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About The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933 | View Entire Issue (April 4, 1902)
IIERR STEINHAHDT'S NEMESIS : : 3 BY J. MACLAREN COBBAN. INTRODUCTION. Mjr name if Unwin Gerald Unwln "Rev. Gerald Unwin. B. A., 1 am usually styled on the backa of envel ones: for. though I have laid aside clef' ital duties, lor the present at leant, I a Btill in orders. Mow tbat 1 enjoy leisure and the absence of those petty worries which prey upon the subordin ate cleric more than the lay mind can .conceive, I set myi!lf to write out the strange narrative of event and expert' ence which, in the Providence of Uod, have worked such a change in my con dition. I promised myself and my ,friend come months ago that I would do this, but until now I could not bind myself to my desk; I have had too much other occupation, desultory, per haps, but agreeable: in short, like the man in the parable, I have married a wife. Yet that is the very reason why my friends in town have pestered me, and now grow clamorous to know all about it. They have been good enough to remind me that, though it is prover bial clergymen get handt-ome wives, yet it in quite out of the common for so or dinary looking a priest as myself to win lady so beautiful and dis tinguished as (they are pleased to say) my wife is; and, further, that though it has been whimpered fine looking cler ical tutors have had the audacity to as pire to ladies of very high rank indeed, their aspirations have usually been overwhelmed with contumely; and, lastly, they are consumed with wonder that I should have lighted upon a re fined and delicate Frenchwoman in the wilds of Lancashire of all conceivable places. Perhaps, they add, with a touch of sarcasm which I can com placently endure, I was the only creat ure like a gentleman she .had ever seen. But my story is all too terrible and serious to be introduced with persiage. CHAPTER I. About two years ago I accepted a cur acy in the tillage of Tlmperley, within a few miles oi a large Lancashire town. If I had had much choice I would not have chosen a cure of souls among mill hands and miners. I would have pre ferred to perform my duties under a clear sky, rather than under a canopy of smoke; within call of fields and woods, rather than in a forest of tall chimneys and black heads of coal pits. But since I was disappointed In my hope of a cure in a certain pleasant vil lage of Sussex, I resolved to go to lira nerley in Lancashire. Ho when one dark afternoon of February I alighted at the nearest station on a branch rail way, and atked a fellow passenger, who looked like a native, and who was hurry ing away, whether he could direct me to Timperley when I was answered with a curt "Noa," I was not discon certed. I received a somewhat unin telligible direction from a station por ter, and leaving orders concerning my luggage, I went out into the dark and the drizzle to walk to Timperley. I tramped for half a mile or so along a well paved road, and then (according to direction, I thought) I turned down a narrow lane between a hedge and a wooden fence. I trudged some distance through deep mud, now stumbling upon lumps on the firm edge of the cartway, and now plunging into holes, when the lane seemed to lose itself in a field. I hesitated a little and then resolved to return to the road. My eyes were now used to the aarit, ana i perceived a foot path across the field inclining back toward the road. I struck into this, thinking it would save me some distance. But I soon found to my Vexation that "the shortest way arcots is the longest way round." I perse' vered Over the sodden grass, and some times somthing else besides grass, and M.Aantla lunan in .I'l'if ntvtatwViat sit the pleasant odors of rusticity, and my ' spirits rops a degree or two. I pass . low black wooden building, and guested it was a cow house; I heard the animals pulling at their chains and munching their food. By-and-by I found myself again on a tolerably good road, came upon some houtes of the suburban semi-detached villa descrip tion (at one of which-1 knocked and inquired my way), and soon, stumbling and splashing through exasperating mud and cinders, came out upon the edge of the valley in which Timperley lay. I stood and gazed around me. Such a spectacle I had never seen before. I listened to and felt the feverish rush of the life of Lancashire industry. The birr and bun of thousands of spindles, the swift click and thud of shuttle and loom, ana me regular sod ana respira tion of mighty engines mingled with the rush of watei and the plaintive panting of some machine as of an en slaved geni of the Arabian Nights. I could not at first apportion the sounds to the various groups of buildings be neath me. On my right was a many storied mill, whose bright windows were reflected in the glassy surface of a pond, on the banks of which there grew, pensive and forlorn, a few scrubby trees. On my left an aggregation of long low buildings with glass roofs, that looked with their shining backs like monstrous, crouching dragons of antediluvian days. Farther up the val ley was another group of buildings wrapped in a cloud of steam. Imme diately before me was a ruined mill, unroofed and gaunt, with its bell tower and its tall, cold chimney outlined against the fky ; behind It was another group of irregular buildings. A