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ITHE NATIONAL BANK OF AUGUSTA , HAYNS, Proa't. F. G. FORD, Cashier. Capital, $250,000. Unairided'proflte } $110,000. . Facilillos of oar magnificent Kew Vault [eratalnlng 410 Safety-Lock Boxes. Differ ??nt Sizes are offered to our patrons and the public at ?3.00 to 810.00 per annum, THOS. J ADAMS PROPRIETOR, EDGEFIELD, S. C.. WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 28. 1901. tl ?n THE PLANTERS LOAN AND SAVINGS BANK, AUGUSTA, GA. Pays Interest on Deposits. Accounts Solicited. L. C. H ii y ne. President. Chas. C. Howard, Cashier. * VOL. LXVI. NO. SS. Diamonds; W A ware, Libbey's Brio-?-Brae- El $ Wedding Invitations, Engraved Vi g| Plate and 100 Cards $1.05. Watch T ^ mond Setting and Engraving done ? OLD GOLD 1 9 NEW GOODS. 1 WM. SCHWEIGERT . 702 Brood St., OT .MtBEJiT Novelties in Jewelry. Novelties ?n jewelry are constantly appearing. Both new and smart is a long chain of Eastern cut gems, and irregular pearls and turquoise string.-? wound about the neck are gaining in favor rapidly. A lovely brooch of shaded enamel is made like a wild rose, but has the odd addition of a cherub's head in raised gold in the centre. Amethysts are worn, once more, after long disuse, and often are combined with diamonds. j The Popular Girl. The type of girl that everybody likes is she who appreciates the fact that she cannot always have the first choice of everything, nor does she want it She is the girl who is not too bright to be able to find brightness in every one, and pleasure in everything; she is neither aggressive nor a tale bearer ncr a fMilt finder. She ls tactful, kind and-pleased with every attention. She ls. In fact, the girl who makes the world a pleasant place because she . ls part of it and you like her because you feel she likes you.-Ai Queen. ^ ' A New Coiffure. There ls a new coiffure. It Yr\ -by those English beauties, tht lilapiwy1 Ml i iii'"ni.jin mill haag MI ^Princess of'Piers, and by tba ^can beauty Lady Curzon. It _ colff of the season, and many art characteristics. It is built very low. It is very large, though not cumber some by any means. It suggests an old-fashioned type, while being strictly new. And, finally, it ls easy to do up, though it looks difficult. The new coiffure is built very low at the back of the head. To accom plish it it is necessary to go back to one's schoolgirl days, wb?n the hair was twisted in a double loop at the back. The hair must be worn more closely than it was in the schoolgirl days, and, to keep it snug, must be tied at the back, just between the ears, and almost at the neck. Now, with one hand, the hair must be twisted, and with the other it must "be pinned as it twists. If done just right it will fall In a double loop and will hang pretty low at the back. The hairdressers who do things so very well have a faculty of using hair pins. Not less than twenty are put in this knot, and the pins are located at each side and at the top in a steady profusion. It is faddy to use pins that exactly match the hair, and those of amber-hued hair are selecting amber pms, while the pure blonde is using the pure blonde pin of gold. The ra ven-haired girl may wear gilt pins if she chooses, but they must be very bright and pretty, or they will look out _ of place.-Detroit Free Press. Girl Si ucl un ts Who Cook. A girl who has to work while at col lege has certain advantages at Ober lin, as Miss Alice Fallows points out In the Century: . For the Oberlin girl who prefers to concentrate her housewifely talents on herself. Keep Home, an old-fash ioned rambling .house owned by the college, provides rooms at fffty cents a week. With the little cook stove which is part of the furniture of every room, a frying pan and a coffee pot, she has all the paraphernalia neces sary for her frugal meals. Her break fast oatmeal simmers while she is dressing. At noon she slips a potato into the oven with one eye on her Latin grammar, and completes her midday meal with a dish of canned corn, perhaps, and an egg or two. Sup per becomes simple or elaborate, ac cording to her appetite and the state of her funds. Meat ls sometimes in cluded in the bill of fare, but to the girls at Keep Home it often ceases to be a daily necessity. Some of them from the neighboring country, and pa rental visists more or less frequently result in a supply of eggs and vegeta bles, or bread and cake, which the mother has made with loving thoughts of her college girl. But the student who comes from a distance and has no convenient link between herself and the home larder can live very reasonably and wholesomely at Keep Home if she has even a working knowledge of the chemistry of foods. jOne student's weekly expenses, in cluding room rent, fuel, light and food, amounted to $1.05, and her meals, she said, were plentiful and good. Week ly expenses, with very careful plan ning, can be brought down to $1, and occasional girls have lived on seventy five cents, but not without a loss of physical strength, which left them in poor condition for college work. Some times girls get only their breakfast and supper, taking dinner in one of lb? boarding houses of the -towo, and, !.?.?.?.?.?.? atch?s, Jewelry, Sterling Silver- g| Fine -Cut Glass; Clooks, Vases, siting Cards: lepairing,Dia by experts. 