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THOS. J. ADAMS PROPRIETOR. EDGEFIELD, S. C., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 23, 1898. VOL. LXIII. NO 12. IN THE I The mother rocks in the firelight, Th? little one on her knees, And ber song and the glow of the. ember; Steal through the shadows to me. . And I.iollow the highways of fancy To a valley of long ago, As the mother sings In the firelight, Bocking to and fro. In the heart of that sunlit valley t Is a schoolhouse, prim and white, And the voices of children singing The song she sings to-night; And hills rise blue abova me, And the river is fair below, As the mother sings ia the firelight. Bocking to and fro. i THE CLAO By AD. I HE wagon was old and creaked dis mally, as the lank, rough-coated gray mules dragged it along over Vue frozen prairie road. The har ness was a com bination of ropes and well-worn straps, whose rough edges had here and there rubbed off patehes of hair from the animals' thin sides and sharp backs. On the front seat of the wagon sat a girl, with the lines in her hands. SX* looked to be about nineteen. A niaW of dark-gold curls surmounted her shapely head; her eyes were bright hazel in color, and the breath of the chill wind that crept up nuder the old wagon cover gave a vivid tinting to her pretty cheeks. "Faith, how much farther is it to Uncle Ethan's?" asked a slender boy of ten, who occupied a low bench by the small stove, that stood almost in the centre of the wagon-bed. "A long ways yet, dear," answered the fair driver. "Afore than a Iron * dred mi><? T should say." "I'm gettin' most awful tired," murmured Bessie, a curly-headed mite, little more than five 3 ears old, as she nestled in th^ folds of a huge buffalo robe near her brother. "We are all gettiug tired out, Bes ?ie,"said Faith Haskins, a shadow crossing her brow. "But cheer np, dears, we'll reach Uncle Ethan's some, time this week, I hope. And let us be thankful that we have ev^n this poor shelter from the cold." As she spoke she cast her ejes about the interior of the cauvas-cjv ered wagon, then out across the dreary stretch of houseless prairie, over which scattering flakes of snow had begun to fall. . At the rear end of the wagon was a pile of bed clothes, while near the centre stood the little stove, in which " heerfrti^fice^Tgfls burning:.. -, O^the-I; ridge-pole a?neVo^oTtlISHbows, hung ' several cooking utensils, and under the front seat was a large provision box, a sack of corn-meal, a side of bacon and other necessary articles. Almost a year ago Faith Haskins' father had died, leaviug her alone on a bleak Nebraska claim, with uer little brother and sister, Clint and Bessie. Their mother had died ouly eight months before the father. The sorrow of the lonely orphans was very great, and, being very poor, theie seemed nothing hopeful for them to whieh they could look forward in the future. Faith, however, did not yield to de spair. She went bravely to work to earn a living for herself and the two children left to her care. Besides cultivating a small piece of ground with Clint's help, she had managed to teach a short term of school in the winter. But it had taken nearly all flhe made to pay the doctor's bills and the funeral expenses. Then her mother's brother, Ethan Bartley, who lived on a cattle ranch in Southwest ern Kansas, had written Faith advis ing her to sell the claim for whatever it would bring, and inviting her and Clint and Bessie to come and make their home with him. Very gladly Faith accepted the offer from Uncle Ethan, but finding it im possible to convert their effects into cash, owing to "hard times," she left the claim in charge of a renter and de cided to make the journey by wagon. Many of the young claim-holders in that part of Nebraska would have been happy to have married the girl, but she cared for none of them. The travelers had now reached a point a little south of the centre of Kansas, and were pressing on toward Uncle Ethan's ranch as fast as the jaded mules could draw them. Faith was anxious to reach their destination, as the school near her uncle's home was waiting for her. It was a lonely and desolate sight that met the girl's eyes as they moved slowly along over the brown, cheerless prairie. For miles no sign of human habitation broke the wild monotony, save at long intervals, when a lonely sod shanty or a dug-out could be seen nestling in the rank dead grass. It was about four in the evening when Faith drove the weary mules down a little sloye that led into a low, winding valley. A scant growth of scraggy elms and ghostly sycamores and cottonwoods skirted the small crooked stream, with dense thickets of wild plum and persimmon scattered here and there. A quick glance about decided Faith to stop here for the night. She was just turning from the rutty road into 11 grassy glade, when there was a sharp jolt, and one of the wheels snddenly went down into a deep, rain-washed gully, accompanied by a sound of breaking timbers. An involuntary cry of dismay escaped the driver as she leaned out and saw that one of the wheels was broken! "Oh, Faith! What