dozen tall chimneys poured their smoke into the sulphurous air, which was pervaded by a certain glow insufficient to dis sipate the darkness, but enough to make the stream which wound down the val ley gleam like a black gigantic snake. Now and again furnace mouths opened and glowed with a ferocious glare, while weird tongues of lurid flame flickered on the slope aid ridge behind. As I looked a great repulsion seized me. I recalled the Prophet's descrip tion in the Old Testament of the Valley of Hiiinom or Tophet, in which men sacrificed to strange gxi, and caused their sons and daughters to "pass through the fires to Moloch." This, snrely, wss one of the Tophets of mod ern days, in which the sons and daugh ters of England are . made to pas through the fires of the Moloch of Wealth and the Baal of all-devouring Industry. And still as I looked and thought of this the bell tower of the ruined mill j before me fell kith aloud clang, and there uprose into the air to mingle with the other sounds the frantic creaming of pigs and neighing ol horses. I wss not surprised; I was eomehow prepared by the scene not to be surprised at anything that might happen in this strange region. I passed, however, hurriedly down the slope by a rough path, and found the road Into the valley and the village. I beard voice aji4 aaw a dim crowd ef people about the ruined mill, but the stream, black and evil-smelling, was between me and it, and I had perforce to let my curioHity wait. I continued my way into the village, which, I found, lay behind the many-storeyed mill toward the mouth of the valley and close to the high road by which I should have entered it. I had, as it were, let myself in by the back door. Before I was well into the village I passed an arrangement of low buildings with blank walls to the road, from which came no sound of life or work, but, instead, the vilest and strangest smells that ever offended the sense, and from the midst of which rose a towering chimney that smoked con eumedly. These, I guesged, were part of the chemical w jrkg of which I had heard. I found the rectory at the other end of the village. I did not go the rector was in bed ill but asaed to be directed to my lodgings. I had some tea and then I prepared to go to dinner at the borne of Mr. Em manuel Steinhardt, one of the creators and lords of the Tophet into which I had entered. He was rector's church warden, and I had corresponded with him concerning the curacy, and had made this dinner arrangement a week ago. I asked my landlady where I should find Timperley Hall. "Oh," said she, looking at me With a comical eye of respect, "you'll be go ing to Muster Steenheart'sT" (so she pronounced the magnate's name). "He's at th' other end o' th' village on Shale Brow" (she called it "Brew"). "Stop a bit, nion." She went to the door of the room and called, "Dick, lad, you mun tak' the parson up to Muster Steenheart's." Then turning to me, she said, "He'll tak tha, mon," and withorew. I was amused; and when a minute or two later she called from the bottom of the stairs, "Art ready, parson? Th' lad'a wait-W- 1 positively laughed to myself. My amusement increased when I saw my guide, a young Hercules in clogs, who might easily have "taken" me to Tim perley Hall and farther under his arm. Timperley Hall I discovered over looked the valley from the side oppo site to that from which. I had first viewed it. Soon I was in its drawing room, shaking hands with Mr. (or Herr) Emmanuel Steinhardt; for I saw at once that he was of pure Teutonic breed, and I heard, when he had spoken a few words, that he must have spent all bis youth and part of his manhood in the Fatherland: he spoke perfect EngliH.h, but with an indescribable, tell-tale accent. I had just . time to notice his burly figure, his somewhat rounded shoulders, and his massive bald head, when I was introduced to his wife, a tall, Handsome, Lancashire woman (her speech betrayed her), with grey hair, evidently a good deal older than he; then to Miss Louisa Lacroix, of whom I will only say at present that she looked refined and foreign a rare exotic in this region of surprises; and, lastly, to "my son, Frank," a young man of one or two-and-twenty, who looked in every way and spoke like an Englishman. These introductions over, we sat down to wait for the announce ment of dinner. There was very little said: they seemed constrained, and I was, perhaps, shy. No one seemed to think of trying to set me at my ease. Mr. Steinhardt sat watching the clock, and at intervals throwing questions over his shoulder to his wife. (One question I noted was, "Is Jim coming at all?" to which she answered, "Jim said be might look in after dinner and smoke a pipe" and I wondered who Jim was. I was wishing I had not ac cepted this invitation for my first even ing in Timperley, when the young lady edged her chair a little nearer to me, and said, with the sweetest of smiles and the most musical of tones: "You coaie from the south from London; yes?" ' Her accent was that most delightful of all foreign accents the accent of an educated Frenchwoman. I answered tbat I had come from London, though I was not native there. "I, also," said she, "come from the south; from London last, but from Paris before." Here was common ground for pleas ant reminiscence, and we became friends at once. While we were talking I happened to glance across in