Decatur Democrat, Volume 38, Number 52, Decatur, Adams County, 15 March 1895 — Page 8

RT TYLER’S EXECUTION.

Tale of Love and Electricity—Written nr This Paper by Ingersoll Lockwood.

* !■ CHAPTER I. , has for many years been the custom he wealthy New Yorkers who are 1 of fishing and hunting to make a grly trip to the North Woods of their ite some time during the summer in jrch of that complete change in mode life which they very justly claim is the ’y one potent enough to undo the evil Sets of business and social life in the >at metropolis. Here, far removed -nu«jost and telegraph offices, it becomes impossibility to follow the rements of stocks or to note the conon of the markets, and tired nature, to herself, soon begins to revive under magical influence of the pure air, Vy with the balm of pine and birch !s. The heart-beat becomes more regr, Jind the blood reddens under the di!&ys of the sun. Whoever has been he habit of making such trips as this rt have fallen in with Burtsall Tyler, 3urt Tyler, as he was called by everyy in and about Gilroy’s, the little setnent on the edge of the woods. Jurt was a splendid trapper and guide, 1 knew the North Woods as a city man iws the streets, alleys and passages of particular business quarter. Everyy liked him. and none more than those t>m be accompanied into the woods as dtfptand had he been of a mercenary Ure he might easily have accumulated siderable money, for people were airs ready and willing to pay extra for ’t’s services. But Burt would not lisIto it; no entreaties would induce him ® ept more than the usual fees paid he other guides. It would not be fair,” was his stereoed reply, “for I’m no better guide than of the rest of the boys.” lis generosity, however, didn't save him n the enmity of one man by the name Jack Canefl:. Jack had been one of most intelligent and trustworthy les until liquor had wrought his dowu- . Now that his unfortunate habit ’tendered it next to impossible for to get an engagement, he strove to iw the blame on Tfler by saying: It’s all Big Burt’s fault. Before he ie into the woods I used to make a det living.” yler was well-named “Big Burt,” for stood G feet 4 inches in his stocking , and a finer specimen of physical manI never trod in shoe leather. ?ere was not an Ounce of superfluous 1 on him. Add to this the fact that was handsome enough to pose as an lilies, save that his big brown eyes had ling but kindness in them, and you’ll some idea of the popularity he en■d. ‘is head, finely shaped and superbly ed, on his great, broad shoulders, Wvered with a strong growth of dark, r hair, and although he stood as erect pine, yet there was a native grace in movements that set many a woman’s ■t in a -flutter. lady correspondent of one of the New k papers said of him that "he strode dfh the pine forests like a Grecian out for exercise.” urt loved children, nay, adored them, was a great, overgrown boy himself, knew no keener pleasure than to p with half a dozen sturdy youngs, whom he tossed into the air as if r were rubber 1 balls. Although strong a lion, Burt never smote a fellow 1 save to protect a weak brother from fafful attack. His strength was sim®phenomenal. He had often been wn to slap the antler off a buck’s head 1 one hand, and to hold a wounded infuriated bear, weighing 200 pounds ■erless in his terrible grip until a comion could dispatch him. It seems ily credible, but the story is told of t that while bringing his sweetheart ,e from some place in the up-country, ire she had been visiting—he being oot and she mounted—her horse stumand fell, breaking one of her arms of his own legs. Whereupon In shot the animal, picked up “Little as he was wont to call Ann Carey, whom he was betrothed, although she I an average-sized woman and weighed ■east a hundred and twenty pounds, ■ carried her fifty miles in twelve hours Kppt a single halt, reaching Gilroy’s ftightfall apparently unaffected by the Inordinary feat of strength. Upon Bg chided by Ann’s mother for making V dangerous haste and taking the risk ■uch a fearful strain, Hurt only smiled ■ answered: “She is worth it, mother.” fine of Burt s patrons, who came regu- ■ to the woods every year, was Charles Morris, a well-known New York bank■a man who made money easily and Kt it freely. — ■is only vacation was two months in the North At oods everyyearand ■ effect which this “roughing’ it” had ■n him was really extraordinary. He ■ally appeared upon the scene about ■ beginning of August looking pale. ■ and hollow-eyed; worn out in body I mind. 6He used to say, “When I K arrive, Burt Tyler could kill me with ■ap of his finger; by the time I’m ready ■o back to work I can often wake him ■>y hammering him in the back.” ■aturally Mr. Norris’ arrival at Gilwhere he was accustomed to stop ■ for several days while he and Tyler ■ed themselves getting their traps ■ther before starting into the ■ds, put considerable life into the little ■telry; for it meant a hundred dollars ■d Gilroy, and something to everybody or child—connected with ■house. One person in particular al ■a took special pains to make herseli Keable to Mr. Norris, and that was