will we do now?" cried Clint, as he hurried forward to view the wreck. Bessie began to cry bitterly. "Never miud, dears," said Faith, bravely. "We eau get the wheel mended somewhere." She climbed out of the unfortunate wagon and with Clint's assistance began unhitching the team. Bessie, with tear-wet face, watched them from under the canvas-cover. The snow storm was increasing in power and the icy wind blew the flakes through the long, dead grass with a eharp, hissing sound. TltELIGHT, In the heart of that sunlit valley Is a Tolce I used to hear; In the swell of that far off chorus It rises full and clear. And the sheen of a ohildi9h beauty r Comes back with its bloom and gl?n? As the mother sings in the firelight. Bocking to and fro. And lo, as I He here and listen, The vision changes, and then In the heart of a "love lit" valley She is singing that sons again. And I catch in the face of our baby Tho features 1 used to know, As tho mother sings in the firelight, Bocking to and fro. -Albert Bigelow Paine. ?[-JUMPERS. I - yv\ i. GIBSON. ^ As the mules were led from the wagon the sound of approaching hoofs came through the snow-laden air and the next instant two men mounted on sturdy ponies reined in near the broken vehicle. They were men of about thirty, bearded, bronzed and clad in the rough garb usually worn by plains men. Broad-brimmed hats covered their heads and a brace of heavy revolvers was stuck into their wide leathern belts. To one unaccustomed to the dress and manners of plainsmen the sudden appearance of these men might have rinduced a feeling akin to terror. But during the two years and a half which Faith had spent on the Nebraska frontier, she had grown used to such types of Western character. "Good evenin', ma'am," said Ike Barclay, dismounting from his pony. "Had a break down, I see. Bad job!" he remarked, examining the broken wheel. "Yes, sir," answered Faith. "Is there a place near here where I can get the wheel mended?" "Wa-al, thar's ole Berger's black smith shop over by Pete Miley's store, but it's plumb three mile from hyer," replied Ike. Faith looked troubled. "Whar's yer men folks!*" inquired Ike, glancing around. "There are* no men with us," re turned Faith. ""Wot! Yer don't mean to say yer traveliu' alone with only them two kids?" said Jim Hancock. "Yes," answered Faith, simply. "We aro from Nebraska and are on our way to our uncle's ranch on the Arkansas River ia this State." "Wa-al, I'll be-switched!" ex claimed Jim, growing a little red in the face, as he quickly reminded him self that he was in the presence of a woman. "Yer rsee, ma'am," explained Ike, "it seems plumb cur'ons like to see a woman travelin' alone over this lone some .k?ratryr.ia-<^k.T^--Lthor^^JXGt "Vii "[ te.il yer wot Jim an* ine'll do for yer. If yer willin' to trust us, we'll tote that wheel over to ole Berger's shop an' git him to fix it up lor yer." "I hate io trouble you so much," said Faith. "It'll be no trouble to us, ma'am," Jim assured her.- "Ike au' me was goin' over to Pete Miley's store any way." Assisted by his companion, Ike soon had the wagon propped up and the broken wheel removed. Turning to Faith, Jim said: "Ma'am, it's goin' to borough weather to-night, an' I reckon a cabin with a fire-place would be right smart better than campin' byer in the wagon. Thar'd a good cabin beyond thet patch o' tim ber belongs to a friend o' oura-a chap who's visitin' his ole home in Illinoy. Yer welcome to take the kids an' camp thar, if yer will." "I'd be very thankful for shelter from this storm," said Faith. "If the owner wouldn't care-" "He's not one o' them kind-this friend o' oura iu Iliinoy. He's open hearted as a summer day, an' the most go-ahead young settler in these parts," said Jim. Ike led the way to the absent man's cabin, which was on the other side of the timber from where the wagon had stopped. It was a new log structure, tightly daubed with lime and sand. There was a snug fire-place in one corner and the room contained atable, four chairs and a bed. The deer rifle thrown across antlers above the door, and a man's old straw hat, a coat and blue jeans overalls on pegs near the head of the bed proclaimed the fact that the owner must be a bachelor. Jim soon made a roaring fire on the open hearth. Then, after he and Ike had transferred such things as Faith needed from the wagon to the cabin, they mounted their ponies and rode away, carrying the crippled wheel be tween them. They assured Faith that they would fetch it back that night. When the claim-holders, Ike Barc lay and Jim Hancock, reached the blacksmith shop, just back of Miley's general store, they tumbled the wheel to the ground, just as Berger, tall, gaunt and dust-blackened, was closing up for the night. "Hold on, Berger!" called Jim, springing from his pony and begin ning to pusli tho wheel into the shop. "We want this wheel mended up right away to-night!" "Yes, an' do a good job-none o' yer blotchin'!" put in Ike. "We'll pay yer when ye finish." Berger took tho wheel and set to work immediately to repair it. Jim and Ike hitohed their ponies back of the shop, where they were out of the keen wind. Then they started toward Miley's store. Pausing before one of the win dows, they peered within. Miley was tying up a package for a short, fat man with a ragged red woolen scarf around his neck, while a solitary figure was warming at tho stove in the back part of the store. Suddenly an exclamation burst from Jim, and he pointed toward the man by the stove: "Look, Ike! If thar ain't Rob Wood I'll swaller thet wheel!" "Yer right, by ginger!" ejaculated Ike, as he peered in above the rim of frost on the pane at a well-built, hand some young man, about thirty, who, divested of hat and overcoat, was giv ing himself a thorough warming at Pete Miley's rust-begrimed stove. "Wot'll Rob say?" 