'AKEN IN EXCHANGE ^OIl SEND FOR CATALOGUE. & CO., Jewelers. Augusta, Ga. , working ont the cost of it, which is ten cents or more, by washing the dishes and setting the table afterward. Keep Home for more than forty 3 ears has been the refuge of poor stu dents. While college life for its occu pants, perhaps, has not been so full of color and enjoyment as for the girls who needed to take no anxious thought for the morrow, they have made the most of the blesslnps they could have, and. without exception, by their achievements in the world have made Oberlin proud to acknowledge them as graduates. Mrs. Mackay, the American million aire's wife, is holding aloof from Eng lish society. A needlewoman who devotes herself largely to making children's Russian blouses has completed her fourth hun dred, made within the last three years. Mrs. H. N. May, a Chicago woman of leisure and culture, has accepted an appointment as a volunteer inspec tor of streets and alleys in the precinct in which she resides. . New York State Division of the Uni ted States Daughters of 1812 has un veiled a tablet at West Point to the memory of the officers, soldiere and sailors of the war of 1S12. Thirty thousand women registered in Chicago in 1894, and voted for school officers-their first opportunity .rjcp thor time the number regis ways oeeu luoic ?>.{??i -w English than the men, kind treatment has so affected the Boer widows who are refugees in the British camps that many of them are marrying British non-commissioned officers. The birthday anniversary of Chris tine Nilsson was recently celebrated at her old home In Sweden, and the famous vocalist attended and sang for the people. She is now in her fifty-ninth year, and for some time bns lived in practical retirement. The work of the two women recently appointed as assistants on the Board of Factory Inspectors in Germany has proved so satisfactory that the Bud get Commission of the lower house of the Prussian Legislature has recom mended the appointment of other women to similar position. One of the three women who have been honored in England by public statues to their memory was Dorothy Patterson, or, as she was called, "Sis ter Dora." Although a school mistress she studied medicine to relieve suffer ing, and often ministered to the pa tients at the risk of her own life. One-button gloves, usually of suede, are worn with fussy sleeves. Picture hats of pleated straw and tulle, with trimming of a single large French feather, are among the newest conceits. Burnt straw, with garniture of vel vet ribbon and acacia blossoms, repre sents n strikingly pretty hat by a French designer. Organdies, and in fact, all thin gowns that have a tendency to elab orateness, have elbow sleeves, finished with either frills or cuffs. The fashion of wearing the hair low seems to be increasing. It is waved at the sides and slightly puffed aud coiled in a soft twist at the nape of the neck. Buttons of smoked pearl, mother of pearl and imitation colored stones of various kinds now appear with an ap plique in the form of a delicate trac ery in gilt, silver or alumnium. A pretty hat, which is of white horse bair, has lines of black at the edge of ea cn braid running around the hat, dots of black on the braids, and a row of tiny pink roses on the edge. Pretty and reasonable head-covering can be found in the way of simple outing hats. One large flat In a light straw has the top covered with a net work of black velvet bands, and bows fastened In the front with a bucklo of SOl<L i;-,'^?*i Skirts of pique, linen, duck and crash, or butcher's linen of heavy weave, for beach and mountain wear, are almost universally made just to clear the ground. They are still close about the hips, and there is no decided flare below the knees. One of the newest skirts to wear with odd blouses ls made of taffeta muslin, which is something a blt thick er than gauze. They are trimmed with side pleatings from the knees down, each one edged with either black velvet ribbon or narrow taffeta bands, i Rush Travc V BY BELL "Thirty years of age, possessor of a handsome fortune and a handsome face; and already become cynical! Se riously, Rush, I would ?dvise yoii to become a hermit. I think a few months so spent would raise you to the appreciation of your blessings. Take it into