Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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LONG BARTON'S RACE Ima gloomy room, made more dis? mal by a spluttering candle set in a Dottie, the sides of which were cov? ered with a copious overflow of tal? low, a young man sat, attempting to jleeipher the words on a small piece - of paper. Near him, with her l|ead fcent forward in an anxious, half ex? pectant attitude, was his mother, on vhose not unattractive face were ?be iines of toil and suffering. "Well, George," she finally said, ^why don't you read it ?" j, "I can hardly make it out, moth? er," her son replied, "but it s . new, and Ke says he got the receipt from one of the great piano makers in ISew York. It's tne stuff that makes the cases shine so. Think of it ! If ? could get such a polish on my skis, wily, Td win that $200 and pay off the mortgage and get you a thick t?oak and aft the things you need." "Yes, George," said the woman, a slight flush tingeing, her pale face; "but you've tried so many kinds of 'dope/ and they all failed. I'm afraid it's your way of riding, dear." *^My way of riding!" exclaimed the young man, and he looked up ?nd ran his hands through Iiis curly hair. "Why, there isn't a man in Plumas county who can toss more snow in a'day, lift more, stand more, than can I." His mother said nothing. She sighed as she looked up at the snow covered windows, then glanced at her companion with an expression that combined pride and pity. The young man had not overstated his prowess. He was a giant, ? colossus ia strength, seven feet tall, but so thin, so long of limb, so strangely drawn out that for miles,around he was known as "Long Barton" and "Tanglefoot." He was a miner, like . Ms father, who had been killed in an avalanche two seasons before. The winter had set in early, and a ?accession of snowstorms had buried the little hamlet of a dozen houses so deep in the snow that around the Barton home it was nearly 30 feet on the level, and the hamlet, so far as appearances went, had been wiped -out of existence and lay with all its domestic life under the snow. The entire male population had dug the Bartons out, as in previous winters, "Sie operation consisting in begin? ning a shoot 50 feet from the front of the house, or where it was sup- j posed to be, and sinking a burrow i or shoot at an angle of 45 degrees in the direction of the second story. It took some time to accomplish this after the last storm, but finally the miners reached the attic window, giving a rousing cheer-as Mrs. Bar ion and her son appeared to wel? come them. From this time the at? tic window had been the front door. <sreorge had cut steps up the burrow, and the Bartons, as the postmaster remarked, were "in society again." The chimney had been spliced with pieces kept for the purpose, so that the top reached the surface of the snow, and" as George had piled a plentiful supply of wood in the jjo?se in September and there was an abundance of candles, oil and provisions things were as comforta? ble in the Barton home as in any -house in the place 20 or more feet under the snow. But there is a skeleton in every household, it is said, and in the Bar tow home it was pride and debt. .The cider Barton had ?eft a mort? gage on'" the house, which was soon to expire, and the mortgagee wished the monev. He lived^ the citv, 500 miles distant, and did not care for a risk where the security iras liable to he crushed beneath '30 feet of snow, as both Pluma? and Sierra counties were famous for heavy snowfalls. George Barton had not been able to save enough money for the mort? gage. Avalanches had covered the mines and kept him from work. Then one night in returning home he could not find the shoot and had wandered off and when discovered was badly frozen, lt iras the custom irs the village for the miners when going to work to plant a staff with a rag streamer at the entrance of the shoots, so that they could find their homes if a storm came up. But -the wind had blown Barton s flag \pown. Then there was another trouble. "For a number of years George Bar? ton had been a contestant in the ski races which arc the principal amuse? ment of the people of these counties of California in winter, but in everv one he had been defeated-more, humiliated, as twice, unable to con? trol his long legs, he had at first wabbled, then slipped and gone down the slide upon his hack amid the roars of laughter and gibes of the crowd of spectators. "The funniest thing about it," re? marked the storekeeper, "is that Oeorge thinks he can ride and al? ways lays it io his skis or the 'dope.' But, bless your heart, a man might jest as well try to ride on stilts as them legs of his'n. They ain't built J?r skiin. They'd make a good skid "ior a bridge. My, how he did tan? bie up, legs