Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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T23E SURGEO 'HE MAKETH THE 1 Mr.ry Murdoch Mason, 3enenth his wrist there stirs A ettong magnetic current Through palm and linger-ti On tiny blade of steel with Up toward the eye the chargi Nimble, moonlit, the archei The iris, lying ladylike in t And the deen pupil, where "Let there be lignt." he saysAnd, solemn as the sign of Performs the miracle. At i The pulsing thought lenps toi Symbolic, like n dove's High The haloed hand dro]Mi dow : John Mow' John Thurlow sat alone in his m office, lot.g after his one solitary clerk ui had taken his departure. There were no inducements for him to do other- pt wise, for the word home had no attraction for him. A modest flat in w: Harlem, and a cross-grained old th housekeeper, were all that word rep- fu resented to John Thurlow. Eight years before, when he was hi but one and twenty, he had taken m over control of a small but prosperous di business owned by his father, in order to , that the latter might retire to a quiet country home in Morristown, N. J. On that same day, too, he had mar- 111 ried a pretty girl of nine', -en, whom he had known from childhood. He m had loved licr then with a depth of m devotion which had overmastered fa every other thought. But he was w quiet and undemonstrative by na- ei ture?while she was full of life and pi sparkling vivacity. All his wants and ai aspirations were realized in the quiet b< sanctity of their newly-made home, m But she?though loving him no less t dearly?was not so easily satisfied, si For life under any circumstances was t to her dull and monotonous without r] \ the gayeties and pleasures to which C( she had grown accustomed. tl Of course, she had her way. Invl- e tations to balls, theatre parties, and o t every other form of amusement were d never declined, and pretty Mrs. Thur- h low seldom spent two consecutive h evenings by licr own fireside. John n accompanied her, and watched her as h sue iimeu nere ana mere among tne h guests, and his heart yearned for the ti quieter pleasures of home and the c rf, presence of the woman he loved. He g m. j. saw how she was admired, even by the men about her, nud gradually? ti very gradually at first?t^iere grew ti up within him the first bitter seeds p f of jealousy and distrust. s At first he expostulated with her a a In a quiet way, but she only pouted fl and sulked like a willful child, until n in very despair he yielded the point, it and she onrc more had her way. But w his jealousy was not so easily b silenced. Day by day it grew, and distorted every word or look which w she bestowed upon others. At last he a] could endure it no longer, and, in a st moment of anger, gave utterance to cj the ?ruel thoughts and suspicions a, which had filled his mind so long and n, made his life so miserable. oI "Look you!" he said, stepping close ^ up to her and regarding her steadily. j,( "You have made my life a misery. w I thought you better than all other women?I find you worse! Go your . own way, then, and I will go mine!" And, turning upo" nis heel, he went " to his room, hastily packed his few personal belongings, and left the J" house for ever. Through all the seven long years which had intervened sinco that un- ^ happy day he had never once heard of ^ his deserted wife. He had not even ^ arranged for her support, and she, ^ smarting under his shameful accusatlons, had been too proud to compel him to fulfill this legal obligation. n' "> As he sat at his desk In that quiet counting-house there seemed to be r. voice within him which rose up in protest against his injustice and cru- . elt>'- si He got up and paced to and fro In the narrow ofllce. It was quite dark ^ by this time, so he took u match from liis pocket and lit the gas. Then he 8 resumed his walk. Everything had . gone wrong with him late. He had speculat- I pretty freely, and loss had u succeed* ios? until he felt almost afraid ti examine his bank-book and ? see how the balance stood at his bankers. He had not felt himself for some ^ few days past. Early the previous t) week, while riding from the ofllce on ^ his bicycle, he had collided with a heavy conveyance, and severely injured his head. The fall had dazed y him for a few moments, but he had sufficiently recovered to proceed to his home, where his injuries were ? dressed. For a few days he remained iuda.