consideration, old fel low. Au revoir!" And Harry Withers, touching his hat, hurried off at the corner of the street the two friends had approached together. Rush Travers walked on alone. The words to which he had just listened had been lightly, jestingly spoken, but somehow they had hurt. Was it true that he was ungrateful? Did the heart never cry out, in its emptiness, even when filled with the favor of fortune, the good will of men, the caressing smiles of women? Did not the two latter hang upon the former? What man, what woman cared for the man and not the outward surroundings which he owed to chance? The one true heart on which he might have leaned was stilled forever. Ten years before, in the first flush of his young manhood he had lost his mother. There now remained for him but a cherished, idolized memory. His father had died in his infancy. He had neither brother nor sister. At 25 he had fallen In love with a woman whose falseness he had dis covered in time to save the wreck of his life, though scarcely of his happi ness. He stood alone in the world-alone on his richly-freighted bark. Could all its treasures atone for the realiz ing sense of desolation the world im parted? "Will you buy my violets, please, sir? Oniy a dime, sir." It was a sweet, pitiful, pleading voice-a sweet, little pitiful face, look ing at him from beneath the brim of a tattered hat, thrust on to a mass of bright, chestnut curls. Children were Rush Travers' weak ness. At any time he could take into his arms a crying child and hush its sorrow. He thrust his hand into his pocket and drew therefrom a piece of silver, which he placed in the tiny, out stretched palm; then, from very idle ness, he walked on, questioning the little girl, who ran beside him. "Poor little waif. How singularly pretty she is," he thought. "And your father I" "He is dead, too." "With whom do you live?" "With a woman who is kind to me, and whom I pay by selling my flow ers. I am all alone in the world." Alone in the world! Who can real ize as he, the pathetic eloquence held In the simple avowal'? But if to him the word meant so much-to him in the piide and strength of manhood, and position, and wealth-what new meaning did it gather when it includ ed dependence, and poverty, and wom anhood? A sudden thought came to him. lt was almost an inspiration. He looked once more, earnestly, searchingly, into the little, upturned face. The child was beautiful; the eyes were large and truthful; the mouth showed character, which might be molded for good or evil. "Pansy," he said, scarcely conscious of his own intention until the words had escaped him, "you say that you are alone in the world. So am I. Sup pose I make you my little girl? Do you think that you would be happier?" "Do you mean that I am to live with you, and bring you the money for my flowers? OR, I should like that very, very much." "I mean that you should live with me, yes; but you will not sell flowers then, though you shall have all tin t you want." The child looked up In wondering amazement She could not compre hend the words, but Rush Travers had not uttered them lightly. What he should make of the little waif's future he had not '1otermined. It should greatly depend upon herself; but while he lived? she should never again be friendless. It was an easy matter to, gain the consent of the woman with whom she she lodged. The sum he put into her hands would more than requite her for any loss she might suffer through Pansy's flower selling. From the woman, too, he learned something more about the child's history. Her parents were artists; the mother had eked out a scanty living by painting flower pictures on wood, after her hus band's death, which had occurred be fore Pansy's birth. Then, when the little girl was about six years of age, two short years before, she, too, had laid down the weary burden of life, and the child was left alone. Of his new whim Rush Travers said nothing. It leaked out, however, among his fashionable acquaintances that he was interested in a little child, but all supposed it some relative, and looked upon it as a passing caprice. Ho wished that it should be so. Ile did not want curious eyes prying into the past of one whose future he in tended to make his care. The world saw little of him in these days. It almost seemed to him like coming home, now that he knew little feet would run to welcome him. little arms clasp themselves about his neck; or later, a little curly head rest on his shoulder, while .the lids drooped over the pansy eyes, In happy, care less slumber. The old housekeeper alone shared his secret. She had abused him round ly at first, as was her privilege. Was ?rs' ?aprice. _= e BLOSSOM: he not to her as her own boy? Pansy had crept into the lund old heart; and in the night she had risen from h own