Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 October 1895 — Page 4

THE EGGS THAT NEVES HATCH. There's * too Dp man on the corner, Filled with life and strength and hoi*, Looking far beyond the present, With the whole world in his scope. He is grasping at to-morrow, That phantom none can catch; To-day is lost. He's waiting For the eggs that never hatch. There’s an old man over yonder, With a worn and weary face, With searching, anxious features. And weak, uncertain pace. He is living in the future. With no desire to catch The golden now. He’s waiting For the eggs that never hatch. There’s a world of men and women, With their life’s work yet undone, Who are sitting, standing, moving, Beneath the same great sun; Ever eager for the future. But not content to snatch The present. They are waiting For the eggs that never hatch. —Leisure Hours..

AT NINETEEN AND TWENTYSEVEN.

BY EMMA M. WISE.

Esther Lindsay was nineteen when her first story was published. It was not the first one she had written by any means. Ever since site had been able to form the alphabetical characters and join them legibly her fertile brain had been weaving all sorts of possible and impossible romances, many of which she had forwarded to publishers in various parts of the country, believing with all the fervor of her youthful egotisra that her crude sentiments still more crudely wrought would inspire in some editor’s soul the same faith in her greatness which she herself already possessed.

But somehow her contributions always fell short of the mark of excellence necessary to insure them a favorable consideration, and manuscript after manuscript was returned to iier and was securely locked away in the old drawer of her old fashioned bureau, Which had been dedicated, with a good many tears of disappointment, as a repository for all rejected offerings at the shrine of literature. By the time she was nineteen there were probably a hundred or more of those hapless productions laid away either to be ignominlously forgotten or to be resurrected and revised when her mind should become sufficiently matured to sift out whatever meritorious material there might be in them and use it to good advantage. She worked steadily for more than three mouths on her “Story of the Steamer Kendrick.” One night she, finished rewriting it for the twenty-first time, and the next day she sent it to Jesse Arnold, editor of Ironton Inland Weekly, with a five line note, asking him to read it carefully, and even if lie could not use it to let her know what he thought of it. Of all the editors in the laud she seemed to have chosen him as her most favored target, why she could not have told, for she had no personal acquaintance with him and his letters accompanying returned manuscript had been even more curt and forbidding than those of his brother publishers. But for all that each unhappily ending venture only added fresh fuel to her zeal to secure a foothold among the ranks of the Inland Weekly’s contributors and compel its chief by sheer force of her importunity to acknowledge her developed or potential ability. Her “Story of the Steamer Kendrick” was not a work of genius, but there were phases of the plot that were strong and passages that' were unusually well conceived and executed, and after reading it three times Jesse .Arnold, who was a conscientious editor, decided to keep it. lie accepted it with that feeling of uncertainty with which an insurance man issues a

policy on an extra hazardous risk, and congratulated himself on life shrewdness with equal delight when it turned out to be preferred. The public liked the story, and several critics who condescended to review the Inland Weekly praised it. Perhaps Editor Arnold himself was more fully aware of the glaring absurdities in the piece he had brought out than were any of its readers, and each favorable comment that came to his notice only made them all the more apparent. At last he concluded to write to his unknown literary protege and warn her against certain errors which might be pardoned in a young

author’s first story, but which, if often re- [ peated, would be serious drawback to her advancement in her art. Before he did ' so, however, she sent him another hastily ! written story, and a letter which was a strange jumble of gratitude to him for bringing her before the public, thankful- i ness that she had been so well received, and unstinted expressions of a steadfast belief that she was fairly launched on a sea of success, where wrecks and disasters were an impossibility. In conclusion she hinted that he ought to be eternally grateful to her for allowing him to print a story which would, in all probability, shed lustre round his own reputation as well as her own.

That evening he wrotejhe contemplated letter “You are in danger of being spoiled,” he said in part. “You need advice and I feel that I have the right to address you in tiie capacity of censor. Remember that you are in an up-to-date world and the literature that will live will be the very essence, the embodiment of that world. Visionary, idealistic sketches such as yours may make very good reading, but they are not the true stuff. You have unquestioned ability, but if you wish to succeed you must turn it to the portrayal of living men and women, not the imaginary puppets that you have manipulated for the most

part in your ‘ ‘Story of the Steamer Kendrick.” Take your hero, for instance. It may be quite comforting for a time to come in contact, through the medium of printer’s ink and paper, with an Apollo, a mental Hercules, a spiritual god and a financial Croesus, all combined in one American man, and a New Yorker at that, but I doubt if any of us would relish a closer acquaintance with him; lie would be apt to prove unpalatable. Besides, he would be an excrescence on the human race, and after your second or third story the public would have none of him. So take warning. Make your hero a real man—full of imperfections if need be —and let the gods take care of themselves.”