~c, as his face was somewhat ^ c^Tptired by the fall. But business r cares had weighed upon him, and he was soon back at the office once I, more. !l But for an occasional numbness In f( the head he now felt little the worse t( Rfor his mishap. And yet he felt nervous and uneasy. A sense of impend- k m * ing calamity seemed to be brooding mk over hts head. His mind persistently returned to the girl whom he had . once loved so dearly, and of whom he had been so unreasonably jealous, i wK I With a frown he went back to his | . ? desk, and, opening his business diary at the almost blank page which was L ? to contain the entries for the following Monday, he read once more the memorandum which had been placed i Hf- against the date: "Rankin, 8on & Co.: Bill, 11154, ' due to-day." ; He sighad heavily as he looked at LlsR*' the words. "I must face the music," he said, bitterly, "if Ran kins' refuse to grant - - ,T5^* r.'j i_ 1 .1 ? ? N'S HAND. JLTND TO SEE." in The Century, a sun-god's thought, swiftly Hows p, and power bestows promise fraught, ed blade is brought 1 eornea shows. epose, the soul is caug'it. -"Let there he light," cross, the bund that command varil the blind man's night. t to its nest, n and is at tcit. 1 s Affliction. || c a renewal?well, I suppose it's all ( i with Thurlow & Co." He took a sheet of paper and preired to write a letter. Dipping his pen into the ink he as about to begin when he noticed at the light did not seem 0 be lly turned on. He rose and went over to It, but to s surprise he found he had been istaken. Annoyed at being thus sturbed to no purpose, he returned his seat, and again took up his pen. "What poor gas," he muttered. Then he began his letter. Very de- , jerately he wrote the words: "Gentlemen?I am compelled, very uch to my regret, to Inform you of y inability to meet your bill, which ,11s due on Monday next. It you ould bo so good as to grant me an (tension of time, I feel sure the resent crisis of the firm could be rerted. In this hope, therefore, I ?g to propose that you should grant le a rene?" The word was never completed. A jdden haze crept up before John aunuw s eyes?grey at first, but upldly darkening, until it had be)me as black as night. The letter, le scanty furniture of the room and ven the light Itself, were all blotted ut from his view, and a terrible arkness covered everything around im. He got up hastily and groped is way to the gas jet. .Then once nore drawing forth his matchbox e endeavored to light the gas, which e imagined must have gone '" at. But o his astonishment and terror he oitld not distinguish tho faintest limmer of a light. He listened, and heard the hiss of I he burning gas, and going close up o it he felt the heat upon his face, lis breath came quick as a horrible uspicion tool: possession of him. In n agony of suspense he thrust his ngers into the flame, which he allost knew to be there though unseen : was, and only withdrew his hand 'hen the fingers had been blistered y the heat. In a frenzy of horror he groped his ay to the outer door of the 'office, nd took one short step into the reet. The cool night air fanned his leek, but all around him was as dark } the grave. Not a ray of light, ot even the vaguest outline of an jject greeted his straining eyeballs, nd then, with a cry of utter despair, 3 realized the terrible truth. He as blind! Feebly he groped his way back to s office chair, and tried to think ilmly upon his horrible situation, ut he could not. Blindness!?that I ost awrul of all calamities?had lien upon him?him, a young man ' but nine-and-twenty?and his life jnceforth must be spent in foneness and darkness beyond descripon. The thought was maddening, is brain reeled and his senses swam. Mth a loud cry for help he fell upon le office floor, and kind unconsciousess came to his relief. When he recovered a confused murlur of voices sounded in his ears, e was in the hospital. The nur e for the day had come on uty, and once as she passed him tie stopped, and, in a sweet, quiet oice, asked him his name. When he >ld her, she stood for some time ilent before him. "How did you sleep?" she asked at ist, in a voice which John thought nusually sympathetic. "Very well," he replied, gratefully. "That is right!" she said, kindly. You must try to get as much rest as ossible, and, above