The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on August 1, 1894 · Page 7
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 7

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, August 1, 1894
Page 7
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l^QSTA, IOWA, WEDNESDAY, AttGtOT 1, 1804 r -TV-- •••"•ariri'''r!V;i'l»;ir;'jji.ii'T : -' : ;-•••.'"; f^ • ^->- ~ -... . f, . .. . ... .,...,. T , „.-.._ ., ,,.. , „....«.,»...7 ^_jt . T CHAPTER VII--(Contlnuod.) Kescuer and rescued app?arod to have noAknbwledg-e of each other. Molier had lost his« spectacles in his fall or his subsequent struggles, his hair was wetted down to h s head, and even Vivetta hardly recognized her recently submerged cousin; while the young man who had gone to his assistance was without hat and coat, and only bis comrades on the stern of the boat knaw who he was. Vivotte had only s-'en him in the water at a distance, and if she knew him did not .then recognize him. The young man bad hastened to the stern, rejoined h's companicnsand thera nmained unt.l the boat's return an hour latar, when he took a carriage and drove off in search of dry clothing. Vivettj had been tarribly startled by her cousin's disaster; and during the • ride from the boat to her home the time was spent in congratulations •upon Adolf s safe delivery from a xvatcry grave and vain endeavors to imagine who could have been his deliverer. "He is a noble follow, at least," •eaid Adolf. "Ho dld-not even wait for my thanks." "And mine, 1 ' added Vivetts. Adolf looked at her as closely us his uuspeetaaled eyes would permit, to learn what were the Old-,- Charley was .fortunately on iTront street when the stjamsr Pike arrived; went on board, met his nephew and escorted him to the new home, where ha was installe 1 in furnished rooms as one of the family. 'Themeeting between JMr. Adolf Molier and his cousin Vivette was not without some embarrassment to both. • She had n't expected to s^e in her •cousin a little man in spectacles; and lie certainly was surprised--to -find his Ohio cousin so •unquestionably handsome and accomplish d. She had just enough French in her make-up not to shock his prejud'ce, and fully enough American to startle him with her beauly. In facS, he was ciptivatad; and it did not take him long to decide that it wo uld make him very proud to be able to cirry her home to his friends and thi society of New Orleans, as his wedded, \yife. 'J he effect of the meeting upon Vivette was differant. She hud seen— and had; recently" frequently met—a certain/young 'gentleman whom -she could not avoid comparing with her bachelor cous'n; though she yet had •no suspic'on of her cousin's feelings toward herself. She treated Adolf with great kindness and due respect, which won him all the more because 'he saw plain enough it all came from her native goodness of h-sart, w.thout •the least tincture of the tender passion he was so anxious to awjk^n. Wolit-r was sharp enough SODU to ob aerve how mattars stood, and took occasion to have atalk withhisd.iughter. "You like your cousin, of course?" said he. seating himself near liar in her -own room. "He is very agreeable," replied Vivette. "And knows the world and good society, eh?" "He is certainly very intelligent, if I can determ nj. He is also polita, and I like him." "His family is rich; he is his father's only heir, a hundred thousand or more," "And so we cousins ara both sole heirs. Hut papa, you are worth more than a hundred thousand dolla s?" "You wouldn't marry a poor man, of course?" continued the father, without •attending to her question. "Why, my dear pupa! I am not at all thinking of marriage." p "But what if Adolf should be thinking of ma riage?' "I think it is most time he should, but—" "But be does think about marriage, a.nd with his wealthy and handsoma cousin.. Can t you sse that?" "He has never hinted such a thing to roe! I had not thought of sue'a a thing." "Think of just th it thing now," said the father, in tones wiiich she hud never before haurd from him. After a brief pausa Vivetts sa:d: "Am I to be compelled to marry, whether I wish it or not?" "ifyflti are my daughter in heart and du\; 'f^ submission—if you are my heir, y<iy|\M>l marry only where I approve."