Decatur Democrat, Volume 39, Number 41, Decatur, Adams County, 27 December 1895 — Page 10

democrat DECATUR, IND. g. BIACKBURN, - - - Pttkmctb. Too much slush about "Beautiful Snow.” Sicily Is burdened with an overproduction of brimstone. Sicily should reach out for the markets of the world —particularly the next world. We regret to learn that since Barney Barnato, the London Kaffir king, has a wife and several children, It will be impossible for any American girl to annex him at present Os course, that Texas mob which hanged the wrong negro the other day was “composed of the best citizens.” What would have happen if a few of the worst citizens had participated? A barbecue? A striking illustration of the slender profits of literature is found In the declaration of Miss Beatrice Harraden that her whole return from “Ships That Pass in the Night" was $650, of which $l5O was the fruit of American sales. If Miss Harraden had invented the “pigs in clover” puzzle she would have made half a million. A fashionable audience In Paris recently listened to a lecture on chemistry by a celebrated chemist When the ladles reached the open air their escorts stared at a number of them in amazement,. A most remarkable change had taken place. Those of them who had worn rouge found on their return home that the rouge had become converted Into various colors by the chemical decomposition from the gases which had been generated during the lecture. As the women marched from the hall there were seen among them complexions of all sorts of colors —blue, yellow, violet and black. A movement is going forward in Philadelphia to restore Independence Square to its condition of a hundred years ago, and through a recent act of the Legislature the city is at liberty to proceed with the work. This will require the removal of some costly buildings that have been permitted to intrude on the historic square, but the citizens, almost without exception, favor their condemnation. When the famous Independence Hall and its surroundings look just as they did when the Declaration was signed, public opinion will protect them from any further encroachment as long as the republic stands. ». — • The, seeker after an “undiscovered country” does not need to go to Darkest Africa. There are, it is known, vast spaces of the North American continent ' which have never been penetrated by the white man’s foot, or if any exploration has been made no record remains. The Canadian Geological Survey within a year has entered upon a region hundreds of square miles in extent, of , which all past maps have been conjectural, the streams laid down being im. rInary. This country, so far from being a desert, is a timbered region, valuable If opened to transportation, and capable of producing wheat. He who would build his lodge in a vast wilderness can find a location a long way this side of the pole or the equator. No longer than ten years ago even the Transvaal was looked upon as no better than a howling wilderness. Some traces of gold had been found, but they were not regarded as workable at a profit The house of Rothschild appealed to their American correspondent to send the best mining engineer in this country to South Africa to investigate. * Gardner Williams, at present the director of the De Beers diamond mines at Kimberley, undertook the mission. He reported to his principals that he was surprised and disgusted at their credulity—there was no gold in the Witwatersrand. Mr. Williams was an authority of the first class, but the territory which he condemned as worthless to the gold miner is now yielding something like forty millions of dollars a year in the yellow metal. Lieutenant General Schofield, who retired from the command of the army recently, is the last of the war generals. •His distinction was achieved in one 'of the latest battles of the civil war—the battle of Franklin—and now he leaves no successor whose part in that great war was more than that of an under officer. Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Schofield! With these names the history of the civil war concludes, and hereafter the commanders of the army will be men who bore but a subordinate part in it These facts show how remote that great war is, even to those who had some part in it. A few more years and all that vast army will have passed away, and history will begin to I adjust the relation of events. When the next change in the head of the army occurs, in 1903, there will scarcely be even a subordinate left who took any part, none certainly that took a distinguished part, in the civil war. General Schofield retires carrying with him the best wishes of his countrymen. During the war he showed himself, to be a great soldier, equal to every ernergency, and always holding a place of distinction wherever duty called him. His rank Is with the greatest of American warriors, and he will, long be remembered as one who fought gallantly for the flag of the Union. According to recent reports from England spinners there have succeeded in experiments with ramie that may have an Important bearing on the spinning Industry of‘the world. One leading company has been engaged during the year in treating ramie and spin-

