The Storyteller.

Gisborne Times, 17 October 1908, Page 2 (Supplement)

The Storyteller.

A SONG OF THE CITY.

(By Temple Bailey.)

Cecilia, coming out of the railroadstation, ran headlong into Billy Van Dorn

“Oh, Billy,” she . said, with her , eyes dancing, “they ' are making straight for the country—all of them —and they arc going to hunt the wildflower on its native heath, and transfix the birds with their opera-glasses, and quote pastoral poetry; and I am going to stay in town all 'summer, with no one for company but Aunt Sue and Patty-cat !” ■,

She stopped, breathless, bin so radiant with joy and youth that Billy found himself smiling with her. “Please explain,” ho demanded. “Who are headed for green fields, and why are you going to stay in town with your, aunt ?”

“I am staying in town to listen to the song of the city,” Cecilia explained, “and the five teachers who do cooperative housekeeping with me in winter are on their way to avoo nature—”

. “Look here !” Billy said colicitous]y. “Don’t you think you ought to go- too, Cissy? You’ve never spenta summer in town, and it’s an awfully warm proposition.’*

“Yon always spend your summers here, don’t you ”

“Yes, blit that is different. Most Pelotain do. • Taluuc, py were out in the city street

about' them. _ “Well, I just couldn’t go witli that bunch,” Cecilia said inelegantly. “1 love nature/you know, .Billy—the waves on the beach; and sunsets over a stretch of prairie, and the wind ■■ in the forest, and all that; but I don’t love ’little poky boarding-houses, and mosquitoes, and running around in crowds to study birds. So I said Pd stay .at home witli Patty-cat and Aunt Sue.” .V

“Well,” Billy conmiehted, * five will have some good times' together,

Cissy.”

'■ A little pink flush came into Cecilia’s blieeks. “I am not sure,” she said, ’ “that—that Elizabeth would care to have'you come here very often when she is out of town.’ V “Oh!” Billy’s tone was blank. “I don’t think she’d care, Cecilia.” “I shouldn’t care,” Cecilia emphasized, “if I, were engaged to a man—iI shouldn’t care to have him going to places with another girl—” “But- you .and I are such old friends,” Billy protested. ' . ." r - Ceciha- flashed a frank .smile at him. “Indeed we are,” she said heartily ? nd we’re always going to bo that. But if we were seen much .together, ' people -would talk—and we caii’t have that’, Billy.” ' “Oh, hang people !”-Billy said.' “But we can.’t hang them,” Cecilia told him cheerfully. “No, you can’t come, Billy. I’m sorry, but- I’m afraid it wouldn’t do.” - ; - .. • But Billy did come. “With Elizabeth’s permission,” was his announcement as he sauntered up the cool stone steps of the big apartment-house, and found Cecilia in a low'wicker chair

on the balcony,-with Patty-cat 'pur- , ring comfortably on the broad balustrade, and with Aunt Sue just inside the lace curtains, out pf, the. night air.

v “In Elizabeth’s la s t letter,” Billy proceeded to explain, as he dropped , into another-low chair opposite Cecilia, “she as'ked if there were any girls she knew in town. If there were, ... - s he told me to ask one of them to- go - with me to select a hat for her. A big hat with lots of pink roses— * •.. '“Oh, ‘ how lovely!” Cecilia said. • “I have never had a. pink rose hat, ; C and it will be a joy to see how I look ’ tn one. I’ll meet yon in the morning, and w'e will go to the best shops.” “Elizabeth seems to he cutting a ' - wide swath at the beach,” Billy confided. “Slitf doesn’t c-cein'to mind going about- with the other fellows, " Cissy £ so you shouldn’t 'object:; to’ my - '.•'‘coming;here,.”.:, - , ■. . -*•“ ' '-'Cecilia’s laugh rippled’. . ■ “It’s different,” she said evasively. “What do you think about Elizabeth’s doing it, Billy?” “Oh, I don’t care,” Biliy admitted - cheerfully, “if she lias a-good time. ‘Live and let live’ is my motto.?’ \ “I’m not, sure that it would be my ‘ motto,” Cecilia said. “I think I shouldn’t care to be with any one but the man—l loved—” For' a moment there was silence, and then Billy said slowly : “No, I don’t believe you would, \ . Cissy.” ‘ V ; r Thc -next morning, in the rooms of iS a fashionable milliner.. Cecilia tried u Oil.hats, while Billy looked and adinir-. ' V pel. ’There was one broad,, bbantifill” •- ' leghorn,, witli roses heaped about the - - ‘crown, which, set atop of Cebilia’s ‘. *. shining coiffure, was ravishing ' in. effect.. : :■ . “That’s the one!” Billy cried. “It's- ' a beauty, Cissy.” - .i. : Cecilia gazed .at herself lovingly?in|yfthe.mirror. “Billy, did you ever see liy. Lb’ mo-look go nice?” she demanded as l . the"’saleswoman left them for • a pioy . ' fuejut. ■