'Bout his cabin?" "Yes." "Lightnin' aa' razors! I n thought o' thet!" "Say, Ike, I've got an idee!" w pored Jim. "We can have a good on Rob-the best thing out!" "Wot is it?" Jim whispered a few words Ike's ear. Ike broke into a chu of merriment. "We'll do it, by jinison!" he claimed. "It won't hurt thet le woman, and it will pay Bob back some o' his own everlastin' jokes us." Entering the store, they spoke Miley, then strode back to the si to greet their fellow claim-holder. "Jest got back, Rob?" they asl as they shook his hand warmly. "Yes; just got in on the four o'cl train, and walked over from the stat: What's the news?" he asked. "News?" repeated Jim, assumin long and reflective visage. "Wa nothin' much, 'ceptin' ole Kiler's s out an' left. An' lemme see; 3 thar's Sukehouse, he got throwed his broncho an' broke his collar bo Us galloots have been doin' wot could to patch him up. An' th thar's some new settlers comiu' lately-au' wantin' timber claims, jumpin* 'em, too, when they ge chance. But how did yer find folks back yonder in Illinoy?" ' "All well and happy," replied I Wood. "But what's this you ? about claim-jumpers?" "Oh, yes! I reckon yer heerd 'b< yer claim, an'thet's hurried yerbad remarked Ike. "My claim! What do you mear and Bob Wood's blue eyes ' dilai widely. "I thought maybe yer'd heerd 'bc it 'fore now," said Jim, very ini cently. "Wa-al, yer see yer cia has been kinder jumped-a fam: moved into yer shanty. They haA by ginger!" "Do you mean to say that some lo down sneak has dared to jump n claim while I've been gone?" beerie a sudden flame of anger mounting his handsome face. "Looks powerfully thet vay," r turned Jim. "Seed a kivered wage thar, an' smoke pourin' out o' y chimney as we rid over byer." With a quick stride Bob Wo< walked out of the store, got his hon from the stable, where it had bec kept during his absence, and M as soc galloping away through the snow dusk of the early evening. When he was beyond earshot < Miley's store thc two conspirato] went off into roars of laughter, aft? which they let the old store-keep? into their joke. "It's a good one on Wood," sai Miley, joining heartily in the laughtei "an' calls for cigars at Bob's expens< don't it?'.' said Jim. "Exactly," agreed Ike. "Good enough!" said Miley, as h handed out tho box of his choices cigars. ^^T-^??^rr-i?cbr v ^?nrt-gii-?saa-s us?" said Ike. ] "No; a feller thet can give as goo< jokes as Bob can can take one on hin: self," auswerod Jim. Meantime, Bob Wood, his brain ful of wrath at the unprincipled person who had "jumped his claim." wa nearing his cabin. He was too angr to heed the snow and the cuttin, northwest wind. One purpose rule him-to order the claim-jumpers 0: his land at once. He rode into the persimmon thicket where he left his horse out of th storm. Then he strode rapidly towan the cabin. "If they go out quietly there will b no trouble, but if they refuse to go He did not finish the sentence, bu his eyes flashed threateningly. Little Bessie was alone at the cabiu Faith and Clint having gone to th dugout stable to make the mules com fortable for the night. The little girl was holding the doo: partly open, while she looked wonder ingly upward at the vast descent J the snow. The glow of the fire-plac< fell upon her and made her look like 1 snow bound fairy. She gave a start ai Bob Wood suddenly appeared befor< her in the snow-covered path. "Where's your pa, littlegirl?" askec Bob, as he pushed past ht r. "Ha's gone," answered Bessie,look ing shyly at this abrupt visitor. "Gone! Where to?"" he asked. "Gone to Heaben," said the Hitit girl, simply. "Humph!" muttered Bob, to him self. "I didn't know claim-jumpen went there!" i Then he glanced hastily around the ! room. There was his table bearing the remnants of a supper, while in ar opposite corner a few boxes and some bedding were stacked away. "Well," he said, dryly, "it's verj plain they have come to stay." Besides, remembering how Faith always treated her company, closed .the door, and brought a chair up tc the fire-place. "Won't you have a seat an' warm?" she asked, looking into the young man's handsome face. "No, little one," he answered quickly, but the severe expression on his face changed to one of tenderness as he gazed down into the pretty, in nocent eyes of the tiny hostess. He liked children, and, banishing for the time being the thought that some o? her folks