ning the product into yarn, which has sold in the open market at a satisfactory profit It is believed that ramie la destined to pipy an Important part in' linen and hemp manufactures. It is admirably adapted for the manufacture of cordage, bagging, sail canvas add other fabrics liable to exposure to the elements. 'lts strength of resistance is twice that of hemp. By a peculiar process ramie is given the aspect and texture of wool, but as a fabric it gives coolness Instead of wnrmth. Manufacturers insist that it cannot supersede wool, but will in lime take the place of cotton in the warp of mixed fabrics. In the manufacture of silk it can be used to great advantage, as it is very similar to that material in texture, luster and in fineness of fiber. It is also said to have replaced the costly fine cotton thread used in the various products of Lyons, France, which have to undergo an expensive treatment in order to acquire a high lustre. There seems little doubt that it will eventually replace cotton thread. The development of ramie has been much retarded by the lack of suitable machinery to work it. The agriculturists of the Southern States have for the last ten years been trying to diversify their products by the cultivation of ramie, and good results have been obtained. The agitation over ramie in England will, no doubt, bring about a greater production in this country. It will be remembered that, some weeks ago, it was reported that the fast cruiser Columbia had been strained while being docked in Southampton. Since the return of the vessel to New York it has been ascertained that the damage done, whilenot serious, would entail an expenditure of at least SI,OOO in repairs. As is usually the case in such matters, a court of inquiry was appointed to fix the blame for the accident, and, on the finding of this court, a court martial has been ordered to try the commander of the ship on the charge of neglect of duty. The charges appear to be that the straining of the vessel while being docked was due to lack of care on the captain’s part in not having the dock flooded to relieve the strain on the vessel as soon as it developed, and, lastly, in having paid £or the docking of the vessel before ascertaining the extent of the damage and holding the dock company responsible. The prompt court martialing of officers high in rank for cases of alleged neglect of duty is calculated to have a beneficial effect upon the personnel of the navy, as it will force all officers of every grade to be more'attentive to their duties. The new vessels of the navy are exceedingly costly, and the loss or serious daifiage of one of them would entail a heavy loss upon the country. They must, therefore, be handled with infinitely more care than the old wooden ships, and, in order to insure the proper degree of caution, officers must be held to a strict accountability for their acts. Although due allowance should be made for errors of judgment, carelessness or incompetency must be promptly punished. When it is remembered that some of the new battle ships will have cost the government, when completed, close on to $5,000,000, it will be seen that the country cannot afford to risk the safety of these expensive vessels in incompetent hands. . m. ii » POOR LO NONE TOO HONEST. How He Fooled a Post Trader in Ari* zona a Number of Years Ago. The North American Indian may not be readily susceptible to the influences of civilization, but it frequently happens that in business transactions he is more than a match for his highly civilized white brother. Honesty is not always Lo’s “long suit” in such transactions, as a story told by the Tucson Ari,, Citizen of Isaac D. Smith, a post trader on the Gila River twenty-five years ago, illustrates. It was the business of the post trader to purchase the grain crops of the Indians, giving in exchange such merchandise as they fancied. One year the natives had been blessed with an unusually abundant crop. At a short distance from the store was a large adobe building In which the purchased grain had been dumped loose from the sacks, and it was almost full to the ceiling. One day Smith was unusually busy, the Indians standing in a row waiting to dispose of their wheat, and it was not till later that he learned he had bought 16,000 pounds of his own grain. The Indians had tapped his storehouse in the rear, and as the grain rushed but it was caught in sacks and again marketed.