“Never,’-’ Billy said with emphasis. “You -are sweet enough to—”

He broke off abruptly as Cecilia’s cheeks flamed red. She fook off the rosy hat, aiid pinned iu its pi ace: the brown sailor that matched her quiet Suit. ;- ' v ,

“I hope Elizabeth will be plea'Si with’it,” she said rather stiffly as they came out of the store. “Tell her to write and let me 'know whether she likes it.” ’ • . v “I’ll come and tell you—” Billy began eagerly, but Cecilia interrupted him. ■ ’ " ' ‘

“No,” she said. “No, I don’t want you to come auy more, Billy.” “Was it what I said in. there?” Billy asked her. “Was it what I said about your being sweet enough to—?” - .... -

Cecilia’s head was held high.. “It wasn’t, what you said,” she italicized, as she bailed a -car at the corner. “It was the;way" you said it, Billy.”

Eor a. Aveelc after that Cecilia sat on the little stone balcony with Pattycat for company, for Aunt Sue indulged in after-dinner naps and ax as useless for purposes of conversation. And on the seventh day, ha\ r ing listened to the ceaseless song\of the city, the far-aAvay hum of traffic, the Avhirr of the wires overhead, the Avail of AA rhistlcs in the distance, she eaid to the emerald-eyed feline: “Patty-cat, in all the city nobody cares—”

Patty-cat arched her back under the caressing hand. Cecilia lifted her to her lap,-and the little creature cuddled, against her white goAvn. Ami, presently, something bright and shining fell oil .Patty-cat’-s dark fur, and Cecilia Avliispered again, this time with a little eob:

‘Tn'all the big city nobody cares, Patty-cat 1” ■ ' , Down the street there Avas the sound of a quick step. Patty-cat raised her head, and Cecilia peeped oA'er he. balustrade, and there, seen plainly in the Avliite .path of tljp electric .lights, was Billy, carrying himself jauntily, and bearing in liis strong right hand a band-box.

'“Again with Elizabeth’s permission,’’ he announced, as he set the bandbox carefully, on the balustrade and ebook .hands Avitli Cecilia. - “Didn’t she like the hat?” Cecilia questioned anxiously.. .

“She did not like the. hat,”- Billy responded..- ; -.“Why not?” ■ J “There’s a note in the box,” BiTiy' told her, “that will give her reasons.” His hand's trembled a little as tyg untied the string. He seemed strangely excited. “There!” he raid, when at last the box was opened, “Tloere’s Elizabeth’s note. Itead it, Cissy, .and tell me.the answer.”

“It’s too dark to see o_ut here,” Cecilia said. “We-will go in with Aunt Sue.” 1 _ '•

“Wh Avill ot go with Aunt Sue/’' Billy decided’ imperially. • “I’ll light a couple of matches, Cissy. It isn’t long.” - • ‘ And, by the uncertain glare of the lights in Billy’s nervous fingers, Cissy read: _

Cecilia, \ Darling: Billyh brought tlie hat 1 It’s a

beauty,.but I don’t look well in it, ... and Billy says you are a dream w-hen ?you have it on, so I am going to bequeath it to you. And.l am going to bequeath something - _ something that I value, but which . I cannot wear with the grace that you can; and the Something is—- . Billy. ' ■ . Cissy, dear, won’t you make him happy and' me happy? Our engagement was such a mistake, and we. both found at out a long time • ago. Indeed, wc knew it when our - families made the match; but, then,

neither of ns loved any one else

This summer I found-—the only man T —and I knew oven before that that Billy had found the only girl ; and when he told me how you looked in the rose hat I knew it was you. %; I am going to be married quietly

on .the .29tli —-and won’t you come -up and wear iv while gown and the rose hat and be 1113- bridesmaid? Hilly will be best man. Always devotedly, ELIZABETH.

- “And now,” Billy demanded eagerly'’, as tlio last match went out, “will you wear- the hat?” “I—l must think it over.”

“Wl}y think?” Billy argued. “Why not’ .accept both legacies.on the spot?” He lifted the hat carefully from the box. “Let ine put it on you, Cissy,” lie pleaded, and with a little laugh she acquiesced.

