mmmma : : : . ,
I1ERR STEINHAUDPS NEMESIS
S3
9
BY I. MACLAREN COBBAN.
CHAPTER IV Continued.
I cannot but confess that the interest
Mis Lacroix thus manifested in what
touched me awoke in me negations, 1
may even Bay vague hopes, of a vory
pleasant and consoline; kind. I
dreamed bright dreamt that night,
which hung about me during the next
day, but in the evening they were dis
pelled somewhat rudely by a note
from the bishop requesting me to call
upon him, and by a message from the
rector desiring me to call on him.
I went first to the bishop. My in
terview with him was more agreeable
than I had mticipated and I went with
a tolerably light heart to the rector.
He was still in bed. My short inter
view with him was not pleasant. The
words we exchanged were warm; but
they do not concern this story except in
their result. He wished, he urged, he
almost ordered me to cease all recogni
tion in any way of the existence of the
man Freeman ; I refueed to give any
pledge to that effect and so I was given
to understand that I would not be
wanted in the parish after the six
months for which I had been at first
engaged.
It was only then when my departure
from Timperley seemed imminent (I
: bad already oeen almost four months
in the place) that I began to suspect
how very much my hopes and affections
had entangled themselves with the
haunting sadness, the unconscious grace
and beauty of Miss Laircix. What
likelihood was there now, if there ever
bad been any, of a poor curate who had
already done something to discount
his chances of preferment of my being
more than an agreeable and tolerably
sympathetic acquaintance of a month
or two, of my hearing her eay more
than "so very sorry, indeed, that you
are eoing," and of thus finding the eni
gode closed? No likelihood at all there
seemed. And yet so much may happen
in two short months. I have to admit
that, even in the midst of serious work
(of writing a sermon, for instance)
vain, wild thoughts would arise in me
of commending myself to the young
lady by some great service by, per
chance, discovering her father, or at
least finding out for certain what had
become of him (although I had yet had
no word from the two friends vhom 1
had asked to make inquiries In Lon
don). But these foolish, fruitless long.
inns were loon crowded aside by the
excitement of events..
A strange thing happened which was
a direct result of my hitherto luckless
adventtue with Mr. Freeman. I found
that affair had commended me to the
favorable attention of all types of dis
senters in the village; one mark of this
favor I esDeciallv appreciated, as all
clergymen would the increased con
gregations I had at church, on Sunday
evenings particularly.
"I almost regret, for my own sake
ovu know." Freeman said to me one
day, with a laugh, "that I asked you
to be my chairman at that direful led
ure. I find you are taking many of my
congregation from me not all together
though, I must eay that for myself
But thev do their duty by me in the
morning, and then seem to take thei
pleasure with you in the evening."
Of those who thus forsook Mr. Free
man I noticed a remarkable group
working folk, whom he had pointed
out to me as the most closely cohering
and the most curiously inter-related
congeries of families in the village
(where there is an excess of cousinship)
They were steady; stolid, shrewd peo
pie, very comfortably off, yet all
whom, male and female, worked at the
loom or the chenjical vat. Iy atten
tion was first attracted to them by
... their taking up a good seat well for
ward, and refusing to budge when the
butcher's family, who paid for it, came
in, and by their evidently being quite
unused to the order of service
church. The prayer book was a maze
to them, and the rising up and sitting
down constantly took them by surprise
The family, I learned, had rigorously
dissented for generations.
At a special flower service (for which
few flowers could be gathered in Tim
perley) they were not in their accus
tomed pew. The church was dem-ely
crowded more crowded, I think, be
cause the fact and the reason of my
speedy departure from Timperley had
somehow got abroad. At the end
the week, however, (on Friday night,
think), a message came to me when
was in bed, requesting me to visit i
once a man who was dviog one of the
sont of this interesting family
dressed, and went.
I heard sounds of wailing and lamen
tation from the house before I entered
I pasi-ed into the kitchen, a clean
bright room, in which the men of tl
family eat smoking in various absorbed
attitudes, oppressed with silence and
sleep. ' One of the women stooped over
a pan on the fire, while the old mother
in a firm, clear voice, directed lier oper
ations. Hhe turned to me, saying
merely:
"He's upstairs. He wauts bad
to
see vo but at present ho't leet i' th
yed," (light in the head).
Upstairs I found the dying man
the smaller of the two bedrooms-
-for
warmth. That sick room, as it then
appeared to me, will not easily be for-
gotten. At that dead hour of the
night, wheu "the very houses seemed
asleep," and even the tall chimney of
the chemical works had ceased to emit
its tinted vapors, the gas Ha red full in
the little room, aud six persons, men
and women, were round the bed where
the poor fellow lay in the last extrem
ity of delirious helplessness, soaked in
perspiration. Near him stood my
friend Freeman.
J learned in a few words from Free
man that the poor fellow had been em
ployed for years at the chemical works,
where he had contracted ulceration of
the lungs; on Sunday nialit he lad
stood in the doorway of the crowded
church, had caught cold and had come
home to the bed from which he would
never rUe again.