Mr. Steinhardt's di rection: he was looking straight at me fur the first time. He rose and angrily rang the bell. Presently we went in to dinner. I, of course, sat next to him on his right, and noticed with some cu riosity, as he carved, that his hands seemed encased in very fine lemon colored gloves: a second look assured me that they were merely stained. Ills son's hands were similar, but of a deeper hue. For the first time it oc curred to me that mv host was the lord of the Chemical Dye Works. "They were your works, I suppose, M. Steinhardt," I said, "that I paused after entering the village?" I was alone on my side of the table, and had to speak to hiin, or be silent. "Yes," said he, rather abruptly. Then after a pause, "You came by that road then.?" So I related how I had lost my way, and how I had been struck (I did not say, "disagreeably") with the impres sion of ferocious energy my first view of the valley gave me. Ferocious energy,' " he repeated, with a smile, looking at me as if he liked the phrase, and thought the bet ter of me for having uttered it. "It is a great plane for industry, and it will be greater yet." I asked him how it happened that a large mill was unused and falling in ruins. "That is mine," he answered. "It is unlucky. It was a spinning mill; once one of the floors fell throuvh, kill ing many people, and twice it was burned, all in 10 years yes, all in 10 vears." "And today it seems to have added to its work of killing." He looked at me. "You have not beard, perhaps," I said "What?" I related what I had reen and heard. "Have voo heard of this?" he asked. glancing from one to another. No; None of them had heard. 'I must set to it," he said, and stirred as if he woul i set out at once; but he added, after dinner." - And after dinner be set out; and I thoneht better of him than I had at first been disposed to do because of his kindly feeling, though it were only for pis. In the drawing room, however. I was struck with the altered manners of the family in the temporary absence of its head. Mr. Steinhardt was goeoipy and kind even motherly; Frank threw off his awkwardness and shyness, and delighted me with his skill on the piano; while Mademoiselle Lacroix was very bright and winsome. Yet, now conversing with her and now observing her (when, for instance, she sat near Frank at the piano), I could not but remark that a look of sadness over spread her sweet face of sadness, and as of anxiously waiting for something or some one whenever she was left to ber own thought. This expression I was able to account for aatisfactoiily very soon. We had been some time in the draw ing room when the door bell sounded a loud peal, and at once I saw that sub dued expression of patient waiting on Miss Lacroix 's face flash op into one of eager expectancy. For a moment she looked at the door with her pale face gone paler, and listened with quick ear, till she heard the voice of the visitor, when her eager hope collapsed and sank into deeper sadness than before. It was a rich, cheery voice I heard come from the hall. "Is th" new parson come?" It asked of some one. "That's Jim," said Mrs. Steinhardt with a laugh "my brother." This, then, was the gentleman who had come to smoke a pipe. He en tereda tall, stout, ruddy Englishman, gone somewhat grey. He at once took posteriori of the room and of the per sons in it. His bright and ample pres ence extinguished the gauc'y, gorgeous furniture, and his voice, instinct with humor and un-telf-cons 'iousness, filled the void which usually reigned in that room. (To be continued) Phlloaophio Maundering. The physician who never worries ought to be fairly prosperous, since be has plenty of patience. Probably th reason the peanut gal lery enjoys the show is that the stage Is out of eight The man in business who tells the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, about his goods without beiug found out, U an artist Some men are born great, others achieve greatness; but the man who gets under tbx furnace when the bot tom drops out has grateness thrust up on him. No man cares to bold bis girl's bnnd when It can't do better than nines and deuces. Baltimore News. Dlvorc In Europe Divorce was established in Germany in 1875.. From 1881 to 1885 the year ly number of divorces was about 8,000, A'hile of late years it exceeds 10,600 In England divorce was established in 1857. During the years 1858 1802 the annual number was about 200; in 1894 about 550; in 1808 about (550. In Austria, where only non-Catholics can apply for a divorce, the number of de mands for divorce increased 25 per cent in four years, and in Belgium about 20 per cent in four years. . Too Much for ths Cobra. Recently (says an Indiana paper) a large crowd, composed chiefly of Karri atis, assembled at Versarpaudy to offer gifts of fruit and pour libations of milk into the hole of a sacred cobra. This is an unusual ceremony, and is called "Nagala Chowty," or the snake feeding ceremony. Such a quantity of milk was poured down that the cobra, to escape drowning, darted from its hiding place, scattering its devotees, and took refuge in a bush close at hand. A Big Hog. . Down in Vladosta, Ga., recently, a hog was killed, whose gross weight was 1,260 pounds; his net weight was 955. Each ham weighed 102 pounds. This fat monster produced 501 pounds ol lard, or nearly a tierce and a half enough to last a