Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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^ ISSUED SEMI-WSEKL^^ l. m. qrist'S sons. Publisher.. [ % Jfamilg Beurspaper: |for the promotion of the political, jSociat. Agricultural and (Commercial Interests of the $eopt<. {TKI5?m5"SJiA. nv* A>";" established 1855. Y"Q RJKVlLLE, S. C.. FRIDAY, AUGTf8T~21, 1908. N"Q. 07. ' I *? -? T^v- - a * lrlll_ 4 -I 'H' "! i i I I i ' ! - J t f* A QTJ t yA5l ___ t By ETTA |*4*4'4*<l*<f*4a<f*ai**i>4*4><) ^ CHAPTER. XXV. Danger. "Will I do?" It was Mlgnon who asked the question in an arch, laughing tone. She stood before Mrs. ElliI cott; arrayed for her first great revel ? the srovemor's ball. Her Worth dress was of white and silver. Silver slippers Incased her tiny feet. Her gloves reached to her pearly shoulders. In her corsage dropped a knot of Boule de Nelge roses. Spotless and glistening from head to heel with no color about her save her yellow hair and Infantile bloom Mlgnon looked more like some girl "Standing with reluctant feet Where the brook and river meet," than a woman who had already passed through strange experiences. "Do?" echoed Mrs. Elllcott. * Why seek to wring compliments from an old woman, my dear? Before the night Is done your head will be quite turned with them." Fifine wrapped a long cloak of silver-gray cashmere around her young f mistress and a moment later Mlgnon (was in' the carriage whirling away to the governor's ball. A dream of splendor, a vast, bewildering scene of enchantment. It seemed to Mlgnon that she had stepped suddenly into Fairyland or some other equally wonderful place. She looked around on the countless wax lights, the profusion of magnificent flowers that made the ballroom appear like one great conservatory, the throng of notables, the flashing Jewels, the superb dresses, and her guilty heart failed her. What right had she in that marvelous place?that grand company? For a * moment she faltered, trembled. Then Paget Fassel came hurrying to meet her, and drew her gloved hand through his arm. His gray eyes were as bright as sword blades. ^ "I have been waiting for you," he said. "What do you think of It, Mignon?" "It Is glorious!" she answered, in an awed whisper. "It Is what I have longed and prayed for all my life." "A singular subject for devotion," he said, teastngly. "By and by. little enthusiast. you will penetrate below the ? surface of things, and the glamour will dissolve like mist in the sun." "No?no! To be here tonight?to Y have part in this splendor, is worth all I peril ? all punishment!?I mean," P checking herself in confusion, "that I * seem never to have lived till this moment" He smiled at her childish ardor, and directly they were gliding away to the measure of a waltz. In her gown of white and silver, with her downy shoulders and yellow hair gleaming, her heart beating madly, her head giddy with the music, the lights and the * . ?~ oho want nn a nH nn with pri lUiiiro, oiiv ?vi.v v.. ?... v. him. forgetting everything in the joy of the moment. Edith Fassel. in pearls and cream brocade, glided past with the banker |r Burchard, whom, as all the world knew, she had more than once rejected. Mignon turned to look after the patrician beauty. "She is as grand as a goddess!" she murmured. "I would like to see her in a Cleopatra gown, with a Roman lamp in her hand." "Don't let Queenie overawe you," said Fassel, lightly. "Those high airs ^ of hers really signify nothing." I "I want her to love me!" answered ^ Mignon, wistfully. "She would be less than human if W she failed to do that. To refrain from loving you. Mignon, is the supreme difL Acuity." Her foolish heart thrilled, but before she could answer a Harvard law student whisked her from Fassel, with the words. "This is our dance, Miss Hillyer." and she was brought quickly back to her senses. Her new partner, a callow youth with a weak mustache and a brazen stare, made no attempt to conceal his admiration for the beautiful debutante. "How the other buds glare at you!" he said, cheerfully. "You are far and away handsomer than any of them, you know. There's one sitting by her chaperon in the corner?looks as though she v would rend you limb from limb. Hear that waltz?Waldteufel's! Floats you along as naturally as a south wind blows a rose. By the way," with a sudden suspicion in his tone. "Fassel is a particular friend of yours, eh?" "Yes." replied Mignon. "Queer fellow! Way up in the discoveries. Did he ever tell you how he * - T * ~ oVMnrcQnthamiimQ wenl lo japan 11/ num ?no, 'twas to India after orchids. Somewhere up the Himalyas, or along ?~ 4 the Brahmapootra, he found an odd specimen?it's here tonight," glancing k down the ballroom, where mirrors, [ doorways, chandeliers and mantels L were fringed and banked in costly ? bloom. "I'll show it to you. He also caught a jungle fever, and barely escaped with his life. Why do girls always admire men of that stamp?" in a decidedly aggrieved tone. "Because they are as rare as the Brahmopootra orchid." replied Mignon, with a dreamy smile. Dance succeeded dance. The mu3lc throbbed and swelled. Mrs. Ellicott's heiress soon found herself the sensation of the night. Soft flatteries pursued her at every turn; she was surrounded by a crowd of admirers and loaded with favors. Even the less fortunate buds?the girls left unsought in ^ corners?acknowledged her exquisite loveliness and charm, and sighed to themselves: "She is sure to be the new beauty of the year." The hour was growing1 late. Koses began to droop. tol!ets were losing their pristine freshness. Weary with much dancing Mignon had taken refuge in a recess, cut off ^ from the ballroom by a silken curtain and was waiting there for her devoted follower, the law student, to fetch her an Ice. On the other side of the portiere the crowd moved to and fro. Presently she heard a woman's voice: * "How fashionably late you are. doctor! Men like you are rarely seen at balls." BIB3L1 | ?