While he spoke he was seized with a
Ct of violent delirium, in which he had
to be restrained from getting cut of
bed. Soon he calmed down again into
a more lucid interval. While he lay
speechless, and a neighbor bv the lied
kept moistening his drv,
cracked lips
with a rag toaked in brandy and water,
be gazed aroand hiir, tnd at lat fixed
his tyet on me, and essayed to speak
but no words came. This prostratios.
tnd, tilence continued fr some time.
Now and agaiu the head of the familv
would aend from the kitchen (in
his!
stockings, ltt he should make a noise),
and stan! in solemn silence with in
quiring eye on his son ; he would stand
to still and retired that hia rresence
wag forgotten till the gulp of a big aob
wo beard, and the loose back of bis
Urge waistcoat wis teen disappearing
-fcuad tb door. At length the gen
5
S i
1
found speech.
"Father," he said, when the old
man waa about to withdraw, "bide."
He then signified that all the others
should leave the room except Freeman
and myself. When they were gone he
motioned hit father to hie pillow. The
old man went.
"Ha'eyouBummat to say, Dick?" He
nodded. "Mun 1 raise yon up?"
He was raised and propped up with
pillows. He asked for a drink, and
was given some whiskey and milk.
"I'm a dying mon," he began; "I
know I am." His eyes, glazed with
disease and w ant of sleep, turned wildly
about; bis head drooped; and his
damp thin fingers (still discolored with
dye) clawed at the bed clothes. He
resumed fixing his eyes on me 1
must confess summat; I hope God'll
forgive me. I had nought to do wi it;
what for should I? He wag aye good
to me. I had nought to do wi't, I tell
on!"
No, lad," said his father to soothe
him; "thoo hadna."
Wee!," said he, "dunnotaay I had,
because I hadna. Wasna I on night
shift? That was all. I took Jim's
place; he wanted to go whoam to wife
in bed wi babby. That wag it.
He muttered on tome other phrases,
while be turned hit eyes about as if
lost; his recollection was wandering,
He resumed with energy, "They came
right in, speaking loud and angry. He
walks up to thing, and lifts lid. 'I
knowed it!' eayg he. 'But yo needna
let a' th' world know iU'eavs th' other.
This shannot be!' eayg he."
The poor fellow was growing terribly
excited; every word wag uttered with
fierce emphasis and wild gesture; his
eyes were fixed on vacancy, and, in my
reflex excitement, I fancied I saw the
nterior of the color shed, with its
vague tinted vapors, tiirougn wnicii
loomed the figures of two quarreling
men, whom I tremblingly watched in
imagination by the side of this dyed
demon of the vat. 1 he man grew so
excited, and we were so engrossed, with
his revelation, that he had risen to his
knees in bed before we could prevent
him. He continued his fierce, dis
jointed utterances.
We mun ha no more of it!' says
he. He leans lower! Ah. Lord! he
wants to spill it! A h--h!"
With a wild leap he was standing up
in bed, and fiercely imitating the action
of a man stooping, and tipping or
throwing gome heavy body, we were
go transfixed w ith surprise and horror,
that we could not stir a hand to restrain
him. He looked like a weird corpse
suddenly raised from the dead to
grotesque, galvanic life. What chiefly
seized my attenion wag the black
shadow on the wall of this delirious fig
ure thug stooping with bis head and
hands outstretched. The incident lasted
but a moment, and then the poor man
fell back on his pillow-wittu distracted
cries
"Murder! Oh, my God! murder
An' I couldna speak! Kay, I could na
But I'd nought todo wi't! nought!"
Again he lay exhausted, and ma rel
ativeg and neighbors came back hur
riedly to his bedside to wail over him
He looked sadly but calmly on them
gasping in the last faint struggle of
nature against dissolution. And so h
died, and the wailing broke out re
doubled.
Before Freeman and I left the house
together to go out into the cool summer
morning air, the old man fa id quietl
to us "I've seen for long he had sum
mat on his moiud, but what he means
I conna tell : so we d best ho d our
tongues, I think."
CHAPTER V.
I left Freeman at his own door, and
wandered away in search of gome spot
in which distraction and calm might
come, Hut the search wag vain, and
returned to the village to my lodgings.
The tall chimneys had begun to pour
forth their volumes of black smoke
befoul and bepoison the air, which had
cleared itself somewhat in the night.
When I entered the village its pave
ments resounded with the clatter
clogs: the daily contingent of toil
which almost emptied the village
men and women, young and old, was
drowsily marching out to its various
stations. The men and lads on their
way to Lacroix and Steinhardi't Chem
ical Works attracted most of my atten
tion. They were of fearful and won
derful aspect; they were of brilliant
colors, curiously blent, or were wholl
blue or green, or a fine Mephistolean
red; they were, indeed, quite "subdued
to what they work in dyed even
to
the roots of beard and eyebrows.
As
I looked, I wondered whether the con
stant wearing ol this engrained war
paint were not of itself enough to keep
ever alive in these men, tieacelul
they looked, fierce paseions, which
in
other men usually slumbered. A
outbreak of savage nature among them in
the mephitic vapor in which they worked
might be no very unusual thing: was
some such outbreak, ending in a fearful
death for one of thein,of which thedead
man" lying in that house, with the
white blinda drawn, had been a terror
stricken witness? Or had hie confes
sion been merely the raving of delirium
delirium, which seemed in some
measure to have been communicated to
me, tired ra 1 was witn me excitement
and with want of sleep
When I reached my lodgings, I went
to bed, and slept for some hours
awoke more myself, disposed to take
clearer aud soberer view of things
Over my late hreakfast I resolved what
I would d 1. I, for my part, wonld say
nothing of the confession heard in the
night, until I could be sure it bad some
foundation in fact. This I would that
morning try to discover in the village
I knew that any of the shopkeepers
would be only too ready to welcome a
gossip; for except at meal times, and
in the evening, the village is nearly
empty of customers.