Esther Lindsay read and reread the editor’s letter. He had not intended to make it unnecessarily pointed or critical, but of all the characters she had ever conjured up her last hero had been the object of her most sincere admiration and the admonition to shun Liim and his ilk touched, her in the most vulnerable spot. “I want that man to understand me,” she said to her mother, after having dreamed.over the contents of the letter for a Couple of nights, ‘ ’and in order to bring that about I am going down to Irpnton to see him, for it would be utterly useless for me jo attempt tO' explain in writing just w l-nt stand iMve ink en on this subject.” H r frniily knew her too well to remon V. ■ » *l m' ?.*.’■

strata against the proposed visit and tbs next morning she took the early train tor Ironton. It was late in the afternoon when she reach ad the office of the Ironton Inland I Weekly. Jesse Arnold was dosing his ' office and she met him just outside the door. She tnquired for him and he stepped back into his paper bestrewn den and motioned her to follow. “I am Jesse Arnold,” he said, in that stiff way which be habitually adopted 1 when addressing strangers. “What is it ' you wish to see me about ?” At his best the editor was not a good looking man, and that day. when he stood between her and the window, where the full beams of tbe evening sun poured in and seemed to exaggerate every defect of , his person from the most upright end of I his short, straight black hair to his disproportionately large feet, he was painfully conscious that his loosely knit body and swarthy complexion never appeared to worse advantage. She took in tbe details of the room and the general make-up of its occupant with one comprehensive sweep of her clear, blue eyes, and then said, simply: ‘‘l am Esther Lindsay. If if does not inconvenience you I should like to talk to you a little while about this last letter you wrote me.”

There was but a trace of his former reserve left and he took her hand impulsively. “I am glad to see you,” he said, with a smile—the best part of Jesse Arnold was his smile— ‘ -are you willing to let me be your doctor and to take my prescriptions j faithfully?” “No,” she said, flushing slightly uuder i his close scrutiny, “I dou’t think I am. I ! dou’t think I cau. You dou’t understand,” she went on earnestly, eneouraged by bis look of friendly interest. “I don’t suppose i there are any men that are absolutely perfect, but I have my ideal of what a man | should be and I put him body and soul ! into my “Story of the Steamer Kendrick.” 11 don’t think that I am over optimistic when I say that 1 believe with all my heart that such men live and that you and I have met them and can point them out.” He shook his head iu quiet coutroverI sion of her theory. She waited a moment 1 for him to speak, then exclaimed irnpaI tieutly: “Well, why dou’t yon say something?” “Because,” he answered, leaning far back in his creaking chair and clasping his hands behind his head, “I see quite ! plainly that whatever argument I may present it will only antagonize you. You may ! know such men as you depict; Ido uot, and my experience has been infinitely more varied than yours. 1 know you will ! not heed me, but I repeat that it will not ; pay to live in a world peopled only by ideals. You must associate with the real. | Take some man of your acquaintance; study him; take human nature for your model, and you will be on the right traek.” ••You have only one view, and, though it may be right, 1 feel as though I should be giving up the best part of myself to I sacrifice my opinion to yours,” she said, ! witli that touch of wisdom she had lately assumed. “Cut I suppose.” she continued, I “that if my stories are up to the standard

you will not decline them on account of that one technicality.” lie smiled again. “No,” he said, “not on that account.” To have onj article printed, even though it be in the ironton Inland Weekly, does not give unquestioned entree into the columns of every other periodical iu the country, and for many months after the appearaued of her first story Esther Lindsay plodded wearily over her literary way, which was an' up-hill, sinuous path. A score of unfortunate tales were added to the unpublished library n the bureau drawer betore she found an outlet for her ideas a second time. Then followed five years of ups aud dowus. No literary aspirant ever had a more jealous guardian than she had in Jesse Arnold. He exulted in every victory she achieved and deplored every defeat she met as keenly as though it had been bis own, and then one day when some unexpected ill-luck made her despair of trying to push ou further iu tbe course she bad mapped out for herself he capped tbe climax of his sympathy and interest by asking iier to marry Idm. It was a surprise to her and she promptly refused him. “I never expected this from you," she said, trying to temper bis dismissal with o kind an upology, “you know me so well! I You may call me a dreamer, an idiot, if you like, but l have mv ideal still, aud unless I find him in real life I shall never ; marry.”