^ W. PIERCE. 4 f* s'^* "Madam, can you tell me to whom this fan belongs?" replied the party addressed, and his deep, masculine tones sent a vague alarm through Mignon. "I have just rescued it from the feet of the 'trampling multitude.'" "Why, that is Miss Fassel's property ?painted by Laneret, too, and very precious." "Permit me to return it," and the male voice seemed to grow cold and formal. A moment later the silk curtain was thrust back, and Edith Fassel stood before Mignon. In one hand she held a painted fan. Evidently she had thought the recess unoccupied, for at sight of the other girl she recoiled. "You are welcome to share my retreat," said Mignon, laughing. "How white you look and cool?how unlike any other girl in the room! Do you never grow red and tired and disordered, like ordinary women?" Miss Fassel smiled. "Tired? Yes. I am blase and old. My own debut occurred so long ago that I do not care to recall it. Few illusions are left me in Vanity Fair? " 'The days darken around me, And the years.' But you are fresh and young, Mignon, and?imprudent, as you show by standing with your bare shoulders in this draught." And she quietly closed an open window beside the younger girl. As though touched by the act, Mignon leaned, and pressed her lips to the full white curve- of Miss Fassel's arm. "Since I first came to Mrs. Ellicott," she said, "you have been very kind to I lie, auu X nave aunuicu JVU mviv v**u?* I can tell?perhaps because I find you my opposite In everything1?cultivated, where I am crude; high-bred, where I am commonplace. I think," fixing her large eyes solemnly on the other, "If I were in great trouble I would turn to you for help sooner than to any person In the world. I am sure you would not forbid me?" "Indeed, no. But the contingency seems very far away, does it not?" replied Edith Fassel, gently. "You are not likely to be in great trouble, Mignon, while Mrs. Elicott and your other friends are near to guard you." "One cannot tell!" sighed Mignon, with a sudden sadness on her face, and, forgetful of the law student and the errand upon which she had sent him, she slipped out of the recess and was lost at once In the crowd. At the foot of the staircase, silkdraped, flower-wreathed, she came face to face with Paget Fassel. "I have been looking everywhere for " ho ooM niilotlv and rirsw her Into a little reception room, which chanced to be entirely deserted. She glanced once in his face, and grew very pale. "I must go back to Mrs. Ellicott," she faltered; "it is not nice for a bud to run away from her chaperon." "Mrs. Ellicott will not mind if you are in my care.. Darling, little darling." a great tenderness breaking into his tone, "give me a chance to speak! You must have guessed how it is with me. Will it detract from your happiness tonight to know that I love you madly?exclusively?more than life itself?more than anything earthly?" It had come at last?the crisis which she feared, expected, hoped for! Till this hour the heart of the girl had slant All thf? nrovious emotions of her life semed now like breath on the face of a mirror. She had found her master. For the first time she lived? amazed, shuddering-, enraptured. She lived: and memory and conscience failed and went down beneath the flood tide of passion which Paget Fassel had awakened in her shallow, selfish nature. "Mignon," he said, "remember the morning you came to me on my lonely island. I loved you at sight?I who had before defied the power of love. I cannot longer live without you?oh, my darling, can you live without me?" He opened his arms. For a moment she stood terrified; then, reckless alike of past and future, she cast herself into Fassei's embrace. Lips to lips, heart to heart, they stood. Far off the music called, the hum of the crowd echoed. Dying roses poured sweets around them, the colored lamps snone softly. "You are mine, Mignon," he whispered, "to have and to keep forever." "Yes." she shuddered, "whatever comes. I am yours." By and by they both remembered Mrs. Ellicott. "Go find her?tell her everything," faltered Mignon, "and leave me here to think." He went obediently. It was the maddest, proudest moment of the girl's life. Certainly her principles were all astray, for she stood in that little room, with her hand pressed to her heart and a great rapture in her face, and murmured: "How happy I am!?how happy I am!" At the same moment the door opened, and a man stepped into the place. "Pardon"?he began at sight of the girl, then he started back in amazement. The fool's paradise which Mignon had made for herself crashed suddenly about her ears. In the very moment of her triumph, with its light in her eyes, its flush on her cheek, its ecstasy in her heart, she turned, and found herself fact to face with Nigel Hume. CHAPTER XXVI. The Interview. Neither time nor changed conditions could disguise her for an instant. JV'se uuii: lie fAUIttllliru, III jnufound astonishment. Deny him to his face? Something about the man convinced her that such a course would be useless. She determined to throw herself upon his mercy. "Oh. hush! hush!" she implored, hei face as white as her Worth gown; "you will kill me, Mr. Hume, If you call me by that dreadful name?here." His .lightning glance flashed over her glistening little figure. "What Is the matter with the name?" he said; "and why may I not speak It here? Good Heaven! Rose, let me remind you of the circumstances under which I last saw you." "I know?I know! I was drifting off to sea in an oarless boat, and you were struggling for life in deep water." ingr. His lean, tawny face grew very grave. "You deny your own name?your own past life. Where Is Bess?" "I do not know." "Where is Andy Gaff?" "I do not know." "Then you have ceased all communication with the people at