is
Dy SIR WALTER BBSANT
nnHHiirMumwmwiwiiwiitMtmwiNwi
CHAPTER IX. (Continued.!
"Wli.it his accident?"
"He fell from his pony coming homo
St night. Some say he was in drink; but
then he was always a sober man. Mr.
George Sidcote it was that found him
lying in the road. He wan insensible for
three days. When he came to he couldn't
remember nor tell anybody how the acci
dent happened; but he said he'd been
robbed, though his pocket was full of
money, aud his watch and chain hadn't
been taken. Tapers they were, he said,
that he was robbed of. But there's many
thinks he must have put those paper
somewhere, and forgotten because of the
knock on his head."
"Oil"' the stranger rubbed his hands.
"I'm better now," he said; '"I am much
better. Out In Australia I caught a
fever, and It gives me a shock now and
again. Much better now. So Old Ian
Leighan fell from his pony he had an
Occident and he fell from his pony on
bis head and was senseless for three
days and was robbed of papers? Now,
who coc.ld have robbed him of papers?
ere tliey valuable papers?"
"Well, that I cannot say."
Did you ever see a man In an hys
terical fit .' It is pretty bad to look at n
woman laughing and crying with uncon
trolled and uncontrollable passion, but it
Is fur worse to see a man. This strong,
rugged man.- seized with an hysterical
fit, rolled about upon the bench, rolling
his shoulders and crying at the same tim-f,
but his laugh was not mirthful and his
crying was a scream, and he staggered
as he laughed. Then he steadied Mm
self v.ith oue hand on the tnb'o; he
caught at another man's shoulder with
the other hand; and all the time, while
the villagers looked on opeu-mou'hed,
he laughed and cried, and laughed again,
without reason apparent, without re
straint, without mirth, without grief,
vi hile the tears coursed down his cheeks.
Some of the men held hitu by force; but
they could not stop the strong soluu lg
or the hiccoughing laugh or the shaking
of his limbs. At last, the fit spent, ne
Jay back on the netted, propped against
the corner, exhausted, but outward)
calm and composed again.
"Are you better now?" asked the land
lady. "I've been 111," he said, "and something
shook me. Seems as if I've had a kind
of a fit, and talked foolish, lively. What
did I say what did I talk about?"
"You were asking after Mr. Leighan.
Who are you? What do you want to
know about Mr. Leighau? You asked
about his health and his accident. And
then you had a fit of hysterics. I never
saw a man nor a woman, neither in
such hysterics. You'd best go home anil
get to bed. Where are you going to
sleep? Where are you going to?"
"Where's your husband, Mrs. Exon?
Where' Joseph?" he asked, unexpected
ly. Mrs. Exon started and gasped. "Jo
seph's gone to Bovey with the cart. He
ought to have been home an hour ago.
But who are you?"
"William Shears" he turned to one of
the men "you don't seem to remember
me?"
"Why, no," William replied with a
Jump, because it is terrifying to be rec
ognized by a stranger who has fits and
talks about live men's ghosts. "No; I
can't rightly say I do."
"Grandfather Derges" he applied to
the oldeta inhabitant, who is generally
found to have just outlived hia memory,
though if yu had asked him a week or
two ago he could have told the most
wonderful things "Grandfather Derges,
don't you remember me?"
"No, I don't. Seems as if I be old
enough to remember everybody. But
my memory isn't what It was. No, I
don't remember you. Yet I should say,
now, as you might, belong to these parts,
because you seem to know my name."
"I remember you, Grandfather, when
you used to cane the boys in church."
"Ay, ay," said the old man. "So I
did, so I did. Did I ever cane you, mas
ter? You must have a wonderful mem
ory, now, to remember that."
"Don't you remember me, William
Clampit?" he asked a third man.
"No, I don't." replied William, short
ly, as if he did not wish to tax hia mem
ory about a man so ragged.
