Excerpta.

Kaikoura Star, Volume XIV, Issue 734, 1 May 1894, Page 2

Excerpta.

The Fool’s Prayer.

(Manchester Times.)

The royal feast was done ; the king Sought some new sport to banish care, And to his jester cried, “ Sir Fool, Kneel now and make for us a prayer.” The jester doffed his cap and bells, And stood the mocking court before. They could not see the bitter smile Behind the painted grin he wore. He bowed his bead, and bent his knee Upon the monarch's silken stool. His pleading voice arose —“ Oh, Lord, Be merciful to me, a fool." “ ’Tis not by guilt the onward sweep Of truth and right, oh, Lord, we stay ; 'Tis by our follies that so long We hold the earth from Heaven away. “ These clumsy feet, still in the mire, Go crushing blossoms without end ; These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust Among the heartstrings of a friend. “ The ill-timed truth we might have kept— Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung ? The word we have not sense to say— Who knows how grandly it ' had rung ? “ Our faults no tenderness should ask ; The chastening stripes must cleanse them all ; But for our blunders—oh, in shame Before the eyes of Heaven we fall. “ Earth bears no balsam for mistakes ; Men crown the knave and scourge the tool That did their will ; but thou, oh, Lord, Be merciful to me, a fool.” * # sk * ♦ The room was hushed. In silence rose The king and sought his garden’s cool, And walked apart and murmured low, “ Be merciful to me, a fool.”

Saved by a Flag.

In Havana (Cuba) one evening there was a great row in the streets and a man was killed. Everyone ran away except an Englishman, who did not see why he should run off, but stopped to do what he could for the wounded man. The city was then, as it often was, under martial law. and in a few minutes a party of soldiers came up and walked the Englishman off. He was then and there tried by a sort of drum-head court martial and condemned to be shot the next morning at S o’clock. He managed to get the news conveyed to the English Consul, and at a quarter to 8 the next morning the Consul appeared in his coach and four, uniform, cocked hat, sword, and all orders on. The shooting party was drawn out, and the prisoner was there too. The Consul walked up to the officer commanding the party and demanded the life of his countryman. ‘ Very sorry,’ said the officer, * but I must carry out my orders,’ and he showed the warrant signed by the Governor. ‘ Well,’ replied the Consul, ‘ at least you’ll allow me to shake lianas with him before he dies.’ ‘ I can’t refuse that request,’said the officer; on which the Consul stepped up to his countryman, put his hand into his own breast, drew out a Union Jack, and, throwing it over the man, said : ‘ There now : fire, if yon dare !’ The officer was staggered, the matter was referred to the Governor, and the man’s life was saved.

The Debt was Fully Repaid.

About the middle of this century there was a terrible uprising among the Yucatan Indians. For a time they were able to wreak vengeance on their while conquerors, and their ferocity and cruelty were horrible. Even so dark a page of history as this, however, is not without its story of kindness and mercy between enemies. The town of I’cto was so situated in the Indian

territory that it was taken by the Indians and recaptured by the whites many times. Once, when it was in the hands of its rightful owners, a number of Indian prisoners were held. Less cruel than the savages, the whites killed only in battle; they allowed their prisoners to live. But provisions became more and more scarce in Peto, and the Indians were left to die of hunger.

One day Don Marcos Duarte, a wealthy inhabitant of the town, was passing the house where the Indians were, and stopped, shocked at the sight of miserable emaciated creature. 1 What are you doing?’ he said. ‘I am eating my shoes as you see/ was the reply, ‘I am starving to death. For 12 days we have had"almost no food. Most of my companions are dead, and the days of the rest are numbered.'

Don Marcos looked at the miserable survivors and said, ‘ You and they shall live, and he sent them food every dav, and finally procured their freedom.

Whatever were the rights of the question between Indians and whites in this case, human pity spoke first in bis heart.

Some time later Peto was captured by the Indians, and the inhabitants were massacred. Don Marcos with his wife and children awaited death on their knees in prayer. The head of the band, however, stationed sentinels around the house and gave this order. • Not a hair of the head of this man or his family is to be touched on pain of death.’ The family of Duarte was the only one that was spared. The Indian who had inspirited the pity of Don Marcos was paying his debt. Twenty years afterwards, in a successful uprising, the Indians sacked a number of villages and country houses. They retreated loaded with spoil and dragging with them many household servants, of whom they intended to make slaves. The chief of the expedition asked one of them the name of his master. ‘ Don Marcos Duarte,’ be replied. The chief immediately called a halt. ‘ How many men belong to Don Marcos ?’ he - ' asked. ‘ Twenty-four,’ replied the man to whom he had spoken. ‘Name them,’ said the chief. Having collected the 24 men, he returned io them the spoil which had come from the Duarte house, and said ‘Go home, friends you are free.’ It was the Indian once more paying his debt.

A New Locomotive Engine.

Mr Michael Reynolds, of Standdeford, near Wolverhampton, a very practical and enterprising engineer, has for a long time past been devoting his attention to the construction of a’’locomotive engine capable of propelling a train with ease ana safety at the speed of 100 miles an hour. This experimental engine is now almost completed, and it will' shortly make its trial trip on the Caledonian Railway. The engine has two funnels, a 10ft driving wheel, and a modification in the boiler arrangements as compared with those at present in use. Mr Reynolds claims for his invention a maximum of speed with a minimum of friction, and he believes that his engine will run from Glasgow to London in six hours without a stop, and with no more risk of accident than that which is run by the so-called ‘ expresses ’ now on the route. The coming experimental trip will be awaited with much interest.

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