e Caneff, Jack's wife, who was hosthousekeeper and barmaid all in one. e was a jolly, rollicking sort of a fan, not bad at heart, but weak at >s in yielding to the influence of Caf whom she loved, feared and despised lual quantities. This particular seateh.eff seemed to be drinking harder I ever. His face and eyes were repully inflamed by his excesses, and the was he was not in a condito -earn a cent. Kate was not only ng for his board, but furnishing him i moaey to buy liquor. > sooner had Jack become aware-of Norris’ presence at Gilroy’s than he ted up his wife atjd urged her in the iiiefifensive and brutal manner to kF’ him. m he termed it.

. “Strike him, Kate,” he whispered to her, with an oath. “I tell you he is one of them New York millionaires! A hundred dollars is nothing mor* to him than ten cents to us. Come now, Kate, that's a good girl. You know I love you; help your old man out of trouble. If you do, I’ll buy a new outfit and go to work again, so sure as my name is Jack Caneff. Why, Kate, you fool,the thing is as easy as telling a lie.” “I’ll tell no lie, Jack Caneff, for you and no man like you; so there!” “Stuff. Kate, listen to me,” urged the husband, half sobered by his visions of gold. “Play a trick on him as you used to do on me when I was rich.” And with this Caneff gave a rattling, wheezing, drunken laugh. “You know how to do it. Go into his room a-crying. Take on a bit; you’re a pretty woman, and he’ll feel sorry for you. Then, when he asks what the trouble is, say that I have just stolen a hundred dolars from you —your savings for a-whole year!” “Never, Jack Caneff,” cried Kate, her eyes flashing with indignation at thought of the man’s infamy. “Never, I say! Come now, get away from here, Jack. I’ve had enough of you for a whole week!” And she pushed the drunkard toward the door in so vigorous manner that he landed in the street before he knew what had happened to him. In spite of Kate’s determination to pay no heed to Jack’s villainous scheme, his words rang in her ears all the next day, and the idea haunted her with a strange fascination. Toward - evening she knocked timidly at Mr. Norris’ door, and when bidden to go in made some excuse for her action to the effect that she had not had time to tidy up the room quite as carefully. as she wanted to do. , The banker was sitting in his shirt sleeves near the table quietly smoking his cigar. The intrusion didn’t seem to disturb him in the least; in fact he looked up and said; pleasantly: “Ah, Kate, is that you?” Kate felt the blood tingling in her cheeks, and the floor grew suddenly uneven beneath her feet, as she pretended to arrange the towels on the rack and to wipe the dust from the plain board mantel. “Oh, Mr. Norris, what a beautiful ring!” cried Kate, as she caught sight of a diamond ring on the little finger of the banker’s left hand. “Why, Mr. Norris,” she rattled on, glad to find something to rid her mind for a

"KATE TOOK THE BELT IN HER HANDS.”