—Troy Times. Monastery of La Trappe. The famous monastery of La Trappe, In Northern France, has made a wonderful innovation in the severe rules of the order. The Trappists live under the mo«t rigid discipline of any monastic order, and, in fact, are quite dead to the world. But their new abbey church has been consecrated at Soligny, and in honor of the occasion the monastery was thrown open to visitors for ten days, ending last Sunday. Even women were admitted, although for six centuries no female foot ha<J ever crossed the monastery threshold save on two occasions—the visit of Louis XIV. and hisfequeen and of Louis Philippe with Qu&n Marie Amelie. Indeed, La Trappe, with its rigid silence, was scarcely recognizable, for a perfect fair was held outside and a gorgeous dinner was given to the guests on the consecration day. The monks, who never touch meat, were allowed the unheard-of luxury of an egg with their dinner of vegetables.—Exchange. Here Is a White Squirrel. A perfectly white squirrel',- with pink eyes, was caught by a hunter near South Windham, Conn., a few days ago. The women have more imagination than men; it is women who can keep warm by a grate fire. » \ *

•ns THIS THOUGHTFUL ACT TH A T TELLS. From our home of peace and gladness Comes this happy, jingling rhyme, With our hearts that know no sadness At this blessed Christmas time, As we hear the dear old story In the pealing of the bells, To the giver comes the blessing, "’Tis the thoughtful act that tells." The mistletoe of bygone days Hangs aloft within our hall, And the bright red berried holly Drapes the pictures on the wall, And the air of sweet contentment Which in our household dwells Bears out the cherished saying, “’Tis the thoughtful act that tells.” Let the miser hom’d hl» money— What pleasure doth he find? For when the day of reckoning comes It must all be left behind. And he laughs to scorn the message, Os the sweet, melodious bells, As they bring to him the message “’Tis the thoughtful act that tells." Let them ring and ring it louder, Let it sound through every clime, How our God will love the giver At the merry Christinas time. Let them ring and ring for ever, Until every bosom swells With the love of helping others: “’Tis the thoughtful act that tells.” C. H. CAPERN. . / ' miss HUM'S M Gilt. “Sometimes I hate Owen Meredith!” said Mildred Chesney, as she threw down with a bang the blue and gold edition of “Lucile" she had been reading. “W Mildred!” exclaimed her widowed sister, Mrs. Gresham, who was calmly doing fancy work at the opposite side of the window. “I didn’t know that it was orthodox for a young lady in her first season to do anything else but adore Owen Meredith.” “Well, I don’t. Now, here is what I hate; just listen: Yet there’s none so happy but what he hath been Just about to be happy at some time, I ‘About to be.’ Do you notice? Not ‘will be’ or ‘is,’ but ‘about to be,’ as if nothing ever came at the right time. I call it rank pessimism, and poor consolation, too, this is: And to most of us ere we go down to the grave, Life, relenting, accords the good gift we would have; But, as though by some strange imperfection in fate, The good gift, when it comes, comes a moment too late. “It isn’t true, Eleanor, for there are thousands of people who are 'happy. I have been happy all my life, and I mean to be hrppy until I die. And what is all that nonsense about ‘the good gift,’ as if there were only one good gift in the compass of life. - No, I don’t like Owen Meredith.” A shadow passed over the elder woman's face, and it was a face that showed more development in experience than the ten years’ seniority between herself and Mildred seemed to justify; she had lived, suffered and thought, you could tell at a glance, and she had learned to be patient; that also was evident. She dropped her hands in her lap. ‘“The good gift,’ Mildred,” she repeated; “I fancy it means different things to different people. It means amassing wealth to one man, it means political power to another, it means fame to another, and to most women it means their own ideal of love, for no matter what a woman achieves, she is only just ‘about to be happy’ until that love is hers.” “Now, that is downright sentimental, Eleanor,” laughed the younger woman. “As if there was any one love that had to sweep over you ‘like an avalanche before you could recognize it. It’s all well enough in poetry, but I don’t believe in It. Now, let’s be practical and personal. For instance, there’s our English, friend, Fred Dalgrave. He Is cultured, rich and some day will have a title. He wants to marry your humble servant, who hasn’t made up her mind yet whether to settle down or not, but I don’t love him any better than I do ‘ most of my friends, and still, if I marry him, I expect to be happy—not ‘about to be happy.’ I think my ‘good gift’ will come at once, and not ‘a moment too late.’ Why shouldn’t one be happy with everything to make her so? It is a woman’s own fault if she marries a good man that she is good friends with, and then goes off mourning about being ‘unsatisfied’ and wanting things that always come ‘a moment too late.’ Nonsense!”

