'ci ~ -.
IF II- 4
EST BLI H D 144
TRI WEEKL Y EDITI(D WINNSBOV s.C., APRIL 17. 900.AWRNN TO PARODISTS.
THE LOVE OF LOVES.
BY MADISON CAWEIN.
I have not seen her face, and yet
She is inore s.ceet than anything
Of earth; than rose or violet
That April winds and sunbeams bring.
o; all we know, past or to come,
Of loveliness none can forg't,
She is the high compendium;
And yet
I have not touchel her rol"e, and still
She Is more dear than Lyric words
Of music, or than strains that fill
Witli brooks and throats of summer bird
Of all we mean by poetry.
That rules the soul and charms the will,
:!e is the deep epttomre,
And still
She Is my world, ah, pity mr:
A dream that fles whom I virsue:
Whon all pursue, whoe'er they be,
1ho toil for art and dare and do;
The shadow-love for whom they sigh
The far Ideal affinity, '
For whom they live or gic d1y die.
Ah, me!
-anturday Evening Post.
8 A 5targ of llpnotisni.
8
STRAL body wi
not an expressio
entirely withot
meaning for x
when I first m,
Simcox. If any or
had then asked n
what t h e ter:
meant, I would ce:
tainly have ma.e some attempt to di
fine it, although my definition woul
just as certainly have been vague an
Runsatisfactory.
It was through Clarence that I mE
Simcox. The two had been frienas i
Ceylon, as I understood, though h.o
or why I never knew, and it alwa3
seemned strange. Clarence's busine:
in Ceylon was coffee planting, and i
seemed that Simeox's was astri
bodies. The only natural thing abot
their old acquaintance seemed to 1
that Clarence always knew queer pe<
ple, and surely Simeox was queer.
Wby, how oltdo you take me I
be?" he asked me suddenly one dal
when I had said that something <
other had happened before his timi
And when ranswered that he looke
to me to be about forty, he laughe
quite heartily.
It so happened that this converse
tion took plade as we were walking tc
gether to Madison Square, where w
We-e toisit an exhibition of paini
.ings, old and mocern.
Wien w6 had spent about half a
hour ranging through the gallerie:
Simeox and I found ourselves stani
ing before a portrait of a Spanis
where about the time of Qneen Eli2
beth. The figure was dressed
armor, except for the head, which c
bare, and ahowed a fine head of da
chestnut hair.
'This i4 the picture I wanted y
to see," si!d Simeox. "Let's sit do
on this settee and take it all in."
I could not remember that Sim<
"had said anything to me about seei
any picture in particular.
"Well, what do you think of i1
Simcox asked me pi esently.
"Fine," I said.
"I suppose it is," said Simeox.
,suppose it is fine. People have b<
- saying that about it for three hun~
years. I suppose al! the lords
ladies of the Spanish Court said it'a
fine when they first saw it. I was
I int'You're not quite so old as all tha
of hiterjected. thinking of the-myst
- "No,age.
so old. "'he said, smniiing, "not qa
the Court 6nd I wouldn't have beei
is~one critirsaT2tag ?Uther But l)
might, have made, though I nev
heard that they did."
"What's that?"
"Simply that it isn't true to life
"But you don't mean to say it isr
lifelike?" I said in asto:nishment.
"What I mean .is that it isn't;
much like the original as it mig:
have been. It would have bet
just as easy .for Velasquez i
have made it perfectly true.
don't see why he didn'tL-I never die
On the whole, it doesn't flatter H:
Highness. His jaw was not near.
such a cruel looking square thing
* that. And yet the painter has take
the trouble to curl and lengthen an
dandify the mustache almost out<
recognition."
*"Why, Simeox," I said, "you tai
as if youj.new the original in t1I
-flesh!"
"Well," he said. "I don't and I dc
Yon see, my dear fellow, to know:
man's astral body is about the sam,
thing as knowing the ma- in what yo
call 'the flesh.' You use the crud
term of a wornout medimval philosc
phy. An astral body may produce a
times a faint impression on the eye
but it stands to reason it must b
exact."