were doing him great un kindness in thus appropriating his claim, he gave her a paper of mixed candies, which he had bought at Miley's. He had just received Bes sie's thanks when the door opened and Faith entered the cabin. The eyes of Faith Haskins and Bob Wood met in one lonft, searching glance. She turned pale anti leaned baok against the door. Bob was him self at first too agitated to sper.k. Becovering himself, however, he ap proached the girl. "Faith! Faith Haskins!" he cried. "Is it, indeed, you?" "Yes, Bob," she managed to artic ulate. "I never expected to see you again." She had a struggle to keep the tears back. The sight of Bob Wood had brought the past all back and made her feel strangely weak and un nerved. "Come, Faith," said Bob, taking he? hand with a touch that thrilled her, "sit down by the fire there aud tell me all about your life since you left Illinois." A few minutes later, when Glint caine in, he found Bessie sitting coz Hy on the knee of a flned^oking stranger by the fire-place,;|while Faith, in a chair opposite him, was telling how they came t x be there. It was about two hours late?.when Ike and Jim' returned wita the*mend ed wheel. They were somewhat sur prised to find Eob at the covered wagon whistling away to himself, as if he was the happiest man orijthose prairies. "Hello, Hob!" they called. |*4,Wot of them claim-jumpers?" v JL. "They've got possession; and. are going to keep it," he returned. Then Ike and $m laughed abd Eob joined in heartily. "Well, boys, you've had yoiir joke and now I'll tell you how it's Jbrned out," said Eob. "Back inSlinois this brave* little woman, Fai^Has kins, and I went to school together. Our parents were near neighbors and we were lovers from childhood/. But her father didn't think I was mjtich ac count for anything but to twang a guitar or fiddle, so when he started to Nebraska with his family he told me frankly his objections and that>X must not think of Faith. But I (H&think of her and went on loving hy? more than ever. I gave up my idlejjiabits, taught school a few terms", the?r came here and took this timber^ffelaim. When I had a good home of my. own to offer her I intended to hunt3?aith's folks up and win her. It wasjchiefiy to get on their track that I weat back to my old home. From onjftof the neighbors I found out that $tr. and Mrs. Haskins were both def??? and Faith was still unmarried. Th?i's why I hurried back. I was going ,t? make things a little more comfortabl&at my cabin. Then I was going up iftto Ne braska to find Faith. But kind hand guided her to my cabitfout of the storm, and neither she Jffpr the children jjkall suffer for the qomforts of this life as long as I amiable to work for them. I am goin|? to go with them to their uncle's r#bch on the Arkansas Eiver. But justis soon as Faith's visit there is finishecTshe is comiug back with me. Yoa|;under stand me, boys?" ;i "Wa-al, now, I'm not the dimest ole grab-hoe on these prairies, I jr|ckon!" returned Ike, with a grin.-N?jwY?rk Ledger. becom -1| SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL. Painting is now done by compressed air. Ceilings of stamped steel artfl ing popular. The chemical name of Eps?i l. salts is sulphate of magnesia. Au Italian inventor has irj?f?nted^a boat with steel fim, which is jfopelled solely b}rthe motion of the sm-water. It goes best in rough AreatherJ^ Sufferers from neuralgia awwarned by a medical writer not to dqmk tea, but to partake freely of- coffee into whack the juice of a lemoujuas been squeezed. Electro magnets capabJe^oi?pickjng_ .gp & jua?mvjv X>^UCCTS-S?T^.-^-. ^pfc&f^W?i?z used by the Illinois steel company to transfer steel beams or plates from one part of the shop to another; The weight of a man's brain has, it is said, nothiug to do with his mental power. It is a question of climate, not of intellect. The colder the cli mate, the -greater the size of the brain. Acetylene can be neither manu factured nor sold in Great Britain now save by express permission of the Homo Secretary, the prohibition be ing made in a recent Order in Council. Measurements have shown the thick ness of tho human hair to vary from the two hundred and fiftieth to the six hundredth part of an inch. Blonde hair is the finest, and red hair the coarsest. A French naturalist named Galien has made the startling discovery at Nimes that if a sparrow is put in the same cage with finches it will soon learn to imitate their song like amook ing-bird; also tho chirping of a cricket. The success of the cyclometer on bi cycles has resulted in their being at tached to cabs in several European cities, principally Berlin, Dresden and Leipsic, by wbich the exact distance traveled can be computed Toy occu pants, leaving the cabman little chance to charge more than the legal rates. Attacked by a Gray Kacie. While Peter Egelston was cutting railroad ties near Cascade, N. Y., he found the deserted nest of a gray eagle. While examining the nest and its con tents he heard a loud noise, and sud denly thc old eagle had struck him in tho face with bill and claws, and, taking a circuit through the air, alighted on a tree about 200 yards distant, but in plain view of the nest. Again the bird made an attack, aim ing at Egelston's head, but he avoided her, and she struck him on the arm, making a slight wound. She returned to her post, of observation, but soon made a third attack when Egelston struck her with a club and brought her to the ground, where, after a severe struggle, he succeeded in killing her. She measured seven feet two inches across the outstretched wing's.