University of South Carolina Libraries
. ARIZOM AS ? H^f KESORT. " . - I,,-' Consumptive* by T*nt??H^M? tt?l>W?? Itself-Those who Brm?^tfc? Midsum oer Heat are SaidtoDerfr* the Great? est Benefit? \ V ^l/ The extreme :aridir^pi^^ ..ias cai^'-^^?ownfag^^^y5:?- w??? la?df agricnlttiraV , sun-kissed Territc^t^t??^^sr;:0n?\C>f ifs great m?rits -?s^^?t??M^sbrt, <says : . . the New York?-SOU^?^^^: - - Ir is a generally accepted' theory nowa? days-that Si^&Jik^k^^^^^^ "he : stamped out only hyi?he^^s^^?n; of > Its victims and an ahsol?^^?t^dfrd?or -.life for them. The first, co^^^m??ifes?y ? impossible in the crpw?^^ft^31^0 Va? second is feasible^ onX^^^W^&a?rT^i^? tore is most -.h?ne.SC?^|^i^^^?>-?^?. never goes into, ^?a^^^jf^^^^.-'^ time, where the-^re?z^^;i.ot too danton iind; where the-:^h? ^^^^^^^^.t^? \ from, vapors -as -the1 .'d?^^:f?#*-'*;: '-V'^ J?llv?hese conditions ?fo^^g;^>lute; cure orthe/aniei^ b? ^ particularly --i^l^^^g^^^^y??eh.: V ., Jfcriz:; . Within its" area??^^^,v??cres; ?S nnSgation ia app^ desert where li e ?ielief ?<>i}..?&<$n?n^^ sons-and there are. but"tw^-four months of summer" and the "Test o^fthejy?ar-a per V ' Xpfciual sprin^^'??S^^^^^a^^|E3ie' . skies are a cloo??essiiblfca^^ ;.-. tiat . it <^fc almost'^ a vera ge to /eeivab?e? -toi'the .sweltern^^^?n^>;?f^he \v.c???t ^dv^??x^on|^^^^^^ \ ? ' For X>ec?mber; ?xi^^0^^^?i^?i?^s^ hird- warbles ??^?.^a1^^^^%^^^ lum to his^bibwa':^miil?^^^^e^cqttptt?: yt?od&i-iheXtv?l ,0rcneSti?|!^^ blackbirds follows : ;tSe|^??d^atp^$sabfe p?^eCentbr: wtov^ts; ^ andv^coBtfets^ /. : cfcuir^rp^ ^^^^-'^ *sn?a??b^ Ir*?ian/pp^ -. nies, are the order of the^d?y I ; In Febru .ary"-fh?.J^tlmb^;'o V desert's northern:^dge^St^^^?o^^na?; ^ of - pink white bloom^fl^^^igrj?^?s' ... -:^ar??hud!&?^ "l^ves^send; ^ .around." " '. ? ^ -the ^ ab^erong/in^ ^i^p^e^er^^ ^ . days and- of ten .'_ st?rr^^?a^ . ; -throughout vthe cold.': Th?re^;was'^ ?^hen:'?ce- "foruaed? ^.^?^^^^&??k^pii ?r -i. ibV^^.; and ^nV^sj^^IJ?^s^.ti^^ . ; mght/c?e^ . welcome. ; ^Blankets/ s?^^^^^i^^ii^ / winter.: :Ye? ; wi?h .^?I^pi^?^^^r^^si?CL . . gordal spring.;again?????ts^?^f?lse^^?Th?s-:' -/^difference pf ; tempe^^ and to - "perfect climatic eon?itipDs; ^ForewT^ed,:: :* ^weveii-is. for^rm?^js^l; w^^plenty-:of ; bedding;^ o jte-n?-dangeri.pf ^taJs?^?^^^^-^- \ It is. a KstKtaae tjt?ng^abbtrt this" desert nTe; that.it^ - acpjsai?tashc^^ - t?rpe ?-t? ' nappy >els^^ Tbereiieed be" np .r^ese^^Sionii ab^t tiiat I statenk^nt:>^or!!^da^s^??^^?^?^^^ * - mpnt?t?rjfrxjgfe^^ - gree; ^v?^?de abs^ce^ of^i?mi?d^?ms^ . ?^sier^-to^bea^'than .vitalised: ?^;^ ; 'There 'were ^?o/^sunisS?^ trati?ns., Kanchers;went?a^ . suffermg npvt? /' ?> ;.-; ri?^bugh. the; m^^ turni their-f^ e?U?Cfe^orjr^/o? and-feuMtm. ate. s^ l benefit at /this seasp^ , s^ms^ to heal the the germs. Sufferers:-frpn^S^ey."^ y or ^heuinatJsnX; also l'wis^. i?i?r. greatest . * '; gain in summer. ' ^~ ^. i 1 : While neariy everyjiran^^in^he stands readyi.?OT' tts doors - to the . tnjaa?d^^e'bdst' results . ; are- to^b? 'attamed |frbn^ desert itself.; Tne^^^ gated at stated':1^ry?^'^?^r?^?rU^ no ;-. . mantis land, is. drynessi^fise?^ '?>:> ;iV ., Although the camper, assured>o? squat? ter sovereignty,^.'ns?T;seit?ii?'"b^;c^v^- es? tablishment where h?w^^ftt?k, qeustion of a wnvenient waferi^tup select a site near , a ranch? ?: quarter , wiil pay fpr .?^arrelfnl:-p^;iii^b;,iwM?r;>au?ed/ each: week.on ??stone bp^^rrpm the irri? gation ditch, whSe "tw.olb?iiir^^ : ^the rsw?x?ging olia, or ^eilca?u.w?ter jar, ; ; -filled, and provide waterier fessing, from ^ome adjacent.rwelL ?-^Otfie?^^'ppHes^i?Te also" readily' obtained^ .^T^e^ndlans bring to from the reservation^^ of mesquite and iron wood^^??ch, they retail for SI 75 or" 52 .a-jlpad^i^e?vthe. same amount will buy dry a2a^di?fig:au apri? cot "wood from the orcha^s^ which have ^ died for lack of wateri;-;^E^gbt&g.p^ are ajso popular; an?^?t?i ^yho- will can gather for .himself the. Sotsani/and jetsam, of the desert . -' ^^ .',-- ^' ' 'Fruits may '?^fo?^bc?^'^^'t?ie orange groves and adjacent orcbicrds-at. a. reason? able price and ofT delici?^ <?ual?ty. ' The roll-call of native fnn^?icludes oranges, grape frjut,' ?l^on^/c^^cp^ ~ peaches, pears, pomegranates, " figs^ Tgrapes, neeta-, rines, phims, berries and? melons galore. Kwh Jersey milk may be>obtained at itiej ranches for five cents a^?pia^-buttejr for twenty-five cents a. pound, V honey-^-deli ctous as the famed honey of-.Hymettis fifteen cents a pound. Tee,. artificial, can be obtained at any of the; towns at sixty cents, a hundred. The markets of 'Phoenix - "supply the-best 'b?tf?^^'^tto?^'inxt2?e~ world at live and let-Hve^ri^es.. Groceries-, are high, owing to the flight rates, but the stores would be a csedit to; ahy city of New York State outsidp the metropolis. An accurate asecount of??iv?ng expenses kepr during the last yea^jtorva;. family of three adults and a child?^owe4 an aver? age of $40 a month for dable expenses, $5 for water, service and {Sundry; oil and repairs, $2 35, and fuel, 53^0. \. Wh?e the table expensesHseem dispropor? tionately high, it must^je borne in mind that hyper-feeding and t?e? generous provi? sion of the most nouris?ng meats and foods are a large factor nt tfce recovery of . the consumptive. For thexp?rson addicted to the use of ham, bacon?and canned goods the outlay would be matei?ally:diminished. Tents may be rented'foKfrom $3 to $7. a month, according, to. farnishing-but the majority of campers prefer to own their canvas homes. TheseV?ah be bought in any of the larger towns,' new or second? hand. They are all putt?hwiith siding and board floors, and are usoaSQy screened from the intrusive fly-and afeo furnished with a fly or second cover. 'She^stage settings and furnishings may beKias luxurious or as simple as individual tastefand the pocket? book demand. A stove, two or three chairs, a dresser or makeshift-T^and one learns to be an expert in the maleer of-makeshifts on the desert or frontier-a. bowl, pitcher and pail of tin, agate or^paper-these are the necessaries. X.uxuri<jp;3n. the way of . rugs, hammocks, book s^elv^s and pillows, pillows, pillows may be added ad Iib. When light housekeeping is-.?an?ed on-and this is the general scheme-choking utensils, dishes, a screen cupboard" and an icebox must be added to the list A horse and some sori-pf cart or wagon are esteemed essenttat-j^rts pf onevs out J* fit;: Nor is this.an extravagance, for norse-. . flesh and pasturage are "both cheap, and the --whiA^^^e^xm^t '- usually be' sold: at cost when there is no longer ne? cessity for their use; %?L good solid- m??h .tainvpony which was. a delight under the saddle and a faanily friend in front of the t^^S'eate? "Democrat," with . harness,: ;:Wbip and aH'. complete, cost the writer ia trifle less -than $50 and was sold at the end - of the year for %X?. Pasturage on an ad? ' jacent ranch cost $150 during the winter, $fc in the summer. ::' .