“I’m afraid you will always stay single then,” he rejoined, sharply. “I thought, judging by your latter writing, that you had commenced to hold common sense views on some things, but I snppose I am mistaken. You may chuuge your mind yet.” “You shall never know it if I do,” she flared out, angrily, and that ended the first chapter of their own romance. The outcome of his pre-mutrimonial | venture had been a bitter disappointment Ito Jesse Arnold. He went back to the office of the Irontou luland Weekly and i tried to deaden his grief in the duties aud responsibilities devolving upon the editor in chief of a great publication, and she, realizing something of how deeply she had wounded him, tried to forget her pity for ! him and to work out her salvation, and j him as welt, by writing with renewed enI ergy. Gradually her stories took on a tone of reality aud broad sympathy with humanity, and gradually her merit began

to receive general recognition. She never sent any of her work to the luland Weekly for publication after that one unhappy incident which left the friendship that had I existed between her and its editor partial!ly wrecked, and he only knew her progress through the magazines, to which she had at last become a frequent contributor. He watched with particular interest the evolution of the character of her heroes. The June issue of a well known monthy contained a story that made his pulses throb and quiver with hope and joy. He left the Inland Weekly in charge of a subordinate for a few days, and went down to see Esther Lindsay.

“When you wrote your ‘Story of the Steamer Kendrick’ your hero was the ideal of mankind, was lie not?” he asked as sopn as he could speak to her alone. “Yes,” she said, softly. “And you were determined that if you failed to find such a creation in real life you would never marry?” “Yes,” again. “When you wrote this last story you had evidently experienced a change of heart and mind.” Again the monosyllable reply. “Would you mind telling me where you got your idea of the man therein described?” “No,” she said, defiantly, “not in the least. I painted my imaginary character as I remembered you that day when I first saw you in your office at Ironton. You ought to recognize him; there’s the same crookejl nose, the same unruly hair, the same smile, the same sunlit window at your back. You told me then to make a friend—some one full of imperfections, it might be—and study him and make him ui model for my hero. I have done so.”' Ije leaned forward and looked into her pretty blue eyes. “And is he your ideal?” he asked. “Yes,” she said once more.

THE JOKER’S BUDGET.

JESTS AND YARNS BY FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. Nothing to Point the Way--A Heavy Blow--Proof of It--Out of Hi« Depth, Etc., Etc. NOTHING TO POINT THE WAY. “I don’t see,” said Mr. Maguire, as he sat in the stern of the vessel, “how the captain can find his way across the ocean. If he were going the other way all he’d have to do would be to follow that white streak behind there, but in front there’s nothing to point the way. ”

A HEAVY BLOW. "Henry, you look worried ; what is the trouble?” “I was stung to the quick by an adder this afternoon.” “Heavens! How did it happen?” "Why, I went to the bank this afternoon, and the bank clerk, after adding up the ledger, told me my account was overdrawn.” PROOF OF IT. Nell —Hell seems to be infatuated with Jack Rappide. Bell —Yes, I saw them in a dark corner of the potch last night, and she seemed to bo quite wrapped up in him.—Philadelphia Record. OUT OF HIS DEPTH . They were telling of books that they had read, and the man with the forehead asked what the other thought of the “Origin of Species.” The other said he hadn’t read it. “In fact,” he added, “I'm not interested in linancial subjects.”—Boston Transcript.

PREPARED. FOI! ANYTHING. First Desperado—Bill, is the front gate propped open, aud have you got some red pepper all ready to throw at the dog? Second Desperado—Yes. Go ahead. First Desperado (at front door a few moments later, protected by coat of mail, base ball catcher’s mask, and drum major’s bearskin cap) —I am taking orders, sir, for the Authorized Edition of the Harr-Harvey Debate on the Silver Question, sir.— Chicago Tribune. A NATURAL MISTAKE. City man (mistaking the saw-miller for the farmer) —What kind of boarding can I get at your place? Saw Miller (innocently)—Mostly weather boardin’, but there’s a little floorin’ left over, you kin hev. TRIUMPH. “Ha! ha! hal ha!” laughed the great detective, “I have’em now!” For five days he had been on trail, and had neither eaten nor slept. JJJHe had done nothing but drink. Under the circumstances his joyous assertion that he had 'em bore the similitude of verity.—Detroit Tribune. MONETARY. Ragged Rube—Boss, I just heerd you suyin’ to your friend that you believe in free silver. Mr. Spouter—Well, what of it? Ragged Rube—l hain’t seen nothin’ but copper for a month. Gimme a quarter to get on the silver basis.— Truth. KNEW FROM EXPERIENCE. “I think I’ve a pretty good story here,” remarked the occasional contributor, as ho seated himself and lighted one of the editor’s cigars. The editor glanced over the stor y. “\"es,” he said, "I think this is a pretty good story. I tell it myself occasionally.”

