OCR Text |
Show RECORD Of A TEXA9 DESPERADO. The Graves of Tlis Victims Were Seattere From Dodge City to Santa I'e. Tho man who told tho story between Iho puffs of his cigar was from Texas. "Clay Allison's life wa a tr3gio ro manco, " ho began. "Clay Allison was a desperado. He lived in tho Red rivej country in tho Panhandle. His trigger finger was busiest m tho early eighties. His record was 21. He boasted of it. Twenty-one dead men, whose graves were scattered from Dodge City to Santa San-ta FeJ I myself saw him kill Bill Chunk, a bad man, who shot people just for tho fun of seeing them fall. The rvro ! men had no cause for quarrel. Tbt j j were the prize killers of the same eeo I tion of the country. It was a spirit of j rivalry which made them swear to 6hoot each other on sight. Their friends bet on tho result of their first chance rencounter. They met one night at a crossroad inn in New Mexico and Bat dc at tables opposito each other, with their drawn six shooters resting on their laps beneath their napkins. A plato of oysters on the shell had just been sot before Chunk, when he dropped his hand in careless fashion and sent a ball at Allisioii beneath the table. Quick a a leap oi lightning Allison's gun replied re-plied A tiny red e-pot between Chunk's eyes marked where the bullet entered. The dead man rolled over on the table and was EtiL, with his face dowuwaid Lu the dish of oysters. "AllisAon was a large cattle owner. He went cn a drive to Kansas City once, and while there fell in love, mar. ried and took ti woman to his homo it the west to Ay p. A child was born to them a child whose face wa9 as beautiful beau-tiful as the face of a cherub, but whose poor little body was horribly deformed. Allison loved the child with tho great love of his passionate nature. In the babe's twisted and misshapen form his iuperstitious mind read a meaning a? significant as that of the message which the divino hand wrote on tho palace of the king of old in Babylon. God, he thought, had visited a curse upon him for his sins. Ho quit his wild ways. He drank no more. No man ever aftei the birth of his child fell before hi deadly pisiols Ha was eompletelj hU7ed. James, the 10-year-old son of John Hantaan, a farmer south of this city, had 6pinal meningitis one year ago and was left practically deaf. Several months ago he happened to place his hand on his mother s throat while she was talking and found ho could understand under-stand everything she said. He experi mented with others and found that tho n of touch in his case would maka up for the deficiency in hearing. He cultivated cul-tivated it and now is able to hold con versation by placing his hand upon tho throat of those he is talking with. He places the ball of the fingers upon thi larynx and understands perfectly. Anderson An-derson (Ind.) Dispatch. MILTON AND GLADSTONE. The British Statesman Challenges the Poet as a Translator of Horace. This is Milton's rendering of Horace, book 1, odo 5 (Quis gractlus Puer): What slender youth.bedewcd with liquid odora. Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave, Pyrrha? For whom bLnd'nt thou In wreaths thy golden Jjair, Plain in thy neatness? Oh, how oft shall he On faith and changed gods complain, and seal Ron'h with black winds and Btorms Unwonted (shall admire! ho now enjoys thee credulous, all gold, Who always vacant, always amiable Hopvs thee, of flattering gales Unmindful. Hapless they To whom thou untried seem'st fair I Me in my vow'd Picture tho sacred wall declares to have hung My dank and dropping weeds To tho stern god of sea. Mr. Gladstone, at the age of 85, thus renders these beautiful lines: What scented stripling, Pyrrha, woes thee no In pleasant grotto, all with roses fair? For whom those auburn trusses bindest thou " With simple care? Full oft shall he thine altered faith bewail. His altered gods, and his unwonted gaze Shall watch the waters darkening to the gale In wild amaze. Who now believing gloats on golden charms. Who hopes thco ever void, nnd ever khxS, Nor knows thy changeful heart nor the alanpf Of changeful wind. For mo let Neptune's temple wall declare "How Bafe escaped in votive offering, My dripping garments own, suspeuded there, Him ocean king. |