Cape Desolation?" "Yes. I am no longer of them, I tell you. You saw, with your own eyes, Mr. Hume, how unhappy I was there. Why should you wish me to remember the place, or anything in it?" With a faint, sobbing cry, she fell on her knees, and clasped him suddenly in two beautiful arms. "You alone know of my past," she said. "Remain silent, and all will be well?speak, and I am lost. Can you, a strong man, set yourself to destroy a feeble girl? I ask only that you keep out of my way, and leave me unnoticed. It is not difficult for you to do that. What right have you to meddle in my affairs??to interfere with matters which in no way concern you? You "Perhaps you are not aware that I ' was actually accused of your murder, and held in durance for the same? But for your cousin Bess, I might have been violently dealt with by my accusers." She seized his arm in sudden panic. "Oh!?oh! Don't mention Bess. We must not talk here?somebody will come searching for me, and surprise us. This way!" She ran toward a bow window, and darted behind its sheltering drapery. Hump followed. "I never dreamed," she gasped, "of seeing you again?I had almost forgotten your existence." "That is flattering!" he answered, with a half-suppressed smile. "We parted?in the sea. We meet?at the governor's ball. Pardon me?the meeting seems stranger than the parting." "You are dying to ask me how I came here," she faltered, "and in a dress like this. I have found friends?rich, powerful friends. You saw the letter which I wrote to Bess?" "Yes." "I was picked up in the boat, and brought to this city. A rich lady adopted me, and sent me to school. I live with her, and my name is Hlllyer ?not Rose?no!" shuddering, "but Mignon?it pleases those who now love me most to call me that. You must not ask anything more. I beg you as a gentleman, to forget that you and I ever saw each other until this moment." He was not slow to grasp her mean and assumed the role or a free woman." "And if I have?" she answere 1. with an uneasy play of color, in her pale face, "the deceit is an innocent one, for it concerns only myself." "Rose." he said, with pateral gravity, "let us reason together. You have the beauty of a Circe; cannot you see that you invite great peril by tne course you are pursuing? God knows I pity you: but"? "Oh, if you pity me," she cried, snatching the words from his lips, ' keep my secret, Nigel Hume!?for the love of God, keep my secret!" She was madly importunate. ms whole nature revolted against hurting anything so lovely, so unfortunate. In the ballroom the music rose and fell, the dancers still capered over the waxed floors. In that curtained window Hume stood with the girl in silver white, gazing down upon her, sorely perplexed. "Now listen to me," he said, at last: "I can promise but one thing?to treat you as kindly as though you were my own sister. I am not the person to follow you about and make unpleasant disclosures?put that thought out of your mind at once. I shall not harm you, but I must keep you from doing harm to others. You are wrong?all j wrong! No honest man or woman can approve of you for a moment. My lips J are sealed on the subject of our former acquaintance, and the existence of Andy Gaff, till such a time as you may, by some act of your own, compel me to open them." With this promise, such as it was, she saw plainly that she must be content. The main thing now was to coni ceal from him her treachery toward TJ/von UllltW linijvi. "Your friend. Mr. Harold?I hope he is not here?" she faltered. ; "Jack has gone west?you have i nothing to fear from him. Let me tell you briefly what happened to me, Rose, after your disappearance in the fog." He did so. She listened. But with no appearance of interest, i "These things occurred a year and CliailUWl Ulice IU see me 111 aiiumci luvw ?under different circumstances. Why need you remember it now? Rose Gaff perished months ago in that open boat. With Mignon Hillyer you have nothing to do. Oh, give me your word. Mr. Hume?your word! You are upright and honorable, and will keep it sacred. Promise to shut your lips on my poor litle setcret?promise never to betray our former acquaintance to anyone!" In spite of her theatrical attitude his old pity for her revived instantly. Genuine anguish thrilled her voice? whitened her young face. She was in some false position, playing some double game, and, alas! struggling still against the chains which bound her. Could he consent to aid her?lend himself to her deceit? No; but her beauty and her despair touched him deeply. "Rose," he said, lifting her, pale and trembling, from the floor, "I wish to God that I had not met you tonight! It was an unlucky chance which brought me to this ball. Mind you, I have not danced before since the evening at the fishhouse. Stop crying?you drive me wild! This is a bad business. I do not like it. With what person, or persons, have you found a home?" "With a woman?kind, rich, generous. I love her very dearly, and she loves me." "And what story have you told her about yourself?" "I decline to answer," she replied, pale, but defiant." "My poor child, it is all plain to me. You have concealed your marriage, a half ago," he said. "I left the cape on the very night of my release from the flshhouse, and have never heard from the place since. That girl Bess," I meditatively, "was a noble creature! You must have been mad to shift your burdens to her shoulders, and then abandon her, as you did." "Mad with despair?with the sickening hopelessness of my life! An opportunity was offered me. I seized It II am not sorry!" with a feverish recklessness in her tone. "Well, settle that with your own conscience. But I have a word of adI vice for you?find out If Andy Gafl 1 still lives!" "I feel?I know that he Is dead!" she shuddered. "What may not have happened at Hillyer's Cove In eighteen long months. God has given