“You have been a fortunate girl, Mildred,” said her sister, “and yet it is easy to philosophize before one suffers. God grant that your happiness may be full and complete and in-time, but there are many people who never reach It, save with their finger tips. As to Mr. Dalgrave, this is your first season, and I should be very certain that I loved him more than other men if I were you; more than—let us say, for Instance—more than Edgar Wilton, just byway of example, you know.” “Oh, Ted!” carelessly answered Mildred, although the color deepened on her cheek; “Ted is just Ted, and I’ve known him all my life.” Then, with an impatient emotion towards the offending “Lucile,” she arose to her feet. go right now,” «he

said, "and get a check from father for the rest of my Christmas list. Christmas, thank heaven, is one gift that always comes in the nick of time. Evwr your pessimism, Nell, can’t declare that it Is one of those-lntanglble ‘about-to-bes’ or that it is ever ‘a moment too late,’ ” and the girl went gayly out of the room humming “I Love My Love in the Springtime” under her breath. Mrs. Gresham looked after her with fond eyes that were a little moist. “Nothing has ever come too late for her yet,” she thought “She has never missed the mother who died in her babyhood, and all other good things have been hers. I hope ’twill always be so.” Mr. William Chesney, the millionaire wholesale and retail dealer in toys, fancy goods and Japanese novelties, was in his private office when his daughter reached his place of business. A ragged woman, with a child In her arms, was standing outside his office door in conference with a clerk. "He cannot be seen,” the clerk was saying, “so you’d better go away.” "Why can’t he be seen?” interposed Mildred’s fresh, clear voice, with its wilful ring. “Os course he can be seen. I saw him through the window; he isn’t busy a bit—come on,” to the woman, “I’ll take you in.” And suiting the action to the word she opened the door and introduced herself and her poverty-stricken companions to her father’s notice. The clerk shrugged his shoulders. “I’d rather it was she than me,” he said, “taking beggars in there,” and then he went about his business. There was a mixture of emotions on the merchant’s face; pleasure at his daughter’s presence and annoyance at the sight of her companions, but he rose to the occasion with the air of one who was in the habit of doing his duty. “What do you want, my good woman?” he asked the wretched-looking creature before him. “I want help, sir.” “But don’t you know that I can’t help everybody; even if I gave away all I’ve got,” he remonstrated. “But why don’t you put down that heavy child and not carry her?” “She can’t walk, sir; she is paralyzed on one dide.” There was a hopeless, quiet despaii in her tones and face, something different in her manner from that of a professional mendicant. It was this difference and the sudden interest in Mildred’s eyes that made the rich man push a chair to the woman and bid her seat herself and her burden. “Why did you come to me?” he inquired, “and where is the father of your child?” Something like a swift flash of pain passed over her set features as she replied to his second question first. “My husband,” she said, with almost Imperceptible - emphasis, “died four years ago, and I came to you, sir, because he was an Englishman, and I heard that you were born in London yourself. I canot work, because I have nd bne to take care of the child, and she is helpless. So we have sunk down to what we are. We it seems, sir, and we must beg or starve; and I can’t let the child starve, if begging will feed her.” , “There are children’s hospitals,” he said, “why don’t you go to one of them?” “I have tried them, but they will not take her except for a few weeks at a time, as she is incurable, and five weeks ago they sent her back to me, and since then I’ve not been able to work on account of carrying her about with me.” “Did you ask the city for help?” “Yes, sir; I stood for three days outside the Mayor’s door, but could not get to him, and so Lthought I’d try you.” All this time the pale little creature in her arms had sat with her big bright eyes fastened on a sample doll that lay on the merchant’s desk. A seven-year-old child, with the developed Intellect of one of three years, she was but a baby in her speech and thoughts. She looked old, and she was unnaturally quiet. You could not imagine her crying, even for hunger and cold, and yet you could only treat her as an infant. As her mother ceased speaking, she held out her arms rapturously towards the doll. “Oh!” she said, with a sigh of ineffable delight, “the pretty baby, the pretty, pretty baby!” An impulse that he did not stop to analyze made the merchant pick up the plaything and place it in the crippled arms. A flood of happiness fairly deluged the wizened little face. “For me?” she almost screamed In her nervous delight, “for me?” “Yes, for you,” he said, while a suspicious moisture clouded his eyes; then pulling himself up, as it were, to the practicalities of life, he handed the mother a bill. “Where do you live?” he asked, “and what is your name?” And then, as if afraid that he had let his emotional nature get ahead of his business sense he added, “but would you work if you could?” “God knows I would, sir,” she said “and lam very thankful for this. 1 live in Thatcher’s tenement, on Watei street, now, and lam Mary Wilkin son.” There were no profuse' “jGod blest yous” as she left the office, but acres? the white despair of the woman’s countenance there had broken an ir radiation of light as the another looked at the happy face of her crippled child, who had forgotten all of hei hunger and cold In the blissful pos session of the “pretty, pretty baby.” “Father,” asked Mildred, as the dooi closed, “are there many such In th< world?” ‘Thousands such, child; we have beg gars all day long.” “Such beggars as these,” she per