And when lie had crowned her with it, his hands made a frame foivher flushed face. •,/' ‘ *

' “And now,” he petitioned, “may I finish that sentence?”- . •••

, .“Wluit .sentence ?”-‘she .asked demurely. ;. t • A '' '

“That you are sweet enough to—kiss!” ’ _

And as her happy eyes answered him, ho bent his head to Iters.-

PEPPINA?

'■ (By Joseph Foil in ck.)

Throe years had passed since Phillipo spent tb.o carnival season in his homo city of Venico. At that time ho was still a happy young fellow who could see nothing in lifo but ono continuous round of pleasure and who, like most children of tlio sunny south, refused to believo that anything could happen to mar his happiness.

It was on one of the evenings of - the carnival that Phillipo for the first time saAV Peppina amidst a crov'd of admirers. She treated them all -alike, Avas friondly and kind to all of them, gave each one a friendly smile and a few words of thanks, but did not lose her heart to any. Among all the young fellows who had met her there was only ono avlio did not forget the beautiful Peppina o\ r er his Avine. Without knoAving it she had conquered his young heart by her cluinn and grace. : A

'Phillipo’s eyes saw -nothing but balls of fire and* they greAV very eloquent. But first when Peppina thanked him with her most pleasant smile he discovered that she spoke to him in a language he had known before, a language which was so passionate, so deep, that ho might have believed lie heard the great organ in the Church of St. Mako. But the more beautiful Peppina saw that she had made Phillipo fall in love Avith her the colder she got. Her young heart was still untouched.

Phillipo lived from that day- only a life of dreams in. Avhich he saw his adored Peppina walking at his side, as a beautiful angel with whom; he could talk and chat and whom he surrounded Avith love and affection. Every day'lio hoped that, he should find -lie had Avon her love, but every dav brought him only new torturo until he at- last lost his sunny humor and avoided meeting anyone. .

Then spring came, and Avith ib the love in Phillipo’s hearL grew stronger than ever. One morning he put on his best clothes, bought a bouquet of scarlet- fioAvers' and followed the sound of the bells to the church. Full of confidence in his good luck, he waited outside on the stairs for Peppina to come out. Silently lie handed her the,bouquet and silently she took it from his hand. In silence they avalked through the crowd until they had come to a part of the city v here the streets were almost empty. Then she placed her hand on his arm and said: “Phillipo, I care more for you-than, for any of the others. But do not ask me to love you. I can never give you' the love you want.”

Phillipo’s eyes again saw nothing but fire, and it was as if the ground slid away beneath his feet as he whispered : “Then you mean to'say tliat you -love another ?” A sudden thought ran through Peppina’s brain. “Yes', Pliillipo,” she said, for she knew that he would then not propose to her again. ITe stopped and drew a deep sigh, then lie took her hand, kissed it, and turned away from her. /’■ “Forget me,” she begged, “or think of me. in the future only as a very good friend.” He did not dare look at her, but he still held her hand. She had been so much for him, that- even now he could think nothing' - but friendly thoughts of her. He loved her too much for his feelings to change even when liis hopes had been shattered. Then he said good-bye to her -and went away r silent in his great sorrow. Driven, by a spirit of restlessness, he went to -Germany, where he soon succeeded, and became known as a promising sculptor. . - ; Then three years passed and hot once, did Pliillipo see Peppina. T\ inter came and with the snow and ice there came to Pliillipo .. irresistible longings for his beautiful home in the south. When Philippo reached Venice the carnival was on and the streets were filled with people. He allowed himself to be carried along with the crowd, and, because it was already late in . the evening, he did -not go to the house where his mother ■and his only sister lived. y Pliillipo could not feel happy, in fact he felt; more miserable than ever*; more' miserable and more sad. Behind the mask of every girl who passed.him he -thought to meet Peppina, but every time he was disappointed and lie finally gave up all hope..'- ', , - ' wr He went into a large hall where a jolly crowd, were enjoying themselves, paused iat a table, 'ordered a bottle of chianti and sat down to look at the dancers who passed by'in graceful whirl.

The' thought that he was to see Peppina again came back to him and lie envied every young fellow dancing on tlio floor, because ho had his arm around, the waist of a girl. Suddenly there appeared in tho niiddlo of the crowd b'll front-of him a girl .whoso slender and graceful figure be thought be recognised immediately. He jumped to his feet and .•wanted to follow her, but before Hie had made up his mind to do so tho girl had disappeared. A' voice in his heart told him that this was indeed his adored Peppina. No other girl was as graceful as she, no other girl could- possibly •daiice as well; no other girl had such-beautiful eyes as lie ‘ had eoeii foot @0 wall as .