me my release before this time?I will not think otherwise!" "My poor child, make the proper inquiries, and you will probably find that Andy Is very much alive. He was physically strong:, and Bess, without doubt, has cared for him well. It will hardly do for you," severely, "to act as though the desires of your heart had really been granted you." He was dismayed to see her quail and grow white. "He is?he must be dead!" she repeated, wringing her hands. "He Is his woes and my own began. Do not intimate anything different. I cannot bear it!" A dark suspicion flashed across Hume's mind. , "Who Is the man." he said, sternly, "that has made you wish for Andy Gaff's death?" She broke from him quickly. "I hear footsteps. We shall be discovered. I cannot stay another moment here," she whispered, and slipped out of the embrasure, and vanished Instantly. Follow her he would not, even at a distance. She should be placed under nn parilnnncp Fnr a 1r?nc time after her departure he stood In the window, thinking his own thoughts. Why had he come to this wretched ball? Simply to catch one more glimpse of Edith Fassel. Well, his rencontre with Andy Gaff's wife was likely to disturb him not a little. Determined to give her every possible chance to escape him, he purposely avoided the supper tables, and spent the rest of the night In a little card room, where a few elderly people were playing whist. There he trumped his partner's tricks, and behaved generally like a man all astray. At last he prepared to leave the revel. As he was crossing the hall he looked up, and saw two ladles descending the staircase?an old woman in black fox fur, and a young girl In a long cashmere cloak. "My dear Mignon, you will be quite worn out tomorrow," the elder party was saying, in a strangely familiar voice. "I ought to have carried you away an hour ago." "I am not fatigued In the least, dear Mrs. Ellicott," the girl protested. "I could easily dance till daybreak." At the foot of the stair Paget Fa^sel stood waiting for the two. A passionate happiness burned In his gray eyes; his air was that of a tamed and conquered creature. Just as she reached Fassel Mrs. Ellicott chanced to espy her rejected and disgraced nephew. It was their first encounter since the rupture of the previous year. She beckoned him forward. "How do you do?" she said calmly. "Let me present you to Miss Hillyer? my heiress" making a superb gesture toward Mignon. "I hear that you are getting on in the world, nephew. That does not displease me, for I bear you no ill will." "Thank you, my dear aunt," replied Hume, dryly. The litle grotup looked hard at each other for a moment. Mignon's breath semed suspended on her lips. She made a slight Inclination of the head toward Hume, then gave her hand to Paget Fassel, and hurried to the carriage. Fassel entered the vehicle with the two ladies, and It rolled away into the night. Like a statue Hume stood gazing after It. "Miss Hillyer!" he muttered. "Nothing more likely than that she should resume her maiden name. But heiress to the Elllcott fortune, and successor to my* own unlucky self?gracious Heaven!" To he Continued. A GHOST STORY. The Spectral Horseman That Visits Wycollar Hall. This ghost story is contributed by a correspondent of an English magazine: "Wycollar Hall, near Colne. was long the seat of the Cunliffes of Blllington. They were noted persons in their time, but evil days came, and their ancestral estates passed out of their hands. In the days of the commonwealth their loyalty cost them dear, and ultimately they retired to Wycollar with a remnant only of their once extensive property. About 1819 the last of the family passed away, and the hall Is now a mass of ruins. Little but the antique fireplace remains entire, and even the room alluded to in the following legend cannot now be identified. Tradition says that once every UAwoAmnn TXTtrAnl _ ytrui u, rsptrvici iiuiacmaii iidiw .t lar Hall. He is attired in the costume of the early Stuart period, and the trappings of his horse are of a most uncouth description. "On the evening of his visit the weather is always wild and tempestuous. There is no moon to light the lonely roads, and the residents of the district do not venture out of their cottages. When the wind howls loudest the horseman can be heard dashing up the road at full speed, and, after crossing the narrow bridge, he suddenly stops at the door of the hall. The rider then dismounts and makes his way up the broad oaken stairs into one of the rooms of the house. Dreadful screams, as from a woman, V>Aarrl U'VlloVl GDAn OllhQiHP into groans. The horseman then makes his appearance at the door, at once mounts his steed and gallops off. "His body can be seen through by those who may chance to be present; his horse appears to be wild with rage, and Its nostrils stream with fire. The tradition is that one of the Cunliffes murdered his wife in that room and that the specter horseman is the ghost of the murderer, who is doomed to pay an annual visit to the home of his victim. 