-New York Press. A Dainty Breath. If the breath is tainted after eating onions, drink strong coffee noir, or chew coffee berries, or a stick of cinna mon, and wash the mouth out with camphor and myrrh. The following recipe can bo used with great advan tage for unpleasant breath: Powdered charcoal, one part; white sugar, one part; chocolate, three parts; melt and mix together, and eat in the form of lozenges. The teeth must always bo kept perfectly clean, and should be well brushed with salt and charcoal every now and then. Ten drops of myrrh in a glass of warm water should also be used to rinse ont the mouth and to brush the teeth every few days. -New York World. . The Terrible Dum-Dum Bullet?. Dum-dum bullets work both ways on tho Indian fiontiers, as the Afridi tribesmen are blunting the bullet tips, too. The two pipers of the Gordon Highlanders, who distinguished them selves at Dargai, lost, one his leg, the other his foot, owing to the terrible splintering of the bone, caused by the "modified" Lee-Metford missiles. lll-Omened liant Wind. There are twenty-two allusions in the Bi.?le to the east wind, nineteen of them being of a disparaging ohar aoter, i FIGHTING SNOW DEERS.' THE WHITE FOE OF TRAFFIC IN THE CANADIAN NORTHWEST. Hallway Lines Blockaded By Sweeping Avalanches-An Army of Men Be* quired to Clear the Tracks-Great Snow Sheds For Protecting the Trains. "North America is the battle ground of the biggest snow fights on earth. There are thousands of men in the northwest whose only occupation dur ing the winter months is to light snow. It is exciting work, too, a life that in volves the greatest hardships and con tinual risks. One might search the world over for a more desperate and dangerous employment." ? It was a Canadian Pacific engineer THU ENGINEER AFTER A RIDE IN A STORM. who spoke. We were traveling over the Rocky Mountains nt midnight. Throngh the glass-paneled door at the tail of tho train one could see the icy crests of tho Mountains in the pale moonlight. In the wake of the sum mer fires the trees stood up thin and rakish, like the masts of ships. Else . where tb ey wera shrouded with droop ing branches and spattered stems, in the universal snow. The snow gave an impressive sense of peacefulness to the impenetrable silence of the moun tains. I looked out upon the solemn stillness, the broad stretches of mo tionless white, the deep.passages of avalanches carved along the mountain aides, with 'a feeling of awe for the immensity of the power that had so changed the face of nature. THE ROTARY F But the railroad mau had no illusions. To him the snow was a foe, a foe to be feared, a foe against whom men and engines had often measured their strength in vain. Every now and then tho scenery was blotted out; the glass panels sud denly showed us nothing but the re flection of the oar and bobbing light of tho overhead lamp. They vere snow sheds through which the train was passing. The railroad, cut like a single stop in the side of the mountain . chasm, was roofed in ns snugly as a house. Above, for all we knew, the snow might be tumbling head-long over the slippery ledge in a tempest of passion; but for all its malevolence, impotent to inflict an injury to tho poor snake of a train hiding beneath its shelter. These snow sheds have been erected among the mountains at an enormous cost. They aro of massive timber work-heavy beams of squared timber, dovetailed and bolted together, and backed with rock. They are fitted into tho mountain so that they be come, as it were, a part of the moun tain side, so as to bid defiance to the most terrific avalanche. Anything may precipitate an ava lanche down the steep declivities of thoso piled-up precipices, among which the single-track railway looks like a pin's scratch would on the hand of man. It need be no more than a loos ened scrap of rock that has started rolling downwards with no forethought of the immeasurable cataclysm that its passage will create. In a few yards it has become imbed ded in a mighty mass of moving snow, a wool-white torrent licking up the leviathan trees ns it passes like straws swept up in a storm of autumn leayas, growing more venomous, more power ful, more irresistible, until the rush of the wind before it clears a passage through the forest anticipating its ravages, removing all obstacles as the outriders to a royal equipage make way through n mass of human beings. It is truly a royal foe that the rail road men of tho northwest have to encounter among the mountains. Au onrushing, terrific force, something which cauuot be checked. It is nec essary to resort to subterfuge, to cheat it, to hide from it, or to