small family about four years. Besides the lard, there was nearly a wagonload of sausage from this one pig, to say nothing about dish pans full of hogBhead cheese, liver pud ding and other products. The Nail of the Preterit , The tendency of the present day is to treat the hall not as a hall, but as a sitting room, with easy chairs, tables, lamps, bookcases and all the appoint ments of a library, an arrangement which has undoubtedly a certain pic turesqueness aud originated when in the reaction against the discomfort and ugliness of 40 or 50 years ago attention was turned to the old colonial and Eng lish houses. Immeiu Treasure Burled in Canton. Gold and silver bullion to t lie amount of 130,000,000 taels has been dug up in the Forbidden City since the return of the court. Owing to a belief that treasure was buried within the pre cincts, two-thirds of the city was not opened to visitors when it was under the care of the American and Japanese commanders, and a close watch wai kept to prevent any one hunting for the buried bullion. Death Aikj for Birth Certificate A man of the name of Jean Baptiste Fabre, 87 years old, presented himsell the other day to the mayor of Montreuili sous-Boia to obtain at last a birth cer tificate. Scarcely had he uttered hit request when he sank down without a cry. Men rushed to help him, but without avail; he was dead with a sud den stroke of apoplexy. Paris Jour nal. Twe Mea Honored by Georgia. j The Georgia commission has inform ally agreed upon Alexander H. Steph-' ens, the congressman, and Dr. Craw ford W. Long as the discoverer of anaes thesia, for the subjects of the state's two statues to be placed in Statuary hall in the capitol at Washington. The selection cannot be definitely ratified until a meeting of the commission, to te neid in July. Ruisell Saje'i "Bouncer." Russell Page employs a "bouncer" nowadays a giant who stands within reach of everyone admitted to the aged millionaire's private office. The other day a man while talking to Mr. Sage reached for his hip pocket. The bouncer bad him in an iron grip in about a second. The man was only reaching for a handkerchief. America English We do not speak the English language in the way in which it is spoken by the people of England. Webavegreat ly changed, enlarged and perhaps im- ' proved it in our usual progressive way. The wonder lies In the notion of Englishmen that their way of speeding' the language is the only way and that our way la wrong. Right la Their Um. "Those cold Boston girls naturally enjoy the Abbey 'Holy Grail' decora tions In the publie library." "Why?" "Because a fries lr right In their llae." WANTBETTERROADS Urgent Necessity for Improved Country Highways. MATTER OF ECONOMY. Development Hindered by Condition of the Roada Generally. Thonarh the First Expense May Seem Iliuh, Coat of Maintenance I Re duced So Greatly aa to Make Thein Cheaper in Reality Tlioae Who Op pose Road ConBtructlou Shown to Stand In Their Own Lluht. If the United States were to be meas ured, as a whole, by the standard of the rtlstlntnilshml writer who said, "The laying out of roads murks the emer gence of a nation from barbarism. and their Improve ment keeps puce with Its clvlliza llou," then Indeed Is this country not jet far removed from the darkness of the savageages, We have laid joiw u macadam, out our roads, but Iiuvb nut imm-nved them. We have risen sunerior to the demands for bet ter means of communication during tho 'years which have passed; we have prospered In spite of their uainpenng conditions. But we have, however, 'reached a point where great further advance In our civilization is impossi ble, unless we elve them beed-wuure, In fact we cau see the arrest of future development unless our meaus of com munication are made much better man they now are. To the farmer, upon , whose shoulders rests the weight of ! the uutlon. three things are vital-good ' crops, good prices aud good roads. The first of these conditions Is affected uy so many phases of weather, season, pest and other things that It cannot be controlled; the second depends almost wholly upon the first and third. How ever, whether the season be favorable or the reverse, the price in the eud de pends much on the facilities for gettiug farm products to market. Most furiu Ing localities beinat least a few miles from any railroad station, the question of haulage, theu. becomes paramount. The farmer has paid out for his poor roads, In yearly repairs, many times the cost of good roads, which, In the beginning, would have been more ex pensive, out which would have re quired much less cost In keeping them in proper condition. The benefits from a system of really good roads would have been so great as to make couipurl son Infinitely in their favor. It is regarded as a gratifying sign of the times that there seems to be a movement in all parts, of the country looking to the betterment of rural high ways. Lxperimeiits made in pro gressive communities In Massachu setts, -New York, New Jersey, Connect icut, North Carolina, Pennsylvania anil some of the other States East and West, have shown several things. In creased values In farm lands In these communities have been accomplished with decreased cost In marketing rural products. Better roads have brought the people Into closer touch with one another, broader ways of living have superseded the narrowness which Is too