"I've been away a good many years,"
he said, "and I've come back pretty well
as poor as when I left and a sight more
ragged. I didn't think that a beard and
rags would alter me so that nobody
should know me. Why, Mrs. Exon, does
a man leave the parish every week for
Australia, that I should be so soon for
gotten?" He did not speak in the least like one
of themselves. Ins maimer of speech
was not refined, it is true; but there are
shades, so to speak, which differentiate
the talk of the masters from the talk of
the rustics.
"I have come back without anything
xcept a little money in my pocket. Now,
Mrs. Exon, give me some bread and
cheese for supper; I've had no dinner.
Being ill, you see, and shaken more than
a bit, I didn't want any dinner. Then
I'll have a pipe, and you shall tell me
the news and all that has happened,
l'erhaps by thut time you will find out
who I am."
When he had eaten his bread and
cheese he began to smoke, showing no
trace at all of his late fit. He talked
about the parish, and showed that he
know everybody In It; be asked who
bad married and who were dead; be in
quired into the position and prospects of
all the farms; be shelved the most In
timate acquaintance with everybody and
the greatest Interest in the affairs of all
the families. Yet do one could remem
ber who be was.
Aout 0:30 o'clock the door was open
ed again, this time to admit Harry IUb
jabns, the blacksmith, who had been fin
ishing the choir practice. He stepped in
a big, atrong man, with broad shoul
ders and a brown beard. His eyes fell
on the stranger.
"Whjl" be tried, "It's Mr. David
n
east's Desire
I.eighan come back again, and him In
rag:"
So it Is It's Mr. David," cried Mm
Kxon, clapping her hands. "To think
that none of in knew him at first sight!
And that you should come to kit house,
of all the houses in the parish, first, and
me not to know you! and you In this con
dition! But you'll soon change all that;
and I 11 make up the bed for you and
your uncle and Miss Mary will be down
right glad to see you. Mr. David! To
think of my not knowing Mr. David!"
CHAPTER, X.
It was exactly 12 o'clock Sunday morn
ing when Mr. I.eighan was suddenly
startled by a mau's step. He knew the
step somehow, but could not at the mo
ment remember to whom it belonged. The
man. whoever he was. knew his way
about the place, because he came from
the back and walked straight, treading
heavily, to the room where Mr. I.eighau
was sitting and opened the door. It was
David coming to call upon his uncle ou
his return. There was some improve
ment In his appearance. Joseph Exon
had lent him certain garments in place
or those he had worn the day before
the canvas trousers, for Instance, had
gone, and the terrible felt hat with the
hole in the crown. His dress was now
of a nondescript and Incongruous kind,
the sailor's jacket ill assorting with the
rustic corduroy trousers and waistcoat.
He threw open the door and stood con
fronting the man whom he had last seen
dead, as he thought, killed by his own
hand. He tried to face him brazenly,
but broke down and stood before him
with hanging head and guilty eyes.
o, said Daniel Leighan. "it is Da
vid come back again. We thought you
were dead."
You hoped I was dead; say it out."
said David, with a ropy voice.
Dead or alive, it makes no difference
to me. Stay; you were in my debt when
you went away. Have Jou come to set
tle that long-outstanding account?"
David stepped into the room and shut
the door behind him.
You have got something to say to me
first." he said in a husky voice. "Have
it out now, and get It over. Somethiug
you've kept dark, eh?"
"What do you mean?"
"Outside they knew nothing about It.
That was well done. No occasion to
make a family scandal and me gone
away and all was there? Come, let us
have it out, old man. Who robbed me
of my land?"
His words were defiant, but his eyes
were uneasy and suspicious.
"Say, rather, who fooled away his In
heritance with drink and neglect?"
"Robbed me. I say!"
"If I bad not bought your land some
one else would. If you've come home In
this disposition, David, you had better
go away again as soon as you please.
Don't waste my time with foolish talk."