~NeitherN barns nor sheds-are a necessity fdr the h*orse,: but a: brush shed br Indian ? fvrataw is an all-important adjunct to XtSie -tents if one would be comfortable. Urid?r j its kindly shade the hammock is swung,-. r?he -table set, the water jar hung, nearly all the operations of daily living carried oh. These vataws are copied af ter the In? dians'. They -are made - of stout cottonwood poles, covered with brush and leaves.held Sin- place by the all-pervasive baaing wire, which, plays suca a oeneficent part in. all the. ^rations and vicissitudes of Arizona riife. P^Sbte. Question is often; asked: Is not the desert life monotonous? To this the answer, is:-That depends. To one who loves the '^procession of rthe-seasons, the rugged, /mountains, the purple 'buttes, the bending sky and the all-pervading sense of infinite .freedom, a life so near to nature is fraught .with tremendous benefit, spiritual and mar terial. ^Forthe rider of hobbies-and a hobby is a good thing to, take an invalid's mind off : ?hjs.Ills-thereis an endless variety of sub? jects.; The myriad mounds left hy the pre-, historic peoples invite to archaeological re? search, with the certainty- of finds of ihe old Aztec pottery-if nothing more. For the -botanist, geologist, mineralogist, ornitholo^ f gist and entomologist there is material rich : and-i'rarej For the ethnologist there - ax* ; ?the. indians and Mexicans, to Say nothing \ foi" stray representatives of every .nation ::thatv?n the ear?b doth dwell! i^For the artist and the. photographer there' Saxeskies and lights and shadows;.^dVsub ;^ects to be. found nowhere else. ' For the-: -Sportsman- -there is small game a plenty--; ?End .for the one who simply wants toniest .land let the world gp by-a peace unspeak? able. . ' ."It . goes without ; saying: 7 that ; no. one ; ^ould take up-the desertlife if in a^'phy :^<^;: condition that. demands the attend ;?ice"vOf a doctor, or a hurry can upon the y&ug^isl For such ; the town. Neither ?^^^one^co^^iher'': without " money, S?iihking .he can soon earn a living. There \is. .no light "work for invalids. Grown-: 'strong or at .least familiar with the "lay-, bf ihe.land, --there .are various occupations thatmay he taken up. *f one .can command .^?icapitaL. Ch?cken:raisingr"bee , culture? .vegetable and alfalfa growing-melon, rais ::ing "or a. stock farm-will each furnish sa ?'gbod. living. : - v . .'. : ^.This, nowever,, comes later-and theres ; must he means to live on in the interim. I4lflp?sslble, ;eyery invalid, should have5 ^s&me memberof -his own "family with/him;. While scores of . men "and occasionally ., ag woman come alone, ;.the chances of recbv ery are much greater when there is no ^ dangerof homesickness. All these condi .-t?bns -met with, a two-years' residenoMn; .-tents on- the desert has .demonstrated the' .fact; tha?/ahnost without exception there is marked gain and often complete cure. ;In cases : in which the cure'has been begun in time. many. haye, been able: to return to their homes .?entirely-well.. .Others,. appa -xet?tly recovered, have, deemed it wiser to ] rcatst 1&enr fortunes with the Territory, and "J?av? .given ' permanent setting to their, lares and penates. . Three only,.out of one i.colbny ot:bne hundred who had come for,.; : their , health, returned home to die. / With this showing the. desert tent, life- for con -sumptives. seems to need no further com inaendation; to prove its efficacy. (?I;, A.. JJJ7CKY -J&QOKA G-BNT. He Meets with a W arm Reception as the j Be?nlt of Mistaken Identity. ; There is a farmer living just north of . Evanston and a book figent somewhere in , the cosmopolitan desert of Chicago, each of whom feels that he is the victim of a cruel Circumstance, says the Chicago Chronicle. . 7 >l?astvweek the; farmer had a note.fr?m 'a nephew to .say that che -boy would visit . . the-farm on Thursday. Uncle and nephew had not met for fifteen years, and' the, old man drove to the station in .'his most comfortable.^ coat, .-that he might welcome his1 sister's jonly child. But the young man failed to come. After wait? ing .until the..: last passenger had disap? peared the old man drove away, disap? pointed. . The book agent entered into the drama-. [tis- personae early the next-morning. Looking over the top .rail of the barn? yard gate he called, "Hello, uncle." - 'The book agent never got such a recep-. . tion^ b?&re in all his life. The farmer flung the gate wide open, seized the 'agent's hand, and pressed a whiskered kiss on the ironclad cheek., : : :"Say, this must be Heaven," murmured. ; the agent, folio wing the farmer into-the house and explaining that everybody at home was'as hwell as could be ex? pected. Not tlU the agent was full of ;a boneda dinner and .attempting to sell -a book did the farmer . began to see a dim light. - Charged with impersonating : the missing nephew, the agent explained, j that he greeted all, - elderly strangers- as, - .**uncle;" that he even':had a few almost real' ones in - South Clark street in Chicago. . When last seen by the farmer the agent! . was still running, and when the real nephew does come he may find an electric current in the latch-string. \ , WH EA T IN KANS A Si Thousands of ^nshel? Piled on the Open ' -^Sod WaitibSr for Transportation. For the first time in its history, says XesSe's-Weekly, Kansas has more wheat than it knows what to do with. Not only, /axe, the granaries and bins running over with grain, but the elevators are filled and the farmers are still bringing it to markefc by hundreds of thousands of bushels. The tong dry weather was, in a sense, a bonanza for wheat raisers. Much of .the grain was so heavy that it fell to 'the ground and would have been lost bad there been wet weather. But with the long " hot; Clear days every straw could be gathered, most of (the farmers running the, ; threshing machines into the field and haul? ing the grain from the shocks to the ma? chine. The grain has all been of the best , quality and the yield from twenty to thirty-five bushels per acre. Not less than 80,000,000 -bushels will be gathered, and the ' 1 high price is giving the farmers a fine in? come. As the strings of wagons came to mar? ket in 'the wheat belt the railroads' were swamped. They could not furnish cars i and the elevators were soon filled to over? flowing. Even in the small stations twenty . to thirty teams were waiting to be un? loaded all day through the latter part of the threshing. The buyers finally began piling the grain on the prarie. Great heaps of 30,000 to 50.000 bushels have been stored '. on the open sod and there they will remain ! until such time as cars can be secured in which to ship the grain. The sun does not '. hurt it, no one can steal it and so little ? rain falls during the summer that there ? 