1 found the draper, a little middle
seed man, who bore the evidences of
hard work in the mills from his earliest
youth. He was the very man 1,1
would have chosen fV my purpose; he
had a feminine fondness for gossip, and
he knew the affairs of every one in the
village, and all that had happened for
a generation or two. I had no diffi-
culty in arriving quickly at the end I
had in view, lie already knew that I
had been called op in the night to visit
the dying victim of applied chemistry,
and that Freeman and I had been with
him till he end.
" Very dwlirim," said the draper,
"I hear say he was jabbered and ram-
b'.ed away about a kinufc o stuff, and
then slumered (slum here.!) off again.
I suppose? Yea; that'a the way they
do. I.h.deai! It t a bad business for
' the w lie and the family.
'Are disease like his. I asked.
"often got at the chemical work a?"
''ay," said ha, "I tkiak net; ta
seem to agree wi most ton
weel."
"But the work is very aangerous,
ig it not? Don't accidentg often hap
pen?"
"Yea; it Is risky, n nen mey wor
the vts. and the retorts, and
v. : Ka tniin nn thftir mnuthi
tlllUgr, liliu auua ------
1 and noses wi' a clout, and even wi'
that they may sometime get choked
1 overcome dwalmlike ail at wonai
... 1. . 1 . 1.
r tii' smell, or sommut. aim wieu
they're a goner."
"Accidents often happen, then1"'
"Weel, mon, they do and they don't.
Mates, you see, are aye at band. The
lads often get an eye burnt, but they
don't reckon much to that. See;
there's a lad otter there by th' beer
shop door."
I looked and saw a sturdy leuow an
red, with a white .handkerchief tied
round his head under his cap.
"He's been two or three times like
lat wi' hit ere burnt. Oh, yea; it 1
risky ; but we dont' often ha' a grit ac
cident. The worst I remember wag a
lad on th night shift that fell in and
as smothered; he was found in thing
next morning. That wag a bad busi
ness; a' th' hair was off, an' th' skin
nd flesh was but it mak's you feel
queer; yea, can see it ao. 11 wag a
bad buMnegg.
"Very horrib'e," said I, while my
heart thumped almost audibly. "How
long was that ago?"
"Let me see. It'g a matter, I do be-
leve, o' 15 year ago.
I hope." gaid I. "a death of that
sort don't often occur."
"Nay; or our folk, qniet aa they are
mostling, might pull the whole men
agerie down.
I was surprised to gee the vindictive
glitter that passed from the little man's
eyes
Has there really, I asked with
gome constraint, "been any other death
like that since the one you mention?
Nay; I conna remember one."
(To be continued)
SHE LOST NOTHING.
Omiitlen In (he Wedding Strvlct that Didn't
Count
A distinguished naval oflicer wag
telling thig story on himself the other
evening to a gathering of his friends.
At the timeof big marriage he had been
through the Civil war and had had
many harrowing expenencea aboard
ship, through all of which he kept hit
courage and remained as calm as
brave man should. As the time for
the ceremony came on, however, big
almness eradnallv gave way. At the
altar, amid tke blaze of brass buttons
and sold lace marking the full naval
wedding, the officer was all but stam
peded, and what went on there seemed
very much mixed to him. tearing the
excitement of the moment would tern
porarily take him off his feet, the officer
had learned the marriage ceremony let
ter perfect, aa-he thought, and he re
membered repeating the words alter tne
minister in a me. hanical gort of way
After the ceremony waa all over and
all wag serene again, including the
officer's state of mind, the kindly
clergyman came up and touched him on
the shoulder.
"Look here, old man, he said, "yon
didn't endow your wife with any world
ly goods.
"What'g that?" asked the bride
groom with something of astonishment
in hn voice.
"Why. I repeated the sentence 'V ith
all my worldly goods I thee erdow sev
eral timet and, despite my efforts, you
would not gay it after me."
The bridegroom seemed perturbed for
a moment and then a beaming light
came into his face.
"Never mind, sir," he said, "she
didn't lose a blessed thing by my . fail
ure." Washington Star.
HALF-DONE WORK IS WASTED,
Great Extravajanca and Lou Rtiultinj from
CartlciincM.
The extiavagance and waste of doing
work badly are most lamentable. V.
can never oereatimate the value, in
successful life, of an early formed habit
of doing everything to a finish and thug
relieving ourselves of the necessity of
doing things more than once. Oh, the
waste in half-done, careless, patched
work !
The extravagance and loss resulting
from a slipshod education is almost be
yond computation. To be under the
necessity, all through one's life, of
pitching up, of having to do over again
half-doneand botched work, is not only
a source of terrible waste, but the sub
sequent loss of self-reseet and life
also very great.