" 'David's gone.' you said. 'When he
comes back, we'll have it out. We won't
have a family scandal.' Well, I am
back. I thought you were dead."
"I am not dead, as you see."
"Well, go on. Say what you've got
to say. I'll sit and listen. Come; we
owe you so much. Pay it out, then."
"David," said his uncle, quietly,
"drink has evidently driven you off your
head. Family scandal? What was there
to hide? Good heavens! do you suppose
that the whole of your family, with its
profligacy and drunkenness, was not
known to all the countryside? Why, your
history is one long scandal. Things to
hide? Why, the whole parish was so
ashamed of you that it rejoiced when
you went away. That is all I have to
say to you, David. What are you staring
like a black pig for?"
"Oh!" cried David. "Is it possible?
What does he mean? Come, old man,
don't bottle up. You can't do anything
to me now, and I might do a great deal
for you; I might, if you didn't bottle up
and bear malice. Come you and me
know let's have it out."
"What do we two know? All I kno,w
is that you have been away for six years,
and you come back in rags, that yon had
a fit of some kind last night up at Joseph
Exon's. Have you got any account to
give of yourself?
"Don't bottle up," David said, feebly.
"There's nobody here but you and me.
I'll own up. And then I can help you
as nobody else can if you don't bottlo
up. If you do but why should you?
What's the good? There's nobody here
but you and me. What Is the good of
pretending that there's nothing? Did
you ever forgive anybody in your life?
Do you think I believe you are going to
forgive me you of all men in the
world?"
"Leave off this nonsense about biding
and pretending and inferring. Oue would
think you bad been murdering some
body." David sat down, staring with the
blaukest astonishment. He had by this
time succeeded in impressing upon his
brain the fixed conviction that his uncle
kept his murderous assault a secret out
of regard for the family name, and he
came prepared to be submissive, to ex
press contrition, and to offer, In return
for the secret being still kept, to give
back to bis uncle the long-lost box full
of papers. - And now, this conviction de
stroyed, he knew not what to think or
what to say.
"It can't be!" he said, "it can't be!
Uncle, you are playing some deep game
with me. You are like a cat with a
mouse. You are old, but you are foxy;
you've got a game of your own to play,
and you think you'll play that game low
down. Come," be made one more effort
to ascertain If the impossible really bad
happened "come. It's like a game of
bluff, ain't It? But let's drop it, and
play with the cards on the table. Bee,
now, here's my hand I beard last night
that you were alive and hearty, though
I bad every reason to think you were
dead. I was quite sure you were dead
I knew you were dead. You know why
I knew. Every night I was assured by
yourself that you were dead. Come, now.
Well, when I hoard that you wore alive
and hearty, I said to myself. 'To-morrow
I'll go and have It out with him when
all the people are at church and there's
nobody to listen;' because they told urn
you could not remember you know
what."
"Couldn't remember? I'd have you
to know, sir, that my memory Is as good
as ever It was."
"Oh!" said David, "then you do re
member everything?"
"Of cours 1 do."
"Then, uncle, have it out. Let ne talk
open. I've never forgotten It. I have
said to myself over and over again, 'I'm
sorry I done It.' I wished I hadn't don
It. especially at night when your ghost
came; who ever heard of a live mail's
ghost?"
CHAPTER XI.
"The man's stark, staring mad!" cried
Daniel Leighan.
"Come, now. Either say, 'David, I
forgive you, because there was not much
harm don after all; I forgive you if
you'll help ni in the wsy that you ouly
can help me; or else say, 'David, I'll
bear malice all the days of my life.'
Then we shall know where we are."
"I don't understand ono word you say.
Stay!" A thought suddenly struck him.
Stay! The last time I set eyes on you
It was on the morning you left Challa-
combe, and on the same day that I met
with an accident. The Inst time I sot
eyes on you was In this room. You
cursed and swore at me. You went ou
your knees ami prayed the Lord In a
most disrespectful manner to revenge
you, as you put it. Do you wish me to
forgive those Idle words? Man allv!
you might as well ask me to forgive the
last night's thunder. Reproach yourself
as much as you please I'm glad you've
got such a teuder conscience but don't
think I am going out of my way to bear
malice because you got into a temper sis
years ago!"
