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About Bohemia nugget. (Cottage Grove, Or.) 1899-1907 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 24, 1902)
CHAPTKIt I. Hdow, a great broad stretch of ocean, calm as death, slmnlirrinjr placidly be neath the Kim's hot rays; nltove. a sky of palest mure, flecked here and there by dainty masses of soft, fleecy clouds; and. far inland, a background of high hills, clothed with n tender foliage, a very baby leafdom, just bursting luto the fuller life. Toward the west the trees five way n little, letting a road be seen, that like a straight pale ribbon runs between the greenery for the space of quite a mile or no, and then reaches the small fishing vil lain where the simple folk of Glow-ring Destley toil from one year's end to the other. Mime In careless joy, some in cense less labor, some, alas! In cruel weeping, because of those "who will never come back to the town." Alone the white road, that gleams thirstily in the burning sunshine of this hot midday In June, a carriage Is crawl Ins with quite an aggravating slowness an antiquated vehicle of a type now al most unknown, but which once beyond doubt "cost money." The carriage, lieing an open one, enables the people as it passes through the village to see without undue trouble that the occupants of it arc two girls; both very young, both singular ly alike, though In distinctly different styles. "It is charming:" says the younger girl, with a little quick motion of the hand toward the sweeping bay, and the awak ening trees, and the other glories of the landscape. "All charming, far better than I ever dared hope for; and yet my mind misgives me. Vera." She turns a brilliant glance on her sis ter, full of terrible insinuations, and then laughs a little. Thus animated, she is a very pretty girl, half child, half woman, as fresh as the morning, and with eyes like stars. She lifts one slender black gloved hand, and placing it beneath her sister's chin, turns her face gently to her. Such a beautiful face! Very like the riante one beside It, yet unlike, too. There is a touch of sadness round the lovely lips, a mournful curve; indeed, a thought fulness too great for her years Is stamped on every feature. A tender, loving, yet strong soul shines through the earnest eyes, and when she smiles it is reluctant ly, as If smiles all her life had been for bidden to her. "Oh! that reminds me," said Miss Dy sart. "I quite forgot to tell you of It, but the day ' before we left Nice, Nell Stewart said that this cousin you speak of, if he does exist at all, at all events doep not do it-here."- 'Which" means?" ' "That either he won't, or can't, life with his father. Can't, Nell rather led uie to believe." "Can't It is, you may be sure," says the younger girl, restlessly. '.'Fancy a father whose son can't live with him! And yet, after all, virtuous astonishment on that score is rather out of place with us. I can imagine just such a father." "Well, never mind that," says Miss Dy sart, hastily. "Yes. Very good; let us then go from sire to uncle," says bcr sister with a lit tle shrug. "Do you think we shall gain much by the change? This old relative of ours is, perhaps, as delightful as we could wish him, and yet I wish father had not left us to his '.ender mercies." "Do not dwell on that," says Vera, with nervous baste; "do not seek tor faults In the inevitable. lie is all that is left us. You know the sudden decision arose out of a letter received by father from Uncle Gregory about a year ago. When father was was dying " She pauses abruptly, and a tremor shakes her last words The younger girl turns quickly to look at her. There is infinite love and com passion in her glance, but perhaps a little contempt, and certainly a little impa tience. "Do you know," she says, "it may seem heartless positively coarse, if you will but I do not think our father was a man to excite respect, much less love or regret, or " "Oh! it is better not to speak like that," interrupts Miss Dysart, in a low, shocked tone. "Don't do it, darling. I know what you mean, but " "And I know that I shall never forgive or forget the life he led you," says Grisel da, with a certain angry excitement. "Well, that is over!" says Miss Dysart, with a quick sigh, heavily Indrawn. "What vas this vendetta, this terrible lifelong quarrel that was Kept up be tween him and father with such monoton ous persistency?" "That had to do with our grandfather's will. I'apa was the eldest son, yet the property, was left to Uncie Gregory; and that for no reason at all. Naturally, papa was very angry about it, and accused Gregory of using undue Influence." ".lust so, and