moment of the teribie load upon it, “you didn't wear that ring last year when you were up here. I’m sure you didn’t; now, did you, Mr. Norris?” “You are right. I did not,” answered Norris, amused at the sight of the woman who stood spellbound, with her eyes riveted upon the gem. “That's a very fine stone, Mr. Norris,” said Kate Caneff, with particular stress on the “very.” “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the banker. “Well, well, who would have expected to find a connoisseur in diamonds up here in the North Woods. Ha. ha, ha! pray, Kate, where did you get your knowledge from?” “Oh, I was once a lady’s maid in a rich family in Albany,” replied Kate, “and my mistress had a great deal of diamond jewelry, so I learned ” At this instant the eyes fell upon an object lying on the table. Instinctively she appeared to divine its use, and yet it flashed through her mind that it would be more proper for her to feign ignorance, and so, while thejroice of her drunken husband rang in her ears and the room seemed suddenly to grow dark, she stammered out: “Pray, Mr. Norris, do tell me what that thing is for?” “That Kate?” replied Norris. “Why, how stupid you are, to be sure. That’s only a money belt Did you ever see one before?” “Never in my life, Mr. Norris,” was the answer; and with that Kate took the belt in her hands and scanned it closely, while Norris looked on in an amused way at her open-mouthed astonishment. Had he observed a little more closely he would have ' noticed that her hands trembled and her breath came hard. ' In a moment Kate quieted down, and then, laughingly, remarked: “Here's where you put the money in, I ' suppose, Mr. Norris.”, “Yes. that’s the place, Kate,” said Nor- ’ ris, as he puffed away calmly at his cigar. ’ “And I suppose you've got a pmall for- \ tune tucked away in here this very min- ’ ute, Mr. Norris,” continued the woman. ' “Not by any means, Kate,” came from 1 Npr.ris with a sly chuckle, “unless you ' call six or seven hundred dollars a small 1 fortune.”

“Six'or seven hundred dollars!” echoed Kate Caneff, with wide-opened eyes. A loud rap at the door startled her so that she let the money belt fall to the floor. It was Burt Tyler. ' “Ah, Burt, glad to see you, old fellow; come right in; it’s only Kate. Low bridge, Burt,” laughed Norris as the guide bent his towering forjn to pass clear of the-door. Kate Caneff didn’t dare look up ; ’at Burt's honest face. It seemed to her that one glance from his eyes would look her through and through. “Don’t be in a hurry, Kate!” Norris culled out. But she was gofie. ' t , r “Well, so much the ln’>tter, Burt,” he went on: “now we may t a |k matters'over without any fear of the whole town kaowlu our uIMMh ftit Burt and

light a cigar or a pipe, just as yon please. So we start to-mortow for the woods, do we, at the first streak of daylight? Is everything in readiness, Burt?” “Yes, sir,” said Burt, “everything, and if you don’t get too tired we shall make Coy’s Lake the day after to-morrow, where I can promise you three-pound trout pretty enough to patch a rain-bow with.” “Ah!” came from the banker as his eyes brightened and a smile spread over his pale face, “I like that sort of talk, Burt; it gives mo new life, wakes my sluggish blood up and sends a tingle to the very tips of my fingers. How I do long to feel that three-pounder on the end of my line.” The banker had risen from his chair in his excitement, and was now pacing the floor with his hands thrust into his pockets and his head bent as if in deep thought. Suddenly he halted in front of Tyler's chair and broke out: “Why, Burt, I’m ashamed of myself. I forgot all about it, old fellow.” “What is it, Mr. Norris?” inquired the guide, with a somewhat puzzled air. “Why, 1 intended to see little Ann before we started,” was the banker’s reply.

“THE TWO PISTOLS EXPLODED."

