds of them are to be seen there now all day long. What they eat and how they live is a mystery. Folicemen are regularly detailed to patrol what- has become the recognized camping md of poverty. The inhabitants e made to keep close to thePaU >m Pali all day long at women stretched in theiir made to kee rail bounding ti I square. Froi is of spectators look down the curious sights— the high st Mall side o Mall hundi 8 curious sights d at full length sleep- lei rags, and men-quarreling over the tobacco or coppers occasionally thrown down. Last night there was unusual jollification and feasting in the camp- Men drove up ■with a wagon full of bread. The ■way in which it was seized and devoured showed plainly how great is the misery there. The colonel’s and get He gave her to Dr. Wentworth, saying : “I am afraid all this is very silly, doctor, and bad for Nelly; but I could not help it. Riot duty always rqakes the men a little wild, and she is so brave and pretty.” The doctor smiled. “No harm done, colonel. Lool at her—a perfect little Joan of Arc. I believe she’d go with you, and sr wince for the firing. Leave to me—and, colonel. I ’m not given to sentiment—but there’s my hand; and God bless you and your regiment.” At that moment the orders to march out were handed Col. Crai~ He thrust the paper tlu-ough 1 sword belt as he moved to the front and centre. All saw it, gues what it was and were just ready cheer again, when— ci; Pursuing the Mighty Dollar. The pursuit of the dollar is responsi ble for the wreck of countless lives. It makes young men old, and adds physical debility to the sorrows of old age. In the unceasing effort to obtain riches, the best objects of human exist*^ ence are driven out oi sight. Families are neglected, and the pleasures of home left untasted. In England, the prince merchant is content with what is gained by a few hours at the desk. The rest of his time is given to such enjoyment as his means may permit. He is enthusiastically devoted to his family, end in old age is as jolly as a sandboy ; sleeps well, eats almost too well, and is comparatively free from pains and aches. It is a fact that they did v „ tom has grown into habi^ and things without interest from the business point of view have no flavor. So long as good health remains, such slavery has its compensations; but, when the physical and mental condition will stand the strain no longer, the way to the end is gloomy and ■svretched, tho pains and aches arising from persistenit overwork embittering every momenlF to the last—BTerofei: ofMealth,