of course there is a good deal behind that you don't know. There always Is; nobody ever tells quite every thing. And besides Oh! Oh, Vera! Oh! what has happened?" Griselda clutches In an agonized fashion at the leather side of the crazy old chariot, which has toppled over to the left side and stands in a decidedly dissi pated position. The ancient driver, pre sumably asleep, hail let the horses wan der at their own sweet will, und they be ing old and sleepy, too, the result was that ihey had dragged two of the wheels up on 'a- steep bank und nearly capsized the carriage. "Oh, thank you," says Miss Dysart, loanlni'forward and addressing with earn est glahc-o and heightened color the young man who had risendescended, perhaps, sounds pleusanter and more orthodox like a,,g))od angel from somewhere the wood on their right, no doubt. A lislilng rod. IvIiik on the road where he had Hung it vi)en preparing for his Ignoble battle with those poor old horse, proclaims the fact tl?at he has been whipping the stream tliHt gleams here and there brljllautiy through the intrtloes of tho tws. "Oh. no," says ho. lifting Ills hat, "you mustn't thank me. It was really nothing. X'oor brutes, I think they were asleep; Ihey Ii Is hot. Isn't It?" This last he says hastily, ns It ashamed of his ani madversion on the age of the sorry cattle in question their horses, no doubt; and there is something wonderfully charming In the faint apologetic color that springs Info his cheeks. As he finishes speaking he looks at Griselda so hard that she feels it incumbent on her to return his glance and to say something. "Wo thought our last hour had come," she says, laughing softly, and looking at him a little shyly, but so prettily. "Hut for you. one cannot say where we should bo now." She bows to him, and so does he,r sis ter quite as graciously, and then the horses once more commence their snail like progress, grinding through the dusty road at the rate of three miles an hour. The little episode Is over; the young man settles his soft hat more firmly on his head, picks tip his rod, regards it anx iously to see that no harm has come to it. and disappears once more Into the shelter of the cool wood. Half an hour later they are at the en trance gate of Greycourt, and practically at their journey's end. Hoth girls, with an involuntary movement, crane their uecks out of the cnrrlage to get a first glimpse nt their future home, and then turn a dismayed glance on each other. Anything more dreary, more unfriendly, yet withal grand in its desolation, could hardly be seen. "Mow dark it is," says Griselda, n nervous thrill running through her. as they move onward beneath the shade of the mighty trees that clasp their tarnis between her and the glorious sky thus blotting it out. A sudden turn brings them within view of the house. A beautiful old house ap parently, of red brick, toned by age to a duller shade, with many gables, and over grown in parts by trailing Ivy, the leaves of which now glisten brightly in the even ing sunshine. The coachman, scrambling to the ground, bids them in a surly tone to alight. lie Is tired and cross, no doubt, by the unusual work of the day. And presently they find themselves on the threshold of the open hall door, hardly knowing what to do next. The shambling figure of a man about seventy, appeared presently from some dusky doorway, he waves to them to enter the room, and, shutting the door again behind them with a sharp haste, leaves them alone with their new relative, Gregory Dysart. CIIAPTKIt II. Vera, going quickly forward, moves to ward an nnnchair at the upper end of the room In which a figure is seated. She sees an old man, shrunken, enfeebled, with a face that is positively ghastly, be cause of its excessive pallor; a living corpse, save for two eyes that burn and gleam and glitter with an almost devilish brilliancy. "So you've come," he says, without making any attempt to rise from his chair. "Shut that door, will you? What a vile draught! And don't stand staring like that, it makes me nervous." Ills voice is cold, clear, freezing. It seems to the tired girls standing before him as if a breath of icy air had suddenly fallen Into the hot and stifling room. "Vera, I presume," says Mr. Dysart, holding out his lithe white hand to permit her to press it. "And you are Griselda? I need not ask what lunatic chose your names, as I was well acquainted with your mother many years ago." "I feel that I must think you at once. Uncle Gregory, for your kindness to us," says Miss Dysart, gravely, still standing. "Ay, ay. You acknowledge that," says he, quickly. "I have been your best friend, after all, eh?" "You have