There is great economy 111 putting
the highest possiblo personal invest
ment in everything we do. Any thor
oughness of effort which raises personal
power to a higher value is a judicious
expenditure cf individual effort.'. Do
not be afraid to show thoroughnesa
whatever you undertake. Thorough
ress la a great quality when once mas
tored. It makes all work easier and
brings to life' more sunshine. Success.
Solving It
Patrick, a thrifty tradesman in the
neighborhood of the Dublin docks, wag,
the story goes in Tit-Bits, a man who
never spent a penny more than
needed to spend; 1 ut he was, neverthe
less, as good a man at the making of
an Irish bull as any w ho lived between
Ban try and Ballycasti
Having one day occasion to send a
letter to a place at some distune -, Pat
rick called a mesenger and asked him
his price for going such a dis'ance.
"It'll be a shillin'," said the man.
"Twice too much!" said Patrick.
Let it be sixpence."
"Sivver," anwsered the messenger.
"The way is that lonelv that I'd nivver
go it under a shillin'."
"Lonely, is it?" saidPatri.k, scratch
ing hig head. "Faith, an' ye're roight.
Now, man, I'll tell ye what we'll do;
make it sixpence, and I'll go wid ye to
The Fretful Baby la aa Omniboa.
A correspondent of the London Pall
Mall Gaxette vouches (r this incident:
A yonng woman with a fretful baby
in a full omnibus (aloud) : "Poor lit
tle nipper, I suppose I shall end by
'aving to take 'im to the 'orspital."
(Raising the child'a veil and looking
around for sympathy.) ."Dont' get no
rest. 'E it aufierin' to with small
pox." Organized Agnottichnv
According to the plans of the trustee
of "the Church of thit World" of Kan
sas City, J. F. Roberts, its pastor, 11 to
be at its head and to assume the mantle
of Colonel Robert G. Ingeraoll. The
local rhnrvh is to be expanded, and Mr
RoVU it to be sent all over th
United States to ork-aniz agnoatic
churches. .
PodibJe Baktriaa la Fraar.
The French army portab! bakeries.
which make bread froni grain, ill b
pat tttUaeokllta.
ycience
The English sparrow, which Has
made so many enemies in the Eastern
and Central Statea, has invaded the
Kooky Mountalu region. For gome time
past T. D. A. Cockerell reports. It has
been known In the northeastern sec
tion of New Mexico, at Baton and Lag
Vegas, and it seems to be gradually
spreading westward and soutawaro.
having recently been noticed, Tor tne
first time, at Albuquerque.
An acre of grass land, according to
experiments, elves off not less tnan
1.400 nuarts of water In twenty-four
hours, and an acre ol sunflower would
give, a relatively greater quantity. In
fact, twampg have. been reclaimed and
malarial tnarshe rendered Inocuou by
planting tunflowert or eucalyptut
treea, which are great pumpers of wa
ter, and also exert other influencet
counteracting baneful conditlont of air,
earth and water.
Mount St Ellas la 5,520 meter In
height Mount Falrweather Is 4.840
and Mount Logan la 6,847. There la
higher peak still that hat never yet
been climbed. It lies In 68 degreeg of
north latitude and In 155 degreeg of
west longitude and has been called
Mount McKluley. Ita altitude la 6,129
meter or 20,226 feet td will proba
bly remain uncllmbed for many year
owing to Its remoteness and to the in
herent difficulties of the ascent '
In weather forecasting, no clouds are
worthy of such attention as the cirrus
clouds, which attain a greater eleva
tion than any others, averaging in sum
mer a height of five or six miles above
the earth. Their sudden appearance in
a clear sky Is generally a signal of roui
weather, especially when their stream
er have an upward tendency, for this
Indicates that the clouds ar falling.
After heavy rains, on the other band,
the formation of these clouds Is often
sign of Improvement
In a recent bulletin Issued by the
Lick Observatory, C. D. Ferrlne, after
describing the continued expantlon of
the nebulous rings and spirals around
Nova Perse!, the new star in Perseus,
Bdrla the lnterestlne remark: "If this
nebula is expanding In all directions.
and should continue to expand at its
present rate, some of It should react)
the solar system In 250 years." It may
be added that lone before It could at
tain such extension the nebula would
become to rarefied as to be lnvlsble,
and probably Insensible to any present
means of observation.
The recurrent alarm about the ap
proacblng exhaustion of the coal sup
ply in Great Britain has been fanned
a little by the recent appointment of a
royal commission to Inquire Into the
matter. About thirty years ago a sum
lar commission investigated the British
coal supply, but since then, It Is sain,
unexpected changes In the coal trade
have taken place which affect the ques
tion. At present Great Britain pro
duces one-third of the world's entire
supply of coal. No Immediate danger
of exhaustion is feared, but among the
duties of the new commission Is to In
quire Into the possible substitution of
other fuel, or the employment of kinds
of power not depending upon the use
of coal.
VALUE OF AN IDEA.
On
Britfht Young- Man Got a High
Price for His.
An elderly gentleman, whose appear
ance correctly Indicated blm to be a
man of wealth, handed a youug man
a check a few afternoons ago In the
lobby of an uptown hotel. Observing
that It was drawn for $1,000, a friend
remarked that the young man must
have rendered some Important service
to the benevolent gentleman.