often a characteristic of rural com munities, and beneMclal results have come In other ways. In every such locality, those who, on the score of economy or otherwise, were opposed to I departure from the old style of road making, are now the loudest In praise of the new regime, and those who fa vored It from the beginning feel much gratification of their instrumentality In establishing u custom so productive of general ttood. The time will doubtless come when the roads of the United States will be equal to those of France or Switzer landand that will be when the Amer ican people are brouirht to a full reali sation of the fact that for the want of such roads their monetary losses are not only large, but continuous. The old-fashioned dirt road Is sus ceptible to treatment which will ma terially benefit It. but such advantage Is merely temporary. Once a year, at least, the road Is "worked" that Is, the old, worn-out dirt which has squeezed out at the edges of the road la turned back Into the beaten track with the road machine or with plows aud scrapers. Sometimes, gravel Is dumped Into the hollows aud low places, but this practice has nlmost ceased since the advent of the road machine. In either case the result Is the same. For a time, the road is soft and rutty; theu It hardens down Into a semblance of what a road should be, but Its surface soon works up into dust in the beat of the summer sun, or changes Into deep mud under the Influence of even tran- MACADAM BO AD WRONGLY CONSTRUCTED. (Reanlt of placing the rouratngs of ton odod a foundation of loose or wet eartb.) sltory sbow-eta. Travel over such roads aa are found In every part of the Uni ted States. Is, at almost any time of year, a matter of discomfort In the construction of a country road the macadam idea is the one which, perhaps, should be more generally em ployed than any other, though the tel ford method ia a very close second to It both In point of expense and utility. There Is In reality, but very little dif ference. The macadam road la laid upon a dirt foundation which la rolled until It is very firm aud hard, while the foundation of the telford road Is a layer of large atones. In both,, the up per surfaces are exactly alike. In making a macadam road, the first and most Important requisite la tbat the stone used lie of good quality. While It Is true that the softer, brlttler material will break more easily and pack more quickly, it Is also tru that It will wear out much faster, besides hav ing a greater teudency to "rut' There are several ageucles which roust be considered In making the road. Frost water, wind, the grinding of the par tlclea against each other from the Im pact of wagon tires or the feet of ani mals, and atmospheric conditions of all sorts, come In for attention In ob taining best results. It Is therefore uecessary that the stones with which the roads are surfaced be such as are least liable to be affected by these con ditions. Granite la undesirable, for the reason . am ' . Jfr rr. Ua f, t,i,M6,M that of the three parts which compose it, one Is brittle, the secoud of a quickly decomposing nature, and the third scaly. Varieties of slate stones make a smooth surface which is easily affected by water, sandstones sre utterly use less and the soft limestones not much better. The harbor varieties of lime stone are very good. ' ' The very best material for surfacing a macadam road is, fortunately, often closely at hand. Trap-rock, cobble stones and "ulggerheuds." when prop erly broken, ore unexcelled for this purpose, in fact are unequalled. These particles, when rolled thoroughly, con solidate Into - a bard, smooth crust which Is Impervious to water and their "dust" In so heavy that It does uot read ily wash or blow away. It Is true that, because of the diffi culty encountered In breaking them, these stones are more costly than those which are softer, but their cost is much more thau balanced by their superior wearing qualities. In tr.e construction of macadam roads, however, the question of econo my usually forces the use of the ma terials at hand, whatever their quality. Often field stone and stone gathered from the beds of creeks are quite de sirable, as many of then! are of the trap-rock variety. In addition, they are usually of a size convenient for hand ling or breaking. It Is a comparatively simple task to break stone nowadays. The crusher, the first cost of which may seem somewhat heavy. Is capable of being moved from place to place, or district to district, as required, and Its purchase Is. In the end. much cheap er than having the work done by band. But whether broken by hand or ma chine, It should be remembered that the pieces must not he larger than two inches in diameter. Indeed, a general rule which may he employed Is the one which limits the size of the pieces to the dimensions of an English walnut As between the macadam and telford systems, the former Is preferred In most instances, though it Is, perhaps, better to use the latter In swampy places, or localities where the founda tion is likely to become soft In making a macadam road, the first operation Is the preparation of the road bed. This surface must first be graded, having for Its contour the exact out lines of the road when finished. Pre viously to this, the ground, to secure , . ' : . ' 8 a.. -V' ihI Wm54- , - , -f i" i ; - : .,..ia.'