bed, and stolen into the room ad joining hers, to se? that th? clothed were carefully tucked about the litwg form; It was a new thing to the child; i?m watchful care, but she grew and ex panded under it like some beautiful flower. No one detected her in an untruth.. She avowed her faults boldly. She laughed, she sang, she cried, as other, children; yet about her was a singular; charm, a half-sadness, strangely un like the carelessness of childhood. I Thus two years rolled away, and again Rush Travers determined-to go abroad. Pansy must be educated, too; but he knew now what he meant to do with her future. The child was dear to him as his own, and his own she should be. He would give .her such an education as his own daugh ter should have had, had he possessed one. He would make her a brilliant woman. She should be worthy of some man whom he would choose for her husband. 3he would never know lone liness more, and in the fullness of her life's promise he would forget the emptiness of his own. "Uncle Rush," she called him. The past was already to her like a dream, She parted from him in bitter tears when he left' her at her new home, the school at which she was to be edu^^ cated. Little did Mme. Arnaud dream that she was receiving among her select and fashionable pupils a street flower girl. Was this giri not the niece and ward of the aristocrat? She had never welcomed a pupil with greater pride, nor did the years, as they Came and went, lead her for one moment td suspect the truth. Among all this fair bevy of girls none so fair as she,who owed the smooth outer current of her life to Rush Travers' passing caprice. The deep blue eyes had borrowed even more of the pansy's purple tint; the bright rose flush of health was on her cheeks; the rich carmine nature's brush alone can paint was upon her lips. Itt the sunny waves' of the chestnut hair played gleams of rippling gold. Her hands and feet were small and dainty. Her figure had developed into exquisite grace. ..- ? i : . .. .'*? -?jv .-, . . eXP^cTT v .:.;; ,: Jv-" ..-.-..v. s.,.-.* T Cvt: k ? *<?.r: ... ; . 1 out, wiien iuc uw. Cy._i '. . at the radiant vision which entered. She threw herself upon his breast, with a glad sob, then started back. "Uncle Rush," she said questioning ly, "you are not glad to see me?" He had recovered himself by then, and welcomed her warmly; but some thing had arisen between them her womanly perception was first to recog nize. Already this meeting; to which she had looked forward with Such glad ness, was marred. From all sides, that night, Mr. Travers was met with congratulations' on the beauty and brilliance of his ward, who had received the first hon^ ors of her class. Was the old cyni cism growing on him, that he turned from it all as though weary? For the first time, glancing casually in a mirror, be discovered that the thick, brown hair was streaked with, gray, and the sight hurt him. Why? He neither asked the question nor answered it. There was no doubt now of Pansy's future, he told himself, as, having thrown open his hospitable doors, the world flocked there to welcome this new aspirant to its honors; but, al most to his surprise, he found that he could not remain quietly in the background, a spectator. Women still smiled upon him, still murmured sweet nothings in his ear, or uttered gentle reproaches at his obduracy. Was he never to be lured from his solitude? Some one soon would steal from him the bright new star which now lighted him home. Would he be content to leave it in darkness? Thus they whispered in his ear. Why should he resent it, rather than welcome it? Had he not planned for her a brilliant marriage? Already it was assured to her if she would ac cept lt. Why, then, did he rejoice aa one and another retired, heavy-heart ed, from the lists? He grew to hate the world anew. Now and then would come a quiet evening, when, sitting alone in his li brary, she would steal softly in. as she had done so often in the old, childish day3, and sitting on a stool at his feet, lay her soft, velvet cheek upon his hand. Would she come to him thus, one day, and tell him that at last she had given away her heart? And would he be strong enough to give her his bless ing? Ah, he had learned his own secret now. One evening they went together to a brilliant gathering. A murmur of admiration ran through the room as she entered it, but something in it all wearied her tonight. She refused the many eager claim ants for the dance, and stood watch ing the gay scene, surrounded by a little court, when, looking up, she saw Rush Travers' eyes fixed on her face. With a sudden impulse she moved swiftly to his side. . / "I am tired, Uncle Rush," she said. "The garden is thrown open. Will you take me there with you for a Ht- ' tie while?" He drew the liftlc gloved hand In; his arm and together they passed through t??e French window Into the ,' lantern-lighted space beyond, Nelthei 1 -." >ke, When, its they Were in the shad fc.v?ices reached them, beautiful girl-yes. 