A NECESSARY INFERENCE. Skilton—l don’t have very much confidence in that medical specialist who’s treating me. Hallen —Why, what’s the reason? Doesn’t he seem to understand your case? Skilton —Yes,but ho doesn’t charge me enough.—Chicago Record. THEIR LITERARY ACHIEVEMENTS . “So she rejected Herbert and chose Will.’’ “Yes. They both did their best to please her. She has literary tastes you know, and Herbert sent her a beautifully written volume of poems.” “That should have made a good impression ." “It did. But Will showed her liis carefully edited bank book.’’—Washington Star.

THE DIVISION. “It cost me SSO to ascend Mont Blanc,” said the man who has travelled in Europe. “You know, the law requires that one shall be accompanied by two guides and a porter.” “Oh,” said the man who has travelled in sleeping cars, “$4 to the guides and sl6 to the porter, I suppose?”—lndianapolis Journal.

A KLEPTOPHOTOGRAPHER. He—See that nice looking chap over there? She—Of course I do. Would I miss anything like that? He—Well, you want to watch him ; he’ll take anything in sight. She —Gracious ! Is he a kleptomaniac? f He—No; ho’s an amateur photographer.—Detroit Free Press. YOUNG AMERICA. Irate Father —I can’t understand you giving your mother so much impudence. I never dared talk back to my mother. Henpeck’s Son (with a sneer) —No, you would’t dare talk back to my mother, neither!—Puck. I APPROPRIATE. • Customer —Why, this is a new shade of red. Assistant—Yes, madam. That is the Anarchist tint. Customer—How did it come to get that name? Assistant—lt won’t wash. —Louisville Post. WORTHY SCIONS. “Jack writes that the steamers were so crowded that some of New York's swell set had to come over just as their grandfathers did.” “How does he mean—in sailing vessels?” “No, in the steerage.”—Brooklyn Life.

QUEEN VICTORIA’S CROWN.

Many Gama Make It the Heaviest Diadem in Europa. Queen Victoria’s crown is constructed from jewels taken from old crowns, and other stones provided by her majesty. It consists of emeralds, rubies, sapphires, pearls and diamonds. The stones which are set in gold and silver incase a crimson velvet eap, with a border of ermine, the whole of the interior being lined with the finest white silk Above the crimson border, on the lower edge of the band, is a row of one hundred and twenty nine pearls. Round the upper part of the band is a border of one hundred and twelve pearls. In the front, stationed between the two borders of pearls, is a huge sapphire, purchased by George IV, set in the center of valuable pearls. At the back, in the same position is another but smaller sapphire. The sides are adorned with three sapphires,and between these are eight emeralds. Above and below the sapphires, extending all around the crown, are placed at intervals fourteen large diamonds, the eight emeralds being encircled by a cluster of diamonds, 128 in number. Between the emeralds and sapphires are sixteen ornaments, each consisting of eight diamonds. Above a circular bend are eight sapphires, set separately, encircled by eight diamonds. Betweeen each of the eight sapphires are eight festoons of eighteen diamonds each. In front of the crown is a diamond Maltese cross, in the center of which glistens the famous ruby given to Edward I by Don Pedro the Cruel. This is the stone which adorned the helmet of Henry Vat the battle of Agincourt. The center of the ruby is hollowed out, and the space filled, in accordance with the Eastern custom, with a smaller ruby. The Maltese cross is formed of seventy-five splendid diamonds. At each of the sides and at Lhe back is a Maltese cross with emerald centers, containing respectively 132, 124 and 130 sparkling diamonds. Level with the four Maltese crosses, and stationed between them are four ornaments shaped like the fieur-de-lis, with four rubies in the center, and surrounded by diamonds, containing eighty-five, eighty-six and eighty-seven diamonds. From the Maltese crosses spring four imperial arches, composed of oak leaves and diamonds . The leaves are formed of 728 diamonds; thirty-two pearls represent the acorns and fifty-four diamonds the cups. From the upper part of the imperial arches hang suspended four large pendant shaped pearls set in diamond cups, each cup being formed of twelve diamonds, the stems from each of the twentyfour hanging pearls being incrusted with twenty-four diamonds. Above the arch is the mount, which is made of 438 diamonds. The zone and arc are represented by thirty-three diamonds. On the summit of the throne is a cross, which has for its center a rose-cut sapphire set in the center of fourteen large diamonds. Altogether the crown comprises one large ruby, one large sapphire, twenty-six smaller sapphires, eleven emeralds, four rubies, 1,033 brilliants, 1,273 rose diamonds, four pendant shaped pearls and 278-smaller pearls. It is the heaviest and most uncomfortable diadem of any crowned head in Europe.