It occurred to me at this point thia
Simcox needed fresh air. I had neve:
before heard any one talk in this glib
matter of fact way about astral boiiies
Elither Simcox was crazy or there wa
something uncanny about him, il
spite of his brisk, happy, everyda:
manner.
"Oh, jou're surprised, are you?'
he said, chuckling to himself, "I migh
have guessed that a man who talk:
about knowing people 'in the flesh
would be. Let's have a practical dem.*
onstration"
"Good heavens!"Ilexclaimied. '-Yot
don't mean to tell me that you are go
ing to raise the ghost of this old Span
iard?"
"'-v ~'e~Ikon't 'raise ghosts,' " Simeds
e;with some impatience, 'oi
mnthem, Bat if yonae
I When we got tohis rooms and Ihad
seated myself as comfortably as my
nervous state of mind would allow,
Simeox busied himself rumaging in
the drawers of a rolltop desk.
"I don't need any very elaborate
apparatus, you see," he said, "hut
there is one thing somewhere in tb-s e
drawers, if I can only find it, that
ought to help a good deal. Ab, here
lit is."
He produced what I at first took to
be a glass paperweight. On closer
inspection it turned out to be a Japan.
ese crystal ball, very clear and exquis
itely mounted,bnt not mounted on any
carved stand, like most of those I have
seen.
"Just hold this, will you?" he said.
I took the crystal in my hand.
"You had better sit here," he said,
"with you back to the window. I
want the light to come over yont
shoulder."
I ought to say that in that windot
0 frame there was no curtain of an3
o kind, only a brown holland window
0 blind, which was rolled up. In front
? of me. as I sat with my back to the
0 light was nothing but an open carpet
ed space. Indeed, bareness was the
most obvious characteristic of Sim
cox's room. It was more like a law
t yer's office than a private sitting room.
e "Now, I am going to stand behind
you, if you don't mind," he said, and
e acted accordingly. -
e In obedience to his instructions I
held the crystal in my lap with both
hands and looked intently at it. Once
I could not resist the temptation to
d look behind me and see what he was
d doiag. He was standing with arms
extended, waving his hands about.
;t "Never mind me," he said. "Yor
keep your eyes fixed on that crystal."
After that I kept my eyes on tht
s crystal constantly. Presently a mist
seemed to shut out the point of light
t on which I was gazing. It was a
white mist at first, but turned to a
t dark brown. Out of the mist pres
e ent y came the gray glimmer of armor:
- then above the ara ir I could make
out flesh tints; then the curling chest
o nut hair, the peaked beard and the
tmustache. The face was more clearly
r defined than it was in the portrait I
- had been looking at.
d "Now," said Simeox, speaking from
d behind me, "was I right? Isn't the
chin much more humane than Velas
quez made it?"
"Yes," I answered. "And the
e mustache is smaller and the hair
closer cropped. But it is a wonderful'
likeness, on the whole."
a "It is,'? said Simeox. "And now
" you know what an astral body is.
- Let's go and have some oysters."
l waol: thing was gone. I was!)
a- So we went out and got some oysters.
in Some months later Simeox himself
as was gone. But I got by mail a marked
rk copy of a small scientific pamphlet.
It was printed in England. The
on marked passage was a terse statement
vn of "Case 10-Mr. X., New York, U.
S. A." The essential facts of the fore
'X going story were given in half a page
ng of print. I was "Mr. X."
"Clarence," I said next time I rr et
?" that interesting person, "who the
deuce is Simecox?"
"Simeox? Didn't you know. It
"Iseems that Simecox is a big man. SiLn
~en cox i-s Meffler, the English doctor
:ed iexpert on hypnosis and hallucina
aid tions."-San Francisco Ca!l.
ras ____________
-Lucile's Snake Story.
t?" ILucile Caldwell, a ten-year-old
r Sionx City girl, is the heroine of a
big, but true snake story. Miss Caid
ite well took home from O'Neill, Neb.,
at the scene of the story, 256 sets ot
ere rattles from~ rattle.iuakes. to prove it.