“I wanted to talk to her about your approaching marriage. What month will it take place, Burt?” “Next November, Mr. Norris,” replied Tyler. “She'll be eighteen on the 14th day of that month, and mother made me promise to wait until then. It has been a pretty tough job, Mr. Norris, to wait two long years, but I'd wait ten rather than lose her, Mr. Norris. She is worth it.” “So she is, Burt,” cried the banker, “and she has improved a hundred per cent, since last year. You’re a lucky dog, Tyler, to draw such a prize. Marriage, my boy, is a mere lottery, with a heap of blank tickets in it, too. But, Burt, I like you, and I like little Ann, and I want you to say to her that when we come out of the woods in September, and I have been borp again and feel that I have blood enough in my veins to deserve being called a man, that I intend coming to see her for a certain purpose, and I don’t mind telling you what it is for. I suppose you’d be jealous if I didn’t. I know how fellows act when they’re in love, Burt, and as your heart is about a pound heavier than an ordinary man’s, you must be just so much crankier than the commonplace lover.” Burt laughed heartily at the banker’s nonsense. “I’ve written to my people in New York,” continued Norris, “to send me by express at the end of September ten crisp one hundred dollar notes —” Burt made a gesture of protest. “Don’t say a word, Tyler,” cried the banker, “it will do no good. This is purely a personal matter between little Ann and me; and that roll I intend placing in one of her little hands and closing her fingers around it and telling her that it is a little nest egg which she must put into the savings bank, in case anything happens to you while you’re tramping through the woods.” Tyler grasped the banker's hand and the tears gathered in his big brown eyes; but Norris would listeriPto no expression of thanks, and so the conversation soon turned to matters connected with their trip. As Burt rose to bid his patron goodnight his eye caught a glimpse of the large and brilliant gem which had already called forth such unstinted praise fromKate Caneff. “Don’t wear that into the woods, Mr. Norris,” said Burt, in a low, confidential tone, pointing at the ring. “I don’t mean to insinuate that the North Woods are frequented by any light-fingered gentry, such as I am told stroll up and down Broadway, but you might knock the stone out with the butt of your rifle, or your line might catch in it and make you lose a trout fit for the king’s table.”, Norris smiled at the guide’s enthusiasm and answered good-naturedly: “It’s all very well, Burt, to say leave the ring behind, but I haven’t taken it off for nearly a year, and very much doubt that I can get it off. However, you’re right, and off it comes, if the finger comes with it.” So saying, Norris laid hold of the ring, and began tugging at it so violently that he drove the sharp edge into the flesh, causing the blood to flow. “There you are, Burt,” said the banker. “Let little Ann take care of it for me while we are gone. Good night. I’ll be ready for you at break of day. Goodnight.” “Good-night, Mr. Norris,” replied Tyler, as he closed the door after him, and hurried home to little Ann, who was beginning to w’onder what had become of her tall lover. — ; - Burt’s heart Was too full that night to keep from running over, and although he didnt tell little Ann and the folks in plain words the good luck that was in store for her, yet he hinted darkly at the matter and promised her that she was going to get something which would make her very happy. Little Ann laughed heartily at Burt’s earnest manner, and said she hoped he hadn’t been ordering her a pair of white satin slippers and a box of kid gloves from New York. 8 At any rate the little household went to rest with light hearts that night, and fairy milliners and dressmakers flitted through little Ann’s dreams till she heard Burt’s voice calling her to make haste and conie downstairs to say good-by. All was hurry and skurry at Gilroy’s that morning long before daybreak. Kate Caneff was justly proud of her coffee and hot rolls on all occasions, but that morning she outdid herself. Norris was in the best of spirits and his face already begun to lose the pale and haggard look which it wore on his arrival at Gilroy’s. Just as the first glimmer of daybreak shotted itself, Norris and his gigantic guide turned their backs on the little hostelry and were soon lost in the gloom of the great North Woods. > The first day ofit Norris did well, too | well in fact, for Bjirt was obliged to remind him several times that they were 1 not walkhjg for a wager. . ——-