3he is said to have predicted the extinction of the family, which, according to the story, has been ha it.. I II If I clllj 1 UI1IIICU. ; JRisfcttuicoua Reading. ANSEL AND BLEASE. News and Courier Urges Charleston to Act Wisely. waw* ffAtrnmnr r\f CmitH Pnrn. , 1 UC liCAk 5UVCI IIVI V/i. MUUkli VM. w Una will be Martin F. Ansel or Cole L. Blease. The choice of the white people of the state will be made at the Democratic primary election ten days hence. There will be no appeal from the decision of the primary. , We have not the least doubt that Ansel will be nominated. He Is a better man in all respect3 than his competitor?In character, in purpose, In achievement. He Is not a demagogue. He does not appeal to the prejudices of the ignorant or to the cupidity of the corrupt. He has had no relations, professional or political, with the criminal forces of society. He has not trimmed his course to catch the support ot. the unworthy. He has not appealer to the passions of the multitude. He has not had to defend his personal character because it has never been impugned. The people know that they can depend upon him because they have tried him; tried him In the legislature, tried him In the office of solicitor, tried him as governor, and h# has stood every test. ' Jie will be nominated for another term as governor. He will recelvd 70,000 votes at the primary election; he ought to be nominated without opposition. He will beat his opponent by 30,000 majority. It is inconceivable that the Democratic voters of the state should prefer Blease to Ansel. There is some opposition to Ansel in Charleston, based upon his course in de&lingr with the illicit sale of whisky in this town, and for the purpose of emphasizing, their disapproval of the extraordinary, and, in our opinion, utterly unjustifiable, measures resorted to by him in dealing with an I fivfronr/Hnaw i H tin t hPTP hflfl baen considerable talk here of voting for Blease. Why? What are those who are opposed to Ansel to gain by the election of Blease? Is he to make illicit traffic in whisky easier here that it has been under the adminlstration of Ansel? Will he cause the supreme court to reconsider its action in the injunction cases? What has he ever done for Charleston or its people or their interests that would Justify them in voting for him at the primary election? What is he that he should command the support and confidence of the Democratic voters of this town? What could this community gain by his election? If we should give him a large vote in Charleston, what will the people In the rest of South Carolina who will vote against him in overwhelming numbers think of us and of our way of "playing politics?" Is Blease worth the price we would have to pay for him in the loss of our own self-respect, in the confidence of our neighbors, in tfie business, industrial, commercial and political relations we would establish between Charleston and the resi 01 SOUin Lurumia; Some of us have been greatly outraged by Ansel's dealing with the .whisky situation In Charleston; are we going to remedy the situation by giving our support to one of the representatives and chief exponents of the state dispensary, the prime source of many of our woes, and the most corrupt political machine that has ever disgraced an independent state? With what grace can we go to the pefople of the state hereafter and say that we want their friendship and support in political affairs if in this trial of bur good faith we shall vote for Blease to get even with Ansel? We submit to the thoughtful Democratic voter of this town that there is far more in the present contest for the Democratic nomination for governor than the question of how to ~1'~ mist!* colo nf whlqkv In C!har Illtl>IVO IHC IlllV.lt OUIV Vb ff aaawaa^ ... -V_____ leston easy. Charleston will not vote for Blease, but if In the exercise of unreasonable prejudice and passion any considerable number of our people should vote for him, they will do so to the lasting Injury of the community and to their own hurt.?News and Coilrier. THE SUN UNSEEN. All We See Are Its Concentric Shells. The great ball of fire which we call the sun is not really the sun. No one has ever seen the s n. A series of concentric shells envelop a nucleus of which we know absolutely nothing except that it must be almost infinitely hotter than the fiercest furnace, and that It must amount to more than nine-tenths of the solar mass. That I nucleus is the real sun, forever hidden from us. The outermost of the enveloping shells is about five thousand miles thick, and is called the "chromosphere." It Is a gaseous flood, tinted with the scarlet glare of hydrogen, and so furiously active that it spurts up great tongues of glowing gas ("proninences") to a height of thousands of miles. Time was when this agitated sea of crimson fire could be seen to advantage only during an eclipse; now special instruments are used which enable astronomers to study it in the full glare of the sun. Beyond the chro mosphere, far beyond the prominences even, lies the nebulous pallid "corona," visible only during the vanishing moments of a total eclipse, aggregating not more than seven days in a century. No one has ever satlsfac. torily explained how the highly atten, uated matter composing both the prominences and the corona is supported without falling back into the sun under the pull of solar gravitation. Now that Arrhenius has cosmically applied the effects of light-pressure a solution is presented. How difficult it is to account for such delicate streamers as the "prominences" on the sun is better comprehended when we fully understand how relentlessly powerful is the grip of solar gravitation. If the sun were a habitable globe and you could transport yourself to Its surfac^ you would . find yourself pulled down so forcibly by gravitation that you would weigh , two tons, assuming that you are an I ordinary human being. Your cloth lng alone would weigh more than one hundred pounds. Baseball could be played in a solar drawing-room, for i there would be some difficulty in throwing a ball more than thirty feet. Tennis would be degraded to a form of outdoor ping-pong. From these considerations It Is plain that gravitation on the sun would tend to prevent the formation of any lambent streamers and pull down to Its surface masses of any size.?Harper's Magazine. CANNED THUNDER. Dynamite In the Making, as Seen at ?? a Great Plant So thoroughly deceptive is dynamite in the making that you are apt to be disappointed on viewing the surface of things. You could more readily fancy thunderbolts leaping and crashing from tender blue skies than that the most fearful forces in cr^ktlon are hidden under such a