^ VI shall never marry wherj you dis- ^ppyove. I promise that. Do not press. this matter, my dear papa,, it irnes BO suddenly," "Very wail. Take your time. But hold you to your promise." Then seeing his datightsr appevred really t<> sull'er from tho discuss .on, he .gave her a kiss spying; "Theie, Vivette—you understand me. It i-i all fo/ my lave of you." And he aet'red. C Tiuit very morning Adolf had afeked him ii t lore would be any impropriety in his .seeking the haw 1 of During all this time since tne trial of Molier, and up to the arrival of Adolf from New Orleans, young Joseph-Gust made frequent calls, first at the "Broadway." and afterward tit the new house. He was not at all neglecting his ooportunities. But Vivette had returned to the academy of Mrs. Dewees, and had not corn- true feelings which prompted this honest and feeling expression of thanks for his delivery. But not even Levi's best gold-riinmed glasses would have enabled him to learn more tl\an her words expressed. "lie must have been a strong swimmer," said Vivette. "Yes; flue, strong, noble looking man; swam like a Sandwich islander." "Strange he did not wait to receive our thanks," said Vivette. "Do you know, Vivettsf those words, 'our thanks' give me delight? I can delay no longer, my dearest Vivette; I offer you my hand with my heart, which you already have. Be ,my wife —mine forever—and I know we shull be very happy." Then seeing her start, as if surprised, ho feared to have a reply at that moment, and added: "Not now, dearest Vivette, I do not press for an answer now. Tuke time to consider; and should you finally say ro, 1 had better have perished in the beautiful Ohio." ;'My dear cousin, I thank you for not pressing this offer now. 1 appreciate it, believe me. But you will not press it now?" "If you wish it, dear Vivette, I can wait; but my happiness and that of your father whom you love depend upon your answer." "And mine," said Vivette significantly. Adolf was perplexed and troubled at the tone of these words, which ex- •pfe'ssed more than had been intended; but he could only wait, and he resolved to abide the effect of time, and trust his fate. This was just what Vivette wished of all things. She did not wish to flatly refuse her cousin's offer and offend her father; and she knew from the first she should never accept it. Now &he could wait events without committing herself ia any way, !V ur l she felt relieved. The Gazette next morning gave a full account of the steamboat excursion, and of the accident to "Hon. Adolf Molier of New. Orleans," who had baen "so gallantly rescued by- Mr. Joseph Gust, a well-known and rising young lawyer of the city." Here was a complication! Vivette was first in the house to get hold of the Gazette; and unable to suppress her surprise and pleasure, she was proceeding with beaming face to show the paper to her father, when Adolf met her, saw her THE RKSCUK. happy face, and asked what delighted hers:). For a moment only she hesitated, then with har wonted ingenuous courage she handed the Gazette to Adolf and ran off to conceal her face. Without sitting down Adolf read the whola account of the excursion expecting to iind something pleasing until he ivad of his own rescue at the hands of his hated rival, Joseph Gust. Then he stamped in mad fury, swearing he woulJ rather have died in the water than to havJ been saved by that man! "Of course the scoundrel knew me and did it only to humiliate ine. 1 certainly did not know him without hat or coat —my glasses baing gone and my eyes full of water, and I hope he did not know me, for the sama reason. But it is cursed luck all round." Than he hurried off to confer- with Ola 1 Charley—he never thought of.goiug t ) Vivetta: thajkwas a little too much. But Old Chwrley was not a bit surprised. He had from the first sus- pectad from the account given by Adolf and Vivetta, brief as that was, that t'le rescuer was no other than "Joe Gust." "Plc-asa read that, uncle," aaid Adolf, handing the paper to Molier Senior, and pointing out the artiqlo in the Oa?ette. PJd'Charley Mojier read t&j whpje account deliberately I fee 