"He has," replied the latter. "lie
put $1,000,000 Into my pocket."
"Why didn't he keep It himself?"
asked the friend, enviously, as such
examples of generosity are rare.
"Because be could not use It; the
$1,000 will be more valuable to him. 1
will explain, as neither of us were ac
tuated by motives of generosity, but
cold business.
"As you know, I am the president of
a corporation, which some people call
a trust, that Is one of the largest ad
vertisers in the world, as we spend
thousands yes, hundreds of thousands
-of dollars a year In letting the people
know Just what they must have, what
ever else they don't have.
"We believe in advertising, and this
young man knows It and has profited
accordingly. He came to me to-day,
as we are utter strangers, and asked
me If I would pay him $1,000 for an
Idea on advertising our goods. I did
not try to beat blm down to $100, a
good figure for an Idea, but promptly
told him that I would gladly pay his
price If, upon communicating to me
the idea, I considered it worth what
he demanded. Otherwise I would pay
him what I, and not be, considered It
worth.
To this be readily assented, and In
an hour's talk be explained to me the
brightest Idea on advertising I have
ever received out of- thousands of sug
gestions. We will make over $1,000,000
profit Inside of a year on Increased
sales and permanent business retalued.
So, yon see, his price wat cheap.
"Fortunes have been made in busi
ness by the advertising of tingle
suggestion In such a manner that the
public tee It out of the great mast of
printed matter going through their
bands, and this tide of advertlsment
flows to rapidly that there must be
something above another which at
tract! public attention. Tola 'aome
thlng waa what that bright young
man gave 0 me, and I am very much
obliged to mm." Washington Star.
MR. CROKER'S WANTAGE.
Ttat Sort of Piece It la and Why He
Went There.
In these days of Winchester festivi
ties and national millenniums. It bat
been 'somewhat too widely forgotten
that the town where King Alfred was
born celebrated th anniversary of bis
birth more than fifty year ago, not
only by a statue, which ttands In the
Wantage market place, but by the re
organization of an ancient grammar
school, where most of the hardy yeo
men farmers in that district received
their education. Few more appropri
ate memorials to the founder of Eng
lish education could have been con
ceived, and Mlsa Gibbons has been
well advised to take advantage of the
present Interest in all that pertalna to
the great West Saxon leader by Issuing
an authoritative history of the town
which gave him blrtb.
Th quiet town or Wantage baa sud
denly found Itself placarded with a
Strang notoriety la the last year or
two. No doubt It wat chiefly Itt al-
j Boat unequaled opportunities for train-
Ing race horses that first attracted the j
celebrated Mr. Croker to this district,
a district which persistently claims
the honor of the birth of Eclipse,
against all the assertions of the Inhab
itants of Windsor Great Tark or the
Isle of Dogs; and sportsmen who fol
low the doings of thoroughbreds In
training are by now well accustomed to
turning to the news of Wantage for a
report of what Mr. Morton, or Mr.
Hotnby, or Mr. Robson has been doing
with his 2-year-olds.
But by such passing phases of pub
licity the town Is very little disturbed.
It was content for a long time with
the reputation of King Alfred. Then
Bishop Butler of the "Analogy" con
ferred a more modern luster upon the
town where he was born and educated,
and In these last years It was the eu-
ergy and organisation of another But
ler, "Butler of Wantage." as me ciean
of Lincoln wag called, to the end of his
strenuous career, which finally raised
the little Berkshire town out of Its old
rut and placed It In the forefront or
model educational centers.
The name It associated, too, with that
of the peer, only lately dead, who took
It for bis title. Lord wantage uia
much for the place in which he was so
largely Interested, and among the most
picturesque records of his generosity
will ever be that Gallery of the .Vic
toria Cross, where the first heroes of
that splendid decoration are commem
orated by the art of Chevalier Desan-
ges. It would be a pity, says the Lon
don Telegraph. If this historic series
were left Incomplete by the lack of the
more recent owners of the cross in the
period after the artist's work here pre
ervftd waa stormed, for It would be
dllficult to find a more stirring or In
teresting collection -of patriotic pic
tures In any gallery In the world.
TO WHOM DOES BABY BELONG ?
Threo Women Claim It and Naturally
There I a Tangle.
The chief magistrate In the Canton of
Rarne. Switzerland, has been called
unon to give Judgment In a most com
plicated case, which suggests the prob
lem submitted to King Solomon about
twntv-nln centuries ago, tayt the
London Mall.
A tailor named Meier, who married
a Swiss girl three years ago, threat
ened to divorce her because they had
no family. At the end of last year he
went to Germany on business. A few
month afterward he received a letter
from bis wife with the good tidings of
the birth of a child.
The father was overjoyed, and pre
pared to return to Berne. Tho child.
however, died soon after its birth, and
the poor wife was afraid to tell her
husband. So she determined to adver
tise for a newly born child. Forty
eight hours afterward a woman called
on Mme. Meier with a baby, and a bar
gain was struck transferring the child,
whlrh waa reeistered as Mme. Meier's
child.