He, followed tlio dineefs with his eyes again and soon-the girl' appeared clinging to tlio arm of a young mau dressed as Pierrot, whom she seemed to loA r e, and who evidently considered her his own property. Suddenly tlio Pierrdt lifted his mask and wiped tlio, perspiration from his face. Phillipo had almost stopped breathing as he recognised tlio young man, Cesare, son of Todcsko, avlio m even Phillipo’s grandfather had SAvokf to kill. There was vendetta between the two families. Phillipo’s grandfather had sworn revenge against the Todesk is, and now Cesare was to be tlio victim. •. -

Noiselessly and cautiously. Phillipo sneaked along the Avail and waited at the entrance. From time to time his hand sought the sharp stiletto he carried after the fashion of all Italians. At last he saw that Peppina’s followers were ready to, break up. Then he rushed out, and once outside the building ho placed himself against the wall, drew,out his stiletto, and Avaited. He could hardly breathe, his eyes were shooting .fire now the -time had come for him to revenge the wrongs inflicted upon his grandfather. He must kill Cesare. .

A:t this moment the Pierrot appeared in the doorway, the young girl still clinging to his arm. Then a feeling of mighty hatred came into Phillipo’s. heart and he greAv furious. A thought shot through his brain: “Why should he kill Cesare? No, he would kill Peppina. It would be too -merciful to him to kill him, and lie would suffer much mere if he killed his beloved.” .• -

“Peppina ! Peppina!” ho shouted, and rushed toAvards the girl, who fell to the ground, her heart; pierced by.. Phillipo’s stiletto.” The people standing around Avere seized Avitli terror and, although Phillipo stood as dazed, no one made an effort to hold him. He bent down over tho body and tore the mask away from tlio face. Then a cry rang out as/lic discovered that the girl he had killed Avas /not Peppina, but liis OAvn sister.

Before the crowd standing around had recovered from their terror, Phillipo elbowed, his way out of the throng, crossed the street, and jumped into the Avaier.

The body of the girl who had left her : home happy at tlio* thought of soon becoming the means of ending the feud 'between Hie two families, aa-js brought home to her mother. •' The next day the old, broken-heart-ed woman was called to visit the morgue to seo if Hie young man who had been found drowned in one -of the canals in the morning, was really her son, whom she still believed to be in Berlin, the big, strange city Avhere they have another kind of money- and another kind of postage stamps.