8*W* / "When 1 observed that yoti were wet, when yon returned from' 1 the river excursion, neither you nor VJvette alluded to the matter in detail, ahd I faid no further attention to it after your brief statement, in which you snid nothing of Jce Gust." "I did not know the man. I had no suspicion it was that fallow." "But Adolf, doasn t t!i3 man who jumps into tho fiver and s.ives your life deserve some batter title than 'that fellow?' " •'But t believe he d'd it on purpose," replied Adolf with anger. "What do you propose to do about it?" "What should 1 do? That is just why I Crime to you for ndvioe." "What did you do about tho affair at the 'Broadway?' " "Treated it with the contempt it deserved. You saw the account in tho Gazette?" "Yes." "I did not challenge him—" "That was manly, and Ihonor you." "But only declined because I did not esteem him a gentleman. How could I fight the. fellow?" "Not very well; you are nearsighted and he can split a bullet on a knife-blade." Adolf winced. Those were the very reasons why he had not sent a challenge to Gust. But he said: "I wish I could find as good reasons for paying no attention to the affair on the river." "Of course you cannot. Your first act of self control will give you — at least in this latitude— a reputation for moral courage; your refusal to acknowledge your indebtedness for your life from what appears to have been an act of disinterested heroism will be esteemed as moral cowardice — if not something worse." "Why, uncle, do you forget that this man Gust is your daughter's suitor?" "1 do not forget it. It would be best for all if you could do so. Is not Vivette quite lovable?" "Indeed she is lovable, and lovely." "And you are jealous, ivud luita Mr, Gust for lovinjy one you say is both lovablu and lovely, You expect a good deal from human nature. Don t you know that Vivette has given ma her word she would never marry without, i my consent?" "Young girls arc sometimes carried off despite the father's protest." "You do not know Vivette, Adplf. She will keep her pledge though she die of a broken heart." "Bear with me, uncle; I will do anything in the matter which you may suggest — except—" "Why not call upon him like a man; offer him such thanks as would be proper, and so relieve your mind and save your reputation?" "I will do it, but not to-day." And Adolf retired. Then Old Charley Molier communed with one who never told his thoughts to others; he talked to himself. "Old Bon is right; honesty is the best policy — Get great moral courage — hasn't got very much— hundred thousand dollars— New Orleans society — Joe's a fine fellow— hasn't got a dollar — m'ght find his folks, some day- might be all right— look into the niat- ter if 'Dolf don't, succeed." And so on for ten minutes, when he took up the newspaper, loolseil quickly over it and went to his store below stairs. On the next day Adolf Molier found courage enough to call upon Joseph Gust as ho had promised to do. He was ushered into that gentleman's study-room at the house of his adopted father. Then he was met by -a series of surprises, lie was surprised at the room itself, its contents and arrangement. No study-room he. had ever seen surpassed it in comfort, good.taste, appropriati furnishings and appointments. Especially the library— chiefly the books of his adopted father, and which filled all one side— surprised him. He had expected only a few old law books. On the table at which Gust )ia,d just been. reading was a vase of choice flowers; that surprised him On the whole, he decided that the word fellow was not exactly an appropriate cognomen by which to designate Joseph Gust. But most of all was he surprised at tho polite and unem- barrassing tenor of his reception. "I did not desire the .sacrifice which has been made of a most natural reluctance, by which you have made this call, Mr. Molier. But I may be allowed tci say 1 properly appreciate the act itself," said -Mr. Gust with most manifest candor. '•Mr. Gust, after all which has passed, I at least can afford to be candid, and 1 know that you yourself are always so. I thank you as only one whoso life has been in jeopardy can do. Please believe me." "But your