and arms all in knots.' SFby don'i some of you chaps tell "Mw nature didn't intend him to ..Why c?og't you tell him ?" retori ed a listener, laughing. . "Waal, it ain't my business, an I get heaps of fun out of him, fa it's the truth, he ain't got an sense.'' "He's entered for next week," sai one of the group. "What for - the sweepstakes? I asked the storekeeper. (CYo\i bet !" was the reply. "He! got some 'dope' that's like grease lightning, and you can't get the se crct out of him with a team of wil horses. Gus .Lindberg offered hir $10 for a cupful, but he wouldn' look at him, and he's given it ou that he expects to win." "He'll win if the prize is for ty ing his legs into knots," laughed th storekeeper. "He can't equal th time he went to Miss Bates* part; and slipped at the head of thei shoot. It was 75 feet if it was ? foot, and he went sliding down lib a log of redwood-a mile a minute The front door was shut, and hi struck it feet first and landed righ in the party, his legs all in knots." The ski races had been announcec for a week, and Long Barton ha< entered. The grand prize was $250 and he believed he could win it. Bm on the morning of the event hii mother made some excuse for re maining home and was the only wo? man in the hamlet not present al the races. She could not bear t< witness his defeat. The course was on,the slopes of the sierras, a splen? did hill 2,000 feet long, slippery ai glass, and of .so sharp an angle thal a man could not ascend it, and once on it with skis, it was a race like thc wind for nearly half a mile, then oui on to a gradual slope into the valley, where the little village lay buried. Every town or village in Plumas and Sierra counties of any preten? sions had a ski'club, and many o? the members were experts who had performed wonderful feats, and foi this race the pick of every club was on hand at the top of the glassy slide, while an admiring crowd of men, women and girls looked on. The curious Norwegian snowshoes, which were eight feet long, four inches wide and half an inch thick, were being given their final polish, every contestant having his especial "dope," which was his secret. Apart from thc others stood Long Barton strapping on his skis, which had a polish such as had never been seen before. They gleamed in the sun with dazzling brilliance. If "dope" counted, there were those who be? lieved that "Tanglefoot" would win. The first signal was given, and the men lined up, their long skis extend? ed forward, their bodies in various positions. Each racer bore a long staff, or starter. Some held it on one side, some between their legs, while others extended it ahead, and as the' word was given each man gave a mighty shove and projected himself down the terrific slide. They shot over the edge like a wave of water over a fall and seemed to rush into space, then sank so rapidly from view that they were gone be? fore the excited onlookers realized it. The speed increased rapidly, and in 10 seconds was like that of a fast trotter, at 15 it was equal to the fastest train of cars, and at 20* the best men were holding their breath, as it was impossible to breathe at such speed, and the slightest swerve weald send them off the track. From the side the scene was ? frightful one, as it was hard to believe that human beings could preserve their position and not be dashed to pieces under such extreme velocitv. But the iine swept on. a few of the racers surging ahead. Half way down, and four are in advance, two-thirds, and one tall figure is leading. It is Long Barton. He is rushing with the speed of light. The nev: "dope" is carrying him on to victo? ry. Ile knew it; his teeth were set; his heart was in his mouth-the goal was just ahead. Then some? thing happened. He swerved a tenth of an inch; a piece of ice caught the channel o? L^s polished ski, perhaps., and the next second the line c4 racers rushed like the wind by a figure rolling over and over, its legs, arms and long skis seemingly tangled in a hopeless knot. "Tanglefoot" had lost again, and the loud laughter and gibes of the spectators rang in his cars as, half stunned, he slid to the bottom and picked himself up. To their credit, the winners did not laugh. It was the crowd on the hill, and Barton took off his skis and, avoid? ing them, walked over the snow and was iost to sight in the shoot that led to his home. That night, as was thc custom, there was a ball, and at the earnest wish of his mother Long Barton went. But Ire took no part in the entertainment and sat by the stove and watched t lie merrymakers, knowing well that he was the butt | of them al!. l>ate at night, while | he still looked on, a crowd gathered at thc door around a man who had j ?ist arri ved-Reel Stacey, the stage j driver, "Hope you folks has ext ra splices i on vc ur chimneys and