CAUGHT IN A FOREST FI RE. ; .* - ADVENTURES OF AN -EXPLORING PARTY FROM CATA- ■ ■':““■■' (MOUNT GAMP. ; (For Tlio “Times-Dernocrat.”) A ■Not a drop of rain had fallen lor) ■weeks and tlio kill farmers worem 1 despair. The" nastures were t urning I brown, although midsummer bail hardly arrived. The roads wove deep • with powdery white dust. Even in the wopcls* especially on the lull tops* tlio dampness, which is nearly always preserved by the thick branches, had been sucked up b} r the sun and, the * dead leaves were as dry as tinder The brooks and streams which had not entirely disappeared had shrunk so that there was scarcely water enough for the trout to hide themselves in. It was warm work climbing ‘lie hills under a sky that was always blue, but Bartley and Lois Finch ana their cousin Alexis had made up their •minds that they would explore certain places before of tlio summer, and of course /tßyy had to carry out their L il J tle A and Alexis were making'll map ot the surrounding country, putting in all the streams/ and tlio only way to find out whero the streams anil the mountains were was to go and, see them. Already they liad drawn the ■principal points and the larger watercourses, but much remained to bo filled-in. ’ ’ , There was a high peak with a rooky summit south of the valley in which they were spending the summer, it was known as Eagle Mountain, and the general belief was that a pair or ,eagles had always built their nest somewhere about the summit. 1-" as liidler than the hills which surrounded it, and the young explorers bcliev- -■ ed that from its top they would be able to' obtain information ' which ivoiilcl bo of great- -use to them iu their work upon the map. - ' '.■“We will take the map with us, _ said Bartley, who was more interested in it than his sister or liis cousin. “With field glasses wo shall he able to follow the courses of the streams to their headwaters, to say nothing of the roads.” This idea pleased the others, and having made their preparations they all three set off in the early morning so that they might escape the worst of : the heat in the middle of the day. Their path to the summit did not take them past Catamount Camp, where they, had already had several exciting adventures, but as they ascended they could made out the camp far up the hillside on their right. Thev examined it through the glasses,'which Bartley carried m their ■ case strapped across his shoulders, and everything seemed to be an good condition there. Lois-had charge of the map, winch was carefully rolled and tied with cords, while - Alexis carried a lig.it basket of luncheon. They had the forethought to provide themselves ,w>ith a canteen filled with water, knowing the improbability of finding any water on the parched crest of the mountain. Their road took them up ' 0, steen ravine along the dry bed of a brook* It'-grew fainter and fainter as they proceeded, and at the same , t.inpe the side of the mountain became more and more steep.- ■ Once or...twice they enne to branch roads, which compelled them to pause and consider which was the light way before o-oing further. They were fortunate enough not to go. astray'in the deeper woods, and at last,-very tired and hot- from their tramp, they found that the. trees were getting smaller and more scattered, go that they could o-et glimpses through them over the lower hills. They had left all trace of the road behind, and in fr<t they no longer needed it, as there was no possibility of missing the summit. «- wa s'hard work covering the last half iifilp of their' journey. The rocks ’ and ledges pere scantily hidden with pxrth, and the mp/>s and grasses 'which grew upon it had bepyi completely withered and dried so that their feet kept slipping back. Without the protection of the woods the heat was intense. They struggled bravely for-p-grd, however, until at. last they pto oil upon the great flat rock which capped The very highest point-of the mountain. A- strong, dry wundJient the tops of the saplings which found an insecure foothold in the crevices ot the'rocks and blew in their faces. “This is exactly what we wanted! jßartlev exclaimed, making haste -to ' - get out the field glasses. “How jfppall Catamount Hi-1 looks !” Lois said, • ' . • ~ - “There’s the windfall above the camp,” said Alexis.- “See, it goes almost to the top of the lull and it s as straight as an .arrow, \Ve must be sure to put that in the map. This windfall had been caused by, a iornaclo which , had shruck.' the hi.l avJula the. explorers were upon- an expedition there, and they had narrowly escaped its fury. 01 .couise the Jon-, pathway of fallen trees, which, it had left behind had a .particular interest for them, “ . . ' . Hartley had been sweeping the surrounding country through the glasses. “Wo shall have a lot to do, he said, removing them from liis eyes. 'V\ e had better find a shaded p,ace where the wind will npt blow us away and eat our luncheon.” -.- .“Shall I unroll the map?’ Lou asked, “Not yet” Bartley replied, “I doubt wither we shall be able tc l aouotF wj* . | own +j. ie prmcipa • do more than Y u " r “ • L points. We shall Rate to fill m the rest from our observation v*. . This sounded very businesslike anc Lois could not help .feeling proud o. her brother. It was usually Alexii “ who used the long words • '■Without much difficulty they dm

covered a shady spot on the she-itued side of the summit, where the wind ■ - could no# reach them and where it vX whs not quite so, hot as itwvag on ,tlie " very top. -Tliof £<*4* their .luncheon and found itJnd table there that they ; shpuld out what mM.eould see from the .side they were oaf before returning +o -tlie mo*j? exposed^outlook". They were / jiuichlv iab?f»rbed in this work, and ' their attention was so. occupied with it that they toot: no notice, of anything, clsb until Alexis suddenly exclann- ' vd ‘ : ‘Ho^-dark -it’s, geftihgj We Jiaf] -- better bf thinking of Parting are clouds ! ’’' Lios said, pointing to the sky. I reul.ly believe , Jt ßSy fookS'in the, direction shp "tjoThat’s" not- a cloud !” .-X-fe cried in alarm-y “That's - smoke ! There sui ’ fire, somewhere on , tno other side pc the mountain !” . • .•" <<Tf tit’s in the woods we will nave fby. the -road !” Skid