- -- ?so girl's tale in Tier own
er words:
"My uncle and I were walking along
the banks of the Niobrara River, with
.cut thinking of any danger, when, all
'in an instant, we were surrounded
Iby a swarm of loathsome rattlesnakes.
asI never was so frightened in my life.
itMy uncle began killing them right
mand left, and handed me a heavy stick
:and told mc to defend myself. We
Istood side by side, and as the snakes
c rawled toward us we killed them. It
iswas a fight for life. When the battle
y was over the ground was covered with
idead and dying snakes."-Minneapolis
n (Minn.) Times.
Not Accordinn to the Rlegulatlons.
k Lord Roberts, the British comman
eder in South Africa, is very popular
among the rank and file, who usually
refer to him as "Bobs." He began [
Ihis career in 1851 as a Second Lieu
tenant in the artillery, and fought and
Iworked his way up with remarkablea
success. No one better understands
e"Tommy Atkins." When near a bar
racks in India one day he wasa-1
noyed by several terriers belonging
to the soldiers The owners rushed
e forward, kicked the quadrupeds, andf
humbly apologized for their pets' mis-<
Ideeds. The Colonel listened and then]
said: I
"They undoubtedly make good secu
tries, but I don't like the way theyc
salute their superior officers."-Phil
adelphia Saturday Evening Post. 1:
Animals That Are Not Dying Out,
tBuffaloes and elephants are by no ~
means approaching extinction as rapid- I
tly as is commonly supposed. Tm-I
mense herds of buffaloes roam about I
the vast northern plai is of Australia,
but bloodthirsty natives are also n-I
merous in that region, and buffalaI
hunters carry their lives in their V
hands. Also, according to the latest 1
anmber of the British North Borneo
cHeraMi large numbers of elephants
tbe unthJtgles of that colony.
-th of.;Sanadakan
sureo~
0i TALES OF PLUCK
I ANDABEUE
A Fatal Hunt.
MANY sportsmen say that no
other hunting can compare
in interest and exhilaration
with the stalking of the
chamois or the ibex among the peaks.
of the snow covered mountains. The
danger of the sport does not lie in the
game, but in the nature of the hunt
ing grounds, and many a hunter has
sacrificed his life in the chase. Half
% century ago a gallant young Irish
nan named Peyton met with a terri
ble experience among the mountains
)f India, which he thus de cribes:
'We arrived in Cashmere and lost
2o time in getting into the Wardwau
Valley, famous for the large horned
bex. The country was all under
snow, and as the snow continned to
all for several days we were obliged
:o remain indoors, and Surgeon Wray,
rho was a splendid musician, amused
:lie villagers by playing his violin to
:hem.
"At last the sun came out, and we
ieard several avalanches slipping
lown the mountain. Our men were
nucu averse to going out, and I must
:ay I thought they were right. How
sver, poor Wray in a jocular tone said
ye 'fanked.' This settled the matter,
nd out we went.
"We proceeded up the valley about
;even miles along the banks of a small
-iver, which divided the mountains
a both sides of it. We saw a fine
ierd of male ibex, but in consequence
)f the heavy snow we were unable to
:reep round by a circuitous route and
talk the herd from above.
"So we four spread a blanket in a
avine next to where the ibex were
nd sat down close together upon it,
keeping ourselves warm.
"Suddenly we heard a noise like
listant thunder; then spray and stones
ollowed. Our men called out, 'An
valanche is falling!' Although I had
een several falls, this seemed to me
iite different, more like a landslip.
[t covered a breadth of at least one
iundred yards, three or four hundred
rards long and fifty or sixty feet in
lepth.
"This enormous mass, like a small
nonntain tearing -with its rock and
arth, moved toward us much too
nuickly for us to get out of its way by
-nning down before it. The whole
:hing-looked weird and supernatural.
cut off our escape in that direc
tion. Ov our left was a very wide
trench, which separated us from a
shoulder of a mountain large enough
to protect us from the approaching
avalanche if we could jump the chasm
and get shelter under it.
"I pointed out to my companions
our only chance of escape; by this
time the avalanche had approached
within fifty or six::y paces of us.
"I led the way, made a spring for
my life, lauded safely on the side of
the chasm and crouched under the
shelter of th.e hill, which was -only
three or four paces from the side I
jumped on.