fta?? oat," he I said, "lt's banked 50 feet at Ev- \ ans, and the foot marks on the {>ine.? are covered, and lYs snowing ike it will ntiver stop. But (hat's not what 1 come lor," he continu unrolling a bundle, blanket af blanket, and producing a baby tl looked up at the men with a wond ing gaze. "A baby!'' they shouted in chor and half a dozen ii rms reached i the child. "Hold on, boys," said the drivi "business first. This is Jim Grj son's bab;*. His wife died last nig and he's fiat on his back. The c was killed in the snow, and tl? ain't any milk in this town I this," and the old driver held up quart bottle. "X?w, the dod says that the only thing to save t baby is to get it out where ther milk. Ii we don't, it will starve." "Why, Reel," said the storekeep in an awed whisper, "it's death trv the mountains in such a storm v "So I told the doctor," repli the stage driver, "and I haven't t nerve to try it. I know what it is a man's life against the kid's. B I said I'd state the case. He's a ne coiner at Sierra. He got here a: can't get a wa v." "Ifs 50 miles to milk if it's foot," remarked a red whisker miner in the group. "Won't bro; and water dor' "It mimili for some." retorted tl driver, "but this baby's not hui that way. She wants milk, and si won't touch anything else. They* been trying it for days. Is there ai man here that can suggest an thing ?" And the speaker raised h voice. Every miner present knew that was impossible to get out of tl mountains, even if it was not sno^ ing, until the snow had settled. E erv one recalled the names and fae? of men who had met death trying 1 cross the sierras in storms, and f( a few moments no one answere? Then, as the driver pulled the blai ket over the little figure, which 1 held closer to his breast, a voi< said : "Well, if the baby wants mill she's going to have it; don't you fo] get it, boys." And Long Barto edged through the crowd and too thc child in his arms. He rolled : up in the coverings the stage drive had taken off. Then he pulled o his snow cap and, followed by th men to the door, went out into th storm. "Weil," exclaimed Reel Stacee "Fd have picked-Tanglefoot' th last one for such a proposition. Bul bovs, we've mistook him. He's zo sand, for he's going to his funeral. What George Barton said to hi mother no one knew. Time was th essence of this transaction, and in ; very short while he came up th shoot clad in his furs, the bab; wrapped in a fur bag which wa slung under his arm. He carried hi staff in his hand, a revolver in hi pocket for wolves, and on his boote( feet were the skis which the incom parable "dope" had polished so tha he could hardly stand. A momen later he was lost to view. r.J?he same dogged persistency which had Jed Long Barton to bc licve that he could win thc race made him think that he could carry tl? baby to safety. If he had been ask? ed an hour before if a man coule do this, he would have said no. Hi strode up the little valley, keeping in the center, with the walls of thc sierras, suowclad, trembling with ava lanches-on either side and in aa hour struck the straggling forest. He knew, the trees well and for five miles kept the trail. Then he came to thc first slope. By the aid of his staff he made a rapid slide, reaching the bottom of thc canyon safely in a few seconds. And this was io be his experience-climbing and slid? ing. Thc next hill was so soft that he was breathing hard when he reached half way. Then he felt a tremble, a nameless thrill, and the entire side of thc. mountain seemed to give way, and he was carried irre? sistibly down on the wings of an av? alanche. He made desperate strug? gles and by a miracle kept near thc top and after much labor dug him? self out. It had stopped snowing as he started down the canyon, now slid? ing, now leaping, the famous "dope" carrying him well and fast. From a deep valley he must climb the next range, but when he was half way up the snow began to fall again, and hs* became bewildered. Me could not sec the stars and would have to trust to luck. So he swung himself over the divide and rushed down the slopes. Anni her range to climb, am' still it snowed, and later the wini! rose and tossed the snow aloft in great spec tral wraiths that looked to Iiis distorted vision like shrouds. But that warm bundle so close to i.is he;;rt gave him courage, and he pushed on. Five hours he had been travel:));: Bteadih'. lie could not remember how many ranges he had passed. He had forgotten how many ranges he was io cross to reach the town He made some descents that equaled the famous race course, narrowly es? caping trees and rocks, holding one arni about the bundle, paning it as he heard fitful cries. Again lie was caught in an^varanche, reaching thc bottom waist deep in snow, the baby almost buri* d. 11 was no j dayligh t, and after