'Rush TYnv ? ??price' they call her. There i3 mystery about heh For my pert, )n'? b?li?ve she's any relation, and i?k th? man's iii loVe with h>Ti [ know the old story ?boUt him?" .ut they heard nd niore; Pansy felt s'-strong quiver which ran through as he drew her away. ?"Oh, Uncle Rush," she murmured, "? ?, 30, so' sorry." Storry for what?" he answered) ?i Stkharshiy; "For k??plhg nlj secret goorly that it is a football for the I? For selfishly gloating when men were Unsuccessful in gain ?the treasure I so madly covet for' |$?n? It is true what they say'; -.true; but it shall be so no JP" 'True, Uncle Rush! You mean that you love me?" "Yes, my darling._. But do not let it frighten you. I have not'"forgotten ? that; I am almost an old man, while you are on the threshold of your young life. ' You shall marry some good, noble.man, Pansy, and I shall be happy in your happiness." .' "I -shall never marry," the girl an swered, ' softly, "unless-unless-oh, Uncle Rush! I never guessed my own .secret, but I know it now. Whom could .I love but you? When other men have .wooed me, I have thought of you; and beside.'you they seem so poweriess to win one beat' of my heart. How could they, when already it belonged to you? Was the gift so small that you would not claim it?" But he sealed the sweet, questioning .lip's' with the first lover's kiss which had ever rested there. ?" 'Rus^i Travers' caprice," they called it, darling!" he whispered. "But they Were wri?ng-it was Rush Travers' in* spiration;!"*-Saturday Night. QUAINT AND CURIOUS. A curious criminal law exists In Greece.A man who is there seu tencedljB. death waits two years be fore thMexecution of the sentence. JTrin some form, are of tho great?alja&tiquity. Under Tiglath Pileser III., the Assyrian cavalry was provide??with them and the early Roman^|sed a cloth, hide or skin, which w'as> no doubt, very similar; The largest tree in the state of New* Jersey is a white oak situated three" miles north of Mickelton, Gloucester county. Its dimensions are: Height 95 feei;.'d?ameter of trunk three feel above the' ground, 7 feet 10 inches; spread. of-branches, 118 feet. This ???the settlement of thtf. _ ; iucuca xii diameter aw w?? ?-. over its length. A new hotel which is to be built in New York City will have many inter esting ' electrical features, among which will be a system of electric ser vice elevators, Or movable pantries, fitted with electric heating tables; They will be run through every apart ment thereby, insuring rapid service and hot food to guests taking their meals in their room&; A remarkable contrast to the map in precious stones which lately aston ished Paris is the railway map on tiles put up at York station by the Northwestern company. It is made of white tiles, the lines being marked in black and burfit sienna. It is about, six feet square, and each tile is eight inches square. The company intends to havo similar maps at all important stations on its own system. A curious instance of the way in which two or three long lives can bridge over the chasm of several cen turies is given by Muller himself in his lately published autobiography. He there relates that he met at Ox ford the centenarian scholar, Dr. Routh of. Magdalen college, who had known a> lady who had seen Charles I. walking in the "Parks," which de rive-their name from the disposition of the royal artillery during the civil war of; 1640. Three lives thus served to connect two periods separated by some liOO years.. < riptnnn lind Nothing to Say. driver of the wagon was lean ing drowsily to one side and seeming ly oblivious to his surroundings. His clothes were vzry ragged and faded. A Tyorn out straw hat was perched on his head, and in his mouth was a stont-stemmod clay pipe. He was a perfect picture of contentment. Hh: horse was a thoroughly broken-down na?, his ribs sticking out in bold re lief. He laboriously lifted one leg af ter another, while the wistful look in his eyes indicated that half measure of oats was a rare quantity in the sta ble economy of his owner. Two ropes from the top of the wagon held up the shafts. A tire on one of the wheels on the vehicle had already disappeared, an other was going. Holes had been kinocked In the sides and the top had a list to starboard. There was an entire absence of paint. It was a mystery how the ramshackle thing withstood nie jolting over the Lexington avenue pavements. j The motorman on the car behind clanged his gong vigorously, but the ?driver paid no attention, and jogged 'along leisurely on the tracks ahead. Finally he pulled off the tracks, and the motorman gripped his wheel tight ly and leaned over the dashboard to give his views on the subject. When the car was opposite the wagon on its side was revealed a sign on which were daubed in long yellowish white letters the words: "Electric Express." The gripman had nothing to say.