"Looking around, to my horror I
saw my poor friend Wray and the
other twvo men dashed forward by the
avalanche and buried under a mon
tain of snow. My dear old servant,
Abel Khan, who had all the nerve and
activity of an ibex, could have jumpe
the chasm, butE th,e Meini
wauc'TZrmy heavy Lancaster
rie on his back.
".Che thought haunts m-e to this
day. Had be had a fair run he would
have saved his life by clearing the
chasm as I had done, although it was~
a big jump.
"By this time Patto Khan, brotne' i
of Abel Khan, who haid been left to
watch the ibex about a quarter of a
mile to our left, came to the cave in
which I had taken shelter. He had
witnessed the whole occurrence and
had seen his brother killed. Ho cried
most piteously, lamenting over the
loss-of his brother and myself, who he
thought was killed also.
"I called out: 'Putto, fate has been
hard upon us! I am safe!'
"He seemed bewildered and cried
ut: 'No, you are only the spirit come
back to tell me! My beloved brother
and our young sahib are gone.'" "
i SingIe-Uand Fight With Five L!ons.
Occasionally a foolish andl inter
neddling spectator- in a menagerie
vill endeavor to show his brilliancy
y experimenting with the animals.
lore than once this tendency has
vell-nigh cost a performer his life. I
ecali one instance when a performer
vas doing an act in a cage containing
ive lions, the late W. C. Coup, the
>d circus man, was wvont to relate.
fe bad just begun his work, and the'
ions had taken their positions. In the
niddle of the cage, facing him, was
ne large lion, and at either end sat
wo others. Of course a big crowd
Lad collected in front of the cage and
as pressing heavily against the guard
apes. Suddenly a countryman of the
mart kind was seized with a desire
o distinguish himself and attract a
ittle attention. Slipping inside the
opes he stooped down and took up
e ragged little dog that was crouch-,'
ig at his heel:s. Theo instant he'.
fttd the cur up to the level of the!c
age every lion gavo out a roar andc
iade a wildleap for the yellow mon-i
For a few moments the performer 1
as completely lost to view, buried i
aderneath the writhing bodies of the
I m
claw had split his and upper lip. N1
and the tatteredidition of h;%
clothing indicated ise had suffered
severely. Althothis face wa9 IT
bathed in blood, h od his ground
and plied his rod the heads and
noses of the grog beasts until
they were momelry driven back.
L'at they had iasblood and were
furious.- Before lould reach the
door they were atL again, and in
the onslaught his t arm and hip
were frightfully lated. His grit,
however, was indtable, and he
struck and jabbedt and left like a
gladiator. Finally howls of pain
from the lions revel the fact that
he was getting tinpper hand of l
them, and at lastsy were driven
howling and whinin.to the corner=
of the cage and he aed out of the
door. No soorer she safely out
side the cage than became uncon
ScbOUs.
It was a good thin,r the conniry
man whose folly histirred up the ti
lions that he contril to make his
escape from the grcds before the
circus men got hold ainm. This in
cident is simply typica hundreds of
others perhaps moreteresting and
exciting. It will, hever, serve to
indicate the constant -rils that sur
round the trainer or 7former, many
of which arise fro sources over
which he has no coyol.-Saturday
Evening Post.
A Pull of Smoke ThSaved Him.
William Albertson, Spokane. in
describing an early iniug experi
ence of his, said: "In]e seventies I
was in Arizona with aarty prospect
ing the country. A that time the
Apaches were makinghings lively in
that region, and whil nominally we
were on good terms whthe Wallapal
Indians, they were soreacherous we
could place little ppeudence on
them. Our horses ere turned out
to graze at night, an each morning
one or the other c'us went out to
round them up. (ie day when it
came my tarn for th; duty I located
the bunch on a mantain side and
drove them toward to camp. I then
started to do a littleprospecting. I
had a rifle along forprotection from
the Indians, as ouragreement then
was that on no accou.t was a shot to
be firec unless Indian were' sighted.
I found a 'float,' ani on top of the
mountain a better oi, and this led
me to descend the other side. I had
ot down the benches, when my eye
Lit on a hill, which. I felt sure was a
ood prospect, and I itarted for it.