given us a home," continues Miss Dysart, in tones that tremble a lit tle. "Hut for you " "Yes, yes go on." He thrusts out his old miserly face as if athlrst for further words. "Hut for me you would both have been cast upon the world's highway, to live or die as chance dictated. To me, to me you are indebted for everything. You owe me much. Kaeh day you live you shall owe me more. I have befriend ed you; I have been the menus of saving you from starvation." If so corpse-like a face could show signs of excitement it shows it now, as he seeks to prove by word and gesture that he is their benefactor to an unlimited extent. The hateful emotion he betrays raises in Grisclda's breast feelings of repugnance and disgust. "I have consented to adopt you," he goes on presently, his cold voice now cut ting like a knife. "Hut do not expect much from me. It Is well to come to a proper understanding nt the start, and so save future argument. Honesty has made me poor. You have been, I benr, accustomed to lead u useless, luxurious existence. Your futher all h!s life kept up a most extravugunt menage, and, dying, left you paupers." He almost hisses out the last cruel word. Griselda stnrts to her feet. "The honosty of which you boast is not everything," she says, in a burning tone. "Let mo remind you that courtesy, too, has Its claims upon you." "Hah! The word pauper Is iinplenslng, it seems," says he, unmoved. "Hefore we quit this point, however, one lust word. You are beneath my roof; I shall expect you to conform to my rules. I see no one. I permit no one to enter my doors save my son. I will not have people spying out the nakedness of the land, and specu lating over what they are pleased to c-jll my eccentricities. They will have me rich, but I nm poor, poor, I tell you. Al ways remember that." Griseldn's foutures having settled them selves luto n rather alarming expression, Miss Dysart hurriedly breaks Into the conversation. "If you will permit us," she says, faint ly, "we should like to go to our rooms, to rost n little. Jt has been n long Journey ." Her uncle turn and touches the bell near him, and immediately, so Immedi ately as to suggest the idea that she has been applying her car to the kcyliolc, n woman enters. "You are singularly prompt," he says, with n lowering glance mid a sneer, "This Is Mrs. Grunch," turning to Vera, "my housekeeper. She will rco to your wants. Grunch, take these young ladles away. My nerves," with n shudder, "are all un strung to tho Inst pitch." Thus unceremoniously dismissed, Miss Dysart follows the housekeeper from the room, Griselda having preceded her. Through the huge dark hall and up the wide, moldy staircase they follow their guide, noting as they do so the decay that marks everything around. , She flings wide a door for the girls' to enter, and then abruptly departs without offering them word or glance. They are .thankful to be thus left alone, and In vi.luutarlly stand still and gate at each other. Vera Is very pale, and her breath Is coming rather lit Hilly from between her part nt Hps. "lie looks dying," she says, at last, speaking with n heavy sigh, and going nearer to Griselda, ns It unconsciously seeking a closer companionship. "Did you ever see such n face? Don't you think he Is djlng?" "Who can tell?" says Griselda. "I might think it, erhaps, but for bis eyes. They" she shudders "they look ns if they couldn't die. What terrible e)cs they are! and what a vile old man alto gether! Good henvens! how did he dure so to Insult ns! I told you, Vera" with rising excitement "I warned you that our coming here would be only for evil." A moment later a knock comes to the door. "Will jou be pleased to come down stairs or to have your tea here?" de mands the harsh voice of the housekeep er from the threshold. "Here" Is on Vera's lips, but Griselda, the bold, circumvents her. "Don n stairs." she says, coldly, "when we get some hot water, and when you scud a maid to help us to unpack our trunks." "There are no maids in this house," replies Mrs. Grunch. sullenly. "You must either attend to each other or let me help you." "No ninlds!" says Griselda. "None." briefly. "And my room? Oh Is this mine, or Miss Dysart's?" "lloth yours and Miss Dysart's; sorry If it ain't big enough," with a derisive glance round the huge, bare chamber. "You mean, we are to have but one room between us?" "Just that, miss. Neither more nor less. And good enough, too, for those as " "Leave the room," says Griselda, with a sudden, sharp Intonation, so unexpect ed, so withering, that the woman, after a surprised stare, turns and withdraws. CHAPTKU III. A few days later the girls are sitting in the garden. It