Nevertheless, the banker row from Ms bed of pine tufts the next morning In excellent condition. The wonderful purity and healing properties of the air had already begun to steady his nerves, and he attacked the cold chicken which Kate Caneff had provided with an appetite that would have astonished his chums of the New York Club. Burt was delighted with the vigor and appetite of his patron, and made the forest ring with one of his hunting songs, which he poured forth in an uncultivated but magnificently full and round voice. They reachedgCoy’s Lake late in the afternoon, and Burt at once set to work to repair the bower house and pitch the fly tent. Norris looked after the traps, collected the pine tips for the bedding and gathered some dry wood for their first campfire. After things had begun to look quite shipshape, Tyler turned to the banker and cried but pleasantly, “Good enough, Mr. Norris; we shall now be able to pass a comfortable night. You must be a little fagged out ; so throw your blanket down for a half hour’s nap, while I step down to the lake for a couple of trout.” The truth was that Norris had somewhat overtaxed his strength, and gladly availed himself of this opportunity to “catch forty winks,” as he termed it. Burt caught up his fishing tackle and strode off toward the lake, promising to be back in a short half hour. Norris had scarcely fallen into a doze when a noise like the crackling of a dry twig under a man's tread aroused him and he called out, “Is that you, Burt?” Receiving no answer, he sprang lightly to his feet, drew his pistol and passed cautiously out of the bower house. Neither man nor beast was visible. The sun had set and the woods were already wrapped in deep twilight. Norris took half a dozen steps along the path leading to the lake with the intention of hailing Tyler. Suddenly the sound of a step again fell upon his ear, coming from the direction of the bower house. As he turned he caught sight of a man’s head and arm reaching stealthily around the bower house, which completely hid the man’s figure. Ere Norris could realize the situation the hand seized Burt’s l pistol belt, which he had left hanging there, and drew the revolver from it. In the next instant the man stepped boldly out from behind the bower house, and, as he raised the pistol, growled out: “You or me, Mr. Norris!” “Jack Caneff, you villain £’ The two pistols exploded almost at the same instant. Caneff winced a little, but nothing more. Norris raised himself on his toes; his jaw fell; he gasped, groaned, pitched heavily forward a step or two, then went to the ground like a log. CHAPTER 11. Burt Tyler had just hooked a fine trout when the two pistol shots startled him. His first thought was to drop his rod and run back to see what the matter was, but so eager was he to land his fish, knowing as he did Mr. Norris’ fondness for broiled trout, that he had no difficulty in persuading himself that the banker was merely trying a pistol, or a catamount or bear had disturbed his nap. He knew, too, that he was only a short half mile from the camp, and that a vigorous halloo would reach him with the greatest ease. So he turned his whole attention to landing his fish, which proved to be a fine one, and fifteen minutes later was speeding like a deer along the path leading to the camp. . / “Mr. Norris," he called out gayly as he drew near. “Mr. Norris, I have him, but he made a plucky fight. Mr. Norris! Mr. Norris! What were yob firing at?” “No answer,” muttered Burt to himself “Why, it’s vey strange?’ (To be continued.) Woman's Softening Influence. “It’s astonishln’,” remarked an old Yankee forty-niner, as he nodded over his glass to a friend, “what a coward a man is at home—a reg’iar crawlin’, sneak, by Jove! I’ve traveled a good bit, and held up my head in most o’ the camps on the coast since ’49. I’ve got three bullets inside o’ me. I’ve shot and been shot at, an’ never heard nobody say I hadn’t as good grit as most fellers that’s goin’. But at home I’m a kyote. Afore I’d let the old woman know that her hot biscuit wasn’t Al when it’s like stiff amalgam, I’d fill myself as full as a retort I’ve done it lots o’ times. Most o’ my teeth is gone from tuggin’ on beef steaks that the old woman fried. D’ye think I roar out when I go over a chair in the dark? No, sir. While I’m rubbin’ my shins an’ keepin’ back the tears, I’m likewise sweatin’ fur fear the old woman has been woke up by the upset. It didn’t use to be so,” sighed the poor fellow, thoughtfully rubbing his shining scalp. “When we first hitched, I thought I was superintendent; but, after a year or two of argyin’ the pint, I settled dow n to shovin’ the car at low wages. I kin lick any man o’ my age an’ size,” cried the old gentleman, banging the saloon table with his wrinkled fist’ “I’ll shoot, stand up, or rough-and-tumble for coin; but, when I hang my hat on the peg ip the hall, an’ take off my muddy boots, an’ hear the old woman ask If that’s me, I tell you the starch comes right out o’ me!” Drowning. Scotch fisher folk have an old and rooted belief that any one rescued from drowning will bring harm to the rescuer. Equally unaccountable is their hatred of the sole survivor of any wreck, who at once becomes an objec' of popular aversion. Birds. Birds which fly highest arid fastest have the most air cells. The air from . the lungs, which is much warmer, and therefore lighter than the outside air, passes Into and out of these cells at the will of the bird, some being able to fill even the quills of their feathers. Indians. The Cherokee tribe of Indians have, perhaps, the most odd form of marriage. The happy couple join hands over a running stream, and they become nt once man and wife. In China. The Chinese believe that the water obtained from melting hallstones is poisonous, and that rain water which falls on certain feast days will cure ague »a4 malarial fsvaa.