E[ those days, like thti1giis "r,
'1 'ad a heye like an 'awk,' and in-the
distance I suddenly saw a little puff
)f smoke. It was gone in an instant,
but I e meanin&; Indians
and""3rupromp
fire. Without any
steady ascent of th
tending all the time t
and keeping a wary
red devils. Before
they were getting in
had to make a
reaching the ere
rock and began
knew the shot
camp, and sure e
some of the bo
But if I hadn't a
had gone on, it won
up with me. Later.Char
the Government guide,
teIda made our oc
waGeeral Buller wo of it
auneale. Howeve escribe
fiin eord behain we left suf
ou li,and 1- us to establish
Crack, -en the famous Mc
n ie was later located there
t ey compromised with us, and I re
ceived $5000 as my share."
A Dangerous Moment.
One naeed not be a solitier to stand
in need of courage. A clergyman
may find himself confronted with as
nerve-siaaking an ordeal as those
more generally expected by the man
a b:ar. In his retrospect of "The
Lights and Shadows of a Long Epis.
copate," Bishop Wipple tells of a mo
nent when he found it extremely
necessary that his courage should not
fail him.
The Bishop was about to preach in
one of the cathedrals, when there en
tered a divinity stndent whose brain
had becorae deranged by overmuch
study. He went forward, as if t sit
with the others.
"On reaching the chancel, how
eer," says the Bishop, "he stopped,
ad taking a revolver from his pocket,
)oited it at me. I felt what was
coming before the reyolver appeared,
and knowing that the young man was
short-sighted, and that he would prob..
ably wait until sure of his aim. I
walked with quick, long strides
trough the chancel, which is very
eep, grateful that I had been an
thete in younger days.
"At the chancel steps I made a
cap, seized the young man by the
~ollar, and turned him sharply round
vith my knee at his back, while I said
o the congregation, 'Will some one
ake charge of this man? Ho is ini
ane.
"It all happened so quickly that
1 one moved till then. The poor
llow was led out and the service
vent on. It was found that the pistol
mI a hair trigger, and that all the
hambers were loaded, making it a
arvel that no tragedy had occurred."
You'ng George aun<i the Rat.
George Fladiska, aged1 fifteen years,
store boy, coming down North Me.
hanic street in Cumberland, M:1., the
'ther evening was surprised by a rat
arting up his, trousers leg. The rat
ak its teeth in his flesh and the
arder he shook the tighter the rat
eld on, and at last he darted into.
VSl's Creek to drown the rat, but the
ratewas& deep that he-was nearly
n's~ielf. He got rid of the
a~tws badly bitten.
Tehgter all chocolate i.s in color
MWEST KiD m U . far
IS MORE NUTRITIOUS AND CHEAP- I an
ER THAN ANY OTHER.
bt of (r:,titU1de That the Poor of Pails
Ore to Schwitzer-flis Famous uread of
Made From Freshly Ground Wheat- c0
IIow This Novel Food is Prepared. n
HE poor people of t
Paris are in
debted to a man I
with a German i
. name for amethod di
of getting the best s(
bread at the low- s<
a est price. This d
m a n bears the s
name of Schweit- c
zer, and the par- e
- -pose of the so- a
Sciety which uses Io
is method is to establish in all the
opulous centres of France coibina
on milling andbaighsewic
-ill nrnish 100 kilograme-220
ounds-of nutritious and digestible
rhite bread, from an equal amount of
rain at the lowest cost of production.
The model establishment is at La
illette, Paris. In this bakery the
laily sales rose in three months from
>36G.70 to "772, and a corresponding
ncrease was noted in the branch
ioases, which are patronized liberally
n the wealthy quarter of Paris. Offi
,ial analyses demonstrate that the
3chweitzer bread contains more nutri
tive nitrogenous properties than ordi
nary bakers' bread, and more than
double the phosphates in the latter.
The bread, known as family bread, is
sold to the working classes at 4.82
cents for 2.2046 pounds-which is
1.92 cents less than the usual price.
The Villette establishment is a
building of iron and stone 515 feet
long, situated on a canal, and con
structed at a cost of about $193,000.