Egyptian Colors.

In antiquity, says Cosmos, besides indigo and purple, few colors were employed, and these were obtained for the most part from the vegfctffblb kingdom, but their purity was so great that they have kept well to our own times, ufter having undergone for conturies the action of the air and the sun. The fact is particularly remarkable in the Egyptian tombs; the stone has been disintegrated by weathering, while the colors have been preserved. The color that we meet most frequently is a mixture of reddish brown oxide of iron (red hematite) and clay, known under the name of Pompeiian red. This color, which has resisted for 4,000 years the sun of Egypt and the action of the air, is equally proof against acids. The Egyptians reduced it by rubbing between stones under water to a degree of fineness that we cannot obtain nowadays by chemical precipitation. An equally precious yellow pigment, also much used, was formed of a natural oxide

of iron mixed with much clay, chalk and water, and browned by the action of heat; the mixture of the two colors gives orange. For this yellow color, gold bronze or gold leaf was also employed. For blue thdy used a glass covered with copper minerals ; this pigment was not less permanent than the preceding, even acids having very little effect upon it. Gypsum or plaster of paris furnished white and also formed the basis of pale colors when organic pigments were added to it, probably madder for red. The colors were always thinned and rendered adhesive by means of gums. It is interesting to know, as is proved by inscriptions, thut the artists regarded their colors as imperishuble.

A New Motor.

A queer craft has just made its appearance in the bay at Sau Francisco. It is a wave motor designed to propel itself as a boat and to furnish power for other machines when drawn up to wharves. The inventor is Paul Bribtensteln,'stage carpenter in the Macdonough Theatre at Oakland. Brietenstein spent S6OO and many months in constructing the machine in Oakland Creek, aud brought it out to try it on the hay. It certainly propelled itself. What else it will do remains to be seen when the harbor commissioners give him permission to fasten Ills engine at a wharf and try it on machinery. The wave motor lias side wheels and consists of two flatbottomed, double-end scows fastened together bow and bow by a hinge. When tiie scows rock in the waves the motion is communicated to a lever, which in , turn •loves a flywheel, completing the “nioThe peculiar craft is forty-two feet •ver all, nine feet in beam, drawing but six teed inches.

A Curious New Industry.

A curious new industry is reported from Paris, where the demand for small dogs is being met by rearing pups on an alcoholic diet, which prevents their growth.

HORSELESS VEHICLES.