Alexis. ‘‘They’ll' bui like shavings.’!' I They rolled up the ip in haste and turned again to tlnimniit rock. Brief as the time had h the entire sky above - thorn was him by rushing rolls of .dark yellovinoke before they reached tlio rtfi Tho ' sun sliono through it like aboil red circle. . J ' “It must be an any big fire!” Bartley panted. > They were astonifeheclien they regained the rock to seefiat a transformation had taken p> since they had stood there two hoi before. Below them, half-way utho side of the mountain, there iva long ridge covered with a thick gith of trees. The-fire hail evidently Jrted on the lower slopes of this r;o. Fanned by the powerful wind a favored by the dryness of tho wis, it was creeping up the inounteido toward ■hem in a long line of Pie. The ralidity with which it /ad and ad;anccd was almost b»nd belief, '’hey watched it reach fi dry standiig trunk of a tree, wJi seemed in •In instant to burst intire from its pots to its topmost brill. In anoUcr moment the leapiibnc of ilamcs. lid left its victim farehind. The Stirling drifts of smoke-came rapidly more dense. Front eh ind them sht- red glerfms and flics and the rbr of tho flames railed with the ensiling of falling log The forest wa being devoured Inyo their eyes asUiough by an angrypnst-cr. They sted for some momenttascinated by themagnificent spectac ■ Tey did not fully repo their dangeruntil a puff of hofnioke swerved ward and enveicd them in its silling folds. For aicment they eoul no longer see fie another. Bar.ey grasped Lois jr.lie arm and draged. her towards tlfither ‘side of the pole with the ideal -retreating to to -shelter where tly had. eaten theiiluncheon. Alexi|camo close behii them. j A Th’ found them.selvojut of reach of tli smoke when, thepassed over the smmit, but the eire country was k!dim by if-and fy were cut off fro the rest of rhebrld as comp let el ys though they It been above the c-Uls. ,- - - l ' ... “Wit shall wo do?-Lois cried, gaspimfor breath. ! , A blur of tho boys ready. It- was evident fit they must do southing without re loss of a niomem but wlfat? fey glanced this wound thaty seekg some path of esca:-' .-t ? z' “I hie it!” ' Barlf>-shouted.. “Come fh me and lcc] close.” -•The ' oens' did not k him what liis planlas. It- was oar'that they were diitly in the pi of the fire and tli a the flamcs-mi sweep over the crestf the mount;i very soon. They pred close afte Bartley. He made bis-ay as quick as. possible along theide of the lountain top until thoymerged fromlieir shelter' and wereyposed once fibre to the smoke-ladi wind. Tliorhe stopped, drew froitiia'pocket to matchbox which he ways ca’rriei when they went on efiditions, stick a match and up pi it if to a jjtch of dry grass. ThUames • cauit, flickered in the winfind began to creep forward. ; ! “What- o lie be alxit?”. Alexis said. “Weliall be siSi-ounded by lire!”" H. -a 1 : _■ .. ; B irtloy if no'atteiion to liiin, .but as soon; he saw tlit the blaze had started tmoved onpid rejic-ated liis .tended the-1 of fires .lr some distance.' By f time lie. Returned *o the place w|j he hadaghted tlio first 1 match flames fad gained headway andore sweeing away from .them u u the. g.ie of the mountain. \ - i “Oh, Bartl avliy id you do that?” Lois led, ferried at the sight of the \ betwee them and home. V v “So that "‘night live a .place where we slntiiof bednirned up when'the othere ge'ts ;ere,” Bartley. replied, pfing tof the black space which .thro haliacl started was leaving infs .'.-wire. “There will be'-nothihgft toiburn there. I only hop>e that fire fill burn fast enough.” f , 1 "■,. Alexis, and L ijndratood phis idea, and they r, in&ed, that it offered t v he onlyle offiafety. The new fire sccmcdly slbv in its progress when cornd' f» the other, but it gatheredlngtJr as it went, and the l)laclcer<;p a€G behind it kept len.gtheningi widening. But mcaiivv'lvile the t fi re was close upon them. • The,ko was choking and the air wcllff with hot cinders which had bwhifled upward in the draught. ventured upon the cleared space.Tq them, advancing cautiously an'c.pin'g upon the bare rocks as mu| they could:so as to avoid the |ering 'embers. They‘reached a- fid. rock and. crouched downf tjoj’s shielding Lois as well as tt-ould between them. If was imtoje to advaijce further. "f “ Behind them ffro rushed with a roar to ‘the ‘t o p the mountain, . sending, long|ue s of flame high into the air. hnlapped and roared for more .p. Down, they; swept until they ififf the blackened space; but afidgo they divided like the currefi. hiver when it reached an island| j n another moment they had swe lS t on either 1 rdde, join ing; the v/g- fire androaring on with it- doV e s lope'. > “We are safe!” A exclaimed. , “Good for you, Ba-ffij : ; It was true. sa fe, hut ’ they found themselves, e midst of i a, smoking ruin, which ve j*y diffe-

rent from the scene ] t ad met their eyes when They fi.ached t]io summit. And it -wa’sj.into the night before . they met “ the res'cue parties wlr.cli'Tiad G - U t in. search of them, and “onduetdd home hv-roundabout i n The light of.'the fire, which *tiH burning among rt|>e hills, in© •of the efforts of 'hundreds of T v ho had turned* out to fight it. |■