A steam engine of 150 horse-power
supplies the power and produces the
electricity necessary for lighting pur
poses and for charging the accumu
latora of the delivery wagons.
Just as coffee is better if freshly
roasted and ground, so, Schweitzer
says, bread is better if made from
freshly ground wheat. The flour in
this mill, which is a part of the estab
lishment, is ground only in quantities
sufficient to meet the daily needs of
the bakery.
The wheat arrives in a boat, which
is moored in the canal; elevators hoist
it into bins, whence it is carried by
.n immense elevator to the top of the
. - into the different
mill
cleaning and separating s.
After all foreign substances have been
removed and the n _
nt
circuli
ed in such a mar
ceomplish the huskin
and its granulation int
same time. These grini
vable, but do not touch; s
stead of ci-nshing the wvhet
producing a flour in which thi
ach only is r-etained, the outer an
arder portion of the wheat, contair
|ing gluten and other nutritive proper
|ties, is retained in the flour. Th
bran alone is expelled.
|Attached to the mill are the work
for kneading the meal, water an<
yeast into bread. All of thisi
done mechanically, the works bein
separated into three stories. Specia
yeast is prepared in the upper stor;
in rooms heated in winter and coole<
in summer. The yeast, flour and th<
salted and filtered water are carrie<
down by machinery into kneaders ii
the form of half cylindrical tubs, rota
ting on two pivots placed in the axi
of the kneading troughs, so that thi
tubs may be placed at a lower or highe:
angle to accelerate or retard the knead
ing.
One person can attend to tw<
Schweitzer kneaders, regulating th<
distribution of the dough, and thu:
the kneading of 4109 pounds of dougl
an hour is accomplished.
The steeli arms of the mixing ani
kneading machinery, some of whiel
are ntationary and others mobile
stretch and work the dough much bet
ter than hand power.
The wheat, salted water and yeasi
automatically enter one end of the tub
and dough in an endless skein of pale
yellow issues from the opposite end.
This dough finally falls on tables or
-the ground floor, where it is weighed
-and made into bread of every shape
and dimension. Small wagons are
charged with the shaper, which then
go to the raising room. Each floor
has a fermenting rooms kept at an
even temperature.
The dough, after raising. is carried
by wagons into the baking room,
where it is placed in Scnweitzer ovens,
heated by gas from retorts arranged
in such a manner that the gas does
not enter the oven, and the heat is so
regulated that the baking operation
goes ou anutomatically.
Twice a day-once before dawn and
in the afternoon-ten large two-borss
wagons (which will be used until the
electric carriages shall have been
built) distribute the bread in the dif
ferent depots of the Societe Parisienne
in Paris.
In connection with this model es
tablishment is a laboratory for the
chemical examination of the samples
of wheat submitted for buying. T bese,
upon their arrival, are ground and
passed through a sieve by a small
hand bolting mill, invented by
Schweitzer, which determined imame
diately the nutritive volume of the
grain in gluten and nitrogenous mat
Schweitzer has mills, ovens and
kneaders of various dimensions that
mer to grind his own wheat an1'
ke his bread from an unadulterated
ai wholesome product.
SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL io
So great has been the improvement He
storage batteries of late that, ac
rding to an English engineer, a car An
iw requires 500 poands of cells that
!o years ago needed 1000 pounds. I
It has been discovered that the hu- A
an voice is produced by forty-four
fferent muscles. Fourteen of these 0,
rve for the emission of 16,380T
unds, and the others aid the pro
action of some 175,000,000 different
unds; that is, these forty-four mus
es go to produce millions of differ-0
at tones, which acoustics distinguish P
s absolutely distinct one from the P
ther. H
A very long electric raitway is to be
nuilt in Ohio, connecting Toledo and A
Torwalk and passing through seven
r eight smaller towns. The total
ength will be sixty miles, half of
rhich will be on a turnpike road. The p
)ermanent way will be of substantial
onstruction, as a speed of forty miles
n hour is proposed. Still higher
peed can be made upon a straight
lectric road running on its own right
f way.