obligation is much less than you appear to imagine, Mr. Molier," said Gust. "I know I had saved a man, but what man was wholly unknown to me until I saw the morti- ing- paper. So you owe me 110 personal thunks, for there was nothing personal in my dive from the storu of the boat at the crj of 'JNian overboard.' And while I coii gratulate you upon your safe delivery, Mr. Molier, I could wish, for your sake, that you had been fortunate enough tr have found a rescue by other hands. Adolf Molier was now "betwixt two straits." His better nature prompted him to come to the lavel of Gust's own magnanimity and forgot all causes of difference; his jealousy prompted him to hesitate. But while he hesitated Gust decided for him. He said: (TO 1115 CONTINUKD.) Our Jrou Tho American locomotive is finding its way into every quarter of the globe. Chilu luib now given an order for twelve at a cobt of $1U().OUO. During the past two years we have seut 3/>o to South America and teveuty-iivp to Australia. Brazil, it would Reem, orders all the hpadn.-htg ufe$4 pa j|i$ ABOUND SOME REMINISCENCES VETERAMS. the tftst Atftn'« Mnitpriy.t Ont— "thtt Stfdnj-o Tliln? tln^tenect at nthole the Klfthb Lincoln Ults Shot- Loo's Chrlstmns Dinner. If nil tt n Cothcttteneaf "1 miy forget all of tha numerous femarkable and startling incidents that were a part of the pioneer development of the Pensylvania oil regions —and 1 have forgotten many of them, but there is one that is indelibly impressed upon my miiid as it no doubt is on tho mind of every surviving 1 participant in the doings of those lively days," said one of those old-timers. "Tho famous old Homestead well, where oil was struck in the early part of 1805, was the gusher that started the rush to Pitholo creek and brought into existence iti tho wilderness a city of 20,000 inhabitants almost as quickly as it could have been done by tho magic of -Aladdin's lamp .Tohn Wtlkoa Uooth \vis op a visit to the oil country about that time looking for investments, and ho paid $15,000 ior a one-thirteenth Interest in the Homestead well. O.I was soiling for $4 a barrel then, and tho Homestead was gushing hundreds of barrels a day. "When the news came in April that Lee had surrendered and that tho war was over, among tho hundreds of Hags that were float sd in Pithole as evidence of tho joy that was folt over tho great event was one from the top of tho derrick at tho Homestead well. When, quickly following thaso glad tidings, tho terrible news war* received of the assassination of President Lincoln, every one of thoso flags except one was lowered to half-mast as a mark of tho people's mourning- for the martyred chief. That ona flag was the one that had boon raised over tho Homestead well in rejoicing for the triumph of onr arms—tho well of which the president's assassin was part owner. Why was that flag unlowerod? Becausa on tho evening of April 14, 1805, at the very minute that Booth fired his fatal shot at tho president, an explosion as of a clap of thunder shook Pitholo City and angry flames instantly wrapped tho Homestead well from base to summit. When the sad news was received at Pitholo oi ! the death of President Lincoln, the town was overhung with a pall as black as night from the smoke that rose from the ruins of tho well that had poured money into tho assassin's hands; money, no doubt, which ho used in laying out, and perfecting his murderous plans. The flag that had floated from the derrick was consumed- with tho rest of the property. "Of course, matter-of-fact people at Pithole and elsewhere in the region said that the explosion that .made a consuming pillar of flro and a pall of smoka of tho Homestead well would have occurred just the same if the president had not been assassinated, but they were few compared with thoso who declared that tho coincidence was too startling and appalling to have been other than a visitation of tho wrath of Providence' against the wretched Booth. And there are a good many hard-headed folks who hold to that opinion still." r.eo'8 Christmas Dluiinr. As the fortune of war had favored his larder, through some skillful foraging of Ephraim, a negro, who was his faithful cook, body