make good by artificial means the path that the rail way has struck out for itself. Among the Cascade Mountains I have seen seven and eight engines linked together charging impotently against tho snowbanks, and nt night time there is no more wonderful sight than this, each hissing engine throw ing its sheath of firelight on tho ten ders, with their heavy loads of wood fuel, on the gleaming snowbanks, on the great trees seeming to pressroun 1 to mock by their stillness all this use lesa fuss and hwy, thia powerless rag ing, this r?sultions disturbance of their peace. Under favorable circumstances, the snow parts readily before the onslaught of the plow. At times, however, un der the battery, to which it is sub jected, it only becomes more rigidly compressed, more solid, more impen etrable at each renewed charge, a solid, unbudging block of ice. The engine may go back a mile, the throt tle may be thrown open, it may rusk upon the barrier at a speed of forty or fifty miles au hour, but when the snow ' dust has cleared sufficiently for the engineers to see around them, it may be that they have only advanced a yard, posssibly the eugine fires have been extinguished, not improbably the engine may have been thrown off the line. The one recourse which then re mains is to call in the assistance of a small army of men, that a way may be forced through the snow with pick and shovel, and, while these opera tions are progressing, the passenger train has to bo kept constantly on the move, lest in a few hours it become incapable of movement at all. At such a time it ia no unusual thing to. see several hundred men at worki on a single drift. Perhaps eight or a dozen platforms are cut in the snow, and thus what is removed from the line is passed upward from stage to' stage, climbiug the steep walls in tiny I shovelfuls, until it finally reaches tho; open waste, thirty or forty feet above the heads of the workers on the ground level. The men are brought to the spot in special trains and fed and housed as best they can be. They work day and night, sometimes shoveling for thirty six hours at a stretch. The thing that has simplified the task of snow fighting more than any thing else, esp?cially in the prairie; country, is the rotary'plow. The ap-; pearauce of the "rotary. " as it is fa-: iniliary called by railroad men, re-: minds one of nothing so mnch as the screw propeller of a steamship. It ia1 a huge rosette of flanges, about twelve feet in diameter, that bores its way into snowbanks, clearing just enough space to enable the waiting train to j pass through. Aa the winter goes on,, the snow is piled higher and higher on both sides, until we have the per4 pendicular embankment through which! the traiu often passes for miles with-1 out a break. As the wheel revolves, the snow; chips pass back through the intervals between the shovels, fall into a large sized fan elevator, and are hurled forth on this side or that side of the line, according to the quarter from' LOW AT WORK. which the wind is blowing. In a graceful arch of silver dust, the snow is flung into the air to a hight of sixty or seventy feet, descending like a fountain over the half-buried posts of the telegraph. From the smoke stack a volume of fire is rising. There is an uproar like the sound of artillery gal loping over a cobbled street. Asa spectacular effect the snow plow is a great success. Some of the bigger plows weigh over fifty tons by them selves, and with the machinery that operates them the total weight is over 100 tons. The cutter, with its own private en gine, as it were, is placed ou a mass ive truck which is inclosed like the cab of a locomotive and linked to a heavy freight engine, the "Hog." Following behind this travels another eugine drawing its load of tools and ita complement of workers. The men who operate a snow plow draw high wages, the expenses in this respect on one job amounting to over a $150 a day. A rotary in good hands will clear a snow blockaded track at the rate from two to twelve miles an hour; but the consumption of coal is one ton in 30 minutes. 'How a Chameleon Changes Color. The chameleon is a little lizard, who poasesses the wonderful power of changing his color to suit bia own con venience. Florida produces several species of these lizards in abundauoe. Up to the present day no one has un derstood the process by which tue lit tle lizard effects his changes. Now it ia known. Certain colors through the medium of the optic nerve produce a contrac tion or expansion of the pigment or color cells. The result is a protective tint or one whioh resembles that upon which the animal ia resting. The ?ye receives the stimulus or impression, which passes from the optic nerve to the sympathetic nerve, so reaching the various series of the lizard's little color cells under the skin. The pigment cells are distributed all over thc body with more or less regu larity, and upon their contraction and THE LITT DP. CHAMELEON' WHEN BLIND FOLDED CAN'T CHANGE COLOB. expansion depends the prevailing color of the animal. The scientist discovered this by blindfolding a lizard, and