3s practically no danger from that source. Some enterprising buyers have secured ' circus tents and placed them over the piles, making curious features of ' the prairie ' landscape. , The Boston Transcript (Rep) points out i that the demand for the ship subsidy j scheme does not proceed from the alleged beneficiaries theory. "Subsidy or no sub- , sidy, the ship building interests of the \ country do not appear to be in a languish- j ing condition," remarks the Transcript, i "The law of supply and demand does not i cease its operations to await legislation, j and just now the ship builders do not seem ] to be worrying much about the future." j The real benefits would be confined to a i limited clique, which, with the assistance i of the politicians, are making all the de- < maud. ' j i STYL?S M MEN'S DRESS, . --y .?_ FASHIONS THAT WILL BE FOPl 'LAE THIS FALL AND WISTES. Sombre Color? ns:? and Neat Effects-Da and Evening Skirt?-Wrinkles in Col lars-Very Few Chan??? from Lat ; Tear. (Prom the Haberdasher.) The coraing1 autumn and winter seaso ?frill differ hui" little in the sartorial sens from- that of'last year. The changes ha\ been very few, and in the main represer ;sbmel slight modification , of or departui from, standards that have "become ver ; familiar. M?n's dress is bein?: held dow to very conventional lines. The run < ?color that- was the distinguishing featui "of"last~year ls .to be curtailed and cole iwill not be prominent in anything; tha man wears. Sombre tones in overcoating and suitings and -very neat color effects i cravatings and shirtings will form th most prominent and distinguishing featui in the mode^df .the coming season. |pXhave.?observed in.looking over the nei goods for autumn that all that is calle new, , paradoxical though, it may seem, i really old. This, is the modern tendency i all-things related even in the slightest de degree to art. -The painters are drawin on the old schools for inspirations, design -ers are: revelling in the aft of the sever :teenth century/house decorators are copy lng old interiors 'and furniture and the ai .cM.teets are^rawing inspirations from th Greek and Roman ' schools. In dress w are modifying or. changing fashions tha haye' been in vogue, before. The culross &he wing collar,; the skirted greatcoats an : tieVnew- riarfow^tip shoes are mere revi vals of old-time, favorites. ? - ".' ?_ STYLES IN SHIRTS. -?In .shirts-1 ; look for very few change and^'racticalljr'no innovations: For dres ?the -plainlinen;bosom shirt, with ;sligh?: rbuhdedlor square link cuffs attached, wil berthe" best form. The bosoms-will be a wide^as the: chest of . the wearer admits The-, stitching- will be of moderate width Some; of - tie dress shirte ^ill - have ver: fin? ribbed' pique bosoms, but I do no tliii^ be as generali: : accepted" as-^th?t plain bosom. There wil ?^^t?M^-:.'sfod'v?ples- in- the bosoms, tm of rwhich ^l'.show in .the waistcoat open nig;; The.shiri^i?r wear with the evening 'jacket iwiir be the same as-that worn wit! -the WaUowtail-ooat.? Some shirt maker show a fine-pleated shirt for wear with thi jacket, and no doubt.it will be quite pop ?ulat; ;With^tne^unger ; set. The colorei shirts f of 7 day : wear show, , witii plaii besoms. and i the patterns are . noticeably '.hea? Jl$ie"figures are printed on made plans or"on satin broches or percales. Th< former- fabrics ; are, given more. attentioi in ?ihe finer shops than, percales are. Th< figures arev neat geometricals in black dark bluevjreds or lavender; stripes ar? alsb:v displayed. They are narrow ant widely 'spaced. ^Pleated colored shirts will figure quit< prommentlyfdr?wear with business 1 suits The plain neglige with a centre pleat abc made of madras br of fine flannels wil also be.;worn. 'The-flannels are d?sign?e for neglige and come In - rather neal stripes. ? COLLARS AND CRAVATS. In collars the three new styles'.are the -wing, poke and straight stander. Thes? are iri:J>oth; wideband narrow stitching. The "wid?"st?tched"wtng collar is not as'sightly as that with .narrow stitching, owing tc the liability/of the edg?i where the wing bends, to swell and. gap. The wing collars have .well .balanced, moderate spaced ;wingsV the bottom of the wings forming a straight line.-' V .In crav'ats.v?l? o?.the forms are large. The culrosses -will be very broad and soft, the ascots .wide of end and free of lining. The' best fbur-hvhand will have a wide end'and'be. graduated to, a two-inch width at. the knot . Ties, if sold at all, will be of. the. bab>wihg>shape. For evening wear there is a 'new tie. It is .cut perfectly straight - and - bas square ends. It is of uniform - width . throughout. Wien tled.it shows a square,; flat .centrepiece and the en?si stand out .straight and come to the edge of the shirt bosom.. . - In clothes'i I find indications which point to the' usual "fight of .the tailors to force new fashions.. In the , first place, ' we will have the annual, cry for color, in evening dress and for .the freedom from blacks arid whites ul day dress. All of this I. do not think will amount to much. The best tailors are making trousers rather wide, but avoiding, the peg-top form. The trous? ers are "about seventeen?,.--and one-half inches at the knee and &?teen and one half: at. the .bottoms.- They will hang per? fectly ,strjdght from the hips. For even? ing dress ;the white waistcoat will be" given a very prominent place. ' These will be made both single and double-breasted and will .have ^buttons covered with the mate? rial of which/; the waistcoat is made. In evening dress coats there will be no change worth recording. That garment is a staple" fixture-and it seems impossible to improve' upon the existing standard. The fr?ck coat will be. practically?- the same as last y?af.'