is a beautiful day. Hveu through the eternal shadows that encompass the garden, and past' the thick yew hedge, the hot beams of the suu are stealing. "A day for gods and goddesses," cries Griselda, springing suddenly to her feet, and flinging far from her ou the green sward the musty volume she had purloin ed from the mustier library about an hour ago. "Perhaps I'll never come back. .The spirit of adventure is full upon me, and who knows what demons inhabit that un known wood? So, fare thee well, sweet, my love! and when you see me, expect me." She presses u sentimental kiss up on her sister's brow, averring that a "brow" Is the only applicable part of her for such a solemn occasion, and runs lightly down toward the hedge. She runs through one of the openings in the hedge, crosses the graveled path, and, mounting the parapet, looks over to examine the other side of the wall on which she stands, after which she com mences her descent. One little foot she slips into a convenient hole in it, and then the other into a hole lower down, and so on and on, until the six feet of wall are conquered and she reaches terra lirmi, and finds nothing between her and the desired cool of the lovely woods. With a merry heart she plunges into the dark, sweetly scented home of the giant trees, with a green, Boft pathway under her foot, and, though she knows It not, her world before her. It is an entrancing hour. She has stop ped short in the middle of a broad, green space encompassed by high hilts, though with an opening toward the west, when this uncomfortable conviction grows clear to her that she Is lost. She Is not of the nervous order, however, aud keeping a good heart looks hopefully around her. Far away over there, in the distance, stands a figure lightly lined against the massive trunk of a sycamore, that most unmistakably declares itself to be a miiti. His back Is turned to her, and he is bend ing over something, and, so fur ns she can judge thus remote from him, his clothing is considerably the worse for weur. A gamekeeper, perhaps, or a well, some thing or other of that sort. At all events the sight is welcome ns the early dew. i To lip continued.) To ii Poet. To learn poetry "for repetition" Is doubtless a menus of cultivating n knowledge of literature, but schoolboys sometimes regard the authors of iwoms learned as taskmasters mid personal Gnomic. This view Is amusingly ex pressed In u letter which was found among the papers of the venerable Gorman poet Oelbol. It was written to litm by some schoolboys of Lulicck, and Is signed "Karl Heckmunti, II. Klasse." The letter Is printed In Lit erature. After stating that two boys bail licoii Hogged Iwcause tliey could not learn Horr Gelbel's "Hopo of Spring," the letter reads as follows; Wo suppose you did not think of such things when you wrote the poem. The Herr Lohrur says It Is a very beautiful poem, but there are so many very beau tiful poems aud wo are obliged to learn tliein. Therefore wo beg and entreat you, esteemed Hurr Golbel, make no more beautiful poems. Aud to make It worse we bavo to learn tho biog raphy of ovury poet, what year ho wan born In, and what year ho died in. We write to you because you aro the only pout still living, aud wo wish you n very long life. Senator Mark Hannii wears as a watch charm a gold nugget which Is worth sovural hundred dollars. It was presented to him by a number of Muth odlst friends who reside In Cleveland, Ohio. AHOUTTJlKHIOaJUJMl MACHINE THAT PRODUCES THE MOVING PICTUHES llreut I'litiite for Them In Kiliicntlnii Some of the Use to Which iiicy May lie Put - How (lie l'llins Aro Mode. There is n great future for moving nlitiii-iM III iwliii-iithui. Tit Hut Insular child what more Impressive method of Information us to what a warship is like In alt Us majesty than (o show him one In motUmphniogrtiphy? The chil dren of tint (Ynti-iil Hlitlcs will bo shown waves dashing high upon tho strand, or rolling In gentle billows on the bathing bench where children are at play. There nre city children, too, who can be shown harvesting and hay ing scenes In the great West; cows, horses, and all animals, wild and tame. Aud for both rurul and urban young sters ,the uiutoscope will display the Indian, the Coiiamau, the Zulu all races of men mill their maimers and customs. To the geography class the uiutoscope will display the rapes, riv ers, cities, bays, towns aud historic buildings that heretofore have been but names to the bouk-duascd scholar. He will be shown the Mulr glacier In Its might v disintegration. Vesuvius In eruption, and Niagara's resistless llood. It will take the scholar up the Danube or down the Mississippi, or