"Then you do remember, uncle." said
David, with a sigh of Infinite satisfac
tion. "Well, I thought you would re
member, anil bear malice. It was the
last you saw of me, you see aud the last
I saw of you."
David laughed, not the hysterical
laugh of last night, but a low laugh of
sweet satisfaction and secret enjoyment.
ell, uncle, since you don't bear mal
ice, there's no harm done. Aud now
we can be friends again, I suppose? And
if it cAnes to foxlness, perhaps it will
be my turn to play fox."
"Play away, David play away."
"I've come home, you see" David
planted his feet more firmly and leaned
forward, one hand ou each knee "I've
come home."
'In rags."
'In poverty and rags. I've got noth
ing but two or thre? pounds. When they
are gone, perhaps before, I shall want
more money. The world is everywhere
full of rogues quite full of rogues be
sides land thieves like yourself, and
there isn't enough work to go around.
Mostly they live like you, by plundering
aud robbing."
Find work. then. In this country If
you don't work you won't get any money.
Do you think you are the more likely to
get money out of me by calling names?"
" ell, you see, uncle. I think I shall
find a way to get some money out of
you."
"Not one penny not one penny, Da
vid, will you get." There was a world of
determination in Mr. Leighan when It
came to refusing money.
"It's natural that you should say so
to begin with. His manner had now
quite changed. He began by being con
fused, hesitating and shamefaced; he win
now assured, and even braggart. "I ex
pected as much, lou would rather see
your nephew starve than give him a
penny. You've robbed him of his land
you ve driven him out of his house; and
when he come back in rags, you tell him
be may go aud starve.
"Words don't hurt, David," his uncle
replied, quietly. "I am too old to be
moved by words. Now, if you have noth
ing more to say, go."
(To be continued.)
Always Chewed the Kag,
"My grandfather had one curious
habit," says a Virginia woman In the
Washington Post. "He chewed the
rag constantly. I don't mean It in a
figurative sense, either. I mean It lit
erally. When be was about 50 the doc
tors persuaded him to give up the use
of tobacco, and he used a rag Instead.
Grandmother used to cut worn-out ta
blecloths Into little squares and lay
them in a drawer ready for grand
father. When he was going out any
where, she tucked several Into his
waistcoat pocket He chewed from
daylight till dark. Once grandfather
and I went to the funeral of a great
man here In town. Grandmother was
111 that day, and forgot to tell me about
the rags. We sat well up toward the
front, and grandfather was no sooner
aeated than he put two fingers Into his
waistcoat pockets. No rag. He search
ed through all big pockets, one after
the other. No rag anywhere. He be
gan to wriggle about In his seat uneasi
ly. He was In misery with nothing to
work his Jaws on. The service went
on and when the choir rose to sing, I
saw one of grandfather's hands disap
pear under his waistcoat Ills eyes
were fixed on the choir and he looked
determined. There was a fortissimo
burst of muHlc and then in the In
stant of absolute stillness which fol
lowed, everybody heard something
tear. Grandfather turned a vivid pur
ple, but when he raised his head after
the prayer a little later, his jaws were
at work."
Helpful.
Mrs. Nexdore My daughter had her
first opportunity last night to play the
new piano we bought for her. Did you
hear her?
Mrs. I'epprey Yes, and we had
company last night; we were de
lighted. Mrs. Nexdore Er-really? .
Mrs. Fepprey Yes, we didn't like
our callers at all and were glad they
left early. Philadelphia Press. .
Don't be surprised If love that feeds
on beaut should die of starvation.
T5TVl
1'orttible llaj IXrrUk.