.. The e-*ening Jacket will not be made at all by smart tailors. It Is now a ready made,' ".Cheap John" article, and may be banished entirely from the. wardrobe of a gentleman.: A. new coat something like the evening jacket will be made. It will have a breast -arid side pockets and silk-faced shawl collar and will close with two but? tons. These coats are designed for home and club wear and are worn with single-, breasted waistcoats and trousers of the same material, white shirts, black ties and either lace or button shoes. They're just handy dress coats to wear down to dinner or to hang around the house or club In. NOVELTIES IN DRESS. One of the best tailors on the avenue will introduce several novelties this com? ing, autumn. One of these is an evening suit made of dark gr?y cloth. The collar is of the shawl pattern, faced with gray silk. The trousers and waistcoat are made of the. same material as the coat. The suits are designed for wear at stag affairs,1 about hotels and clubs and for the theatre when women are not to be in the party. Another new idea is a house suit. It will bc made of a heavy rep sifk and lined with silk. The colors are very brilliant. The trousers are made like pajama trous? ers and fasten about the waist with a broad bit of ribbon, with large silk tassels at the ends. The coat is cut double-breast? ed and has large pockets. The suit may be worn with a silk shirt. It Is just for wear In one's room. In overcoats the long Chesterfields and the skirted coats will be very popular. The skirted coat will be worn in the evening as well as during the day. These are cut like the "Paddock" and have well flared skirts. The "Raglan" will only be in rain? proofs and in coverts. The covert coat will be very popular. It will be cut full and quite short. Sack suits will be made on lines that, R'hile conforming to the lines of the body, io not .accentuate them. The military iacket is passe. The new jackets will be loose and will have perfectly straight backs. In shoes the principal departure is in the ?hape of the toe. The latest model snows :he flat last with the outswung sole, but the tip is brought in to a much narrower point than last year's model. Low shoes Rill be worrrdurins; the autumn and on pleasant days during the winter, but many ook upon the low shoe as a mere winter "ad. The patent leather shoes with kid :ops will be the formal footwear. Shoes alli be very plain for dress, and quite ?laborately trimmed for neglige and busl iess wear.. O UK TM CH if IC AL SCHOOLS.' They Furnish'"-"the Best Bridge Bxti?d Tool Malt er* an rt ita ll way Construe io the World-European Methods li been Adapted Bather than Adopted. (From, the Brooklyn Eagle.) Merchants and statesmen to-day > grat?late themselves upon the wonde spread of this country's commerce, greatest any nation has ever seen. . they do not, perhaps, realize that the tion has advanced in another w?y^tha possibly the true core.'o'ilour, national ; cess. This is the extraordinary; ?dy? in scientific learning,' as shown in universities, prof?ssiona?; and techn schools ;and in everyday-life.- It) this TJ moulding of America" in'to' a' scientific tion does not fully account -for the c mercial victories, it has at jail' events' < tributed lamely t? ffient* """"" " """ So pronounced has been the develops of these universities and schools that : at the beginning of :the -century they : pass those of Europe. And yet s?rpas is by no means the ' right ;word. ..Ther no institution in Europe' resembling tl or organized on Quite the 'same plan. ' scientific school of; America in Its gr of what really constitutes practical, exi sive .training has ; no counterpart Kjtnr world. It turns out'scientists, that ari the same time ' wc-rkmen of the -'. higi type. The universities ; ' and t?chn schools , of England and the Continent, cellent-as many of {them, are, have "not : ly caught the spirit and-trend bf tie ti: The tree of the viiew ; American scient education is being known-by- its fruit, has brought a new- sort, ?pf workman i the field- of labdr; ;andiEuropean ind try ,stands by, wondering why lier: ref sentatives cannot do .as well. The explanation -"of. it js all;veryr .simj however. American. technical educ?t had- its .first beginning: fifty years a Within, the past twenty-five years ;th? ? entific professionaIvschbols: have been s : lng -their true development.' Now t??*-cc bined .results have- become, so. great tl they are .apparent ail?over. the. world ; "The ; earliest . technical.. schools;'*;-, wr Prof Mendenhali,'^re^?nt of the Te? riorogicatlnstitut?? of Worcester, Mass, his . monograph on : "Scientific,. Techni and Engineering Education m. the XInii States," prepared for theTecent Paris I position, /'thosei^ for more,-'almost wi?hout, exception; gr rout of the; industrial. demands of the loc ity in' which they -were founded. One the best examples', is the f ?m??sTSchpol ?Mines, at "Freiberg,.- which hasr enjoyed flpng- and illustrious- c?reer,. and many the earlier ?iu-opean schools;Tielong to t 'same class. "To t&es?-and-theMinore mc ??ern schools of science and technology t y??ited States'-ar? greatly indebted, esi ?ci?lly on account of - the generous w <come that has' always ,;.bee?^'.extended .Am?ricah studentsiand/for tbein^pirati Swith. which many' pf j th?in. haVe. return to. take their partthe wonderih? educ tional evolution which the last;-half ce itury has witnessed. c^ "But in all cases^European methods ha been adapted rather''th?n;adopted; * * >nd while the-?earlylW. schools of- seien and engmeering-sea^ereclvoyer- the; Unit States have -many points pf resemblam fthere, is much" individuality,' part?cu?ai -{among th? strong?st;im'd^ fc lieved, that :their' several types 'represe important advances ;in the: direction, scientific and: techn-ie?l-education.": This matter of; sclen?fic-Training f youth, makes -but- a conservative, qui claim, though yet^'substantial. one: I might have pointed to"some ?f tne resul of these fbellev??? ta -he .'important a vanees.'-- Amerlcan^technlcal school gra uates have come ftp be' the- bridge nuilde of the world. - There are-no steel maker no tool makers in; Europe equar t? tl pool, keen youngr-scientists in ; America shops and ' mflls; r iNor has tVe. Contine: and Englands such- a rac? of - r^lway coi ?truction engineers.* ' Only .this summer tl Massachusetts Institute - of iTechnolog held examinatiohs^irt Bondon.fpr the-your Englishmen of'scientific. tastes,/ who,. . 