show 111 lit the wondrous panoramas of Loudon, New York. Paris. Hombay and Canton life. To the history class the niulo si'iitio will show the l-rent liersoilltgos of to day, as they lle and move aud have their being. What mote vital sug gestion of the war with Spam than tho two views or the Spanish warship Vis ea.va one showing her at 'anchor In New York harbor, her captain. In bitter Jest, training his cannon ou the city; the other ll battered wreck upon the beach of Santiago a few weeks later? Life-motion pictures are made with one type of camera and projected by two kinds of machines, 'l tie moving picture camera Is arranged so that, when turned bv a crank, either by haml or by an electric motor, the sensitized tllm passes behind the lens at a rate of 8'JO feet per minute. Hut. to iniike each picture, this tllm must come to a dead stop for oae-soventcenth part of a sec ond, during which time the shutter of iln i-niiicm oni'iis anil closes. Then III less than the hundredth part of a sec ond the 1 1 1 in moves down about two Inches. 11 ml tho nroccss Is repeated un til the picture Is finished. From one- half n minute to n minute Is siitllclent time to tuke ordinary scenes In life-motion. Five hundred or six hundred men marching eight abreast can pass at a u-niu n l-Ivimi nolnt In one minute: nnd so, In taking Ilfe-inotlon photographs of a parade, the operator of the camera turns on his machine only at the mo ment Important personages are passing. Pictures three minutes In length or longer are often taken, but experience has shown that long pictures on the blo graph grow tiresome. A developed blograph Him Is simply n ribbon of seuil-trnnsparciit celluloid three Inches wide, ou which nppeurs a succession of pictures. These pictures nre two Inches high and cover tho tllm to Its edges, while between each pic ture there Is n margin of one-sixteenth of an Inch. A plcture-lllm of a scene that has lusted n minute will bo three Inches wide and ;U!0 feet long. On It will be 1,81)0 separate photographs of the subject. The camera makes exposures at the rate of thirty distinct snap shots per Becond, and the blograph or mitto scope (by which names the two forms of reproducing apparatus are distin guished) exhibit them to spectators at the same rate of speed. The eye cannot detect where one picture Joins another, for they pass at the rate of 1,800 pic tures iter minute. Everybody's Maga zine. USES HEIRLOOM RECIPES. rlccrvt of Fine Cookery nt n New York Woman's Koxtuiirunt. The trio or lunehers that went Into the Utile home restnuraut out of curios ity lingered long to eat and praise. Such flavoring!" "Such seasoning!" they said to the proprietress. "Where did you get your recipes?" The smart little woman smiled In ap preciation of these little compliments. "You are right." she said. "In iittrlbu ting my success to the recipes. With out them I should have been a rank failure. With them 1 have been ublo to establish a profitable business down ou this corner. "My cook book Is simple. There Isn't another like It In the whole country. If It should ever be given to the public it would be no misnomer to call It the Illue-Itlood Cook Hook, for every rcclpo therein Is an heirloom of homo old American family. "1 never knew until I went Into the catering business how many families own a special dish that Is looked upon as their own property. Indeed, the old colonial family that has not such a pos session Is rare, and friends and neigh bors all respect the sanctity of this recipe, nnd would a soon rob them of valuable chattels as to purloin the se cret of that dish, which was, perhaps, Invented by Homo great-great-grandmother nnd solemnly bequeathed to posterity along with old laco nnd satin dancing slippers. "In one respect these recipes aro llko unto Hhakspearo's women they bavo nn Infinite variety which custom cannot stale. Somo treat of a special way to fry chicken, others tell how to preparo roastB nnd vegetables, nnd still others relate to desserts. Hut no matter what you want to cook, If you follow tho tnlnuto directions given you can't help but turn out a culinary masterpiece. "It was through pure luck that I so cured this Invaluable manuscript work. In my palmy days t was acquainted with man) ladles who are now custo dians of these recipes, und when I llrst turned my attention lo a restaurant, their sympathies were enlisted In my behalf, and (hey kindly iin'cred lo limn Hie secret of their ruinous dishes, pro vided I would exercise proper precau tion and divulge nothing to curious pat rons. Then Ihey wrote lo rrlends who were also cherishing grandmother's particular way of making paucakes or cooking riibblt. and