servant and waiter, General Lae invited several officers to dine with him on Christmas day, 180-1, says the Courier- Journal. Tho Ixieky recipients of the timely invitation were five in number, all officers of distinction, among thim Generals Longstroat, Gordon and Kor- shaw. They were all on time when the dinner wa-j called. It was served on a rough pine table, without a cover, in General Lee's weather- beaten tent.' It consisted -of boiled cabbage and eight or ten boiled sweet pototoes and a dish of rico cooked dry. The pioce de resistance, which indeed the guests found it hard to resist, was a small bit of fat bacon, about throb inches square, that lay on top of the large cabbage. Now, bacon was as rare in tho Confederate camp as are roses on tho northern hilltops in December. You can imagine, therefore, tho self-restraint exercised by each guest as he declined in turn a slice of- the delectable meat proffered by his host, who held the carving knife and fork ready to cut and help. It was observed that when the general, after helping to tho cabbages said to tho guest whose plate Ephraim held out, "Allow mo to help you to a slice of the bacon?" tho devoted old servitor's hand trembled greatly. In foot, he seemed to ba in a sttito of decided fright. The high military rank of tho guests would not account for his trepidation, for he daily served near a master who outranked thorn all. There was no splendor left iu tho tracery of faded gold lace on their battle-stained uniforms to dazzle his eyes and cause them to roll about and glance from bacon to guest, and from guost to bucou, as each answered the half-question with the words, "No, thank you, general." The discomposure of the serving mau was all the more striking from ita contrast with the serene, self-poised dignity of his mastsr. Dinner" over, tho general and his guests retired from the tent, but 4 as they passed out, General Leo turned and said in a low tone, ls Ephraim, we have anpthpr cabbage, have we w'lt?" "The answer was- "Yes. (sir, Ma^s Bob, we-'s got anuddor cabbage, sah," "Tfaeni JSphraim," &aid the geperaJ, "eav0 the piece of bacQ» $p cook with thett cabbage," jts boffow dat piede of bacon for „,.. Soaift' from a friend obor Rich- moil', ftnd I don' gib up raj parole of honor dat I'll gib him back dat same bacon what I borrow." The general Consented afc onco to the return of the bacon. thb tefferon Bftrfr tt Alt. * An old tnafl with silver hair was led Into tho cyclor.iftm of Oottysburgs in New York, by a bright-faced little miss in a jaunty gip»y hat attd dress, and sat down while she descrlbs.l to him the features of the picture in detail, occasionally asking her a question or shaking his head slowly, as If In doubt hs to the* accuracy of her account. She had described to him in her own way the onrush of Pickett's men and tho hnnd-to-htttul coiv fliet at the stono fence where the Pennsylvania veterans mot the charge of the Southerners, when he asked, "But whore's tlu artillery, Mag?" "Oh, you m.-an the big guns. They are over there on tha hill in a row." "All in n row?" he askod. "Yes," she replied. He shook his head, "Look round," said he. "Tliore 'must -bo'some moro that are not in line." "Yes," she said. "Thnro ara some down hore, but they a-ro all upsat and sejin to bo broken. I think they are burstod." "Is tint whore tho man are coming ovor the stono wall?" "Yes, grandpa." "Is there a grovo of trees?" "Yes, grandpa. It seems to be full of men, but tho smoke is so thick you can not soo them." "Oh, I can see them!" ho cried 1 . It was then notiood by several people who wcro listening to him that ho was blind. Tha littlo girl said: "Oh, no, grandpa,you can't see thura" "Yes I can," ho answored. "I can soo them very well, and tha broken cannon, too." The child looked at him with innocent surprise aa sho said: "Yon- are joki-jg now." "No, my dear," replied tho old mau. "No. That was the last thing I ovar saw on earth. There was a caisson exploded there just this sido of that fence, and that was tho last terrible picture I over saw for it was then I lost my eyesight, and [ have never got tho picture of it out of my mind." —American Tribune. When tho