1 learn what they- wanted to- fit ' th?m f< the scientific world/found their only r< ; course an American/ schobL-; . Andy In ti field of,medicine, fpur;distingnished, phys ciahs and surgeons', of this country ai now touring the world; at the'.request c foreign doctors who - are anxious to lear accurately of. the/adyances of this branc of the science in the New World. -Out of many -significant''instances', thes have been pickedj ?Tne numbfer might b greatly added-to^with. - only-the advantag of emphasizing the. point. That .which ha the most pronounced is; however, the tun? ing of the tide. Thirty years ago, and eve well ohto very recent years; the America: student ?of any kind of science found it ; part , of his education to go to the school abroad for as long a period as his pocket book could stand.**' His* education was. no thought completeytill1 then. c A\nd it wa not, -for scientific-training inthis countr was not formed. -Now the student has m need to go. As he takes, his degree he 1 far beyond what the school's- Pf; Europ< teach. And >-ear following year, in in creasing numbers, _young Europeans ar< coming over here" to grasp,; the traininj that our 'universities are giving and t< absorb the technique .and the thorough practicalness that ; are- making America! scientists masters Cf men. "Adapted" wasythe word Prof Menden? hall used in speaking of .European meth? ods and the American universit?s, "rathei than adopted." . But it has been very muci more than that Brushing traditions aside these institutions .of learning went long ago to the root pf the matter. Tear by year they have been building. up their equipment, strengthening their courses. Questions of finance and whether it would all pay they have politely laughed at. Money was needed for this and for that. Well, the chiefs would see that L was ob? tained. Machinery was necessary. At once the great manufacturers were laid .under contribution,- and they sent as gifts machines worth thousands. The technical sctibol, - presidents knew how to arouse - the sympathetic under? standing of men Pf means and fore? thought. Benefactors for this and for that crowded in, their gifts were chronicled in the news of the day, commented upon as vast, the figures added up and admired. But no one saw the significance. Year after year students came out of courses of engineering, of medicine and surgery, of chemistry, pf electricity, of marine engineering, of agriculture and forestry and went into workaday life. Hitherto the scientific' college man had not been held in very high regard. Manu? facturers had wanted men who had grown up In shops, "practical" they called them, no "book learning fellows, who ?were all theory and clean clothes and hands." But even the most old fashioned soon came to appreciate that these "fellows," too, came from "shops," "shops" in the colleges that had a wider variety of machinery in act? ual use than could ever be found in a single factory. They grew to see that the new "theory man" was broader, of more intelligence, willing to learn about a case in point and able to grasp ic more quickly. They devised economies and improvement whenever they were given a chance. They could make one man do the work of two. The old time foreman was a child before them. Then, one after another, the far seeing manufacturers chuckled. They had bridged .the gulf between capital and labor and found real master workmen. They gave these men more swing and power and kept on the lookout for more youths from the technical schools. They came to see that the product from these institu? tions was getting better every year. Thc' technical schools and universities had won their point. They realized the growing demand for their men. They Ve" doubled their efforts, added to their courses, consulted with the greatest and ' the most progressive manufacturers as to what, their needs, were and built up more: perfectly their equipment.. Not alone did they reach out for machinery, but the newest and the best. They had at last created a new market for m?n. If a concrete, striking instance is wanted of this, Sibley College or Cornell . Universi? ty m;ay be taken. That institution has a very famous railroad course. The "orders" that come to the college each spring for graduates are. greater than Sibley can possibly supply. 'She cannot turn out enough men to meet the demand- Twice, as many as she graduates each year cb^ld be assured of positions. For the railroads I say simply: "These are the men we';w?st; they are the men that will rise with .us or with some other company. We can? not now get too many of them." And so the demand is spreading out in j many another branch cf science." _The American technical schools are' turning out the product. It is these men that in later years do the inventing- and the great pieces of executive: work' and make the discoveries. Is it any wonder that the youth of England and the Continent are commencing to come to this country for technical training? THE HERMIT OF CAFE MALEA. Why lie Lived and Died on a Stupendous j Cliff, Within Sight and Sound of the I Ocean. ; I There is one feature of Cape Malea that rarely fails to attract the notice- of the j most careless voyager doubling, it by day, a touch of human tragedy and pathos, belonging in point of chronology to our own time, but in universal inter? est to all ages. At the extreme pitch of the cape a stupendous cliff rises. sheer, from 'the fretting, waves for about a hun? dred feet Then - comes an irregular plateau or shelf, of perhaps two. acres in area, the mountain rising again abruptly behind it to a height of about i 2,000 feet. This plateau is apparently in I-accessible, and yet, perched upon, a huge I bowlder in its centre, a mass of rock de? tached from the mountain ages ago, is a house. It is. rudely built of . wooden fragments ingeniously fitted together, , but its outlines, convey at once the idea of its designer: having .been an Anglo Saxon. It must .be firmly built, too, fdr Lit is" exposed to the f?ll fury of wind,re . bounding from the mountain face, and -the observer instinctively wonders ; why, if a house, must be built on that shelf, so terribly exposed a position was se? lected. Then if he be fortunate- he will hear its story, says E. T. Bullen,-.in the London. Spectator. WB??K??