Professor C. E. Bessey announces,
n a letter to Science, that he has ob
bained evidence that trees, includin;
such species as oak, hickory, willow,
ottonwood, elm and box elder, are
rapidly advancing in eastern Nebraska.
The areas covered by them are grad
ually creeping up the courses of the
streams and spreading out laterally.
In some cases, the "tree belt" along
rivers has, within twenty-five years,
increased in width from 100 feet to
half a mile, and even a mile.
Paper is proving a very satisfactory
material for driving ropes. . At the
English factories of Wolverhampton,
the rope is made like that from other
materials, and contains three main
strands, each made up of a number of
continuous strips of twisted pulp
paper. The material is made water
proof by treatment with boiled oil.
The rope is fairly emooth and wonder
fully pliant, and in recent tests for
driving machinery it has been only
slightly polished under conditions
that have caused cotton rope to be
come badly worn and frayed. Its
actual tensile strength is supposed to
be considerably less than that of
ope.
in evanescent cloudlets
Scatter air- near the earth are
hrongh th o,
ar up
aterally is sc
e of oil of limes wa,
inntes passing through a
three feot long, but the wind
transports the odors far and rapidly.
r Rev. John M. Bacon, who has been
investigating the subject, mentions a
g smell of burning fat that was drawn
o by the wind into a stream much more
. than seven miles long but of little
o width. He mentions the record of a
~boat's crew that was enveloped in a
edense wr eath of wood smoke when
400 miles at sea; and also that of a
- smell of priLneval forests that seemed
.to have been borne by a cyclone across
the A tlantic to the coast of France,
Irrigation in Siberia.
SIf the winters are long in Siberia
and very cold, on the other hand the
summers are extremely warm and
dry. The small streams of water dry
up during this season, and agricail
ture suffers much from this state of
things.
jTo remedy the evil, the following is
what the inhabitants of certain dis
tricts do. Daring the winter they
collect the snow which, as is well
known, fails in abundance in these
regions, and accumulate it at the bot
tom of some narrow valley. They
press it and make it compact so that
it will be more resistant to thawing.
At the end of the wintor they cover
the enormous piles which they have
thus formed with branches, straw,
manre or earth, in order to protect
the snow against the rays of the sua
Iand the exterior heat.
Then, when after long days without
rain the temperature is much elevatedl
and the water of the streams begins
to dry up, the snow, in spite of th3
it's covering, commences to melt, and
by means of a ditch made for this
purpose, the 'sater which runs down
supplies the river until the return or
the winter.
The Fate of the Keely Motor.
The big steel globe which stood for
Imany years in the workshop of the
late John W. Keely, on Twentieth
street, above Master, and which played
a big' part in some of the puzzling
performances of that incomprehensible
inventor, is now doing splendid ser
vice as an advertising medium. The
globe is still mounted on the heavy
frame that Keely built for it, and han
been chained to a ring in one of the
llagstones in front of the old workshop
on Twentieth street. Its suirtace has
been painted a brilliant yellow, antl
black letters an inch high have been
utilized to make the advertising matter
conspicuous. -Philadelphia Itecord.
Where Miarconi's Plan Failed.
Experiments with the Marconi sys
tem of wireless telegraphy have been
tried lately between De Aar and Mod
der River with stations at various in
termediate points.
Messages have been successfully
sent between Orange River and Ensli
during the last day or two, but great
difficlty-was experienced, and little
further success has been attained
Fowing to the odd fact that the ex
traorinary amount of iron in the
neighboring hills played all sorts of
pranks with the system.- Cape Town
teoa.."eats Once Too Often.
3larence Douglas, of Purcell, OkIla.
na, a few weeks ago wrote the fol
ring poem:
MA' AND Y(ATIMz
v grand to stand upon the virgin plain.
Vhen stars are beaming in the sky,
d hear ttte distant thundering train.
nd see it gashing by.
a small a thing man seems to be,
ith such immensities in view;
.rain of sand beside the sea,
t fragile drop of dew.
proud and boastful man, take heed,
ehold te mighty works of God.
ou art a little thing, ideed
& grass blade in the sod!