.j.f , lfT i l .. ..,1 A GOOD ROAD IN MECKLENBURG COUNTY. N. C. Formerly two bales of cotton made a load la good weather. Now a dozen bales art easily buulcd In any klud of weather. best results, should be surface-drained. The bed must be higher In the middle than at either side. The average nec essary curve may be seen in the ac companying engraving showing cross sections of the two systems. At each side a shouldering of firm earth or gravel should be made to hold the ma terial In place and extending to the gutter at the extreme edge. Tills gut ter should be" of depth sufficient to easily carry off all the water which may drain Into It Rolling comes next. This mu.it be continued until the earth foundation Is so compact that the ordi nary narrow-tired wheel will leave very little trace. Broadcast upon this prepared surface Is then spread a layer of stones, the depth of which Is meas ured by means of cords stretched be tween grade stakes. If the broken stones have been separated In regard to size, the first layer Is made up of the largest. The roller Is brought on and the edges of the road are rolled first gradually working toward the center. Th's method keeps the stones from spreading at the sides. The num ber of layers depends upon the thick ness of road desired. Usually, elj;ht or j ten Inches Is thick enough for the heav iest traffic, divided Into three layers. The second and third layers should be well sprinkled and a binding material, mdae of screenings from the crusher, or good packlust gravel, may he mixed In, if desired. Dirt, sand or clay should never be used. Enough water should be used to wash all binding material well Into the crevices and leave enough moisture to Insure Its setting. This Is all there Is of the making of the genuine macadam road. Of course, proper attention must be given to Its drainage and water must not be al lowed to get under the road. It may be necessary on this account to sub drain the road In particularly moist localities. Just enough binding mate rialand no more must be used to evenly fill the crevices. On no account should so much of this material be used as to make the real broken stone of the road a secondary Ingredient In making the first macadam roads, this binder was not used, the small particles wearing from the broken Btone being relied upon to fill the Interstices. Lat terly, however. It has been demon strated that the binder Improves the water-resisting qualities of the road, with Its durability and elasticity. Ths best binder Is the screenings from the cmsher. The next best Is clean gravel. The Telford Road. In making a telford road, the surface of the foundation is prepared In exactly the same way as Is that of the macad am road. The first layer of stone, how ever, is different This Is composed of stoue of five or eight Inches In length so laid as to form a sort of pavement breaking joints as much as possible, in the manner of laying brick. All pro jecting points are then broken off and the crevices art filled with stone chips, the whole structure being wedged and consolidated into a complete pavement Upon this, the small broken stones are laid, exactly as In the macadam road. If for the reason of economy. It Is not i desired that a stone road be construct- TRANSVERSE SECTIONS OF MACADAU AND TKLFORD ROAD ed, then a gravel road may answer til purpose very well. By gravel road Is not meant the dumping of loose gravel on the old roadbed, as la the common practice spring and fall In the rural districts, but the making of a road with a good foundation somewhat similar to that of the macadam road. The grade should be laid In exactly the same way and the dirt excavated to a depth sufficient to Insure a solid crust The bed should be well rolled and then, covered with perhaps throe layers of clean. Rhorp gravel, each layer being well-rolled In turn, the last being suffi ciently treated to make It capable of carrying a heavy load without sink ing In. This makes a very good road, hut care must be taken to sub-drain and surfuce-drain It well On no ac count should sluices be constructed across the surface of the road. Use underground tiling to carry water across where necessary. In building this klud of road, as well as all others, all heavy grades should be avoided where possible, always re membering that In almost every In stance It Is no further around a hill at Its base than It Is Over the top. Maintenance of Stone Roads. It is desirable that stone roads be frequently .scraped, to remove all dust aud mud, whose presence destroy the surface raucbjjplcker than anything else. Nothing better than boes has been devised for this purpose. Scrapers drawn by horses are likely to pull out the broken stones wblcb make the roadbed. Gutters and drains should be kept open, to allow of the prompt drainage of all water. ' When ruts or depressions begin to show, material of the same sort aa is used In making the road should be placed In the worn spots. Fine ma terial should nut be used, as It soon grinds to dust The broken stone packs down Into the old road and con solidates with It, making the repaired spot as good as new. Careful atten tion to these little things will keep the road In good condition until Its entire surface Is so tbiu as to require renew al. When the material of which the road is made Is of especially good quality, n well-constr icted road will requite little attention for years, often