On a farm that makes much hay
nothing saves more labor tint it stack
ing derrick. A description and Illus
tration of one of the best were puu
llshcd in u lute Ohio Farmer.
Parts to be used:
tin. nf
letter. iiI.t.. In., rt.
A .. j xsif:
II i Ktiliio
e a siiiio
It , ilU
K 8
a ski a
0 2 iisi it
II 1 telephone poli
1 I ill!
J 1 '.'i4iU
U .! Il
1 1 rrmvlisr 8
I1 .1 tui IN-t a
M 1 Iron ii I n H
N 1 hole f.r Iron pin.
24 bolts n to S lui-hrs In li'UKlll.
Method of construction:
The frame Is mortised together, nil
the cutting being done on the corner
posts. D. The two pieces CO lire not
mortised, but are bolted flat.
It Is necessary that the piece B shall
bo n very strong one, as the entire
weight of the pole and arm, II and K
rest solely on this. It Is well to block
up under this at N when In use. The
pole has a pin. M, which rests In hole.
X. and the two pieces GO on top of
F hold the pole In place. An Iron hoop
should be placed around the base of
pole at M to prevent splitting. The
arm, K, Is made of two '.'t4 which
clamp on each side of the top of jmIo,
H, being bolted together.
In making the derrick the frame
should be made leaving ono side open
without braces, Kt, and cross pieces
F. Ono piece of O should be left off
also, but have holes, bolts, etc., all
ready. The pole with Its arm, braces
ami pulleys Is prepared complete aud
thsK by means of block and tackle at
tached to the F opposite to that which
Is not yet on, the pole with Its base
pin ill hole N Is raised up Into place
against (. Then the cither piece, G, Is
bolted In place, which holds the pole
OOOD FOKTAIII.E HAT UKHRICK.
Then close up the side with the braces
EIC aud put on F. L Is the crowbar
near the bottom of the mIi and Is used
to swing the iole and arm In any di
rection. One team can pull this machine eas
ily to any place and It need never be
taken apart when once put together
complete. When taking the rope out
It Is well to pull a strong string
through the pulleys with which to pull
the rope back again next year or some
one may have to do some "tall" cumo
Ing. Increasing Farm Values,
If every farm owner would look up
on his farm as the merchant does upon
his stock of goods, as something to be
improved as his business grows, farm
values would Increase wonderfully
fast If the average farm will do no
more for Its owner than feed his fam
ily and furnish him money for taxes
and scant clothing there is something
wrong with the farm or the farmer.
Of course, there are seasons when this
Is all that may be got out of a year of
farm work, but It ought not to continue
from year to year; If It does there Is,
as we have said, something wrong.
If the farm Is running down, If the
stock Is deteriorating Instead of Im
proving, lfthe buildings remain un-
palnted year after year and If the crops
are growing smaller Instead of larger,
then we are not keeping up our salable
stock and enlarging It, and our farm
value Is growing less Instead of great
er. Too many of us are farming now
adays because we have to, because we
know no other business. If we would
use the same energy, the same brains
and have the same hopefulness and
faith In our business that the merchant
has In his we would find a way of
making the business grow or we would
get out of it.
Bemedr tor CattUFly Feet.
There is a certain remedy which
should be used by every reader who
owns cows that suffer from files In fhe
summer, it Is a sure remedy that has
been thoroughly tested and means
comfort to the cattle and profit to the
owuer; Tine tar. 1 pound; lard, 6
tT1-r :
iyl
pounds. Melt tlio turd nml Htlr In I tin
pine tar. Keep nu old sponge In tlio
pall nml smear n llttlo on tbo back of
tint cow's head, along (lie spine ami
on tin' brisket twice a week. Do this
mid you can milk your cows, if you
wish, III the. open Hold mill I boy will
never stir un Inch.
Hummer I'm for Pwlne.