! CEC IL R HODEC’S GRAVE.' ! ' EMPIRE BUILDER’S TOMB | GUARDED BY MATABELES. i .' ‘.(By Frank G,. .. Carpenter - , in flic Chicago “Sunday Tribune.”) - : Bulawayo, South Africa, June 29. Tlio great African statesman lies buried in low mountains far off from an.\ liumau set'uemont. He selected as Ills tomb a. formation fitted for the i grave of a god; and the way to I takes one for thirty miles' through a | fertile valley, the most of which i; , comprised in a gi’eat estate; which Mr, j Rhodes owned and which is still hell in his name. It was up this valley wo went or ; our way to tho tomb. The country f but little different now from what 11 ! was wflen Livingstone, first annouticcc ! its existence to white anon. It con- | sists of a veldt which stretches on anil !on as far as the eye can reach. The ! most of it is. covered with grass, > poij tod hero and there with a scanty ! growth of .thorny brush. • Thcro art | many native villages along the road i< .( the tomb and all tlio- way out. on the 1 veldt are patches of cultivated lands. These are the farms of the natives. : Some are not as big' as a bed quilt, ’ and the largest contains only four or j five acres. They arc planted . with ' millet and Indian corn. They have ne fence around them ?md they Bland right out in the wilds. "Cecil Rhodes gave directions, that the natives should have free any of liis unused lands, and they, are charged no mere now than when the whole country belonged to them. OOM JAAHN AND "RHODES. One'of the villages we visited was ■ that of a famous native chief, who led in the rebellion which resulted in the loss of Matab'eleland to the natives. This was Oom Jaahn. Ho is now an old man, but still has a great respect for the man who conquered him. In- '■ deed, he is so afraid of Cecil Rhodes’ , ghost that ho will not go to hjs | grave for fear' his spirit may be [ .hovering about-it. Not long ago the ! manager of the Rhodes estate here I tokl Com Jaahn that he would give him a horse and a now saddle and bridle if he would . travel over, the twenty miles between - here and the MatOpos Hills and look at the Rhodes indnmhent. The man replied that, ho did not., want Cecil Rhodes to haunt him for tho rest- of liis‘file, and that he believed that . .it. was best to let dead men lie. Nevertheless, Oom .Jaahn was a famoits warrior, and .'during Ids prime was much feared. He fought well, but gradually came to respect tho English soldiers who conquered him. A short time ago he was asked what he thought, of Cecil J. Rhodes and his troops. He replied : “Those were the. men.” . v After this he stopped a moment and proceeded *. ~ “Those were men of.linen,,. And, he concluded, “their fathers were men before them;” , TOMB-CUT OUT OF GRANITE. M'e drove The automobile right into the hills" anu wound our way among the boulders to the foot of urn rocky 'mass which the great African hero ! chose -as 'his last- resting place. It /is more than a mile in length, and it rise's above the valley for - hundreds oi feet. Like all the hills, it is com--pKKfH.I of 1-etl'granite and-is ground as smooth as a floor. With jstatr in hand I climbed up, bending hair double m places and sotting my ieet Hat lor leai 1 might slip. Tne view broadened at .every step, until at last on the top I was far above tire M a topes Hills, which extended up and flown the country as far as my eyes coulfl reach. . , ' On the summit the rock is smooth, forming a level space, which cove is perhaps aq muff or of ail acre. About this space laj’ a score ot the mighty boulders I have described, so placed; by nature tfiat they seem to. guard at. Right in the centre of tins space, on the summit, is the tomb ot Rhodes. It is the rock'itself. The grave was gouged out by mallet and cinsel, anfl the granite, was so hard that it took the niacons tea days to do the work. There was no blasting for -Tear that it might crack the rock,. but the square hole was dug out, bit by bit, until it .was deep enough to hold tl.o coffin. This was then covoreu wnh cement and a granite slab placed over it, the whole being hermetically,sealed. Upon the to 7 j of the slab there is now a bronze plate three feet wide anil five feet long, and-upon it is .engraved the simple words which Mr, Rhodes ordered Tor the monument. I hoy are; . “ . “Here lies the Remains of Cecil John - Rhodes.” - There, is, no date of birth or death, itor'any iiuscriptipn mentioning t' wonderful, work tliaf' Rhodes did for Houth ; Africa and Great Britain, the simplicity of , the .inoiiument adds to its grandeur, and the tact that-.it -lies out. here in, tlio' open, ill the wilds ot the vast country which he lias given tm the English-crown, neemed w ine monument enough. It was; impressive and as’ I looked at it-. 1. .involuntarily took off Ahy hat, for I seemed to be upon holy ground. GUARDED BY METABELES. As I cßmhod up the rocks and walked Here and there, about the grave I was followed by t.wo Matabelq boys/ T'hey made no noise as they slipped in. fheir harp feet around the mighty botilders >yhich guarded the tomb, aud it was only when 1 changed my course that I Was able. - to' see Them. They were, I am told, two> of the guards winch Oom Jaahn, the chief of whom -I have written, - keeps always here to. guard Rhodes tomb. They are Replaced by others Irom day to clay, so that'some-are ever present. 'Tlae.se guards say nothing to “ ors, but any man who wpuld dare to ; cut his namd upon the rocks or mutilate the .place would at once be \-- : ported to %e authorises at Bvilawayc and punished; At first .Oom Jaahn furnished the Toys .'free as a tribute to-Mho nieinory mf RhofleS; after a cimtom that .the -Matabelk : have- guatdnigAhpir ' After ■ awhile, however, the Kfloaes estate recognised theif value. _ as. protection against 'vandals and then a certain amount has-been. ic a u - Tarly'lpahi toythe ebony wai.ehers. _