INDIAN WEAPONS. Alfie and Revolver In Place of Prim I • tlve Implements. The Indian of to-day has in a great measure discarded his primitive weapons of war and adopted the white man’s. An Indian can reload an empty rifle or revolver shell as well as a white main. How he does it Is a mystery, for the white man needs a special set of tools for the purpose and the ‘‘lridian has none that are not improvised. The fact remains, however, and was so well known’to General Miles that when campaigning after Geronimo in 1886 he published an order directing that soldiers should turn over to their officers all empty shells, in order that they might not be left on the ground and utilized by the Apaches. The bow is used in war when a stealthy attack is meditated, and quite generally in hunting for there it answers as well and is more economical. The degree of skill attained by the Indian in archery is truly astonishing, but it is the result of long and constant practice. The Indian boy’s first lesson is to shoot with a small bow and blunt arrow. Finally he receives the strong bow and with it fits himself for war. These latter are powerful weapons. One that an Indian would with,the greatest ease draw to the arrow’s head could scarcely be bent four inches by a white man. They will send an arrow five hundred yards and put it through a board an inch thick. On one occasion a man’s skull was found transfixed to a tree by an arrow which had gone completely through the bones and imbedded itself so deeply in the wood ns to sustain the weight of the head. He had probably been tied up to the tree and shot. The Sioux make the best bows. Cedar and hickory are favorite woods. The wood is carefully seasoned by being hung, sometimes for months, just out of reach of the flames of the bepee fire. The bow is four feet long and an inch thick in the middle. A warrior, with a sharp knife and a file, will take a week to make a bow, which will sell for about $3 in trade. The Crows make bows of elk horn, aach bow requiring four pieces, nicely fitted to each other and spliged and wrapped together. Wheiw" ornamented, carved and painted these bows are beautiful and readily sell for $25 or SSO. It takes an Indian about three months to make one. Before they came much in contact with the whites the Indians frequently used poisoned arrowheads. The Shoshones made their poison of ants, dried and powdered and mixed with the spleen of some animal. The mixture was then placedin the sun and allowed to decay.- The result was such a deadly poison that if the arrow ever broke a person’s skin it was sure to produce death. Arrows are made very carefully, for upon their construction depends the bowman’s success. Three or four is the limit of a day’s work, even when the rough material is at hand. Tlie branches from which they are made are cut in the fall, when the sap is not running, and are tied up in bundles so they will not warp. They are then hung up in the tepee, in a similar manner to the bow wood. The Shaft is usually channeled or grooved, so as to allow the flow of blood from the wound. Arrows pertaining to different tribes may be distinguished by the expert after examination of the feathering, painting or carving. Indeed, it is said that individuals of the same tribe can tell each other’s arrows in the same way. The tomahawk and war club are hardly used at all. Their place has been taken by the knife, one or more being always carried by a wild Indian in a sheath attached to his belt. Used principally for skinning game these knives are nevertheless at close quarters deadly weapons of attack or delanse. They are also used for scalping. A New Cure for Insomnia. An expert in nervous disorders in Paris recommended to an American gentleman a cure for insomnia which was tried with such success that the patient has prescribed it to many of his friends. It is simply to keep your eyes open when you want to go to sleep and cannot. A person whose brain is too active will sometimes close the eyes and vainly endeavor to sleep. The very closing of the eyes see ns to concentrate the mental faculties on business affairs and other distractions. The theory of the French physician is that if the victim of insomnia will fix his eyes upon some gleam of light, some shadow, or even on the darkness, itself he can relieve his mind from thoughts that perplex it and divert attention from himself. Try the experiment when you are sleepless and see how unconsciously your eyes will close and your thoughts begin to take possession of you. Struggle to keep them open and fixed upon an object, either real or imaginary, and before you are aware of it the struggle will have ended and sleep will be victorious. Live Without Water. Persons who have given natural history and the allied sciences but little study have expressed much surprise upon reading of the number of animtfls, serpents and insects found by the Dr. Merriam expedition in the Death valley, the rainless and waterless district in southern California. I cannot say as to whether any of the creatures captured or killed by the expedition mentioned above can exist wholly without water, but can cite several instances men 1 ~ • o