slated, “who would work if they could; people without any chances?” “Oh, yes, yes,” a little impatiently, said the merchant, for he felt that lie had already wasted time on the subject, not to mention having been guilty of an emotion; "A great many people mlks their chances, one way or another—but how much money do you need for Christmas, eh, Mildred?” “Whatever you think is enough, father,” she answered, carelessly, and when he had given her the check she paused to ask him yet another question. “Do you think there is any need of that child being helpless? Couldn’t a doctor do something?” >. The merchant settled back in his chair with an Indulgently patient expression. “I suppose that if it had been taken in time something could have been done, but I doubt now if it would be any use." “Well, father, good-by,” said Mildred. “Thank you for the check, but I don’t believe anything is ever too late, and I’m going to see about It. I’m going to talk it over with Mr. Dalgrave; he isn’t so busy as you.” \ • Her father smiled as the door closed. “Dalgrave is a safe' counsellor,” he thought. “No Utopian foolishness about him." Mildred’s reflections as stye walked along the crowded thoroughfares were very different. “Just think,” she meditated, “that I never realized before that I had any personal obligation towards such people. I’ve given money, but that isn’t much. I wish I had found that child sooner, and perhaps I would If I hadn’t been so selfishly happy. Now I suppose the ‘good gift’ for that woman would be to have her baby walk like other people’s babies. Well, we must do something right away. Fred will help, I know.” But when slie saw that clear-headed young gentleman he was not as enthusiastic as she was; In /act, his cool, matter-of-fact, half-bored air gave her a queer feeling of disappointment that she had never imagined it possible ,to feel towards the heir of an English title. “My dear Miss he said, “those beastly poor people in the slums are impostors, most of them, and nuisances, too. The more you do for them the more you may do. Like as not the woman took the child from somebody else just to carry her around and excite sympathy from sweet-faced angels like you.” The compliment passed unheeded. “I’ll give you a substantial check, Miss Mildred,” he went on, “but I must insist—and there was a proprietary air in his manner now that she could not endure—“that you give it to some charitable society to look into the case for you. and that you will not think of being seen yourself in that low neighborhood of thieves, thugs and levee rats.” “Thank you, Mr. Dalgrave,” she said. “If I need it I will ask for It,” and she turned the conversation to other themes. | That same evening Mr. Edgar Wilton dropped in with the familiarity of an old friend just about sunset, as Mildred and Mrs. Gresham sat talking over the Incident of the morning. “Tell Ted about It,” suggested Mrs. Gresham. But It needed some persuasion to induce Mildred to do so. At last, however, she did, but ifa a halftimid way, as if she expected cold water to be thrown on her sympathetic plans and was dodging the shock. “Ted.” after a thoughful silence, relieved her mind by looking at the matter in a different way from her English friend. “You see, Mildred,” he said, “there is a possibility that the woman may have deceived you, but that cuts no figure. There is the child, who, at all odds, needs food, warmth and a doctor, too, who may relieve her some if hot cure her. I will go with you and Eleanor if you want to look her up. It is a miserable neighborhood, but I believe that in charity as well as tn other business, ‘if you want your work done do it yourself, is a first-class maxim. Your father’s influence will easily get the child into a hospital; that you can count on, Mildred." “Oh, yes,” she said, and then looking up in a shame-faced way at Mr. Wilton: “Do you know, Ted, this is the first time in my happy life I ever tried to do anything for anybody? Everything has come to me. I mean to make that child better and her mother happy just for my Christmas present to myself.” There was such an eager, determined expression in her eyes that her sister felt her heart sink with the dread of disappointment for her. “The doctor may not be able to do all you hope, Milly," she said. “You think everything is too late," petulantly replied the girl. “Do you suppose God would grudge one happy • Christmas to that poor woman?” While Mr. Edgar Wilton cast a look of unutterable reproach at the older woman, who had dared to hint that any wish of Mildred's might go astray, it was self-evident that Miss Chesney was a spoilt young lady, and it was also easily discoverable that she had Mr. Ted’s heart In her possession. Mrs. Wilkinson and little Nellie were found in Thatcher’s tenement-house, and to Mildred’s great relief were no imposters. In two days the little girl was transported to a hospital ward in a private hospital and a home found for the mother. But the doctor shook his head as he passed his hand over Nellie’s shrunken, lifeless limbs, and noted her bright'eyes and the scarlet spot on her thin cheeks. “I see that Miss Mildred has set her heart on this,” he said to Mrs. Grepham, when they were alone; “but you had better tell her that my skill would be no avail. Starvation, cold and living I around from one place to another have