peaceful exterior. Nitroglycerine, a cupful of which would distribute you over square miles of landscape, is dilIgfhtly mixing around you in hundreds and thousands of gallons. It is making Itself in big iron retorts, escaping down leaden guters and merrily tumbling in minute Niagaras into immense vats, where the deliquescent yellow peril pursues its Journey powderward. Out of one receptacle it .fares furiously through special l^ktl coils, driven only by cooling blasts of air, and is drawn off like draught ale and piped onto the next perfecting stage. Gaze with the nitroglycerine expert into one of those bi? caldrons. The interior is brightly illuminated by electricity, the only illuminating agency permitted in or about the danger houses. ^\t the bottom is a molten, sullen fluid. Glanciner cautiously at the thermometer, the guide tells .you that the writhing mass is nitroglycerine. It is being fused with nitric and sulphuric acids, and you are casually informed, as the expert sends a cooling stream through the pipes, that it Is very necessary to keep the temperature below eighty degrees. Once above the eighty-degree dead line, so to say, the treacherous liquid might Instantly voice itself in such a deafening explosion as those in close proximity may never hear but once. Let the composition be quiescent for but a few seconds, and its stillness suddenly becomes that of death, in consequence of which extreme vigilance is practised in keeping 11. constantly agitated as well as properly temperatured. Around you are other houses, at uniform distances apart, and connected by a series of narrow-gauge tracks, wherein workmen are railroading nitroglycerine from here and pulp cotton from there, to be compounded into dynamite and blasting gelatine. Greatest care is taken in rolling the product from house to house. As soon as loaded cart is ready to pass out of ?the nitroglycerine house, for instance, a semaphore signals from an adjoining station, to which the consignment is carefully hurried. Around you are long store-houses packed with pulp in tons of innocent whiteness. presently this pulp will assume a tan color under the nitrating process, and then, suddenly becoming carbonite, red cross, hercules, judson, and giant powder, forclte, or what you order, it develops the quasi virtues of dynamite?dynamite or blasting gelatine in which more natural forces are condensed to the cubic Inch than exist anywhere else in creation. Death, curbed and sleeping, encircles you in gallons and tons. Annihilation threatens at every turn, in the form of potential pulverizing forces. But the man and the mercury are there also, alert, responsive, reliable.?Leslie's Weekly. STORY OF NINE CHEESES. An Old-Time New England Tale With a Moral. Ancedotes In which the mean and grasping man is outwitted or held up to ridicule are popular everywhere and always. Few ancient towns are without their historic or traditional Instances of stinginess punished or sharp practice defeated. In one village of New England says the Youth's Companion there is still current such a tale concerning an unpopular parson of more than a century ago. Although a learned man of impressive manners, this clergyman was noted for undue reluctance to expena and readiness to acquire. He had a habit of pleading poverty and hinting for gifts. The parish, although with some murmuring, had responded with fuel for his kitchen, hay for his horse. Thanksgiving turkeys for his table and a "subscription cloak" of black satin for his wife when her wedding manteau became shabby. The murmurs increased when it was found that the parson turned an honest but overshrewd penny by selling, instead of using, many of these donations. But they were not loud enough to disturb his stately calm, and he went his way without condescending to notice them. At last, however, fortune Dlayed him trick for trick. One pleasant winter day he made a round of calls, and at each house, when just about to leave, he casually asked his hostess if she could let him have a little piece of cheese, as his wife happened to have none in the house, and unexpected company had arrived. In each case the good housewife, instead of a little piece, generously presented him with a whole cheese, which he graciously accepted. As he turned from the doorstone at the close of the last visit, while the mother of the family and her brood of nine children stood politely gathered to watch him drive away, he carelessly pulled the wrong rein? the sleigh tipped sharply on a drift, and out from under the ministerial laprobe rolled nine large cheeses, which spun friskly away in all directions over the icy crust. His hostess understood the situation at a glance. "Don't disturb yourself pray, sir," she said politely, as he made a motion to descend. "It is quite unnecessary. The children will gather them up and none be overburdened, nor will there be any quarreling for the privilege. See, It Is just a cheese to a child," So It was; and the embarrassed parson, unable to escape, was obliged to receive back his cheeses, with due thanks to each giggling volunteer, as they came up in gleeful procession, one by one. Too well he knew that by the next day the whole parish would be laughing at his misadventure, although he could scarcely have guessed that the joke would be recalled a hundred vpars later. WRITE OF LIBERTY. A KinunT Unique Contest Among Prison Inmates Is Decided. A. G. Gates, ex-chaplain of the Kansas State Industrial Reformatory at this place, says a Hutchinson, Kansas, letter, has Just brought to a successful conclusion a very Interesting contest A few months asro he wrote a letter to the various state penal and reformatory Institutions throughout the country offering a series of prizes for the best article written by prisoners on the subject, "What Is True Liberty, Its Value, and How Obtained?" There was a ready