-New York Mail and Express. The average price received by all the gas companies in Massachusetts hi $1.10 per 1000; MRS- PANIEL WILLIAMS ' , MAPJOU \UIHS1. '?ICIUSAM "TV "T 0 country has a more splen \ did system of lighthouses [ \ than the United States, and mQ here, where so few profes sions or callings ure barred to woman, the position of light-keeper is open to her; provided, of course, she can stn nd the examination that is necessary be fore she can be placed upon the roll of eligibles for appointment. The posi tion is both congenial and remunera tive, and for a groat many years wom en from time to time have found their way into thc profession, until now there are few States with a coasc lino that do not number at least one among their light-keepers, and frequently a greater number. The accommodations of a lighthouse station are, of course, varied. Some times they are simple, but in the case of the new structures they aro very elaborate. In the ordinary building there aro usually a service-room, liv ing-room, bed-room, oil-room and a store-room. Thc duties of the lighthouse-keeper are many and important The top of thc tower ls usually a tiny room, all glass windows. The lantern is iu tho centre of the room; it is a great prism of glasa In shape like a beehive. The lamp is set into this, and ibo lenses magnify the comparatively small light of thc lamp and make it a groat beacon seen far off over the waters. Should the luminant be a flash-light, there is machinery to be wound up every few hours to cause lt to revolve. At sunset the keeper climbs the steep steps in th?i high tower? lakes down thc curtains that darken it throughout thc day, and sets the lamp inside the lantern. As she makes out tile last dim sail upon the horizon a-,d feels a thrill of isola + -J J.U- _.-1-1 .?. - ?nS. WTJXLI?MS AT ME FOOT OF THE LIGHTHOUSE STAlllS. ls put in the place of the first lighted ene. When storms are raging or fogs pre vailing the keeper stays awake to wind the machinery that keeps the fog signal booming over thc water. Many nleepjess nights are thus spent by the light-keepers in devoted vigil of the aids to navigation. At the gray of dawn the keeper is again climbing the steep iron ladder to the tower-top. Before the red rim of the sun appears the lamp is extinguished, the line, prismatic lenses are covered, and the huge panes of glass that form the walls of the room are curtained. The large lamp is carried down the flights of an almost perpendicular ladder, and when filled, trimmed and cleaned is ready for the sunset hour." Thc work of the keeper is not concluded with this feat; the most perplexing portion of the daily routine is now to be per formed. The light-keeper must give an ac count of his stewardship. A record is kept of every gill, pint, quart aud gal lon of oil that is nightly consumed by the lamps, the fractional parts of inches of wick burned, the lamp-chim neys broken, and the general cousump LIGHTHOUSE DWELLING AND B ERSE LI G tlon of all supplies furnished yearly in large quantities by thc Government The accounts are piled up in pamphlets full of figuring, and the minutest ac curacy is absolutely necessary. Trust 1 in fi keeper is inoperative. Daily, monthly, quarterly and annual reports are rendered to the inspector, and each "eport is a detective upon the other, every light is a watch-tower, and every visible light-station reports the others on tile log-book or daily journal. The pathetic story of Lena, the six year-old keeper of a port light on the Mississippi River, brings tears to many eyes. The blind grandfather pleaded With the child not to venture to the islaurl post that night, lu vain. Lena had promised the inspector never to forget that light, and, although a r MRS. KOBV^LL ON LIGHTHOUSE TRAIN, LOU storm swept the river, she hastened to reach the post, only to have her frail life dashed out by the wa vos '. :- \ '..fi ?? ? lb-.- l;.-e? . ? i fifield ?*W? ' '<?T "... ?