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.