^^-'^' About twenty-five years ago there was a young sailor who, by dint of hard, work, integrity of'character and firmness of will, reached at. the age of .2$ the: summit ' of his ambition-becoming master of what would then be called a igood-siied. steam? ship, some 900 tons register. Upon this accession to good fortune he married, the girl of his choice, who had patiently, waited for him since as boy.. and" girl -sweethearts they parted on his first going to sea. And with rare complacency. his. owners gave him the inestimable privilege' of carrying his young bride to sea with: him. Pow happy he was! How deep ands all embracing his pride, as, steaming down the grimy Thames? he explained to the light of his eyes . all the. wonders; that she was now witnessing for the first time, but which he had made familiar to her mind "by his oft-repeated sea stories during the few bright days -,. between'"' voyages that he. had been able to '? devote to courtship! The ship was hound ito> several Mediterranean ports, the time, be? ing late autumn, and" consequently the most ideal -.season for a.honymoon" that could possibly be imagined. Cadiz,"-Genoa, Naples,^ Venice, a delightful tour, with not one weary moment wherein to . wish : for something else! Even a flying, "visit to old ?tome from Naples had been'.possibl?; for . the. two officers, rejoicing in their ? happy- young- skipper's joy, saw to it that no unnecessary cares should trouble him,* and bore willing testimony, in order , that he should get as much delight out of those halcyon days as possible, that the. entire crew were as docile as. could be wished, devoted to their bright command- 1 er and his beautiful wife. Then at Venice came orders to proceed to Galatz and load wheat. for '.. home. Great was: the glee of the girl-wife. She would see Constantinople and the Dan- : ube. Life would'hardly be long enough to recount all the wonders of this most wonderful of wedding trips. And they sailed, with hearts overbrimming with joy as the blue sky above them- seemed welling over with sunlight. Wind and weather favored them; nothing occurred to cast a shadow over their happiness until, nearing Cape Malea at 'that fatal hour of the morning, just before dawn? - when more collisions occur than at ?any other time, they were run into by a blundering ' Greek steamer coming- the other way, and cut down amidships to. the water's edge. To their peaceful sleep or quiet appreciation of the night's sil? vern-splendors succeeded the overwhelm? ing . flood,' the hiss and roar of escaping steam, the suffocating.embrace of death; Tn that . dread fight for life. all perished but one-he so lately the happiest, of men-the skipper. Instinctively, clinging to a piece of wreckage, he - had been washed ashore under Ca^ - Malea at the ebbing of the scanty tide, ? id his strong physique, reasserting ?ts?"?f, enabled him to climb those rugged battlements' and reach the plateau. Here * 9 .^as found gazing seaward by some go?-.:-eru-, who, in search of their nimble-fc. rZ flocks? had wandered down the precipita "s side of the mountain. They endeavored to persuade him to come with them back to the world, but in vain. He would iive, gratefully accepting some of their poor provision, but from that watching place he would not go. And those rude peas? ants, understanding' something of his woe, sympathized with him so deeply that without payment or hope of any they helped him to build his hut and kept him supplied with such -poor mor? sels of food and drink as sufficed for his stunted needs. And there, with his gaze fixed during all his waking hours upon that inscru? table depth wherein all his bright hopes had suddenly been quenched, he lived untii quite recent years, ".the world for? getting, by the'world forgot,"- a living monument of constancy and patient, un? complaining grief. By his humble friends, whose language he never learned, he was regarded as a saint, and when one day they came upon his lifeless body,' fallen forward upon its knees at a little glazed window through which he was wont to look upon the sea where his dear one lay, they felt confirmed in their opinion of the sanctity of the hermit of Cape Malea. LINCOLN'S BIRTHPLACE To be Utilized as nn Asylum for Inebriates.. Down in the Blue Grass region of Ken? tucky, on the same farm where Abraham Lincoln was 'born and spent his boyhood' days, says the ^Chicago Tribune, the St Luke's Society, of Chicago, is to estab? lish a home for the inebriates of -the South. A large hotel, small cottages and com? modious dwellings will be erected by the soci?ty, and, though the land is in the South, the negro will be made as welcome as the white. The Lincoln farm is in the town of Hodgenville, fifty miles south of Louis? ville, and consists of 110 acres of pasture land. On lt is a spring of mineral water, the fame of whSch is great below the Mason and Dixon line. It was owned by some prominent Methodists of ?the South, among them the Rev J. W. Bingham. Some time ago its owners decided to do? nate its use to charity, and they chose the St Luke's Society as the organization best su3ted to carry out their plans. The farm will be turned into a sanita? rium, planned much after that now run by the society at Nbs 1.710 to 1.71S Indiana avenue. On it will 'be taken only those who are addicted ro drugs, liquors or tobacco. The ireatmenit is to be similar to that given at the Chicago Hospital. While the officers of the society are busv trying to get the Lincoln farm in shape, they are also at work establishing a branch within the 'Cook County jail. There prison? ers known to be victims of the drug, li? quor or tobacco habit are given over to Dr Miller and his assistant. Dr La Grange. The latter devotes all his time to them and lives in the same quarters with them. 1 'TSE'HEART OF MONTEOSE BEQUEATHED BY THE MAB QUJS HTS NIECE, LADT NAP J EB, Gruesome Belie of a Valiant Scott Hero and how it wa* Mysteriously Lo Little Hope of the Ultimate "Recover the Relic, bat After the Laps? of ( Hundred Tear? the Heart or the Grab Slay Once Again Rent on Scottish Sot -^(From Chambers's Journal.) . Alas "?that no one knows where somewhere, certainly-the heart of vali James Graham, Marquis of Montr< awaits the collector of curiosities! Tos among bits of armor, old china, bric brae, in some old curiosity shop in north of France; possibly now carried Paris or London, it may lie in some lady's lamber attic; or, trampled years : into the aground of a back garden in B logue, Pierre and little Marie ^may tun up any day with their spades. "Qu'es* que- c'est donc," this little old, beal egg-shaped box of steel? Why, Pierre : Marie, it holds, if you only knew, it, dust of a Scottish hero's heart, and , case itself was fashioned out of his g< steel sword. Montrose knew MerehistonCastle, Ec burgh,-well; it was, in fact, a second he to. him in his boyhood, for his sister M garet-had married Sir Archibald Naj when .Montrose was 6 c > 7 years-old, ? he spent much of his ti?ie with-them; "3 Napiers had, besides, ? town mains within the precincts of Ho?yrood -H?? but to little Montrose, brought up.i?v country, the old castle, with its barns