A veteran raiser of swine lias set
about raising his animals on the col
ony plan, somewhat ufter the plan of
raising poultry. Ho bus no dllncuuy
after tlio first week when tint pigs learn
which house Is their own. The pigs
are placed on tlio run go with these col
ony houses as soon as they
enough to graze. Tbo houses are built
low mid arranged so that the ends are
open near the top, using slats of heavy
material with a wide hoard lit the hot
torn. The back Is solid, and there Is a
goo,! roof which Is waterproof.
Ttie front Is arranged ho that the hot
torn board may be removed; It Is hook
ed In place at each end, and over the
tntlre front Is placed n sloping roof
s.
r-' .. r -i . ii ji .in it t .
5rT
si u m a iioo-i'K.x.
somewhat In form like the roof of u
vt'Miiubi. This roof furnishes shade.
mid with the partly open front and
sides, there Is plenty of ventilation
The pigs gru.e all they wish and then
go Into the pen to rest or to get out ot
the hot sun. At night they occupy It
very randy, sleeping on the grass. With
the smaller pigs cure is taken to place
the bottom board of the front In place
and hook It at night. Any feeling that
Is done Is given In a trough at the sld
of the colony house. The Illustration
shows the construction of these houses,
which should be small enough so they
may be placed ou a stone boat or sled
and carted under cover in the fall.
ludlnnapolls News.
I'alng (irren Cut Itnne.
If one who rulses poultry desires
eggs, the feeding of cut Inme Is essen
tialnot that the hens will not lay
without the cut bone, but that they
will lay so much better, that the timall
expense of the Imue and the mill to
cut It ought not to enter Into the cal
culation. Cut bone furnishes an al
most complete egg-making element,
while several klinls of grutn lire re
quired to obtain the same elements.
Bone mills are muni! in prlre, the small
er ones being eahlly operated by band.
The cost of Uih fresh Imuh-s lit the
butcher's Is also small, and as a pound
of cut lame a day for each dozen or
II ft ecu bens Is sulllcleiit, one can see
the expense Is merely nominal.
Feed Mlsed With CoIm.
A sample of wheat feed with admix
tures was found by the Massachusetts
Station which contained a large quan
tity of ground Kru cobs, when the la
lx'1 Indicated that It contained corn
and cob meal. Another sample was
found to consist largely of ground
wheat screenings, with relatively
small amount of corn cobs, oat clip
pings, wheat bran and middlings. A
tendency to add to mixed feeds Infe
rior shrunken wheat grains, resulting
from the ravages of rust, was noted,
and comsumers are cautioned to be o
their guard against such deceptions.
Massachusetts Ploughman.
A Cheap Window,
Wishing to have more light In his
chicken house, mid not having a sash
convenient, one poultry raiser cut ti
hole for the window, tacked light mus
lin to the edges of 'the boards around
the hole, then took a paint brush and
gave It a coat of linseed oil and It an
swered the purposo splendidly. The
inuslln should be stretched tight and
the edges doubled to prevent the tacks
from pulling through. The inuslln is
cheaper and asler to put In than
glass, and requires neither sash nor
frame as the glass does.
New Potatoes From Old.
Certain English potato buyers were
surprised at the abundance of new
potatoes on the market extremely early
in the season, also at the toughness of
the skins. On Investigation It was
found that the tricky producers had
burled some old potatoes in the soli
for some time, thus freshening them
up and improving their complexion, so
that they were able to pass for new
potatoes, although not of first quullty.
Ilorrowins; Habit.
Rome people have formed the habit
of borrowing until they think they can
not get along without It Never bor
row unless compelled to, for there Is
nothing made by it. There Is a loss
of time In going after the article and
again in returning It provided It is re
turned. Home people borrow so much
they forget to return that which they
have borrowed, and that is hard on the
lender. It Is at times a great accom
modation, but the habit grows.