not un til It Is entirely worn out When this state Is reach id. It Is considered the best thing to ilmply put on a good lay er of entirely ntw stone; roll It down and a new road Is the result. Wide tires should be used on all heavy vehicles which traverse stoue roads. A roid of five Inches thick ness will last longer under wide tires than a road double that thickness un der ordinary tires. It has been found desirable to plant trees by the sides of stone roads, hut they should be placed at a sufficient distance so that their roots may not extend under the gutters or roadway. They should also be planted far enough apart as to admit wind and sunshine. The chestnut, which sends Its roots downward. Is best adapted to this pur pose. Along the roads of Germany, France and Switzerland fruit and mul berry trees abound. The Improvement of country roads Is chiefly a question of economy, princi pally as regards the waste of effort In hauling loads over bad roads as com pared with tho saving of money, time and effort In using good roads, the Ini tial cost of making good roads and the difference In cost of maintenance. As to the first proposition, a conclusion Is very easily reached. The second, that of cost in changing to good roads, de pends upon the cost of materials, nia- ADJVSTAULE WIDE TIRE. chlnery and labor, with method of construction and depth aud width of road des'red. Of gravel roads, first-class ones have been built In many places, at a cost varyiug from $000 to 1,300 a mile. The material in these roads la cleuu gravel of medium coarseness put on in two layers and rolled until It is of a uniform depth of eight Inches. The foundation la prepared In much the same way that that of the macadam or telford road. Coming back to the macadam road, which Is much the best, of course. New York State has roads of nine to twenty feet in width, built for $2,000 to $5,000 a mile Fourteen to 1U foot telford roads, of a thickness of 10 to 12 Inches, have been built In New Jer sey for $4,000 to $0,500. Connecticut roads of the same variety vary from $3,000 to $5,000. Rhode Island macad am roads cost $4,000 to $3,000 a mile, while Massachusetts baa some which cost $23,000. On the average, a mile of macadam road costs $1,000 a mile more In Massachusetts than In New Jersey. This Is partly due to the fact that Massachusetts la hllller than New Jersey and partly to the difference In prices of materials, labor, etc. New Jersey Is building more aud better roads; at a less expense, than any other State 'n the Union. The aver age cost last year was, CO cents a square yard, for toads averaging eight inches In depth. At this rate, a single track road, which Is perhaps the best, all things considered, costs about $2, 300 a mile A road four Inches In depth, which Is sufficient lu most cases, costs $1,1'!0 a mile for an eight-foot track, while a 14-foot track costs about $2, 000. The cost of maintenance varies with the cost of the road Itself. In compar ison, It may be stated that all money mm i l i 1 1 1 I li ii STAGES IN MACADAM ROAD BUILDING. (Showing in order the first course ready for ml I Ing, partially rolled and completely rolled.! spent on dirt roads becomes each year a total loss without materially Improv ing their condition. They are the most expensive roads which can be used, while stone roads. If properly con structed and rightly cared for, are the most satisfactory, cheapest and most economical which can he built The Best Road. In summary, the roud wblcb best suits the needs of the agriculturist must not cost too much, but must be of the very best construction, so that heavy hauling may be done over It when the farmei would otherwise lie Idle because of the rain-soaked fields. All things considered, therefore, per haps the best road for the farmer is a solid, well-built stone road, so narrow as to conveniently permit of the pass ing of but a single wagon, but with a firm, well-drained, earth road at each side. Where traffic Is not particularly heavy, a single track answers all pur poses at much less cost for both con struction and maintenance. TOO LAZY TO LIVE OR DIE. The Champion Lazy Man and Some of UU Best Qualitic. He Is a lazy man; he admits It him self. In fact, he rather prides himself upon his laziness. "Really," be said one day, "It is too much trouble to live. Naturally the assertion surprised a large number of people. They admitted tbot It was occasionally difficult for a man to live the way he would like to live, but there were few Indeed who objected to the trouble of living at all. Still, the aim Is to please. "Why don't you die?" they asked . "Too much trouble," replied the lazy man. "Why, you can He down most any where and die," they said. "That's where you're wrong," return, ed the lazy man. "If 1 lie down here in the street the chances are that some body will catch me by the collar and yank me to my feet, and then a police man will come along aud run me In. Think of the amount of trouble that would be!" "You might stop eating," they sug gested. "Trouble: More trouble!" he replied. "Somebody would find It out and I'd have no peace at all. It's easier to eat than it Is to go without." "Shoot yourself," they persisted, "Too much trouble to go after a re volver, and then I'd have to be dodging around to find a chance to do the Job without having somebody yank the pistol away from me." "At any rate," they