dig^in*: hi* feel o;:t he un rolled thc bundle and. protecting it, gave the baby a ration cf the milk, Tv"hich bad kepi warm against Iiis body, il looked wonderingly at him the while, and (Jooroo,, who knew very little about, babies, made up Ms mind that it must be a very good natured one. He did not realize how weary he was until he started up again. Then he found that his foot had been twisted and he was lame. The cold was increasing, the snow was finer and filled his eyes, and he felt that this was thc beginning of the end. But on "he pressed until the after? noon, when the baby cried, and he stopped to give it the remainder of the milk, looking at the little face with red and desperate eyes. On he went again, now running, now limp? ing, plunging down the slopes until he began to experience a strange oppression, as though a band of iron ! was about his head. Then he seem? ed to be at home, and he tried to ask his motlier to take the baby. He suddenly stopped, trembling, realiz? ing that his mind was not clear, and dashed snow upon his forehead. Then he rushed on again like a madman. How far he went no one knows to this dav. but it had been manv miles in the wrong direction, when, with a wild laugh, which ?Tightened those who heard it, Long Barton unslung a bundle and plunged into a half, buried wickiup, from the top of which sparks were rising. The men reached for their firearms at sight of the gigantic and wild eyed figure, but the squaw, laying her papoose among the blanket?, with unerring instinct caught the bundle from the hands of the falling man, and Jim Grayson's baby was saved. As for "Tanglefoot*' Barton, one of the half breeds, who came in to the vil? lage from another wickiup and who understood English, said lie was clean off his head and thought he had won a race.-Charles F. Holder in INTew York Evening Post. . In and Into. Much confusion characterizes the use of these two prepositions. Stor month gives the simplest and best rule concerning them which we have come across. He says: "Into comes after a verb denoting motion, and in follows a verb denoting rest." This gives the idea comprehensive? ly, but it must not be taken literal? ly.. Thus it is entirelv proper to say "He fell in the street." The person referred to may have been walking or standing still when he fell. He was. however, alreadv in the street, and therefore when he fell he did not move into it. If, however, he was in a building or other structure facing the street and he fell, landing in the street, it would then .bc proper to say "He fell into the street." In is frequently an adverb, and in such cases it should be "used after a verb denoting motion. For ex? ample, it is correct to say "Il came in" of one who had been asked to enter a house. But if a preposition were to be used in this connection the phrase would be "He came into the house." Those who will commit to memo? ry the rule quoted will soon be sure of their ground when they have oc? casion to use in or into. A Curiosity^ "Thc man I am looking for," said thu mature looking spinster sentimentally, .'must be utterly unselfish, brave as a Hon. tender, truthful as thc day, indus? trious, intelligent, thoughtful, of dis? tinguished presence and one wlio never drinks, smokes, gambles or uses pro? fane language. 1 shall not mind if he is poor-that; will not matter." "Not a bit." rema dc eil thc damsel's cynical old father grimly. "He'd have a fine chance of making money, my dear." "How so. papa?" "Why. they'd sive a fortune ?or a man like that In a show." Preacher ?nd Exhorter. There was an old darky preacher in Virginia who would never become or? dained, but was content to remain just an exhorter. This seemed rather strange to some of Ins congregation, and ono day they asked him about it. "Well, it's dis way." said he. -When you's a preacher, von's gottor have a tex' an' stick right close lo it. but if you's only a exhorter you kin branch." The Original One?. lint 1er-Hut do yon remember all you j read V Baker-I hope not. If I did I shouldn't enjoy ?he origina! writings <-f some cf my friends, yon know.-Boston Tran script. nattery was formerly considered a! vice, bin ?i N i:??\v grown into a ers tom. -Syms. We rattly <-nnf<^< that we desert*- j What W" <!!i"' 1 i Jiiesind. j M?<lici':t?iHl I 1? to !)nte. "Think of a woman with her soda' j responsibilities having a ehild!" "Disgraceful! Bul they say she \* ! fond of it." "That's the strange part. She is al- ! most like a mother to it"-Town Top- j ic*. Writing; aa? Dr?nala*. Dorothy-Don't you feel in awe of j literary women? Dora- No. indeed. My literary cousin j .sys it toke* more sense to dren well j than it does lo write a book.