all, you must not 'orry about your affliction. You now, it may be?we hope it is?only jmporary, and you are in good hands ere. Dr. Pope will see you to-day, nd then we shall know more about our case, and be able, I hope, to do ur little part in the great work of estoring to you your lost sight." "Thank you," he said, simply. Your words inspire courage. I trust i uai, unaer the skillful treatment of | >r. Pone and yourselves, I may soon ! ealize the hope which you have so i indly expressed." ! That afternoon Nurse Gertrude was ! ff duty. But Instead of.going out' her usual walk she went straight 3 her bedroom. Locking the door astlly behind her she fell on her nees by the bedside, and. covering er face with her hands, burst Into OME, I will make the ronl tJ til . 1 will make the most ?\ 1 shone upon; J will make divine magnetic lai With the love of comrades. With the life-long love of comi I will plant companionship thlc of America, and along the all over the prairies; I will make inseparable cities, | other's necks; h By the love of comrades, By the manly love of comrades. ^ ^ ' ' ' ,,' _ , ' - tears. Sob after aob shook her frazae as she knelt there alone. de "Oh, Jack," she moaned. "My re Jack! How can I comfort you! How ss can I tell you the terrible truth! hly ut poor, blind, helpless husband!" he She controlled herself with a great wl effort and tried to think calmly what hi she should do. Pr. Pope had told her th at the end of his examination that he ev could hold out no reasonable hope so whatever that John Thurlow's sight an would ever be restored. How anx- fli< iously she had waited that verdict. una now mercilessly tnoso cruel ne words had pierced her heart as she listened, none but herself knew. sh From the first moment when she on had encountered the pale, drawn face wl and sightless eyes of John Thurlow m: in the hospital ward she had recog- It nized him as ihe husband who had deserted her seven long years before, tel But there was no feeling in her heart fa but one of intense sympathy and love of tor him, and a passionate yearning to be able to comfort him and to receive wl anew all those old and treasured ey tokens of his love which had once nr been so dear to her. wl The next day a second examination do took place. When it was ended Dr. fa Pope and Nurse Gertrude passed out he of the dark room together. fa "It is a bad case," he said, when pa they were alone. "I can only confirm ac my opinion of yesterday." re "Do you think he ought to know?" be she asked, in a voice which she tried to control. gr Dr. Pope glanced at her curiously. th "Why?" he asked, half smiling, fe "Would you care to be the bearer of su such terrible tidings?" fr "I?I think," she said, bravely, "I lo would rather tell him than any one pr else. He is my?my?husband!" cb And then in a broken voice she recounted her early life to the doctor, ca whose kindly nature and warm, re- 1)6 sponsive heart had won so many simliar confidences from those about ?* him. 1,1 "Well," he continued, after a **i pause, "I think you had better tell your husband what J havo said. I will, however, perform an operation SC upon one eye. But you must not place the smallest hope in the result. T1 It is merely a forlorn hope?and, in- ^ deed, barely that?which I am only ^ induced to undertake by the possibility that his present unbroken darkness may be thereby relieved by the pI reappearance of light, though not, I ai am afraid, cf sight." "Very well, doctor," she said, "and ai thank you." And she went back to m her patients. 8? That evening she led John Thurlow ^ Into a small, unoccupied ward, and, placing a chair for him, sat down be- r* side hini. "I have something to tell you," she began, striving to speak calmly. "Have you?" he asked, eagerly. "Yes. But first, will you not tell ^ me a little about yourself? I know something of your early life. Will you not tell me all about it? Perhaps I may be able to help you." And aj she laid her hand lightly upon nis, fr as If to still further appeal for his ru confidence. nc A shadow crossed John Thurlow's as face, in which both pain and self-re- Cf proach were plainly visible. Almost ai instinctively he knew that what Nurse ^ Gertrude had said referred to his long-deserted wife. "Have you met her?" he asked (j quickly. ch "I know her," she replied, in a low f0 voice, which even he could scarcely <j> hear. dr "Ah!" he groaned. "I was mad se then! And now?now she would not W| look at me! Perhaps for her sake it jn Is better so. For had we never parted ^ she would now have had me?blind aj and helpless and ruined as I am?to ch care for and work for?a life-long burden upon her frail resources." .ire juu sure, sne asKea, loOKing ^1 earnestly and lovingly Into his poor is sightless eyes. M "It seems but reasonable," he re- fe plied, sadly. le; "But suppose she still loves you! th Could you not love her In return, and di take her to your heart as you did ou when she was a foolish, wayward girl, of and try to forget the bitter memories re of the past?" a "Would to God that were possl- de ble!" he said, with a sigh of regret. it? "But could I?as I am, blind, help- pr less, beggared?ask forgiveness of the th woman whom in the days of my pros- m perity I cruelly and shamefully de- tli serted?" in For answer she put both her arms th about his neck, and, kissing him tenderly, burst into a flood of happy tears. ha "Winnie!" he said, with a cry of w astonishment, "is it you? I cannot ba see you! Is it really you?" T1 "Ob, Jack!" she whispere.', broken- co ly. "My own dear Jack! God has ar given you back to me once more, and tli though your dear eyes may, perhaps, el never see my face again, you will al- is ways have me to care for you and see \V for you, and tell you how dearly I ac love you!" de And that was how she conveyed to ba him the truth which the doctor had se commissioned her to tell. te Q + I se Pco iuo, to CO acleg. gc k as trees along all the rivers shores of the great lakes, and s]i with their arms atout each t ? .Valt Whitman. V* a John ThurloiwL cou'd not '*11 to onrstand all that%her words meant Iq gard to his loM1 8,*bt. Btit the reet, kindly way iW1 whlch they were tered, and, aboveV*11- the earnest artfelt feeling A? thankfulness lich rcse up slmultiS|P?ousllr w'thin m that his wife was\ound at lastat she loved him stllfV-na>"? with en a greater lovo thau\of yore? ftened the bitterness of\the blow, d helped him to bear his ^reat af" ction with courage and foiwtude"Why do they call you GertWude*" asked. % "It is my second name, you knV>Tr?'' e said, smiling. "There was alr^d? e Nurse Winnlfred in the hospifo8! lero I beean mv training an t tnnViK y second name, and have retainedXl ever since." A And then they sat hand in hand, J lling each other all that had be lien them In those seven long years separation. Three weeks later the bandages ' lich had covered John Thurlow's es since his operation were reoved, and the first soft rays of light lich filtered through the veiled winiws of the ward revealed to him the ; ce he loved best on earth?not as i knew it seven years before, but r more beautiful, because it had .ssed through the fire of tribulation, id now possessed a new grace and finement which had not been there ; ifore. Gradually John Thurlow's sight ew stronger and stronger, and, ough it never became quite so perct as of old, it enabled him to pure any avocation he pleased. And om that day forward John Thur- ; w's business steadily but surely ospered. When he was at last dislarged from the hospital it was to am that Rankins', hearing of the ? .lamity which had befallen him, and dng wel convinced of his undoubted isiness qualities and high principles honesty, had agreed to renew the . 11 which had so terribly harassed ' m that fatal night. During his enforced absence, also, s energetic clerk had been doing >od work. Severa. old speculations id turned out successfully and John hurlow found, to his intense relief, at the crisis which had so recently ireatened him had been averted, eadily and surely step by step the :tle business thrived and grew, and osperity began to smile on him lew. The flat at Harlem was deserted, id, in a neat little villa at Larchont John Thurlow and his handime wife still live to bless the day hen, out of the shadow of a great irkness, the light of love had iwned for them indeed.?New York reeklv. mwf/iSBmm *y i LI1 y nuu 0 Five hundred ether colors be:ide3 izarin and indigo are to-day made ] om coaT-tar. Formerly allowed to ' n to waste, this offensive liquid , iw furnishes the world with its most tonishing illustration of the power chemistry in taking waste products id in turning them back again into e channels of profitable use. From coal-tar Professor Remsen irived