found that when it couldn't see the color of the surrounding foliage it ceased to chftuge its own color, Women's Restaurants. There are said to be not more than f- dozen restaurants in New York City devoted to women. These are in the big department stores and in the shop ping district. There is no feeing of waiters at these places. Exclusive Colors. A famous French firm is showing some ?xelusive colors for 1898. Mode and gray tones are prominent, and the new turquoise blue shades to peacock and finally blends into porcelain or water blue, which promises to be an especia' favorite. A Woman Brakeman. A woman brakeman is the latest in novation, in a field heretofore held in violate to man. Mrs. Jessie Mulligan, the widow of James Mulli"*?, a rail road conductor, who was kilted on the Yellowstone division of the Northern Pacific Railroad six months ago,is non working for the company in the ca pacity of freight train bri-iceman. She is reported as taking kindly to her new sphere of activity, setting brakes, coupling cars, turning switches, and performing various other duties as well as the ordinary brakeman.-New York Tribune. Tarllainent's "Typist." Miss May Ashworth, the official typewriter to the houses of Parlia ment-typist, they call her in England -has held that position since March, 1895, when she received the appoint ment from Herbert Gladstone, who was then Commissioner of Works, says the New York Press. She has a room set apart for the use of her staff of assistants in St. Stephen's Hall, but so great has been the demand for their services that for the coming session an additional room is to be set apart for this purpose. Miss Ashworth seldom goes to the house herself, the office being con ducted by one of her managers. In addition to this work Miss Ash worth has a large office in "Victoria street, where she conducts a typewrit ! iug school, and also has a large corps of assistants for the usual stenographic and copying work. She has been in business for ten years, and her offices have grown from two rooms ou a top floor to an entire suite on the first floor of the Victoria Street Mansion. . A Hastily Arranged Sinner. Sometinffes in social, life it so hap pens that one ia obliged to build up an elaborate structure around some without any particular wish or- even necessity. -"On the spur of the mo ment," said a*society woman recently, "I asked Mrs. A. to dine with me next week-hardly thinking, I am ashamed to say, that such a popular person would be disengaged, but it just happened that she was free, and she accepted. Under ordinary cir cumstances I would, of coarse, have been delighted to have had her, but at such short notice it meant the con struction of a dinner under tho most adverse circumstances. I asked scores of people and used up reams of note paper. Many persons I did not dare to ask on such short notice, without having asked them before, so I was handicapped in the direction whence I might havo obtained help. Finally, however, I did succeed in getting a respectable number together, and Mrs. A. came and expressed herself delighted with her entertainment, but she will never know what it cost me." -New York Tribune. Economy in Home Dressmaking. It is a mooted question with econ omical mothers whether it pays best to have gowns and frocks made in the house, or whether the expense of hav ing a dressmaker by the day does not in the end amount to more than if the work was given out. This depends entirely, a woman of experience tells us, on whether the dressmaker finds the work to be done planned out, and everything ready f >r her experienced fingers. As a rule, half her time is spent in getting ready for her work. The sewing machine requires to be cleaned and oil, gowns that are to be altered need ripping and basting and pressing, buttons and hooks and eyes are missing when most needed, and so on. In short, it is system that is needed, system and forethought, aud with these handmaidens it does pay to have clothes made at home. They are then made more becoming, fit bet ter, and, an everyone knows, they are more durable. With summer frocks this is especially the case, and in many a household directly nttev the holi days the preparations begin for the ensuing season. These should be made, however, before the dressmaker comes, not afterward; the dresses should be altered, should be ripped, brushed or washed, and pressed. New garments should have requisite linings, trimmingp and all other ac cessories. The sewing room should be well stocked with needles, pius, tapes,, hooks and eyes, both black aud white; sharp scissors, large and small; machine needles, etc. Somer member of the household should be delegated to the seamstress as an as sistant. There is no need for skilled labor to sew on hooks and eyes, make buttonholes or do unimportant work. If the small details are all attended to beforehand the home dressmaker is not only an economy, but a pleasure, for there is an enjoyable excitement in purchasing in midwinter the deli cate fabrics intended for spring and summer, and preparing for the long, sweet days to come. Gossip. Mrs. Eliza