-Delr?it j Free Trew. * TEE JUNGLE BEAUTY SHE PLUCKS HER WARDROBE FROM THE TREES AND ViNES. Lace Bark ls the Favorite Ball Dre?? Fabric of the Scmicivilized Belle or the West Indies - Living: Jewel? That Outshine thc Diamond. Down in the tropical jungles of Cen? tral America and the West Indies the head of the family is not worried by milliners' and dressmakers' bills. The semicivilized belle of these i^nds knows how to get nearly the whole of her cos? tume from the jungle. She manufac? tures it herself from the materials she gathers from nature. Though she may be able in rare cases to get from the ono shop ten or iifteen miles away a few yards of cloth with which to make her dress, any trimming she may wish to put upon it must be searched for in the woods. Lace bark is her favorite material for milking anything light and dainty. This lace bark is the film which covers the heart of the lace bark tree. The natives carefully remove it and soak it in running water for three or four days in order to get off the gum and unnecessary tiber. After that it is bleached on thc sands by the river and sprinkled now and then to whiten iL When it has become a creamy white it is pressed with a hot iron or a heat? ed, stone and is ready for use. lt has a fine lacy appearance and runs into more artistic patterns than any manu? factured article. When made into a dress it is wonderfully beautiful. The jungle girl uses it sparingly on her ordinary clothes, but for her ball dress flounce after flounce is used to give a fluffy look to the skirts. She knows that it becomes her as nothing else would. Her jewelry consists of beautifully colored seeds strung together in the form of necklaces, bracelets and tiaras. In addition to these, on the night of the ball she catches the brilliant fire? flies which swann in the jungle and artistically arranges them in her dusky locks. The jungle girl would not ex? change her "peenie wallahs," as she calls the fireflies, for the diamonds of the northern belle. The jungle girl's hats are a marvel to behold. She weaves them herself from the jippi jappa grass, and can get any shape or style she fancies. She. trims them with thc netty fiber of the cocoanut palm and the gorgeous wings of the mountain parrakeet, which is shot and brought home by her father and brother. . Even her parasol and umbrella are supplied by kindly nature. When the sun is too hot or the rain too heavy a big plaintain or banana leaf does as well as anything bought in the largest stores of an American city. A creole belle is as fond of perfume as the daintiest American woman and is just as particular that it shall be of the best kind. She goes to much more trouble to procure it, but then she knows that it is .always pure and fresh. She first picks her fresh flowers, and then, by some process handed down from one generation to another, she dis? tills it. Thc secret method is often known to only a few families, and they would not give it "away for any sum 3f money. The lucky holders of the secret are of course envied by all who know them. Although others may receive presents of the much valued scent from those in the secret, the}* cannot make it them? selves and therefore cannot afford to be as lavish with it as they wish. The tropical girl's soap is procured on the way to the bath. As she walks down to the river to bathe she stops hore and there to gather soap berries and cuts a piece of stick called "chew stick," which she uses as a toothbrush. She chews the end of it until it be? comes quite soft and froth gathers at the end. She then nibs her teeth well with it. This is the best toothbmsh on earth, as it not only prevents the teeth from decaying, but keeps them beauti? fully white and clean. Feople in other countries, knowing the value of this chewstiek above all others as a denti? frice, have it powdered and exported to them. In many parts of South America the natives cannot buy cloth to make their clothes, so they have to spin it them? selves out of cocoanut fiber, river weeds and bamboo fiber. The cloth woven from the bamboo filler is very soft and silky. Unlike thc West Indians, the South American belle wears shoes of a kind. These are made of a coarse woven ma? terial like sailcloth, which is attached to soles of rawhide. They are the most comfortable shoes imaginable and are used by thc soldiers of South America when on the march. They are called "alpagattas," and Americans who have traveled in South America invariably bring them home to their wives and daughters for bath slipi>ors. Those who are lucky enough to have a pair would not exchange them for any oth? er slippers, however costly. No other footgear equals the "alpagatta" for comfort and durability.--Washin.u'ton Star. Of Conrw. "Ai! the defendants they've brought before us so far," said the first jury? man in the criminal court, "appear to be sn thin and miserable." "Yes." replied the other, "naturally they have pinched look."