When Editor Williams, of Ardmore,
klahoma, saw the poem he too his
n in hand and wrote the following
trody:
ow sad to stand out on the lonesome
plaini,
When clouds are heavy in the sky.
nd be exposed unto the wind and rain,
While she you love is dry.
ow small a thing man seems to be
When be is wet theough to the hid.
eeause her dad will not agree
To let him woo inside.
, proud and boastful man, take heed,
The old ciap's big and roughly shod.
Lis better to get wet, indeed,
Than lie beneath the sod!
When the poet saw the parody be
bouldered his trusty rifle and started
overland for Ardmore. The editor
as in when he called. Then a shot
-ang out, and there was a vacancy
or a live newspaper man in that
ricinity. A trial ensuing, Mr. Douglas
ras found not guilty by an Oklahoma
ury, and the incident was declared
-osed. Now, let Kipling and Austin
go to Oklahoma. There they may
ind protection from the parodists and
satirists. There alone, apparentil
does the sacredness of the sublime
songster's calling find the recogai-.
tion that is necessary to keep it from
going to pot.-Chicago Times.Herald.
The Largest Tree in the World.
In Nassau, the capital cityof the ,,t
Bahama Islands, they say "the tree
in the public square"--not the trees.
Now the public square of Nassau as
auite as large as that of most cities of
the size, but there is only one tree in
it, and that tree literally fills the
square and spreads its shade over all
the public buildings in the neighbor- -
hood. For it is the largest tree. in
the world at its base, although it is
hardly taller that a three-story houss.
It is usually known as a ceiba, or a
silk cotton tree lit the people of the-.
low islands of the West Indies cal
the hurricane tree. For no matter
iatter how hard the wind blaara
otduistri
ib*
of last s rin all the alms a
of the her trees of Nassaa vers'_.
overturned,'lht the great hurricane.
tree, although it lost all its leaves, did
not lose so much as a branch. Its
trunk throws out great curving. wing=
like braces, some of them twenty fset
wide and nearly as high. These ex
tend into the ground on all sides and
brace the tree against all attack, while -,
the great branches throw a thick
shade overhead. In the tropic sun.
shine of midsummer hundreds, even
thousands, of people gather in the
cool of its shadow. A very old picture
in the library at Nassau shows the
tree as bigas it is at present and even
the oldest negro in the island cannot
remember when it was a bit smaller.
What Decided Hima.
A man engaged in the building
trade took it -into his head a Sunday
or two ago to attend service at the
place of worship of a comparatively
newly formed body on the west side
When the service was over he con.
trived to put himself in the way of one
of the leaders and priucipal support
ers of the church, and drew him into -
conversation.
"I like your service,' said the
builder.
y"Do you? I am glad," was the re
"Yes." the builder went on. "I
think I shall come here on Sandays."
"We shall be pleased to see you, I
m sure," said the other.
Then the builder, revealing how
his great heart pulsated, asked in a
rather eager tone: "Ah, you're going
to build a new church soon, I sup
pose?"
"Yes, we're thinking about it, some
diy," answered the churchman.
"Then," continued the builder,
"you haven't a irember in my line in
the congregation, have you?"
"I don't think we have."
That decided the builder. "sYei,,
he said, "I think I shall come herea
and the two separated. -Chicaj~
News.
He nosge to the Occasion.
There was a bit of fence opposite
Rowley's drug store in T--, Ken.,
and as it proved convenient to
loungers it was broken down more
once. The owner, after putting it-in
order a second time, fastened a barbedl
wire on the top. There was fun fo:
the clerks for a while watching thosj
who, when just about to sit dor:,
suddenly concluded that business
called them elsewhere. One day a
farmer in from the country longed
up to the fence and, without noticing
the barbed wire, drew himself up and
'tat down equarely. Ho didn't jump,
he didn't swear; he merely got up
and remarked, coolly: "I think I've
dwelt on that point long enough."
Harper's Itzar..
ecience at SEh'ool.
The following comes fromt ~n Aus
ralian school magazine. "If wE
break a magnet in halves each piece
ecomes a magnet. If we break each
piece in halves eacht of .the smalle:
pieces becomes a magnet,1 until we
ome to something which. we cannot
plit p. Each of these pieces which
cannot be split up fuether is called a