response to the Invitation to compete in this contest and the prizes have Just been awarded. One hundred and forty-seven manuscripts from institutions In twelve states were received by Mr. Gates and eleven prizes were awarded?a first prize of $25, a second prize of $10, a third prize of $5 and eight additional prizes of $1 each. No. 15,312, Massachusetts state reformatory, was the winner of the first prize; Convict J. E. R., Alabama state penitentiary, won the second, and No. 3219, Indiana state reformatory, was given the third prlzeThe winners of the first rank In the dollar prizes were: N. B., state Industrial school for girls, Beloit, Kan.; No. 4177 and No. 5018, Indiana state reformatory, the three being: given the same grade of merit Other institutions winning $1 prizes were Ohio penitentiary, North Carolina state prison, Missouri penitentiary. Iowa penitentiary, Iowa reformatory and Allegheny county workhouse, Pennsylvania. In explaining the manner in which the contest was conducted, Mr. Gates said "After the one hundred and fortyseven articles were carefully read by me, and some of them re-read several times, thirty-eight of the best were copied on typewriters that the manuscripts might go into the hands of the Judges in uniform style. And, that there might be no question raised by anyone as to the absolute fairness in the grading of the papers, a complete set of these copies was placed In the hands of each of four judges, who reside in different states or different sections of the same state, with the writer's postofflce address omitted, and his name or number marking the authorship of the article. The Judges were the Rev. J. Kent Rlzer, pastor of the Trinity Lutheran church, Tipton, la.; Miss Kate Smelser, a member of the Alumni association. Earl ham colleg*, Richmond, lad.; Mrs. Cora O. Lewi*, Kinsley, Kas., and the Rev. W. E. Gray, pastor of the First United Presbyterian church, Hutchinson, Kas. "After the work of each of these Judges was completed, the articles receiving the ranking positions as indicated by each Judge's grading were placed in the hands of the fifth Judge, George W. Winans, ex-state superintendent of public Instruction, for final grading. I feel that this gave an absolutely correct ranking of the various efforts of the prisoners and a good idea of their several abilities. I believe that such contests not only help to develop the mental" faculties of the prisoneru, but cheer their spirits as well, indicating, as it does, that there are persons on the outside who are interested In their welfare." GREAT IS QUININE. One of the Moat Valued Drugs Known to Medicine. Speaking of quinine as the chief among all drugs, Dr. Singub H. Gerlach, of Bombay, India, said to a Washington Post reporter that quinine is one of the most valuable of all drugs known to medical science. "No one would venture to travel in India without it," said Doctor Gerlach. "Before its discovery 2,000,000 people died annually in India of malarial fever. The mortality from this cause Is now less than half that number. The poor people?so poor that they looked upon the fever as their fate, and expected no relief?are saved by the agency of quinine. England could not keep her European soldiers In India without it. ' "Livingstone and other travelers in Central Africa could never have made their discoveries without its aid. It is said of the great German explorer, Schwelnfurth, that when helost his entire property by Are, valuable scientific instruments among the rest, he felt the loss of his quinine to be the greatest of all, and often thought with fear of the journey that lay before him, which, however, he persevered in. "The whole world is Indebted to the cinchona tree, from which quinine is made. Who could have foretold that this tree, a native of the mountainous forest of South America, would be of such importance In the advance of civilization and Christianity? "One of the strange things about quinine is that it is not used as a medicine in the practice of the native physicians of Peru, Ecuador or Colombia. The native Indians did not even know of its curative powers until enlightened by the Spaniards about 250 years ago. "As a means of guarding the system from intermittent fever the English naval regulations require that every man should take a portion of the drug when the ship is within a certain distance of the east or west coast of Africa, and that it should be resrularlv taken by those engaged in boat cruising along the coasts or on I the rivers or creeks." GAME 8LAUGHTER IN FAR NORTH Much of It For the More Love of Kill-1 ing?Menace to the Caribou. In all the thousands of miles from Vancouver to the North Sea and from Edmonton to Dawson the country Is dotted with hunters at Intervals of from twenty to 100 miles apart. From this it will be seen that the game has no way of escaping, as there Is no stretch of more than a hundred miles where the crack of the gun Is not heard. With nearly every one It is a case of doing his level best to kill an he possibly can, even though 99 per cent goes to waste and rots on the ground. The Indians are the onlyi men who regard the protection of game as a necessity. I have been in the northwest for| eleven years and travelled from east to west and from north to south and have seen slaughters of large game on several occasions that would make Buffalo Bill's buffalo killing, which Is famous the world over, look like cnua s pi ay. ine uroi ui Ings I witnessed toward the head of the Klondike river In the winter of 1898, when a herd of caribou came upon a hunter's camp and he killed the herd to the last one. It numbered over three hundred. I must say to that man's credit that he let nothing go to waste, as he was within reach of Dawson and disposed of It all. The only thing to be condemned was the killing of the females. Three years later I was up In the same