done their work. It4s only a questlo of a little time now. As to the paraiysis, I might have bettered her condition some with a chair and some, other appliances, but Miss Chesney found the child just a little too late to save her life.’* When this was told her, Mildred grieved bitterly, and gave up her Christmas work to visit the hospital daily, where an uncomplaining child hugged her first doll to her heart day and night, and the child’s mother, through Mr. Chesney’s influence, hovered near, with patient, sorrowful eyes, like a burdened creature that had learned the futility of a struggle. The same stars that nearly nineteen hundred years ago shone down on the birthplace of the Child of Bethlehem were in the clear Christmas sky when little Nellie reached out with her one useful hand to her mother, who, with the nurse, sat beside her. “Do you hear the bells?” she asked. “What are they for?" “Christmas Day, darling,” she answered. • “And I’ve got & Christmas, too, this time,” the child said, with a faint, contented sigh. Then, jifter awhile, she lobked around as if hunting for something. “My baby,” she cried,.“my pretty, pretty baby; I can’t see at all, mamma; let me feel her; my pretty Christmas baby!” And then the bright eyes closed as the one arm tightly clasped her treasure, and before the bells had ceased their joyful chimes the Christmas stars were looking down out of their eternal stillness upon the face of one of Christ’s little ones. When Miss Chesney came in the morning with her hands filled with • toys for Nellie, they took her to the white cot where the child lay with ’her doll in her arms. Death had stamped such a smile of peace upon her face that even Mildred felt that tears here / < | were out of place. “I meant to make this such a happy Christmas for you, Mrs. Wilkinson," she said, as they stood beside the frail little mortal that had “put on immortality,” “but I was a moment too late.” “Don’t say that, Miss Chesney,” the woman sobbed. “I am not unhappy. It is a good Christmas, for my Nellie will never be cold or hungry or m> , glected any more.” On Christmas Day Mr. Fred Dalgrave, heir to a title, laid himself, title and all, at Mildred Chesney’s feet, so to speak, only to be raised to a standing posture and gently but firmly declined as a Christmas present. On New Year’s Eve Mr. Edgar Wilton came on pretty much the same errand,- without a title, the result of which errand may be surmised when we learn that before they separated for the evening the following took place: “You know what Owen Meredith says, Ted?” Mildred asked. ‘That there Are none so begulled and Defrauded by chance, But what once in his life Some minute circumstance Would have fully sufficed To secure him the bliss Which, missing it then, he Forever must miss. And I’ve made up my mind not to let a ‘minute circumstance’ that can be spelt with three letters stand in the way of my bliss for the want of saying it. In the last few weeks I’ve learned that there is one ‘good gift.’ and I’m going to take it from you, Ted. lest’’—and here she turned a pair of tear-filled eyes up to his face—“l be in my loving - as I was in my Christmas for Nellie’s mother, ‘a moment too late.’ ” And Ted did what most any young man would do where there is a pair of ; pretty, tear-filled eyes close to his mus-tache-kissed them dry and bright again. —a The Original " John Bull.” An English magazine says that the original “John Bull” was Dr. John Bull, the first Gresham Professor of Music, organist of Hereford Cathedral. and composer to Queen Elizabeth. John, like a true Englishman, traveled for Improvement, and, having heard of a famous musician at St. Omer, he placed himself under him as a novice; but a circumstance very soon convinced the master that he was Inferior to the scholar. The musician showed John a song which he had Composed in forty parts—telling him at the same time that he defied all the world to produce a person capable of adding another part to his composition. Bull desired to be left alone, and to be indulged for a short time with pen and ink. In less than three hours he added forty parti, more to the song, upon which the Frenchman was so much surprised that he swore in great ecstasy he must either be the devil or John Bull, which has ever since been proverbial in Eng lapd. . ___ A Railroad Under Water. A railroad through the sea is to be built between Brighton and Rotting- v dean, England, the rails being so near low-water mark that they will be submerged the greater part of the time. There are four rails, the outside ones | being eighteen feet apart, fastened to concrete blocks mortised in bed rock. • On these four-wheeled trucks will run I supporting twelve-inch steel tubes, ini side which dre the shafts that propel ’ the wheelsxW't tubes rise twentyi three feeyi>B , 'J the ra,,s supporting \ J the car, w ill lflw aß a deck 46x22 feet. 1 I The motlTWtf^b? 1 ’ will be electricity : conveyed by the trolley system. * - ' • Besides her plague of rabbits, Aus- 1 , tralja is now threatened with a plague 1 of foxes. These animals, Imported for ! the sport of fox-hunting, have increas- ; ed sb rapidly that a reward is now of- > sered for their capture.