tloned by authorities of high repute of animals which seldom or never drink. Blanchard; in his book on Abyssinia, says' that neither the Doreas nor the Bennett gazelles was ever known to resort to the springe, creeks or rivers for the purpose of drinking. Throughout Africa the expression "As dry as Sahara or an old gazelle” is very common. Darwin, in his "Voyages of a Naturalist,” says that unless the wild llamas of Patagonia drink salt water, they must not drink at all. All writers on natural history subjects are agreed on the point that the largest and most interesting branch of the sloth family never drink. Haynie says: "There is only one branch of the peculiar animals which never drink water.” American Notes and Queries mentions a parrot which lived in the London zoological garden fifty? two years without drinking so much as a drop of water. Somers, Williams, Christian and others doubt whether wild rabbits ever drink, but Rev. J. G. Wood questions the correctness of their suppositions. Creatures which never drink are thought to absorb moisture from their own tissues or from the surrounding atmosphere. - — ll Decline of War. The warlike temperament of man has been one of his most prominent characteristics from the earliest times. To live to fight has'been the chief aim of most primitive people, and has been a leading occupation of all civiziled ones. Armies have grown in size, weapons have multiplied in number and destructiveness, battles have grown more and more deadly in action, while also becoming more merciful in their accompaniments; but still it is everywhere apparent that in spite of these aids to carnage the military spirit is on the decline. May we not look for the cause of this in the enormously increased cost of warfare and its interference with the pursuit of prosperity and weaUh, asks Prof. Lingley, in Popular Science. When the internal losses to i a people become greater than those they can gain through conquest and annexation they will be very loath to enter into a great conflict. lam very far from saying that many other causes, such as ethics and a growing spirit of mercy, may not have contributed to this pacification of the nations, but is it not true that the cost of war is the chief preventive of war? If so, does it not illustrate the rule that the reactions set up by the vast technical improvements of methods of destruction have reacted on the primitive cause of destruction —viz., the human will—and have lessened the cause by modifying the heart and brain of man? Rise of the Drummer. One development of commerce was for many years entirely unknown, says the New York Price Current. The bright, pleasant, sharp young fellow who now calls on customer after customer throughout the United States, always neat and always attentive to duty, the drummer, did not then exist. He began to be seen as soon as railroads became common, or perhaps a little before. There could not have been many before 1840. There were, however, salesmen who frequented the principal hotels, such as Bunker’s, Lovejoy’s, the Howard house, the United States and the Astor, long before this They had a fine memory of faces and of names, and spent much of their time in scanning hotel registers and being in the lobbies of inns, so that when merchants arrived from the country they might be on hand to welcome them and to escort them to their place of business. Little scrutiny of hotel lists is now made, but this was then the most obvious method of increasing and holding trade. There was in 1860 no way of knowing with reasonable certainty the rating of a dealer some distance away. Commercial agencies Were not then established, and selling to the retail trade was much more of a lottery than it is now. Those wholesalers were successful who were th< best judges of credit. o Indian Dyes. The Navajo Indians produce the brilliant red of their blankets from bayeta, a bright scarlet cloth made in Eastern cities and raveled by the Indians for the yarn. Their gray is the natural color of some of their sheep; so is their white and their black. They produce a deep yellow from the alder boiled in water and afterward fnixed with impure native alum. A dull red is produced from alder bark. Black is also obtained frbm the aromatic sumac, yellow ochre and the gum of a species of pine. This last dye is essentially an ink. Most of these dyes are produced by elaborate and laborious processes, bht the Navajos also use dyed wools made in Eastern mills. .* Flooring of Wood Pulp. In the latest reports of the local Industrial Union mention is made of a process, claimed to be entirely new, for manufacturing floor mosaics from wood pulp, an innovation which is expected to produce important results. It is'claimed, says the New York Engineer, that this process is distinguished from the known processes of manufacturing sectional or mosaic floors by reason- of the fact that sections made according to it are not liable to any change of temperature, and are not like stone, but similar to wood in all essential qualities.