The husband paid his wife a flying
viutt saw the new-born babe and re
turned to Germany a happy man.
little while ago the real mother of the
child appeared, and, having repaid the
money which she bad received, de
manded her child. In this dilemma
Mme. Meier again advertised, this time
for a little girl 6 months old, of whom
a detnlled description was given. To
her great Joy a woman appeared with
an infant so nae uer own iuui uj
observer would have taken the two
children for twins. Again a burgaiu
was struck, aud Mme. Meier had ar
ranged everything to return her first
adopted child to Its mother when this
child caught cold and died.
The real mother (of No. 1) then turn
ed up and refused to take Mme. Meier's
word, althaugh the death certificate
was shown her, and she claimed buby
No. 2, which she swore was her own
To make matters still more compu
cated, the mother of No. 2 baby now
came upon the scene and claimed her
child. Neither promises nor threats
had any effect on the two women, who
hoth claimed the same baby. In de
spair Mme. Meier wrote to her hus
band In Germany, making a clean
breast of the matter, and telling blm
what a terrible predicament she was
in.
The husband arrived home on the fol
lowing day and refused to believe his
wife's story, had everything packed up
and took his wife and child off to Ger
many with blm.
At the Instigation of her husband
Mme. Meier hat now put In a claim for
the child also, and the magistrate,
therefore, hat the herculean task be
fore him of deciding to which of the
three "mothers" the child belongs.
Mark Twain' Engine.
Capt Thomas Bixby. under whom
Samuel L. Clemens Mark Twain-
served as pilot and engineer on the old
Mississippi River boat Swallow, has
given In a New Orleans paper the roi
lowing description of the engine of the
Swallow:
The craft was a little, shaky affair
whlci plied between St Louis and
Cairo. It had a atern wheel, a place
for freight and passengers, a pilot
house and a place on what may
called the pilot deck for the engine.
That "engine" went aboard when
was needed, and only then. It burned
no wood or coal, but ate a powerful
!eht of grass. It was a large gray
mule named Jerry, which worked
tread mill that propelled the boat.
Samuel Clement wat chief engineer
and pilot
H bad a tystem of signals whic
was effectlv and Ingenious. By pull
lnc a cord be could raise a bead
cabbage Just out of reach of the mule,
Tb "engine" would start and beg!
to walk after It and the boat floated
majestically down or up the river, as
the case might be.
Without desiring to be personal. I will
tay that Jerry was on of the most In
telligent anlmalt I ever met. Hie voice
wtt more on the order of a fog-born
than a whittle, being too much of a
barytone for the latter. When Samuel
wanted to whistle for a landing be Just
hit Jerry with a ttick.
Credit Where It Is Due.
"I understand," aald Mr. Meekton.
"that I wat alluded to at a meeting of
the Feminine Emancipation League at
one of the moat docile and obedient of
husbands f
"Ye."
"Well, I shall not pretend to be a
self made man. I will frankly confess
that I owe this prominence entirely to
Henrietta." Washington Star.
. lxea of Vresela.
Four per cent of sailing vessel aud
2'4 per cent of steamships are lost In a
yesr.
Ever notice bow yon dislike people
who wear bogus dlamonda? Don't In
dulge In the bogua; people detect every
I bogus claim at quickly aa they detect
bog as Jewelry.
I A boy Idea of a big man It a -an
j who haa a town named after blm.
FRIENDS THOUGH TOES.
r
'1
aa
J
J
1 :
. ' 1
iV , Jf v.
LORD METHUEN AND GEN. DELAREY.
During Lord Metbuen's stay in the Boer camp- Gen. Delarey waa unremitting
In hia courtesy, and personally expressed bla great aympathy with hia distin
guished prisoner.
BRAKE ON THE STEAMER.
Many a serious accident on the water
might be avoided If vessels were fitted
with a device for bringing tneui to a
stop as quickly as possible when the
danger appears. Louis Lacoste of Mon
treal, Que., has designed an apparatus
for this special purpose, which Is Illus
trated herewith, the picture showing
the central part of a steamer with the
brake mechanism attached In operating
position.
The brake proper consists of a Dinged
gate of considerable widtn, attacneu
to the side of the ship to extend vertl-
HLTARDS PASSAOK THROUGH WATEK.
cally downward from the water line.
Normally this gate lies close against
the side of the vessel and offers no
resistance to the progress through the
water, but when the proper signal Is
given from the pilot house the engineer
starts the mechanism which released
the clamp securing the forward edge of
the gate, the latter Immediately flying
open, until It Is at right angles to the
course of the ship, where It Is sustain
ed by the braces at the rear.
The brakes are arranged in pairs and
two or more sets may be applied to one
ship. They offer no hindrance to the
movement of the ship through the wat
er as long as they remain closed, but
afford a valuable addltldon to the re
versed propeller In bringing the ship
to a quick stop In times of danger.
A SLOW PROCESS.
Cooling of the Earth aa Relating to the
Leuarth of the Day.
Profess.ir Woodward, In the Popu
lar "Science Monthly, has lately given
au account of his researches on the
progressive cooling of the earth and Its
relation to the length of the day. Does
the length of the day vary? Was it
formerly shorter than now? Will It In
the future, be lengthened? The an
swer depends upon the mass of the
earth, which varies, since meteoric
dust perpetually falls upon the surface
and thus Increases the quantity of
matter; and on Its volume, which be
comes smaller as the mass Is progres
sively cooled. Laplace concluded from
the data at bis disposition that there
had been no sensible change In the
length of the day for 2,000 years.
