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About The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933 | View Entire Issue (April 4, 1902)
IIERR STEINHAHDT'S NEMESIS
BY J. MACLAREN COBBAN.
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.
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
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
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,"
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
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
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
"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
"And today it seems to have added
to its work of killing." He looked at
me. "You have not beard, perhaps,"
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
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
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
(To be continued)
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
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
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
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.
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."
"Because a fries lr right In their
Urgent Necessity for Improved
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
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
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
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
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
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
"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
"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
"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
GEO. P. CROVELL.
fsiiccemior to E. I.. Smith,
Oldt-it GatablUhed iloute lu the valley.
Dry Goods, Groceries,
Boots and Shoes,
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.
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
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.
Regulator, Dalles City, Reliance.
Portland -Astoria Route
Str. "BAILEY GATZERT."
Daily round ulpa except Sunday.
Leaves Portland 7:00 A. M
Leaves Astoria , 7:00 P. M
The Dalles-Portland Route
Strs. "TAHOMA" and "BONITA"
Daily tripe except Sunday.
Leaves Portlund, Mon., Wed., Frl 7:00 A. M
Leaves The Pallea, Tue., Tbura. Bat, 7:00 A. M
Leaves Portland, Tuc., Thu., Bat 7 :00 A. M.
Leavea The Dallea Mon., Wed., Fri...7:00 A. M.
Landing Foot of Alder' Street,
Both 'Phonea Main Sol.
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
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
Walla Walla twls-
pokans ton.Spokane.Mln- Portia c 4
Flyer iimpulta.Mt. Paul, turn
:n p.m. Duliilli. Mllwao- fcttaaa.
.. .. 84" Denver,
Mall and Ft. Worth.Omaha, Mall ea
Express Kama cur, St. Express
ll;4ip. aa. Lnala.Cakajoaitd t.iia,m,
OCEAN AND RIVER SCHEDULE
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
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.
1 T!ei T? I M,-
Two., ThHt Hem, Wt4.
ud Bavt Portland to Corral, tad Frt.
Us Way Us.
i lw. RlrwrU Mail kirta. Ly Lowtetaat
I dally I jmy
, . mum WW
A. L. CRAIO,
! Pamrnfer AceaL ranlaaAaa
a BAG J, . kUvaw.