s out houses and granges, was. no doub more attractive holiday home than, a.'d town house in the fashionable Cannbnga One can. fancy the little figure, in clothes of "green camlet" or "mixed p gone" and "cloak with pasmcnts," w< dering- with his bow and arrows about.1 'parks, or, maybe, escaped.from his wat< fui''pe?agog," Master William F?rr? imperiling-himself, boy like, on the batt meats of the castle. H09 I -But to get to the story of the'heart c must*.leave- the- life and hasten to 1 ^eath of Montrose. Hos sister and bro er-to-law "had ' died long . before, 'and -.t owner .of Merehiston in 1650 was/Mp: rosers-nephew, the second Lord Napier, great affection existed between Montre and his niece by marriage, .Lady Nap* and as a mark of it he bequeathed to i his heart-a strange, and, if one .must t Jthe. truth, an embarrassing, legacy; I looked "upon by the lady herself as a < preme honor and a sacred trust ^?M?t?tr?se . was executed at the Marl Cross of Edinburgh on Tuesday, May. 1650i .The. extraordinaiy; composure .4 gallantry of his bearing are well atteste An unsigned letter-in the British; Museu written by. a spectator while the executi was. actually going <>n, sayst "I never si a more sweeter carriage to a man In ; my-life. He is just now turning off fr< the ladder; but his countenance;; chang not." Another account says: '"He ste along . the streets with so great state,, much beauty, majesty and gravity j amazed the beholders. And many/of I enemies did acknowledge - him to be t "bravest.subject in the world, and'to him gallantry that graced all the crowe" Clothed in "fine scarlet richly shammad wjith'. golden lace, and: - linen with - fi pearling about, his .delicate .white; glov in, his/- .hand, his stockings \of ^. incarna silk, his shoes with their "ribbons on 1 feet,'' his ' dress \ was -"more becoming bridegroom than a criminal.". After hanging on the gibbet for-thr ,hours.; th? body was taken down . and ti head ; was affixed to the Tolbooth; ; ti limbs ; were dispersed " to various . plac throughout the Kingdom, and the dismer bered trunk was enclosed to a'"little sho chest" and. huried on the Boroughmui The Boroughmuir was the usual place '< execution and .burial for the worst ??c?n? nais; ?t was a place of "evil reputation, Ii tie sought during the'day and much to 1 shunned by night. No wonder, then, .that some "advento rous spirits" were required who' ' wou steal to that, grewsom? "spo? raise tl hastily and none too deeply buri?d -bod; and cut from it the heart of Montros Th? master of Merehiston was in exile 1 Holland; it was Lady. Napier- alone wi planned the night excursion and saw carried out. Did her heart "fair her thi . May night; waiting at the foot bf the tui ret stair until her messengers, returning put in* her.hands something not seen, bi felt, , with the square of fine linen a "tricked with bloody g?les?". That sam square of linen ?nd the pair of stocking of "incarnate" silk showing .? still darke stain have remained ever since among: th treasured possessions, of the Napair fam -'ny. :r ^HBSBHHBHHHi For a time, then, the heart was safe a t Merehiston. It was embalmed and 'in ? closetf in a little steel case." made of th ! blade of Montrose's sword; the case wa placed' in a fine gold filigree box, whia had belonged to John Napier, the inven tor' bf logarithms; and. the box in its tun i:was. deposited to a silver urn. Before very long,, however, Lady Naple dispatched the casket by some faithfu . hand to the young Marquis of Montrose ? who, .with Lord. Napier and. others of th? connection, was still living in exile in Hoi land, and here begins the first part of it: adventures, of which, unfortunately, n< record now* remains. ^^^yttnBHB| For many years the heart was complete, ly lost sight of, and any hope of ever re? gaining it had long been given up, when ? friend of the Napier family recognized th? gold filigree box' enclosing; the steel cast among a collection of curiosities to Hol? land: He purchased the relic at once 'and returned it to Merehiston, ? at that timi the property of Francis, the fifth Lord Napier. There for a second time the heart reposed, but not for long. On the dea ti of the fifth Lord Napier it passed toto the keeping of his only surviving daughter, Hester, afterward Mrs Johnston. Some years after her marriage Mrs John? ston was on a voyage to India with her husband, her little, son, and all their household goods, when their ship, which formed part of the fleet under Commodore Johnston, was attacked by a French frigate, and a stiff fight ensued. Mr John? ston busied himself with four of the guns upon the quarter deck, while his wife, who had refused to go below, remained beside him, a heroically obstinate figure, holding by the one hand her little boy, and in the other a thick velvet reticule, into which she .had hurriedly crammed all the things she valued most, including, of course, the heart. \ln the middle of the fight a splin? ter struck Mrs Johnston on the arm, wounding her severely. The velvet reti? cule gave little protection-to its precious contents, and the gold filigree box was completely shattered, but the inner steel case remained unharmed. It must have been some consolation to Mrs Johnston that, when the attacking frigate retired; the English commodore left the flag ship and came on board the Indianman to offer his thanks and congratulations to the lady and her husband, who had set the crew so gallant an example. Arrived in India, it was easy to find a clever goldsmith, who constructed another gold filigree box in place of the one broken, also a silver urn like the original. On the outside of the urn was engraved in two native dialects a short account of Mon? trose's life and death. The urn soon came to be regarded by the natives as something uncanny, and the report spread that it was a talisman, and that its owner would never be wounded or taken prisoner in bat? tle. So one is. not surprised to learn that before long the urn and its contents were stolen, and in spite of every effort could not be traced. Mrs Johnston, however, discovered after some time that it had been sold for a large sum of money to a powerful chief in the neighborhood of Ma? dura. ; ' . It was part cf-tie: te ;?>oy who 'h^^''st?oid:4i??'i??:'his p^em^^d?r^j^ 4n^r the attack," on the Indiaman to-s&a^^^ Xour: months':pf. every year with a, native^ -chief,, in order to learn something ci^t??00 language and' native methods^ pf h?htl?^^ and-shooting. While on a sportmgy?j^p^^^ ditton the boy distinguished himsett-^iij^^ wadding off the attack pf a :. wild rhol^^^ whereupon, the-cbief,'to show his:-^app??c??