saccharin. Already other lemlsts had made coal-tar the basis r the manufacture of innumerable J es and perfumes and flavors and ugs. It was reserved for Dr. Rem- ( n to find that coal-tar contained Ithin it the possibility of a sweeteng material of six hundred times the [ iwer of ordinary cane-sugar. An mpst Infinitesimal amount of sac,arin will sweeten a cup of coffee. The extremes to which chemists 111 go In the use of waste material Illustrated by a case furnished by r. Peter T. Austen, formerly prossor of chemistry at Rutgers Colge. At Mulhausen, in Germany, ere was a yarn-mill. This mill proiced, as a waste-product, an enormia quantity of soapBuds. The sight soapsuds going absolutely and irvecably to waste was so painful to neighboring chemist that finally ho ivised a method by which he preciplted those suds with lime, and eased them into briquettes. Furermore, from the briquettes be anufactured a gas which had three nes the illuminating power of ordary gas, and which he used to light e mill. A French inventor, M. Paul Jegou, is devised an electrolytic detector hich operates without the use of a ittery to affect telephone receivers, le detector consists-of a glass cup ntalning at the bottom a small uount of mercury with some pure a in solution. This serves as one ectrode, while t'ne other electrode of the usual type, namely a flno ollaston wire. Diluted sulphuric id is used for the electrolyte. The ' tector is found to act like a small ittery, and yet possesses all of the nsitiveness of the electroyltic dector. One of these detectors used Paris was found to receive signals nt from the Ouessant post on the ast.?Scientific American. Patient Explanation. i "Something wrong with my right i .alii ? *w - ?>, duiu me uiau ai me notei unter. "Could you direct me to a i od carpenter?" "Excuse me," said the clerk, with a j Y glance of amusement at the lady | tokkeeper, "hut of course you mean chiropodist." I "No. I'm going to be patient with ] u, young man. and tell yon I want < gocd crrpenter. My right leg is wooden one."?Washington Star. i TIIE BROWNIES AND THE WATEJ FAMINE. The town wan much in need of rain, That seemed to linger o'er the mam. And leave the country. Bad to see, With scarcely water for the tea. (And this says naught of bird or beast, Whose sufferings hardly were the least.) The wells were deepened in the hope Of striking veins of greater scope. And pumps were rattled out of use For water they could not produce. When Brownies met, as day withdrew, The situation to review. Raid one: "The land we love so dear Is passing through a test severe. Ittiere may be water in the sea 'jkat suits the sailor to a T, >rmviding he can hold his grip Jptdte *** yard> and keep his ship; ne lw'ave no doubt this moment breaks iloniM^ke shores of upper lakes, ^nd ln^'1* r'ver known as wide, Some w\ter mn-v to ocean glide, jut let. iMe Dettk my feelings out; 'here's nek* much freshness hereabout; 'he grass \? n\or? ia Free" and good; -he forest kindling-wood; v Merited through misliau iliRut " Vha nge\f^e features of the map; tna if a ck-n*,**" ever nigh "or work, it lo3^9 us ,n the e>'e'These people thraj* know it all," Another said, "ana\\et fe'J ro digging where, Ttnfe Adams day gill of water nevei\ -v* * 'They churn the pum^k^J" hours, J"? Bring nothing in returnV 8 we*- , Ve know where babbling\?l)n.nK8 are 'oun )f which they ne'er gctY?'^1 or "ound iVe'll bring from there a g*d?" 8apply Before the stars have left tW?, ?k>* L'hough we for fields may nolkam8 do, sor cause the trees to leaf an^P> -Ve'll aid the people of the toVn That are in heart so broken dv" tway to that clear spring we'll tr??l' To bring them water for their souw? Vnd raise their spirits with a sup^^ ,, )f something from their morning cuU1iVithin five minutes by the clock \ That overlooked the village block, \ They took the highway in a string \ That led them to that hidden spring. \ lome had a cart or dray, and more B 'ushed jolting wheelbarrows on before, iVith vessels new, or odd and old, Chat would the precious water hold. They carried churns, the whirling kind, Ana some for dasher-work designed, But, as they hoped, in proper trim To carry water to the brim. They soon were on the homeward track, And of supply there was no lack. For, let the reader bear in mind, That which the Brownies seek they find. They rode upon the water cart That