recommended mo us an honorable, secretive person, to whom It was advisable to loan the fam ily treasuie. In almost every Instance this request to uccoiumodiito mo was complied with, and my i ollectlon or spe cial dishes now Includes tidbits favored by the exclusive families) of the Mast, West. North and South, not to mention u few foreign concoctions, I consider that no greater honor could have been bestowed upon me tbuii the loan of ma terial for my cook book, for never be fore has the most privileged guest probed the secret or those choice dishes. "According to agreement." said tho proprietress, according to the Now York Times, "my knowledge thus ob tained Is to be Jealously guarded, but In the case anything ever should hap pen whereby my collection of recipes could be put ou the market, the house keepers aud chefs of the laud would have a right little gold initio to work on." CUHB ON INQUISITIVE PEOPLE. Ctilciiuo .Miiii'x Way of (Wllliitl Kid of mi IiiiimiiIciiI Crowd, "Some people bae a great deal of curiosity," Nitld a Chicago traveling man ns he sat swapping experiences with a group of tils rellows at the club. "On my last trip South I took In u town that 1 had never visited before. The town was growing, and, among other liupiovenielits, was the establish ment of a public stenographer In the olllco of the principal hotel. The sten ographer, a pretty young lady, seemed quite an attraction to the young men or tho town, and there was geeurally a dozen or more of them banging around her. "I had quite a lot of writing to do when I arrived, and I engaged her for the evening, and after supper I sat down to dictate. The usual' crowd of youths and men were around, and when I began they at llrst moved back to a respectful distance. After a few min utes, however, they begun to edge closer, und tlmilly formed a ring around the stenographer and myself -so close that they could bear every word of my dictation. This was very annoying, and I determined to put an end to their Impudence. So 1 began dictating a let ter to my wife. In which I sHike of my arrival In the town, of which I gave a brief description, and then continued: " 'The people here are the most socia ble I have met. As 1 sit hero dictating n dozen of them nre crowded around lis tening to every word I say. This Is no doubt, a flue trait, but It Is somewhat annoying to the pretty girl who Is do ing my work.' "In u minute the listeners began to move away, and after that I was not bothered with their curloslty."-Chl-cago Inter Ocean. A Poet unit llio King. A poet whose lines never would scan was summoned before the king und commanded to show cause, why he should not be put to death. "If your ear Is Imperfect." said tho king, "you could count your syllables on your lingers, like an honest work man." ".May your majesty outlive your prime minister by as many yearo as remain to you," said the poet reverent ly. "I do count my syllnlilcs. Hut ob serve, my left band lacks a finger bit ten nlT by a critic." "Then." said the king, "why don't you count on the right hand?" "Alas!" was the reply of the poet, ns he held up the mutilated left, "that Is mposslble there Is nothing to count with! It Is the forollngcr that Is lack ing " "Unfortunate man!" exclaimed the sympathetic monarch. "We must make your limitations ami disabilities Imma terial. You shall write for the maga zines." San Francisco Examiner. An liilercNtlug Investigation. Dining his summer vacation, an Km, llsb professor traveled about the coun try, asking every tramp that he met why ho didn't work. Ho Interviewed two thousaii I vagrants, and, classing them according to the various reasons they gace for not earning their dally bread In an orthodox manner, we get the following: Six hundred and llfly threo said they were willing In work, hut could not obtain any; four hundred and forty-llvo could not give any tea sou that would hold water; threo hun dred and one thought that no one ought to have to work, and If somo people were foolish enough to do so well, they Intended living on those said peo ple; four hundred and seven were ou their way to procure work at distant towns, having letters In their posses sion promising them employment nt tho said towns, nnd tho remaining one hundred and ninety-four were waiting for relatives to die and leave them their money. I'lXJIl'RHSCH II liOt, "Ilns she an exprcsslvo faco?" "Well, part of It Is." "Which part?" "Tho tongue." Philadelphia Hullefln. Iiisiii'iiueo In Germany. Tho Germans aro a cautious people. There, are 17,000,000 people Insured In tho empire. If a woman ever had enough pluck to go out and dig for greens, she woTihl spoil the effect by