^^? tion of -the p?rfoimance-prom?seaj^int-^^^ Oriental fashion, to give the Ia?-practl?al'^^ ly anything he-chose to ask- As this chief ^ was the purchaser pf the stor.. naruraliy begged that ' the taxnUYr^: property might. be, handed - bae^^to^l^Si^^ The chief made a -generous speech. Sia^?^^ ply, expteining that when "jue/ boug?t^a?i^ .urn and'its contents'- he -had^no/ide?^tfint^ they were stolen goods, and w^ag:)flMS!^^ "one brave man should always ^ttend^^^ the wishes', of another; brave "Tnan^*jwh?B^^S ever his religion or't?s race ..' might^?t?^^S therefore ite considered it his. d?ry"rto::3B3???g^ ni the wishes of the irave1 maite^ij^e^ heart was. in -the.urh>. .?hd;wh<i^,^wis^.^*o^^ been, that his heart should be^^k^tibj^tf^^ descendants." Accordingly f the' lJc5?':"?re^| turned home laden-TOtn.gtf^ for himself and his mother; a^ca^j^^^ with him the urn_ and si 'Iette^?f/^?1?KS^p from its Iate;<mstodian.'-Th^^ liberal-minded c^?f .fora sequel to thls'?dvent?r? of the hear^B^^^p ing rebelled against the Nabob.of Arcot^^ he was t?kenV by ?and many of his 'famllr;^^ When the chief was told he would het-pia^"^ to death h? refeired to the rose; and said t^ alfke^in the'manher -of;thefc dyhig?'^^S^g ; hoped that: after would preserv? his. heart,; asNtfie ihe^^S^S Montrose had been pres?rved, for fu?n?^ generations to honor. * . - ' ' '^^^^^m . The Johnsto?^fanifl^ in 1791 Being In France at the.time .wbeB^ the Revolutionary <?overnment. <^mpe??dSp2 all persons to give up their-gold andaify^^? plate and ie weis, Mrs Joh astQp:"\estiw^8S^^ the silver urn, With its enclosures; ~t?V*J^^ Englishwoman living at BdaIogne,.--TW?^^ promised to keep lt 'hidden until dt.'c^^^^ be saiely conveyed back to ?ngi?iid^^^^ the woman^m*ed:soon:-?fterward and tt?j?fM that"' time nothi^ of 'the heart of ;Montera^ There would:appear'-^j^b^it?Si^m^S^^? the ultimate recovery oi "^{..J?^:^^SB stranger things have, happened,-a?d^^^TO^B be that even .artery the years the heart o? the Graham again rest <>n^Ptj^?^.U?^:?-;*^^^^^^B TUBERCULOUS Ct*WS pASG.^^^^ Pref Koch's Dictum Coi Vi" (From the Bait Prof Koch's' dfct^ losis'of:''Cb^''Js^o^tTani sm or child is^eontroverte?^lnSpBBOia .elsewhere* ?wfth' ;vir^a^;j?MC^m1? '^Virchow opposes t^e^ylCT^a^^SS bacteriologist : andr^^^otcej^^ Johne, professor of pathological'ai at Veterinary,<&UegaDfyi)re?aCT^ essay,;;^^ ."lt.. is . pte?a^y:^!^a^^0x^ cows that pi?ys/th^Vch^ei^^iarl^^ci tuberculosis,/ an?ong i;<^dw|^^^? his point The rl?c^?rm^tibi^lhi^ a veterinary - ?urgeou:wh?k^ m?ur thumb while dissecting .a^d^seased; Six months later rnhercu?oe^man: ward tubereulousbaei^ spctazm'Thesurgeon and .*'at^fiie:.p^^-mortem;^^a?@ the Bpctor^addsi /Va.^coh^d??6S^ of shnilar .bacilli were T?undv^?^?^ of-the decea^edrs thumb.* r Th^coitc is -"that the bacillus of .bovhieruben Is a tubercin^s^bacu^ ?power;; wMchr?s'perhaps less^i?tnj^ . ai ge)rm ?t-h^ection for n^^i?^im human belngsf of good he?tJ^GO^@ . powers ktl^irjeslstano,>b?t^^^f?^^l more destructive to ^eSl^?j^j^g^ grownup-persons who^hav?:5i??al^c tutions; or who. are iH-fed..,ahd;rjthei not;:' so .capable, of resisting/; ?hil . germs." ' ; oW^^m TEE M TS TER? O E SJJZET-WA Selen tl? t? ar? Still fueled Over th? ~. ? .,-.,?.. ?>&?.? tttois&aa Fhane? ot It-A Charfetf?*; ' Experience!..;' 'r-' ? ? v?^om'thejCHncinna^ " "^ieep-walking ,ds 'sometht^g^ der^opd now ; than: fprme^^t. " , ch??oglsts are. apt; thoron*^ * regardr co.;many roi the phasc^* a New- York ^ cent cas^^that ?? ? yo?u^?mM?f? walking., ten miles to v?it rhls^?a of an even -mor?, recent;' _ young lady^ w?lklhg..tbree^mi???^< night in her night 'gow?^ :^wi?i?t ?mngv upsets many of rth^ppevid cepted theories. , It had been thc' exposure. to intense,.coId as tense heat would, awaken -th?fjsl??j^ er, but in these cases, "whfch^are-w* thenticated, it appears, that -thfe .V>i {.while correcCpossiWy,;ih.:''" always so.. "In my early ^ys,- when?aPtt? .tures ?t a medical college .t?Bai? -with, some other m?di<^--s;t?dfi~ nessed one~ of ^the* fambus^???ei cases that is quoted la-ma^/qfl' ard books. One night we^w?r?S _ along Lexington street, 'Where."th?? ington street market is located, ;.::jC our party called^attention to flu " figure,1 dad in;white, on-th?'rc market building. "It pr?vea%ta-;be@ a giri about ; IT.-r years,:.of:&8&Z:?>g5$& She. had lost a canary ;bkdf4th?e?9 " noon- hefore, which was lastr? eaves of the roof -, of- the ^ma? Darkness came on, h?wever^hiifo' thoroxigji search for -'thfe,vhtwE?( made, and it was ..givens "up;. went to bed. and during the>ni^^ bed and returned to the mdrket^M$^^^n<| t and climbed "to its roof. ; ". Z f. '..This In itself was not ? daByat?*-' for there was ? series pf?;she?s?i to it. She walked the entire- ' one side of the market, along*', treme edge- of "the roof. At'^everj!^ It seemed she would step ^ver and. had she done so she wouldst have been killed. - -'%?--; "Our party divided up, and on? the leading physician of Chariest?! " climbed to the roof and seizetf? " She awoke the - Instant , he tx>.uchea^J and it was with the greatest; that he could keep her from faBIngfe. while in her sleep she appeared toy' expert, sne was a very poor climbeg? awake. It w?s a clear case of." walking, -and had she gone- ten farther she would have foaa?r^ie: which had. roosted for the .high rain* gutter which ran alcmgw and where it was found a ^few: afterward.- Sleep-waTking is frequent than- is generally though, as a rule, -it is -confined->X^ dren. I have known of several "ca_. adults who would take walks^n^ sleep as often as once a week.^'~?? SAVED. BY THE MASONIC S3 (From the American Tyle?^^^^ During the memorable raid that: " army made on Petersburg, Va, on Vi 2. 1S65, when.I^ee's lines were br young Confederate, officer lay on the2i severely wounded, and when, wit moment's warning, a company- of;3?5? cavalry rode down towards him ?t ?ij galop, he saw death staring him .? face. His first thought was that there might be a Mason among th?m?J he gave, che signal of distress known x to Masons. Then the Federal captain' quickly to his side, dismounted and ^3; ed 'the company in the centre, without s lesting the man in the least He.-' quickly picked up, though a prisoner^ taken to the rear and tenderly cared: and in the course of time entirelv re ered his health. Brother H W. of Rockwell, Tex, a prominent phj is anxious to learn the name and dence of the officer who saved" his; lift answer to a Masonic sign, and askst this item be published in all Mas?x nalgi