MEMORIES OF ANNIE OAKLEY
THE BULLET COLLECTION OF FRANCIS JOSEPH,
EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA
A Day's Hunt in the Imperial Preserve With Bronco Charlie and
Kid Gabriel, and the Trophy She Brought Home
"DID you ever see
a bullet like that?"
The lady handed
me a mouldy leaden
relic that was near
ly cubical with jag
ged points like those
of a star jutting out from every
corner.
"Not in Pinehurst, recently.
Wherever did you get that
thing?"
"Or that?" she went on. The
second was more curious than the
first. It more nearly resembled
a hideous caricature of a buzz
saw than anything else the most
venomous little projectile ever in
ented. Obviously its one object
in life was to reach somebody's
aesophangus and whirl its mur
derous way thence through a tor
tured anatomy into an acute
appendix."
"I used to have a great many
more some bigger that a walnut,
and every shape under the sun
hollow ones that would explode,
and catycorned ones that were
supposed to waltz through the
system in drunken fury bullets
of the cubists school, and long
sharp pointed ones intended to
impale its victim."
"Who on earth used these
things ?"
"Everybody out. there. Napo
leon Bonaparte, the terrible Turk
the Pope, Catharine"
"Out where?"
Seeing that she was in for an
explanation Annie Oakley sug
gested we walk out to the gun
club, where she was going to lend
assistance to some ladies entered
for the Wesson prize on the pistol
range. And onthe way she con
tinued the story of the bullets.
IMPRESSIONS OF AN EMPEROR
Among the numberless memen
toes of her journeys presents
from princes and prizes for
world's championships, orders and
emblems and badges, souvenirs of
the plains and the deserts, strange
costumes and precious stones
she had forgotten about this curi
ous collection of man's early mur
derous inventions until the death
of Francis Joseph, the grand old
man of Austria was flashed over
the world.
Of all the rulers of Europe her
memory of him was the kindliest
and the saddest. Years ago he
was already a tragic monument
of the past the hero who had
outlived not one but a dozen five-
act melodramas. Of a simple and
friendly disposition, he had taken
a genuine and kindly interest in
the girl from America who could
outshoot his expert riflemen. The
stern fate of this- gentle old man
was indelibly impressed upon her
the first time she ever saw him.
It came about in this way. The
Baroness de Rothschild came to
see her in the camp, and asked
her to give an exhibition for the
benefit of the orphans of Vienna.
Of course she consented, and the
largest fete garden in the city was
filled to its capacity. Nothing
could compare with the appeal
made to the Austrian tempera
ment by the immortal combina
tion of the Royal orchestra, the
rich and everflowing Munchner
and the final display of the funda
mental military art, the orphans
were provided with a small for
tune. ROTHSCHILD'S BAG OF GOLD
The Baroness sent an envoy to
the camp with an embroidered
bag full of gold pieces, even as it
used to be done in the days of
Tallyrand. But Annie considered
that she was giving this party
such opportunities being the
greatest pleasures she had in her
unusual talent and so she re
turned the golden shower to the
children of the capitol.
The Baroness was of course
delighted, and among the treas
ures that Annie did keep she has
today an exquisite diamondbrooch
which that lady sent her in appre
ciation. (Continued on page seventeen)
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