saying thut she wur after ferua. DAM'S HOMN UI.A8T8, Wiirnlim Notes ChIIImb Ho Wicked lo l(ciieiiliincr A IT II remem bers Ills prom ises und so for gets Us own fail ures. The miracles of dhrlst can only be Judged in tho light or Ills mis sion. The surplus c Ii ii re Ii In the l T' communlly will nlwavs be a sheep stealing church. Hygiene Is not holiness, but holhioa will Include hygiene. Glib religious phrases lire but tho froth ou shallow eddies. No man can speak for God unless ho has been speaking with I Mm. He who would be great In tho day or trial must be great In that or trifles. Itlches In religion must be measured by expenditure rather than by Income. Where the church Is not overcoming the world the world Is overcoming lliu church. The preacher who panders to tin throng will get no approval from tho Throne. If Christian conversation Is not a means of grace It will bo a means of disgrace. When the church sells Us principles lo buy up the rich inn ll It Is quite apt to find itself sold. COASTING IN THE THOPIC8. Sport Hull Ilns IIccii liujojcd Time (lilt , of .Mind In lliiiill. In one form or another coasting Is among the most ancient and universal of amusements. Incongruous as ll sounds, this has been it favorite sport In Hawaii time out or inliiil. Tho author or "Hawaiian America" de scribes the possibilities of coasting In (be tropics. It seems Impossible that any speed call ho obtained with the long native sledges without the alii of snow, and yet there Is abumbiui evidence lo prove It. The course, made of dry grass nod smooth stones, was laid down the side of a sleep hill, and the pace attained sent the coaster quite a distance across the plain at the foot of (he runway. In my travels over tho Islands I no ticed these old courses, very plainly marking several precipitous hillsides and suggesting a considerable aiaount of toll in their original making. The sledge was only six Inches wide by three Inches deep, and about twelve feet long, made very stoutly of hard wood. A curious variation or the sport of coasting still lives In Hawaii, and serves to keep alive the unlive skill ot the Inhabitants. This Is surf-rlillng In a cuius- or on a oulnl. j The oulnl Is a board uiiiile or the fa nous I; on woisl about twelve to eigh teen Inches wide and from six to eight feet long, often with a Hat surface, but usually with both sides slightly round ed. Pushing the boards before them, the natives swim beyond the breakers, where they wait the approach of a suit able Incoming wave. When a big onu 1 comes, Ihey lie ou the board race down ward, and paddle with both hands und 'reel shoreward, until the wave over 'takes them, when by export manipula tion the oulnl Is kept on the fuce of tho j waves and coasts toward the shorn at 'steamboat sliced. As the board rests on the face of the wave at n considera ble angle, some Idea may be had of tho skill required to keep it there during thu qiinrtcr-iullc rush for shore, yet ' somo or the natives become so expert that they stand upon the board during 'the steadier periods of Its flight. In a canoe with two strong paihllcrs and a helmsman of experience und skill, the sport Is not less exciting. In front, the bow, cutting the water, sends strings of spray backward and up ward. At the, stern the great blue 'green wall cutis above ami over you, and If you are a sentient creature, your pulse thrills with an exhilaration that no other sport can supply. It Is tobog ganing without Its blinding, gasping sliced. A Coiiiiiioiiplneo City. Hcrlln, us compared with London, Is an upstart cJty, and the Hcrlln crowd suggests the appearance of people of some' great village. They look com monplace, as If Just taken from tho ranks of tollers that have not yet had time and money to cultivate the more graceful arts of life. Tho dressing of Hcrlln women Is mostly execrable, anil that of tho men Is scarcely better. You wonder that so much of ugliness of at tire, so much commonphicciicsH In the appearance of men und women could ho got together. It Is In such a mo ment that you feel thu full dlffcronco between London und' Hcrlln. Concealment, "You say you aro a detcctlvu?" "Yes." "Hut ought you not to conceal (ho fact to somo degree,' "I do." "How?" "Hy not detecting nnythIng,"-Wash-Ington Star. Military Kite. Kusslan engineers are experimenting with a military kite which will, It la hoped, provo useful for rucoiiimltcrlii'j purposes. Cheap Hallway I'uich. It Is said that thu cheapest railway fares In tho world ate lo bo found lu Hungary. ' Tho next time you aro tempted to spoud a dollar foolishly, reflect how much red Ihiimel It will buy when you are old, aud rheuiuuMc, and poor. i-v I