Woodward has repeated bis calcula
tion with new data, and concludes that
the duration of the day has not chang
ed as much as half a second during
the first 10,000.000 years after the be
ginning of solidification of the earth's
material. When the -cooling of the
earth finally reaches Its term the
change will be marked. Professor
Woodward's result Is that the ratio of
the change of the day to Its Initial
length Is two-thirds of the product of
the loss of temperature multiplied by
Its cubical contraction. For example.
If the primitive temperature of the
earth wat 3,000 deg. C, and If Its cubi
cal contraction was that of Iron, the day
will be finally reduced about 6 per
cent that is to say, by about an hour
and a haif. The lapse of time neces
sary to bring this about Is enormous.
Three hundred thousand millions of
years are required, according to Wood
ward, for 95 per cent of the total con
traction to take place. The length of
the day will not be sensibly affected,
on the other band, after the expiration
of 1,000,000 of millions of years. The
fall of meteoric dust tends to Increase
th mass of the earth, and thus to
change the length of the day. but the
effect due to this cause is not above
on two hundred thousandth of th ef
fect of secular cooling. Twenty mil
lions of small meteors, weighing on
the average one gramme each, fall on
the earth daily, but In 1.000.000 of mil
lions of years the length of day will
not be ln reused quarter of a second
on this account Taking everything
together the day will ahorten. not
lengthen, but the procea will go on
with extreme slowness. -
SALMON P. CHASE'S CARRIAGE.
Still Preserved la tbe Chop of Waah
Ingrtoa Dealer.
The carriage which was In 1S02 tbe
handsomest equipage In Washington,
and which transported through ita
ttrwtt tbe reigning tociety qnean of
"2
i
1
that day-the daughter of Salmon P.
Chase, or, -as she Is now remembered,
Mrs. Kate Chase Sprague has for the
last eighteen years occupied an In
conspicuous place lu the salesroom of
Thomas E. Young's carriage bouse In
that city.
The huge vehicle Is now quaint and
out of date In ninny ways, though
traces of its departed elegance are not
lacking. A well-worn footboard In the
rear gives evidence of the military ap
pearance of two liveried footmen who
gripped with tenacity at the black
strap handles In order to maintain
their equilibrium. In front Is a box
seat for the driver, draped somewhat
In the fashion ,f a hearse of the pres
ent day.
The luterior of the carriage, with Its
ample seating capacity for six persons,
is lined with heavy lilac satin, while
the handles and door latches are of
silver and Ivory. The carriage is Jet
black and Its heavy running gear, to
gether with its ponderous body and
substantial trappings, gives the Im
pression that it is looking with
haughty disdain on the glossy traps
which surround it in the salesroom,
never admlttiug for a moment that Its
former glory has been lessened a whit
by the vagaries of fashion.
Mrs. Kate Chase Sprague gave the
carriage In trade for a more modern
vehicle about eighteen years ago. Its
value now Is simply that of a relic,
but In the estimation of Mr. Touug
this value Is Increasing each year. -
Mr. Young also has stored away In
bis lofts the Seward carriage, which
is an exact counterpart of the carriage
shown at Buffalo as the equipage of
Abraham Lincoln. This, with the car
riage of Gen. Tecumseb Sherman,
says the Washington Star, he pur
chased about twenty years ago.
A FEARFUL JOY.
Chief Justice of England a
Man to Talk With
Difficult
Lord Bussell of Killowen, the late
Lord Chief Justice of Eugland, was
very brusque in manner, and to call
upon blm was sometimes "a fearful
Joy." A visitor, a Mr. Wllkins, once
appeared In Lord Itussell's ollice to ask
a favor. The conversation which en
sued would be regarded anywhere as
sufficient evidence of Lord Kussell s ec
centricity, to use a mild term.
'How do you do. Sir Charles? ' said
Wllkins. "I think 1 had the honor or
meeting you with Lord-
"Whut do you want?" Interrupted
Lord Kussell.
'Well, Sir Charles, I have endeavored
to state In my letter '
"Yes, I have your letter," said Lord
Russell, brusquely, "and you write a
very slovenly hand."
"The fact Is, Sir Charles, I wrote that
letter In a hurry In your waiting
room."
"Not at all, not at all Ion had plen
ty of time to write a legible note. No,
you are careless. Go on!"
"Well, a vacancy has occurred In '
began he visitor.
"i'ou are very untidy In your appear
ance," broke In Sir Charles.
"I was traveling all night I only
"Nonsense!" again interrupted Lord
Hussell. "Tou had plenty of time to
make yourself tidy. No; you are nat
urally careless about your appearance.
Go on!"
"Well, Sir Charles, this vacancy hat
occurred In "
"And you are very fat!" Interrupted
the Chief Justice, Irritably.
"That Is hereditary, I am afraid."
said the visitor, not a little disconcert
ed by the criticisms of Sir Cbarlea.
"My father wat very fat "
"Not at all," said the Chief Justice.
"I knew your father well. He wasn't
fat It's laziness."
But Lord Russell helped the man to
the position be desired. His bark wat
often worse than hit bite.
THE AMERICAN FATHER.
Average Man of Family Give Too Lit
tle Time to Hit Children.