l.jmk MUII'H ftluiteroil Out. Whon tho last nun's rauitoroJ out, And his Ufa rtoull 1< o'or. When tha uchoo t of tho bjittlu Fill t.iie li ills of |;o:i.o n i more, When Hie siory of tho herom Who *av» nil to siivo tho hurl Will bo tro luurocl as tin rooord Of un actlr.n lir-tvo und ifruml, Nouo will theu ro tiio liib.jr, Nono wilt tntort ihra doubt Or tho v.iluo of th vt labor, When the last tuan'4 mustered out. Cunturlea rn'iy'prost'lh-column. •* noeuu will yot the •> Jory claim Due tho patriot aiU (.ho woldtor, Tnouyjh for otton bo OiOh n »mo. As our unknown oomrulo* sleopln-f Whoro tho wild floword mutely wave No.v receive vicarious honor From tho land their fou he touavo, So will r so tho future s pi iudlt-i, 'J hou.h tho names are all left out. Prom this peaceful land united. Whon the last man's musterej out. Would It riot bo somotuin r rentier, Moro of credit to thi< laud, If .to every need-/sold or It would now extend a hand Whon each dollar thin efpoiUod Helps allevlatj distress Cau^iust all those .who revolve A just Kovorninent to bleds— 'J'hu? reducing w mt arid Borrow, , 1'hm dUpellln t care and doubt- That ti wait and irrunt h'c i honor Wheu tho last man .s mustero.i out —National Tribune A Fort on Wlieeia. Movable coast defenses in tho form of an armored railway train were the subject of reeont experimautj on a branch line of the London, Bright m & South Coast railway in England. Tho train consisted of an ordinary locomotive, two cars for the men and a specially constructed car with n turntable pivotid on tho center of its truck, upon which a forty-pound gun and gun carriag-a were mount id. The turntable was protected'ou thre-3'" sides by a steel plating 1 six feet high, and the gun was fired through an aperture in tho plating. Various devices for insuring the stability of the train against the recoil of tha gun were abandoned as unnecessary. Eleven rounds were fired seaward and in no case did the recoil do any disturbance of tho car upon which tho gun was mounted. Neither was any strain on tho track psrceptible. While the gun is in action the extra earn and tho angina will remain protected and concealed in a cutting, tho armored car and gun behig drawn out of action by means of u steel hawser. TliJre is no lim.t to tho thickness of tha protective armor around the gun, excepting the capacity of tho engine to draw the weight. Indeed, a whole battery could bo mounted in the manner described, thus constituting u veritable fort ou wheels. Thare ara of pourso drawbacks to the plan; the enemy might effect a landing and destroy tho track, but tho utility of the idea xmcler certain circumstances cannot be doubted. ADVICE Of A It is AN eXE&diSf fMAt BRING HBAutH, AM Will Atia Develop the f hr&nt ftft£ T$l i.i«it«»*_M*«te %%*«««• i^tt 4fr.4f... **i*j~^~*.i* . - '^0! lloantlfdl, Prolong Lite, Ahd Cuitl«ai* \'oae Musical la»te. A little five-year-old girl had been atU'iidiag- Sunday school for several woeks, learning weekly to repeat tha golden texts. A few days ago her mother had occasion to administer u severe reproof, wheu the little one looked up undismayed and s.owty and calmly observed: "The Lord is oil ray side; I will not fear." It was her golden text of tho Sunday previous. He -—I had my picture takop along with Noro—-any bu? St. llernard, you know. May 1 have tho pleasure of presenting you with acopy £ yho—• Oh, i guoss so, I always djd aduwa a hands.omo dgg. matter, Whistling for half an hdut* „. meals is the best possible aid digestion. Try It, weak-cheated* slender-throated sUtePs mine, and prorlt by my experience, I have ad 1 new fad to introduce, no novel theo* I'les to propagate. 