took the liquid at the start l\ here, bursting ironi the granite rent. The treasure found a generous vent, Though, guarded well by rocks and trees The place was not approached with case \nd wheels ran high, nnd wheels ran low And called for many a "turn and ?o!"' said one: "We've heard of Hoous thai swept The people seaward as they slept. And buried homes in water quite L'ntil the town was out of sight; [But here's a midnight flood, 1 think, That coines to save instead of sink. And old and young will bless the day The Brownie baud came round this way.' Thc^ fountain basin in the square. WW *wl uvtno, V HCil I'.UC, And soon the splashing water fell Into each deep and empty well. And pumps that oft were worked in vail Now answered quickly, free as rain, lill people drank a double share, IVhile iiots were boiling everywhere. Die bubbling kettle sang a tune rhat lifted every spirit soon. And jcy was spread throughout the tewn In every district, up ar.d down, For homes were all with plenty stored Until the rain of autumn poured. ?Palmer Cox, iu St, Nicholas. ..VrV(i ' GAME OF BEAN BAG. Two captains are chosen, who se lect an equal number of players foi their sides. The sides stand so tha they are in two lines facing eacl other. \ Each captain stands on thi right-hand end of his line. By thii arrangement the captains are thei diagonally opposite. Each captali throws a bean bag to the player oppo Bite. These players throw tho bagi across to the players second In line These second players throw the bal back to the opposite side, but to tbi players next to those who had the bags last. This plau is contlnuec down both lines, so that every oni has a turn to throw and to catch eacl bag. The bags return In the sam< way. Playing with the two bag; makes the game very Interesting, es pecially since the bag3 cross in abou the middle of the line. When a playei misses a catch or throws to the wronj person he must join the line at th< other side. After each bag has beei up and down the line twice the garni is ended. The side having the mos players wins the game. To keej Bcore, count the players on each sldt at the close of the game. If one sidi has six players and the other sld< eight the score Is six to eight. Whei the players on one side are fewei than those of the other, the en( player of the short side throws th< bag to each of the extra players 01 the long side before It starts bacl down the line.?Washington Star. HOME OF THE SHETLAND PONY Just off the coast of Scotland then Is a group of islands called the Shot land Islands. On one of this groui of Shetlands the men are so largt they are almost giants, for they an tall, strong and broad shouldered Their wives and children, too, are fin< looking and intelligent. Only twenty, five miles away from this island n Petlar Is one called Muckle Roe There the men are small, ill-shapen homely, and, in fact, look almost like queer little dwarfs. These people ure so very loyal to each other thai they do not like to welcome any ol their neighboring islanders to live ir Muckle Roe. For this reanon these queer peoplo make very lLtle progress. When the peoplo of Hhetlanl Islands reach the age of twrtity'the} Feel rather sure of a long life, for ovei half of the population live to be sev nnty years old and many o'f the peopl< lead vigorous out-of-door lives uutl they are put eighty y^ars of age. tl i The Shetland ponies are known t?l" world over. They are shaggy llttto h?j9|T| I anlmati weltrhlnu ??!*. ~" . ?.? w.n...uC) VUIJ auvuv uuu hundred pounds, but they are very. hardy, sure footed and sensible. tHW Their coats are usually some shafa Jn of brown, though some are of sucn jHH a rich black that they are considers^ very beautiful. For this reason the black ponies arc the mo3t valuably , The sheep of Shetland are small, having short tails and short horns. Some tj^HU are white, other gray white; still others are brown or black, necaus? the wool grown on the native sheep of Shetland Is finer than that growj* Jafljj on any other sheep, Shetland wools S| are sold a great deal in their natsrgl -lB| colors for fancy work. The wool is so fine that it can be spun into threads finer than lace threads. It Is a Shetlander's boast that a stocking made of the wool of one of these native sheep may be drawn through 4M a lady's ring. The cows of these islands are small, and usually marked ^jHj