FEARFUL THING IN WINTER
BOSTON, MASS, Jan. 17—Cheered by the faith of little "Jennie" Carpenter, the 7-year-old daughter of Capt. B. L. Carpenter, of a steamer whose name could not be learned, 117 passengers on board were brought through panic early this morning while the storm was at its height, to shore.
George H. Nebich, one of the passengers, told the following story to a COURIER reporter:
"About midnight we were crowded in the cabin, afraid to sleep on account of the storm. All were praying, as Capt. Carpenter, staggering down the stairs, cried: 'We are lost!' It was then that little 'Jennie,' his daughter, took him by his hand and asked him whether he did not believe in divine omnipresence. All the passengers kissed the little 'girlie' whose faith had so inspirited us."
The steamer, it was said at the office of the company owning her, would leave as usual to-night for Portland.
("Plain Language from Truthful James")
AH SIN, FAMED TONG MAN,
BESTS BARD AT CARD TILT
"Celestial" Gambler, Feigning Ignorance
of Euchre, Tricks Francis Bret Harte and
"Bill" Nye into Heavy Losses—Solons
to Probe Ochre Peril
SAN FRANCISCO, Aug. 3.—Francis B. Harte and E. W. Nye, a pair of local magazine writers, lost what is believed to be a large sum of money in a game of euchre played near the Bar-M mine this afternoon.
There had been, Harte alleged, a three-handed game of euchre participated in by Nye, a Chinaman named Ah Sin and himself. The Chinaman, Harte asserted, did not understand the game, but, Harte declared, smiled as he sat by the table with what Harte termed was a "smile that was childlike and bland."
Harte said that his feelings were shocked by the chicanery of Nye, but that the hands held by Ah Sin were unusual. Nye, maddened by the Chinaman's trickery, rushed at him, 24 packs of cards spilling from the tong-man's long sleeves. On his taper nails was found some wax.
The "Mongolian," Harte said, is peculiar.
Harte and Nye are thought to have lost a vast sum of money, as they are wealthy authors.
The legislature, it is said, will investigate the question of the menace to American card-players by the so-called Yellow peril.
("Excelsior")
DOG FINDS LAD
DEAD IN DRIFT
Unidentified Body of Young Traveler
Found by Faithful Hound Near
Small Alpine Village—White
Mantle His Snowy Shroud
ST. BERNARD, Sept. 12.—Early this morning a dog belonging to the St. Bernard Monastery discovered the body of a young man, half buried in the snow.
In his hand was clutched a flag with the word "Excelsior" printed on it.
It is thought that he passed through the village last night, bearing the banner, and that a young woman had offered him shelter, which he refused, having answered "Excelsior."
The police are working on the case.
("The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers")
PILGRIM DADS
LAND ON MASS.
COAST TOWN
Intrepid Band of Britons, Seeking
Faith's Pure Shrine, Reach
Rock-Bound Coast, Singing
Amid Storm
PROVINCETOWN, MASS, Dec. 21—Poking her nose through the fog, the ship Mayflower, of Southampton, Jones, Master, limped into port to-night.
On board were men with hoary hair and women with fearless eyes, 109 in all.
Asked why they had made the journey, they alleged that religious freedom was the goal they sought here.
The Mayflower carried a cargo of antique furniture.
Among those on board were William Bradford, M. Standish, Jno. Alden, Peregrine White, John Carver and others.
Steps are being taken to organize a society of Mayflower Descendants.
("The Bridge Of Sighs")
KINLESS YOUNG
WOMAN, WEARY,
TAKES OWN LIFE
Body of Girl Found in River
Tells Pitiful Story of
Homelessness and Lack of
Charity
LONDON, March 16.—The body of a young woman, her garments clinging like cerements, was found in the river late this afternoon.
In the entire city she had no home. There are, according to the police, no relatives.
The woman was young and slender and had auburn hair.
No cause has been assigned for the act.
Song of Synthetic Virility
Oh, some may sing of the surging sea, or chant of the raging main;
Or tell of the taffrail blown away by the raging hurricane.
With an oh, for the feel of the salt sea spray as it stipples the guffy's cheek!
And oh, for the sob of the creaking mast and the halyard's aching squeak!
And some may sing of the galley-foist, and some of the quadrireme,
And some of the day the xebec came and hit us abaft the beam.
Oh, some may sing of the girl in Kew that died for a sailor's love,
And some may sing of the surging sea, as I may have observed above.
Oh, some may long for the Open Road, or crave for the prairie breeze,
And some, o'ersick of the city's strain, may yearn for the whispering trees.
With an oh, for the rain to cool my face, and the wind to blow my hair!
And oh, for the trail to Joyous Garde, where I may find my fair!
And some may love to lie in the field in the stark and silent night,
The glistering dew for a coverlet and the moon and stars for light.
Let others sing of the soughing pines and the winds that rustle and roar,
And others long for the Open Road, as I may have remarked before.
Ay, some may sing of the bursting bomb and the screech of a screaming shell,
Or tell the tale of the cruel trench on the other side of hell.
And some may talk of the ten-mile hike in the dead of a winter night,
And others chaunt of the doughtie Kyng with mickle valour dight.
And some may long for the song of a child and the lullaby's fairy charm,
And others yearn for the crack of the bat and the wind of the pitcher's arm.
Oh, some have longed for this and that, and others have craved and yearned;
And they all may sing of whatever they like, as far as I'm concerned.