vicinity and found a hunter and his partner camped toward the head of a gulch with very steep slopes and thousands of feet high. These gulches are used In winter by the travelling caribou when they descend to the lower lands In search for feed. It happened one day that a large herd came down this gulch and the hunter saw them as they descended from the high barren hills. Once down In the gulch there was no retreat, as the snow was too deep and the slopes too steep to climb. He had them corralled, advanced within shooting range, and killed the entire bunch Just for the sport of seeing them fall. He had no ^ means of getting them out of there, and practically the whole herd rotted on the ground. On his way to Dawson he killed a moose weighing nearly a ton. By this time the hunting season was closed and he dared not bring the mooee in, and the animal lay and rotted. A year ago last winter I was up the White river. The upper half is on the American side, and I met a hunter who had Just returned from killing a whole herd of caribou. How many hundred there were In the herd no one knows, not even the slayer, as he never went near many of them. His aim was to see how many he could kill, and the consequence was that he did not get a piece of meat which was flt to eat. He followed the herd on snowshoes for three days, shooting all the time until the last one was dead; then only was his bloodthirsty appetite satisfied. When he returned the fourth day the first ones who were nearest his cabin had already begun to taint. Had he killed for only one day he would have had enough for himself.?Dawson correspondence Toronto Globe. SNAKES' EGGS HATCHING. Tip on the Young Reptile's 8nout With Which It Breaks Its Way Out Because of the popular aversion to the serpent family there is a surprising amount of ignorance about even the simplest of( snake habits. It is doubtful if many correct answers could be given to the question whether snakes lay eggs or bear their young alive. As a matter of fact, some species are viviparous and others oviparous. Most of the poisonous snakes, as well as many of our harmless varieties, belong to the former class. The European ring snake is closely allied to our commbn water snake all other members of the genius TropIdonotus are viviparous, and this species alone lays eggs. Furthermore, according to Gadow's "Amplubia and Reptiles," the new laid eggs usually show not the slightest visible sign of an embryo, unless opposition is delayed, when the embryos are more or less developed. rpl,? ???" ?" ? la IA In Tnlv nr A11 an] st X I1C C550 mu (Miu > ? W?..# In a soft bed of loam or decaying vegetation, or In a heap of manure. The older snakes sometimes lay as many as a dozen eggs or more and they usually stick together so that the entire cluster can be picked up at once. Sometimes, however, If the process of laying Is slow, they will be separated. The eggs are about an Inch long and of a whitish yellow color. The shell is thin and flexible like parchment. The young hatch In late summer or autumn. Before hatching they develop a sharp calcareous growth on the tip of the snout known as the egg tooth, with which the shell Is silt open. Unlike hatching chicks, which are suddenly dispossessed by the breaking of their brittle shells, the young snakes may make many incisions in the parchment envelopes and take many peeps at the outside world before venturing forth Into the new environment. Shortly after hatching the egg tooth is lost. At first the young live on insects and worms, but within a few weeks they are strong enough to attack and devour young frogs. Strangely enough, although the adults are strong swimmers, and spend much time In ponds and streams hunting the flsh and frogs on which they subsist, the young: are unable to swim, and they will soon drown If they fall Into the water. The European ring snake, as well as the American water snake, makes an excellent pet; it is perfectly harmless, becomes very tame, and learns to know the difference between friends and strangers. Gadow tells of a pet ring snake that would eat from his hand, crawl up his coat sleeve and coil itself contentedly on his arm.? Scientific American. SOUTH CAROLINA NEWS. ? Mrs. W. T. Anderson of Spartanburg, was so badly stung by bees Saturday, that she died in two hours. A bee hive was turned over by a runaway mule that Mr. and Mrs. Anderson were driving and both were attacked. Mr. Anderson and the mule were badly stung. ? Calvin W. Clarke, a farmer, aged 65, was murdered Thursday morning hi? hrvme in Berkelv county by his son, while the former lay asleep in his bed. The motive of the crime is said to have been robbery, a goodly sum of money the elder Clarke is known to have kept in his house-ifThe son has been arrested. ? Ernest Rowe, 19 years old, accidentally shot his cousin, Miss Jessie Rowe, 18 years old, to death, in Saluda county Friday afternoon and then committed suicide because of the tragedy. Young Rowe was playing with an "unloaded" gun, when It was suddenly discharged, the load taking effect in Miss Rowe's mouth, killing her instantly. ? Columbia State, Friday: Notice has been issued to all of the candidates in Richland county that under the provision of the act of 1905 the spending of money for liquor to influence votes is prohibited and the hiring of hacks to carry voters to the polls will also be considered a violation of this act. So far during the campaign little if any whisky has been used and the crowds have been very orderly. However, there are any nuTviKflp nf "hepiors" who hane around at every meeting and attempt a small loan for the Influence that might be used. At the depot the other morning one of the candidates had at least 20 requests for a quarter to pay fare to Hopkins. As a rule the candidates turn down the requests promptly and but little money has been made out of them so far.