( . ROMANCE OF[ ACETYLENE; , . Di- A. Sliadwell,. writing' on'“lndustrial Canada''”' I 'in' “The Times.” refer/ to tlie success'of Mr Thomas L. > Willson, of Ottawa,; in producing acetylene gas commercially. ' “Mr AV.ills son,”’ he says, “is a eon of Canadian soil; he was born in 1860 in the village of Brincetown, Oxford County, ) Ontario, lie showed his bent for invention as a hoy, anil while still at 1 the Hamilton Technical School he started put'to’make an arc light and dynamo ; this led him to experimental . work, to which lie subsequently de- ’ voted liis life. In 1882 he went to i New York,, in the employ of the Fuller Electrical Company, where he was engaged in electric lighting work. . There he remained for some years, at [ . tho saiuo time carrying on his own ex- | perimcnhal work. In ISBG lie completed a dynamo for electric (smelting on his own account; it was a 20-h.p. i macliiue, and sonic prelimiiuirv work was done with it in aluminium smelting. In 1891 he made a lirge dy- ■ lianu), weighing “2,4)00 lb., anil cai liable of producing currents of 2,C00" to 5,000 amperes, which, was in those days a remarkable achievement. It enabled electrical .smelling experi- , meats to be carried out on a larger [ sc ilo than had previously been possible. The machine was put in operation by water power at Spray, in Rockingham County, through the interest and help of a member of .Go- . vernor Mofeliead’s family. Then came one of those accidental disco- - vci'ics which have so often illuminated '. laboratory reee irch and led to great things. In the course of experimental work carried on'for the purpose of obtaining metallic calcium, Mr AVillson stumbled on calcium carbide and acetylene gas. He noticed a blackish powder produced in the, course of the experiments, and-absently threw some ■into water. It fizzed up,* and evolved a quantity of gas, to which lie hail-the curiosity! to apply a light, when it instantly' dared up. He saw at once that it must be carbide of calcium, and that the gas produced wys acetylene. This gas was first made in 1836 from potassium carbide by Edna u nil l)avv. and from.carbide of calcium in 1862 by AVohlcr; but tlieso were laboratory experiments, having no commercial significance. It was Mu A'Villson’s discovery that calcium carbide is formed when lime anil carbon are fused together in an electric furnace which led to tlio production of acetylene on a commercial scale, and gave the world a new lighting agent and a new industry. The same discovery was made about the same time by' Moissan in France, but Mr Willson's claim to indepenilent ic suits and to priority in developing the process i$ no longer disputed, it is not/ however, generally known that he is -a Canadian. As has so often been the in the history of science, the discoveVs*, though in a senso accidental, was'really the result of years of r>re! ini in ary experimental, work.. A o-riiat and growing industry his beefl based dm it. Over:, ±.'2.000,000 have been invested in carbide plants in Ca- ■ ’ naila and the United States... In tho former, the Ottawa Carbide Company I has at Ottawa a plant of T,6OU-h p., ! derived from the falls; the WjlLon i Carbide Company his one of 15,000r at St. Catherine's, in Ontario, with a capacity of extension to 25.000.li.p.; but by far the largest of all is being erected on the Saguinay River bv the same company. The works, wihich liave been in progress for several veins, are designed eventually to develop '250,000-h.p.. The position is admirably chosen, being only a short distance bv rail from Quebec and bj water from the Gulf of ißt. Lawrence. These works will be able, to produce and distribute carbine very cheaply and on an enormous scale, far 1 ugei than any others in existence, ■arc an example of the latent power available from water in Canada, llie electric current required tor fine lurn ices is derived from water power in all the works.'. The demand for acetylene for lighting purposes seems to be capable of indefinite expansion; its most familiar use is for cycle and motor lamps, but it ls also applied to. houses, railway trains Tail the Ca-. iiidian-Pacific trams are lighted with it), and other purposes.