-Philadel? phia Press. Sit a kir.? fiann* ni French Fancraln. A most painful custom at Trench funerals is thc posting at the exit door of the church wherein tho ceremonies take place of the male head of the de ceased person's 'family, the widower or thc ddfsl son or brother, whose duty it is to shake ha mis with every person who luis beeu present at th?' ob? sequies when -once J hoy are over ami people ?rc ??mug away, lt is not eti? quette, fnr the gentleman to speak lo anybody, but if Ur is nwivod to ti-ar* bis weeping is -ctwsWrml :i most dp prwpriate wtk?u. SOLILOQUY OF THE CONSERVATIVE. To advertise or not ; that is the q ues-;.: tion : Whether 'tis better to let things go to ruin To see one's business slowly dioop and die, Or to rise up against this growing* trouble And, advertising, end it? To hustle boom To rash ; and by this rash to say we stop . ? The set-backs and the slow disinte? gration ? We have been suffering: 'Twere an experience Earnestly to be wished. To advertise To rush-perchance to fall! Aj, there's the rub : For in that rushing life troubles :nay come. When we have plunged into the bus??i ness swim May make us pause. There's dignity, There's ease and self-respect in th?: old way. For who would bear the contest and the sttife. The competition, daily struggle, con- j stant toil, Contact with the dread advertining man, The insolence of printers, and tee spurns That age conservative must take f rom upstart youth, When he might lean back in his office jj chair In peace and quiet? Who would the shackles wear, But that the dread of being l?h behind, Of seeing business dwindle more and more Until there isn't any, rouses the will And makes us throw aside our lethargy And advertise for custom, far and wide, Thus business doth make heroes of all; And thus our native, inborn resolu? tion ls strenthened, magnetized, upheld, And enterprises of great pith and mc ment ''? Are carried forward to success each day Under the spur of action. -Mahin's Magazine. Letter to D. James Winn. Sumter, S. C. - 50 Danger ia Cold Weather. There is danger in cold weather b = caasii it produces conditions favorable to the^-?e veJopment of those germ diseases known! as la grippe, pneamonia, bronchitis, con-j sumption, etc. These diseases are con? tracted while the mucous membrane of tbs throat and lungs is weakened by inflam? mation resulting from a cold. It ia dan-i gerous to neglect even a slight cold. Hel] nature to ward off disease by usinj?<Ry dale's Elixir. This modern scientific; rem\ edy can .always bo relied on ia ail di?easi conditions of the throat and lungs, dealers. / Cumberland, Md., Feb. 14.--Tw( persons were killed and about seventy five injured, twenty-five of whom wei seriously hurt, ina trolley car acci dent in Frostburg today. The car rai away on a steep grade and crashed int a telegraph pole. Dear Sir : Mr N Avery, Delhi, N Y, had two houses exactly alike, and painted them; one Devoe lead-aifd zinc ; the other barytes-and-zinc. He paid same price for both paints. 1 He used six gallons of lead-and-zino, 12 gallons barytes-and-zinc. He paid $18 for painting lead-and zinc, $36 for painting barytes and zinc. The total cost of the lead-and -zinc job was $27; the total cast oil tb^J barytes-and-zinc job was $54. He didn't know he was buying barytes; the dealer told him that (paint was as good as Devoe. * A fair example of how it geni raliy comes-ont, when you buy "some ;hing just as good." Better go by the^ name: the name; and the name is Devoe. ? Yours trulv F. W. Deroe & Co New York P. S.-L. B. Durant sells our :?aint. CASTOR ?A For Infants and Children. Hie Kind You Have Always Boqghl Signature of $&f^fffl&&4'< The Pit. The new game, that, wherever 21 trodeuced, has become at once moi popular than Flinch ever was. It hi been on the market only sixty da.i but has sold up in the thousands ready. For sale by H. G. Ostcen Co. How to Make Mon?y. Agents of either sex should today wrii] Marsh Manufacturing Co., 538 Lak] Street, Chicago, for cuts and particular* their handsome ALUMINUM CARD CASj with your name engraved on it andi fiU< with 100 CalliDg or Business Card*. ET erybody orders them. Sample Case HB 100 Cards, postpaid, 40c. This Case?aa 100 Cards retail at 75 cents. Yon ha? only to ?how sample to secure an orde: Send 40c. at once for case and 100 cai before nome one gets ahead of you. Sept 16-8m ^COTS RKOTft^iC Any^e n?ti4lng R ?k?iwi **.*? .? *i ri"? w?. inV'Klj" n*? t?r'.;i?i ?.ur ci*i???>-*i rn-v *'?*liM?p t invention <* pi?h*L?y .v?:.t";?r>.h?.\ r:???ntv?ki .Inn* ?'Utily? ..ifl.t. : M<1. Tl- vi'-vrtron fww, tent 1'??*. l?W-< ?vf?i ?* J t\'V*v PJH-?;.'.,^ Px??**!* Wiea inwrtwh M?ri s t o, Scientific ??tr\<uw t-?i^rk*iH^jin* + .0 n*?xj ..!..? ?J. *i - | ?..ir: ?nnrnwrtiL*, $1. r'v.4t.y*U r?*?m?*i( J*r-ore OHc*. C"S y \r*vhuH?i'.r^ '.[*.%