asserted, "you can throw yourself from the top of some building." "Too much trouble to climb up to It," he answered. "No gentlemen, there Is no hope for me. If I could stand here and fall up Into space I might try, but until that can be done I'll have to keep on living. It's hard, very hard. How ever. If any of you happen to have a cigar and a match and will stick the cigar In my mouth aud light It for me, you may go on about your business with the consciousness of having done a graceful and praiseworthy act that will have a tendency to reconcile the laziest man on eartb to bis surround ings for a few minutes longer." Evans Wouldn't Bo Hoodooed. Rear Admiral Robley D. Evans was one. In tho lighthouse service. In "A Sailor's Log," published by the Apple tons, he tells of one of bis experiences, as follows: "I found most of the light house keepers In Virginia waters were colored men, put In office by Gen. Ma hone and his followers. Many of them had to be removed, generally because they would go to sleep aud neglect their lights. One of tbem I had to re move for a very curious offense, or rather be removed himself when he found I waa going to do It I visited the station where he was on watch, and waa Inspecting when I noticed thut be followed me about spitting frequently when he thought I was not observing him. I learned from the principal keeper, a colored Methodist minister, that thj fellow was chewing herbs and spitting around me as a hoodoo to pre vent me from reporting the various Ir regularities I discovered. When he found inat I bad reported tbem all and asked for bis removal as well he Jump ed overboard and was not seen again." Oldest Organ in America. The organ In the chapel of the Epis copal church on State street In Ports mouth, N. H, la to be taken to Boston to be placed on exhibition, being the oldest In America. The organ was brought from London In 1713 and placed In King's Chapel, Boston. While It was In Boston Benjamin Franklin was the organist It waa aold to New buryport some years afterward, and In 1S3U It was purchased by the Rev. Dr. Charles Burroughs and presented to the chapel In Portsmouth. Where Women Rnle. In several villages of Finland the woman baa authority, for a religious sect exists there whose disciples are forced to marry and to take a vow to uhmlt to the wife In all things. The women choose one of their number for governing bead, whose duty It Is to see tbat the men behave themselves, and to punish there If they trausgresa. Similar are the "PurlUcauta" of Libe ria, who also recognlxe the supremacy ef women. GEO. P. CROVELL. fsiiccemior to E. I.. Smith, Oldt-it GatablUhed iloute lu the valley. DEALER IN Dry Goods, Groceries, Boots and Shoes, Hardware, Flour and Feed, etc. This old-established house will con tinue to pay cash for all its goods; it pays no rent; it employs a clerk, but does not have to divide with a partner. All dividends are made with customer! in the way of reasonable prices. Lumber Wood, Posts, Etc. Davenport Bros. Lumber Co. Have opened an office in Hood River. Call and get prices and leave orders, which w ill be promptly filled. THE REGULATOR LINE. Dalles, Portland & Astoria Navigation Co. COMMENCING JAN. 1. 1902, And continuing until March I, 1902, this company will have but one steamer running between The Dalles and Port land; leaving The Dalles Monday, Wednesday and Friday, aud Portland Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. STEAMERS Regulator, Dalles City, Reliance. Portland -Astoria Route Str. "BAILEY GATZERT." Daily round ulpa except Sunday. TIME CARD. Leaves Portland 7:00 A. M Leaves Astoria , 7:00 P. M The Dalles-Portland Route Strs. "TAHOMA" and "BONITA" Daily tripe except Sunday. Str. "TAHOMA." Leaves Portlund, Mon., Wed., Frl 7:00 A. M Leaves The Pallea, Tue., Tbura. Bat, 7:00 A. M Str. "BONITA." Leaves Portland, Tuc., Thu., Bat 7 :00 A. M. Leavea The Dallea Mon., Wed., Fri...7:00 A. M. Landing Foot of Alder' Street, PORTLAND, OREGON. Both 'Phonea Main Sol. AGENTS. JOHN M. FILLOO.N The Dallea, Or A. J.TAYLOR Astoria, Or PRATHER A HEMMAN Hood Rtver, Or WOLFORD A WYER8 White halmon. Waah J. C WYATT Vancouver. Wash R. B. GILBKETH Lyle. Wash JOHN M. TtiTTON.. Stevenson. Waab HENRY OLMSTED Caraou, Waah E,W. CRICHTON, Portland, Oregon Shout Line amd Union Pacific " ' Frtai Hoot Sly,. AMT Mt Lake, Denrer, Chicago ft. Worth.Omaha, Portland pecUI Kanea v.iiy, St. Special 11:26 a.m. Louia.Chlcagoand t!06p.aav Eat. Walla Walla twls- pokans ton.Spokane.Mln- Portia c 4 Flyer iimpulta.Mt. Paul, turn :n p.m. Duliilli. Mllwao- fcttaaa. kee,L'iilcago&Kasl .. .. 84" Denver, Mall and Ft. Worth.Omaha, Mall ea Express Kama cur, St. Express ll;4ip. aa. Lnala.Cakajoaitd t.iia,m, Eaat. OCEAN AND RIVER SCHEDULE FBOM PORTLAND. l y.aa. All sailing oaios! 4:00 a.m. subject to chauie For Ban Francisco tell every i dars. Dally Cettmkia River . , V:i:u"" --F I Saturday To Aatnrte M Way "'M 9' " Landlina. j :46a.m. Win.rl aiw 4:mm. ta.Sonday Oreyon city. Near. ta.aia3i (wraVRolOHi, lrt. ' Knneiir A War "d'nia. WHtstsiertt o4 Im. t aap.m. Tuea.. Thur. km SI rat a. Mo. oX " K1- omi FrL Oree-on city. Da,. tan. A Way Lauid. I li'as. 1 T!ei T? I M,- Two., ThHt Hem, Wt4. ud Bavt Portland to Corral, tad Frt. Us Way Us. ! tar i lw. RlrwrU Mail kirta. Ly Lowtetaat ;iFr-UwletoB a.m. I dally I jmy , . mum WW A. L. CRAIO, ! Pamrnfer AceaL ranlaaAaa a BAG J, . kUvaw.