with several colors. The native pigs of Shetland arc unlike the native vM "porkers" we are used to seeing, for .gall they are quite slim, on account of. 4H 1 being fed on fl3h. Their meat, too, ,1 has a different flavor, for the taste ot ; fish is even in the porU.?'Washing. ^KS ton Star. THOMAS EDISON. This is a true story about a man who is alive to-day. He has Invented VBj a talking machine, has given us tlio electric lights and has invented ban- VH dreds of useful things which give comfort to people all over the world* He has even made an Instrument to measure the heat of the far-off stars.. Sixty-three years ago, when this \ great man was born, no one dreamed Vhat some day the name of Thomas JK gMison would he so famous. As the, IjVle boy grew into childhood he a8i^pd many questions which were dif- . Qcupt to answer, for he wanted to know\ the why and how of many ^ things\ When young Edison was twelveVears old he began to earn*. money, nPr started in business as a newsbo^ selling fruits, peanuts and '*^Hs papers on train. . Ills brightness ' and pleasantness gained many cus-. 't tcmers. V With the money earned he bought., 1 powders and liquids to use lor ex- " J^K periments. All of these jars and bot- jMRn ties of things were kept in an old baggage car and labeled "poison," son* that no one would interfere with them. Soon Edison wanted to print iflgt ' a paper of his own, so bought some old type from a printing office. Hla shop was in the baggage car where he kept his chemicals. After being a K newsboy for four years an accident ^^B 1 happened which caused young Edison tJP to change his work. The baggage i?L car in which the bey kept his chtjnIcals and printing press caught fire* by the falling of a bottle of phos- .jwP phorus on the floor. So angry w-as the conductor that after putting out the firQ hP boxed Thomas Edison's earay^jjlgR^^E and threw his materials out of the A-yjflyr car. Later Edison set up his printing press at his home. ? ?-A. As the boy grew older he studied [ telegraphy from a Mr. McKcnsie, who & * took great pains in teaching Edison, ifomvBg 1 for Edison had risked his life to save fr i that of Mr. McKensie's child, who 5 was playing on the track of a moving 1 engine. The great inventor as a T AHb 1 vnnne man was not vprv Kiirnpssfnl In V * iX . keeping positions, (or his employers f complained that he had too many plans of his own. As the man grew older these plans 4 and many more were worked out until Thomas Edison has given pleasure . *' and comfort to millions of people by tho work of his hands and brain. jJe This untiring worker still spends much of his time In trying to discover , better ways of doing things.?Wash- ~***jaBSr ington Star. Jyf: The Little Red Devil. JK You will often run across a Jolly Qi looking individual who wears a but- . " " ton on which is a figure which looks Cfg 9 like a little red devil. ' He belongs to . 1 the Order of the Rejuvenated Sons of > Jove and must necessarily be an elec- . trlcal man. 9 The order Is national in its scope ? ; 9 and includes electrical salesmen, en- w 1 gineers, inventors, manufacturers and * y r others engaged in electrical callings. , SgjJ 1 Every once in a while the order holds 3r. 9 a "rejuvenation;" they had one at 1 the last electrical show in Chicago. 1 It is told that they had u pair of "electrical shoes" there through which the luckless initiate, before his "*"$^83 rejuvenation was esteemed complete, ^ Jp\ i received most startling shocks.? w - Popular Electricity. JK ? One of Time's Change*. jfJgqBEj Take our own New Haven, for in- jfl stance. Here in New Haven flrty J years ago, forty years ago, we as n I - city were tlie centre of the carriage sSBRTjj f manufacturing interest cf the. United ffi M States. New Haven was pre-eminent- flHBnjj . ly a city of carriage factories. Now J Kg s there is hardly one factory left tl voted to carriage manufacturing, fl B t these factories are now automobiljf m m/pl t horseless carriage?factories. Ou f' B i carriage -manufacturing fled Wcs? BmIMM ; years ego and now It Is the automo- 1 H - bile business that reigns here Instead WLd|^H I in our formor carriage factories, uud "SSI r this work is chiefly the manufacture ^B|B? ing of the wood work of autos.? Bj ' ?2 - New Haven Courier-Journal. V JH j v igSjl I The surface of the earth Is said to j te 194,971,984 square miles.