**R* I er, clim oed ute height, nea a rope to the bell, and rang it until the fog cleared away. The Lighthouse Board warmly commended Mrs. Fowler's courage in a letter that Is precious to her. These arc but a few transcript from official pages. The first woman to act as a llght houRc-keepcr was probably Elizabeth Smith who, ?n 1S30, kept thc light at Old Field Point, Long Island, and had full charge of it for twenty-five years. Nancy Rose was appointed in Novem ber, 1857, tis a lighthouse-keeper to succeed her husband at Stony Point, on the Hudson River. She is the first woman keeper whose appointment is on official record. In her seventy seventh year, Mri, Rose still climbs the ladder to the light with no uncer tain step, faithfully keeping her vigil under stormy and starry skies. Her bright eyes are unimpaired in vision. Thu lighthouse stands on the hilltop. Thc keeper's cott:igc is surrounded by a well-kept garden that during the summer-time is full of blooming dah lias. Mrs. Rose maintains the family tradition id being a light-keeper, as they have held the post ever since the tower was built. She has raised sev en children, nnd kept the position through various political changes be cause, us she says, "I have done my duty." The first women to be appointed lighthouse-keepers on the Pacific coast are widows, Mrs. Emily A. Fish at Point Pinos, and Mrs. Julia F. Will iams, of Humboldt, California. Point Pinos light is situated ou a point of laud jutting into the sen. Mrs. Fish obtained permission to add to the ac commodations, and built a comforta ble residence with modern improve ments for herself. Mrs. Fish keeps th? light with great care, allowing no one to relieve her of the official duties of the station. As a result she received, in March, 1901, a letter of special commendation for the neatness, excellence and faithfulness of her service, a document that is filed with the official records of the Board. Mrs. M. D. R. Norvell is one of the well-known heroines of the lighthouse service. She was born in Washington, D. C.. and her great-grandfather de signed the Washington monument. ELL FOG-SIGNAL, LITTLE TRAY IIT-STATION. The romantic, brilliant and versatile girl married a young man of fortune, who suffered liuauclal reverses, and was appointed keeper of the light at the Head of the Pasees, Por: Ende, KEEPERS) il_U l ww- NANCY no? - STONY reiNT, Ntw Yoiy\ ? Louisiana. At his death Mrs. Norrell succeeded him as keeper of the light in 1891, and she brought up her two children in the sunshine and storm of a sea-life. Another of these heroines Is Mrs. Martha A. Keeler, who has spent twenty-four years in various light houses along the North Carolina coast Nine years of this time she was fourteen miles from a postoffice and ten miles from land, but she had her birds and flowers and books, and be tween them and the performance of her household duties the time passed TOWER, LAKE PONTCHA7. ISIANA. pleasantly ' enough. Mrs. Josephine Freeman has kept the light on Blakls +nn T V >r where the brnad &i:s. .-. ? "wy;* '?.?v\v.-ir;vr.v .ai .... . . ?.' '-i:" y-?:.-? band, who was tue Keeper o? a iighV upon an island. In 1S72 he was" drowned while rescuing a boatin?j3ar ty. The appointment was given to wcy-^ and I continued in my first charge for fifteen years. I was tlien transferred to the mainland, and I have been here for more than sixteen years. I love my work-It has its fascinations for me; and I love the water, although it has been to my beloved ones n cruel friend. I have had many stirring ex periences in all these years of 1 ght keeping. Many are the storms I have seen, watching thc wild waves beat ing upon thc shore. Every evening as I climb my tower-steps I know that there are hundreds of other light keepers doing the same thing. I have many sleepless nights when storms are raging. My station is built pf brick and stone, and is very comforta ble and warm to live in. We light keepers feel a great sympathy with our sailors, for we know their eyes are watching to catch the welcome glim mer of the lights as they sail on the stormy deep. The light-keepers aro much exposed to danger, and many lives are lost in going to and from the mainland to thc lighthouses that are built upon rocks and shoals. Our lives are given to cur work, and we feel the great responsibility resting upon us. We are faithful to the duties as signed us, and we keep our laings trimmed and burning, a guide to mar iners on the way to safe harbors of refuge."-Woman's Home Companion. John Barleycorn Flees Before the Ad? vance of the Persuasive Vegetable. ence, addressing the Internationa' Vegetarian- Congress in London, testi fy that a vegetarian diet is a certain cure for the liquor habit" Machine Threads Needles. ? little machine which threads 1000 needles a minute ls in Minneapolis. The purpose of the machine, which was made in Switzerland, is to thread needles that are placed afterward in an embroidery loom for making tee Swiss or Hamburg lace. The device is almost entirely automatic. It takes the needle from a hopper, carries il? along, and threads, ties the knot, cuts the thread off a uniform length, then carries thc needle across an open space and sticks it in a rack. The work of threading these needles was formerly done by hand, and lae ad vance from what may be doue bj hand to 1000 a minute by machinery is an index of the progress of the SvlM wpubllc.