Anu Colburu, of Boston, ivho died some time ago, leaves by her will the sum of SIG,OOO to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Ani mals. The tailor-made girl declared that ?he never really felt her costume was a success until a railway conductor stuck her ticket into the band on her big Alpine hat. Vera Caldwell, a little ghi of three, sings iu the choir of. the Presbyterian Cliurcli of Maryland, Mo. According to the St. Louis Kepublio, her voice can be heard in every part of the church. Miss Blanche Hall, of "Wellington, Kan., recently shot and killed twenty seven jack rabbits, receiving a bounty from the Connty Treasurer of three cents a head. Mrs. Hall is an enthuui-. astic sportswoman. Mrs. Craigie, the English novelist, when asked why she chose so prosaic a norn de plume as John Oliver Hob bes, when she possessed the attractive name of Pearl, replied, "To keep me from being sentimental." Mrs. Annie Metcalf, of Denver, has just been appointed as Warden on the Staff of the Game Commissioner of Colorado. There is only one other woman Game Warden in the country. She is Mrs. Warren Neal, of Michigan. Princess Theresa, of Bavaria, daughter of the Prince Begent, has been made an Honorary Doctor of Philosophy by the University of Munich. She is also a member of the Boyal Academy of Sciences, is forty eight years old and a spinster. The Lend-a-Hand Club is an organs ? ization formed by a body of Baltimore women. Its object is to promote any just and good cause in the State. A committee of . the"'club has been ap pointed to visit^ New York and study the policy and methods of metropolitan clubs. The only woman bank cashier in the country is Mrs. Sarah F. Dick. She has filled the position in the First ?j National Bank of Huntington, Ind., for over twenty-three years, and re cently she was re-elected. Mrs. Fred erick Drover serves with Mrs. Dick on the Board of Direotors. London's experiment with women members on the Board of Education pr School Board, as it is known there -is evidently meeting with more suc cess than when the plan was tried here. .No less than eight women have gained seats on the new board, most of whom were ?lready well known for* theil- connection with public interests. Victoria University has elected a . woman, Miss Alice Cooke, M. A., on its governing council. It is the first instance of the appointment of .a wom an to such a post in England. The University is of recent creation, formed by the Association of. Owens College, Manchester, University College, Liverpool, and Yorkshire College, JLieeds._? ' " -?UitfmieH-m xuamuii;-;--r Suede belts with steel buckles. Silk nets for sashe. and fichus. Boman-striped satin petticoats. Cross-striped ribbon for plaiting. Colored tulle having dots of che nille. Moire having large polka dots in satin. Pointed effects in crochet? 1 garni tures. Two-toned and checked Covert cloths. Quantities of plaid gingham shirt waists. Corduroy and uncut velvet is steel shades. Velvet waists having spangled fronts. White and gilt braid, round, for braiding. Brilliant fancy and clan plaids in ginghams. Gray, brown, tan and mode shades in hosiery. Bussian fronts of pear' and white satin ribbon. Nainsook edgings in lace and ap plique effects. Striped gauze in gaufre effeota for evening wear. Shirt waists having a lapped and pointed top cuff. Bead trimmings set with large and small turquoise. Colored silk-cord sets for skirt and waist decoration. Light-weight white woolen dress ' goods for the evening. Tiny toques of embroidered velvet, ostrich tips and real lace. White, pearl, ficelle, m?nve and faint-pink kid evening gloves. . . Colored fishnet for overdresses in tended for the evening. Mixed poplin and grsnite or crepon weaves in spring goods. Batiste petticoats with accordion ruffles inserted with lace. Applique bands of silk embroidery with flower centres of chifl?n. White, blue, pink, green, etc., pique wais-ts in shirt and blouse style. White gauze apparently powdered with rose petals of several shades, Formerly Mrs. Tom Thumb. The handsomest dwarf this country has ever seen, the Countess Magri, formerly Mrs. Tom Thumb, is still a well-preserved woman, and has just been giving demonstrations of cookery at a food fair in Boston. She wore a small white apron, and while prepar ing the dishes on a raised platform lectured entertainingly about the cook ing she had encountered during her travels over the earth. The countess waa born in Massachusetts fifty-six years ago, and her real name waa Mercy Lavinia Bump. She was mar ried in 1863 to General Tom Thumb, who died fourteen years ago, his widow taking another husband, not a dwarf, several years later.-Boston Herald. An Ancient Office. The sheriffs of London bear, per i haps, the must ancient offioes in the j kingdom. It is supposed to date from 11189. Edward IV. gave the citizens the right to elect their own sheriffs, I who had jurisdiction over the connty I of Middlesex also.. Becent legisla : tion has created a sheriff of Middlesex, : and also a sheriff of the connty of . London; but the citizens still elect 1 t wo sheriffs of the city.