It It right to tbe child that he teet
and knows so little of his rather? It
all thit commercial ttrife worth the
price of a child being almost a stranger
to bis own father? Men are sometimes
surprised that their children go In
stinctively to their mothers, and to
little to them. But aside from the nat
ural Instinct which draws every child
to his mother, why should the fact
cause any wonder? A child attaches
himself to those who give blm tbe most
attention, to tbe one who Joins him in
his play. And If. as so many father
do. a man places business first in hi
life all during tbe week, and buries
1'lmself In those modern curses, the
Sunday newspapers, on tbe day whea
he is at home, what can he expect from
hia child? It Is a case of the child not
seeing tbe father during tbe week, and
the father not seeing the child on Sun
day. A man must be tbe wage-earner
and tbe family supporter. That I the
duty laid out for hi in. But when that
is accomplished Is It worth bis while to j
push on Into the commercial maze at
tbe expense of tbe sweetening that
should come into the life of every man?
In abort, wbat proflteth It a man sup
pose he gain the whole world and
not know hit own child? Ladies'
Hots Journal.
x '4 .
i . II.
GEO. P. CROWE!!,
ffliifwunr tn E. L. Bllllth.
Oldest Kutabltehed Uouee til the eatley.
DEALER IN
Dry Goods, Groceries,
Boots and Shoes,
Hardware,
Flour and Feed, etc'
This old-establiehed house will con
tinue to pay cash for all ita goods; it
payg no rent; it employg a clerk, but
does not have to divide with a partner.
All dividends are made with customers
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 will be promptly filled.
Regulator Line
STEAMERS
Regulator and Dalles City
Between The Dulles and Portland
Daily Except Sunday.
Leave Dalles 7 A. M.
Arrive Portland 4 P. M.
Leave Portland . . . . 7 A. M .
Arrive Dalles fi P. M.
Leave Hood River (down) at 8:30 A. M.
Arrive Hood River (up) at 3:30 P.M.
W. C ALLOWAY,
General Agent.
Portland -Astoria Route
Str. "BAILEY GATZERT."
Pally round tripe exoept Sunday.
TIME CABU.
Leavca Portland -.7:00 A. M
Leavaa Attorla 7:00 P. M
The Dalles-Portland Route
STEAMERS
"TAHOMA" and "METLAKO-
Dally trips except Sunday.
Str. "TAHOMA."
Leavei Portland, Hon., Wed., Frt 7:00 A. M
Learca The Dalles, Tue., Thuri. Bat., 7:00 A. M
Str. "METLAKO."
Leaves Portland, Tues., Thu., Sat 7:00 A. M.
Leaven The Dal let Mon., Wed., Frl 7:00 A. M.
Landing Foot of Alder Street,
PORTLAND, OREGON.
Both 'Pbonea Main S61.
AGENTS.
JOHN M. FILLOON The Dallei, Or
A. J. TAYLOR . Astoria, Or
PRATHKR & HEMMAN.. Hood River, Or
WOLFOKD & W YERS White Salmon, Wash
J. C. WYATT Vancouver, Wand
R. B. GILBRETH Lyle. Wah
JOHN M. TOTTON Stevenson, Wui
HENRY OLMSI'ED Carton, Waah
Lf. CRICHTON,
Portland, Oregon
Oregon
Shot Line
Union Pacific
AND
rm
(gP
alt Lake, Denver,
Cbltaro I Ft. Worth.Omaha, Portland
Special I Kantaa City, St. Special
U-.tta. m. I Ix)uia,C'hiv(oand Si0tp.aa,
tau
Walla Walla Lewla-
pokene ton. Spokane, Mia- Portland
Flyer nrapolta.St. Paul, 'Iyer
1:27 p.m. Duliith. Mtlwao- 4:10a.m.
kee.ClilcagoAKatt
Salt Iae, Denver,
Mall and Ft. Worth.Omaha, If all tad
Kipraaa Kannat City, St. El pre
11:42. m. Louit.t'aicagoaud :42a.aa
tut.
OCEAN AND RIVER SCHEDULE
MIOSI PORTLAND.
Is a.m. All tailing dates 4Ma.Sa
aubjeet to change
For Ran Franetaeo
Sail every dara
Dally CetMiBkla liter 4
Ci. Sunday tieaiera. Ex. Suadav
IHtt.m. .
Saturday Te Attorla and War
le w . m. Landinga
4:45 a.m. WUhmene nt. 4:S,m.
Ea.Saaday Oregon City, New. tLSuedaf
berg, Salem, Ind.
Kndene Mar
nd 1 nit.
1 OS a m. (THIaaMW e4 Veav I S m.
Toe.. Thar. MM Mnrt. Moe, Wed,
and Sat- aad Frt.
Oregon City, Day.
too, 4 a Leod
Inga, I Ja. wmeaMtte ther.
1 P" He,ed.
sad tat Portland Ut Corral, aad Frt.
lit Way Land-
I lag.
It. RlparU Baaaa liru. Lf.te latea
I , ln- K!pula to Uwlitoa ta.m.
I aal'y dally
Pee lev rate aad ether tnlormatioa im a
A. L. CRAIQ,
7M Paaeeiit Agent. PertUad. On,
U (. Jge-t, Heed Rive.