1 am simply aax* ious, for the sake of to? Be», thai my own euriotW experlenoea as » whistler may booomo of sorvica to humanity. I bollevo they justify me in saylfig that tbe most udvanood cult of phy-* bloai training for women can offeP no exercise as t-asy, a» simple and aft beneficial as whistling. And by thl* I moan un exercise of tha muscles df the throat and lips,-,which produces nrtistlb and evon bettutJul results, while building up health. How shall you learn this art,which 1» as great an improvement on the shrilling of tho school boy as tho ) singing; of the prlma donna Ia on tho droning of the squaw f L will try to | explain, writes Mrs. AlL-e fcbaw. the famous whistler, in tho Philadel- I pliia Times. I All scientific and artistic vrbte- tling must be tho result of an expul-'" elon of air from tho luo » through tbe throat and Itpd, each treating and modulating in turn the air current started by the almost automatic contraction of our breathing ma- chinos. Ko artiat in whistling over draws tha breath In. Tho ttrjngbh necessary to proper results is gained only by breathing out long and, steadily like a singer. Pract ce this to Hocuro, first of all, the volume and strength of note desirable. I Then try phrasing. There will be nothing ludicrous iu the suggestion that them urn/ bo phrasing In wlilfrti- iiiET when once the study of the novel and useful diversion has passed the primary stage. Marchesl say» that what I do is "singing" in all that the technical definition- of sing- In jf requires. For lack of abettor word, wo must still call it »wh>i»U- jng." Hut it is far more than the publle understands by that word. And it is a means of prolonging life and alleviating su "ering which I sincerely hope to see popular! od at no distant date. If the ijhyslciaDS ia charge of hospitals for the treatment of ailments of the throat and'cheat would encourage their patient* to- try this methyl,, of ^interesting the mind, expanding the lungs* developing tbe muscles of t..e neck and bust and cultivating the musical taste, the results would, 1 um sure; prove surprising and gratifying. fciuch health as I havo had einoe I began this magnificent oxo.ciso- muat bo seen to be appreciated. My chest measure has increased! four inches, ray throat measure three inches and my lung ex.anoion five inches. The muscles of my,neck and of my face have hod a course of training which they could not have received-otherwise, not even from, a face nmsseu.->e, and my lung.) have become actually powerful Tho only physical ailments I ha e to fear are chap ed lips and a cough, and the I latter I am almost proof against. | To get tho full benefit of this pleasant exorcise, throw the bead ba:!k, fill tho lungs to their capacity, and then, with the lips and; throat mus Jes iu proper position, expel the air through the lips, liy and by the novice will Und herself or himself—for wh stliug is just as good e orc'se for a man as for a woman.— becoming weary of the monotone, • Variations will bo attempted, and after awhile the more delicate mod" .ulations of vocal trajmng. Now, wbilo it is 'true that only persons gifted with a "natural whistle" and a perfect ear for music cant become whistlers or tho i rat rank, and they are indeed very rare, it ia equally true that thero is no one who cannot attain a pleasing degree of exce lenoo and greatly profit ia so doing. To become aa artist fn» whistling requires a h«rj course of training and study of hours and hours, without the neglect of a day, Hut to achieve Gratifying &ue«esa one needs only perseverauce. No special oxerci e of the lips ia ' necessary, but they must have the greatest care, in learning bo trill the tongue ia necessarily used; ia another kind of trill, however, the }ii>s do the most work, j,\Jl begin* ners get^out of breath, but that is overcome by study, just the Banjo aa u singer learns to sing. My bruath at ti nos seoms to bo endl«jM— I can bold ray notes so long. It is simply apuliuution and fondness for my work that huva enabled mo to do this. 1 practice aad i nd that to blow and work the lungs often aad often is most benofieia 1 , 1 thoroughly enjo/ whistling. »nd am most pleased when I ara study* ing di.i cult music When I get very tired, so that tho muscles of my mouth ache, J know then tout I jtifl, leu nl»g my muaio. 1 take up w n§w, piece of music with a good professor iu singiug and with the piano,, anfl study every note quietly wnl thop« , OMtgbly until 1 got the drift «E it IH iny (Irst losson. Tuea it la work every day with tb.3 so/ue r , w; lessor until 1 get itlo» ned by heft^fe ,C-> of Kiu»w'e;l?e * q' A brftriau SjpoffQt'd $ coujjcfl a probably tfye

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