M. Perglus Jullewiltili tie Wide,
whom the c.ar appointed chief of the
plenipotentiaries to make pence Willi
Japan, In place
of M, Mumvleff,
the original selec
tion for this Im
portant oillce, Is
called the
"strong man of
Russia." He be
gan his career In
dm government
railways, work
ed his way to
MkHuits wnit:. the head of that
branch of the cr.ar's service, a position
tin attained In IMSM, and In lSiKI he
became II nance minister of lli' empire.
Two years ago he fell from the grace
of the grand dukes by declaring
against the war with Japan, and was
removed from otllce to the Insignificant
post of president of the coiniiittteo nf
ministers. Born at iillls, In the lower
ranks of the Russian people In 1HHI,
he has always upheld the privileges
of the autocracy I believes fully In
the despotic form of the Russian gov
ernment. He Is an advanced stales-
man, and wiille In power tried to create
conditions of progress In the empire by
building up Industries, manufactories
und commerce.
Col. John lllcks of Osbkosh, Wis.,
who has been appointed MlnlMor tn
Chile, Is the owner I editor of tbo
(ishkosh North
western, the staff
of which paper ho
joined as a report
er In 1HU7. He also
Is noted as it liter
ary man, formerly
using the pen tiuiiii-
of "Sandy Broad,"
mid Is the author
of the story. "The
Man from Osti
koah" Col. Hicks'
was born at Au
t II. JUIIN lilt kit.
burn, N. Y., In I .VI 7, ami was taken
to Wisconsin when a child. Ills
father was killed In the civil war it ml
ho worked his way throiiKli cntigi.
but soon won a inline for himself after
he began newspaper work. During
the Harrison administration he was
Minister to Peru. Colonel Hicks has
been conspicuous In local educational
and library matters, and has present
ed the public llbrnry with several fine)
pictures mid with numerous art treas
ures gathered In his travels.
Miss Ida Tarbell, who renews her
attacks on John D. Rockefeller, claim
ing the right to adjudge him guilty
by the standards
of that religion,
which be holds
to be his "most
prli-eless posse)
tiliin," has been
the Nemesis of
StanibirdOII mil
Mr. Rockefeller
for some years.
She Is a wrlti-r
of nolo, her best
wins ima l a nu i i i. known priidiic.
tlons, prior to her Standard Oil articles
In Met lure's Magazine, being a life (1f
Lincoln aud a short life of Napoleon
Bonaparte. She was born In Ohio In
X, was educated at Allegheny Col
lego, and for noiiio years was the edi
tor of the Chautauqua.
One of the central figures In the
crusade being curried on to crush I he
epidemic of yellow fever In New Or
leans mid in some
Mirts of the State I
Dr. Beverly War
ner, rector of Trin
ity Church. He l-i
a noted churchman
aud author. II"
has been command
ing the great army
of citizens of the
Crescent City in
their fight against
the stegomyln inos- .,,. ,(.
(julto, as the transmitter of yellow
fever, and against dirty streets. Dr.
Warner is general superintendent of
the working forces of seventeen
wards.
Edward O. Lewis of St. Louts,
whose novel scheme of doing a bank
ing business by mall exclusively has
been stopped with
a postal fraud or
der pending an In
vestigation, had ob
tained several mil
lion dollars In de
posits and stock
subscriptions. The
postal Inspectors
have found that he
did not uso bis
own money In the
organization of thn
KDW AKU O. LEWIS. ,,ank pr0,n.
Ised In lil prospectiiH, and that he
has been lending the bank's funds to
himself.
W. V. King of the Dominica u astron
omical observatory is in charge of the
new big refracting telescope at Ottawa,
which is the biggest in Canada and ranks
after the giant ones of the United Slates.
It is nineteen feet six inches long, with
a fifteen-Inch lens and a maximum mag
nifying capacity of 1.R00 times.
-: ;
J. Alden Loring of New York has
made such a thorough study of birds ami
beasts that It is said that he knows each,
by Its cry and cau auswer them in tbolr
own language.
ML
tr--.- ii W 1
a.
"VM"'....
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