WE ARE NEARING AN AGE OF MECHANICAL STEEDS. Franc* is Leading the Way - - Horse - less Vehicles in American Cities --Petroleum Wagons. Carriages without horsed hare long l>een popular in France Since 1892 i they have been coming rapidly into ; favor through the invention of a pe- j troleum motor. The recent race from Paris to Bordeaux, in which machines ' adapted by MM. Pauhare and Levas- j sor, of Paris, to carriages of two or four seats competed, has attracted ! the attention, not only of France, but i of America. These carriages, made i after traditional patterns, are driven by means of a motor, which is situated indifferently either at the back ! or in front. The driver jits with a lever ready to his hand, by means of j which the machinery can be set in. motion in a few minutes. Some ex- ; perimenters have proved that two minutes will suffice for a start, and others agree upon five minutes as the : time required. Anyhow, it is a smali affair, even if the horses have a sort of advantage here. But horses, at least, cannot go j backward, at great personal j inconvenience, and after a vast [ amount of manipulation by the j coachman . The petroleum carriage j runs either way without protest. And ! in the matter of speed no mere horse j can approach it. The average speed on good roads recommended by the ! manufacturers is something more than eleven miles an hour, and even greater claims are made for it. The petroleum in these engines is used as a fuel for the production of steam. They are as easily worked as a tricycle, probably easier. A novice, as many witness, is able, upon the first trial, to drive his carriage over two hundred miles in two days of ten hours apiece. Tourists have wan- j dered over half a dozen departments j in them, and the taste is spreading j every day. These vehicles, perfect as they appear to be, will have to give place to j the later devices of electricians. So far those that have been constructed ; have proved too heavy and expensive to find general sale. The batteries alone cost about SSOO. They have undoubted advantages. They are clean, noiseless and require no engineer or skilled operator, resembling in this respect the trolley j and the cable car. But the excessive load of the batteries and the lack of facilities for recharging them will prohibit their use outside of large cities for some time to come. Supplies of petroleum and gasoline are to be obtained in any town. The j petroleum vehicles are light, more i convenient in running, and also re- J quire no engineer. For these reasons ; they must fake the precedence for j ordinary use until- the ingenuity of j the Yankee has overcome the obsta- J cles that elecricity presents. Take, j for instance, the electric wagon of the ! Boston inventor. It is heroic in its ■ proportions, resembling an English ; brak>e in general design, and is built! to outlast the “wonderful one-hoss; shay.” It weighs 5,100 pounds, and j is undoubtedly the heaviest motor wagon on the continent, rivaling in

weight the steam omnibuses of Paris. The general design of the j vehicle is well adapted to the pur-1 pose. [The batteries contained in j the body and under the irontseat are | extremely powerful, consisting of forty-four chloride cells, with a total capacity of two hundred ampere hours, and an average discharge rate of twenty-five amperes. The motor yields four horse power and three different speeds are obtained, the minimum being four and the maximum fourteen miles an hour. The owner has put this carriage through the paces in hill climbing and over! heavy roads with most satisfactory j results.

An electrical wagon in use in Philadelphia lius run several hundred miles without an accident. As compared with petroleum vehicles it is rather ponderous, weighing 4,250 pounds. The batteries weigli 1,600 pounds and consist of sixty chloride accumulators, having a maximum : capacity of thirteen horse power. From fifty to one hundred miles, can be accomplished on one charge, according to grade and speed, and the maximum speed attainable is fifteen miles an hour. The motor, weighing 800 pounds, is of nominal three horse power electric launch i type, capable of developing for a short time nine full horse power. Steering is accomplished by means | of a wheel in front of the driver. j The first electric wagon ever seen near New York has appeared in Brooklyn. It came from the west and is the invention of two residents of Kansas City. It weighs about 8,000 pounds and as at present constructed has but one seat. Eighteen hundred pounds of storage batteries of the choloride accumulator type furnish the power, which is communicated to the wheels by a rawhide friction pulley running on a steel

flange attached to the inside of the rear wheels. When desired, an au-1 tomatic lever detaches the power from the driving wheel without stopping the motion of the motor. On ordinary good roads a speed of fifteen or eighteen miles an hour can be obtained and for ascending hills a reserve of twelve horse power can be drawn upon. A run of fifty miles can be made with one charge of the 1 batteries. Lock Haven, Pa., is also a claimant for honors in this direction. This wagon is intended for hotel service. The seats run lengthwise, and under them are stored the batteries, eight cells in all, four on each side. Though so few in number, these cells are said by the inventor to have sufficient capacity to run the wagon fifteen days of nineteen hours each, recharging themselves from a generator of ten sixteen candle-power 1 ghts. The motor develops three horse power, geared to,equal six. The vehicle weighs 1,000 pounds, and is said to carry 8,000 pounds. The rubber tires with which it is lifted increase the comforts of riding. When the wagon stops or is running down hill the generator returns the used up current to the batteries, thus economizing power. It is claimed that on a good road a speed of twenty-five milos an hour can be '.reached, and the project is on foot to

epply the invention to fire and police p»teol wagons, hotel omnibuses and pleasure wagons. A light and graceful buggy propelled by a gasoline motor has, for three months past been traversing the streets of Springfield and adjacent country.

FRUIT AS FOOD.

Ripe Fruits are Digestible and Nourishing. Eve is said to have seen that fruit was good for food. Every generation since has indorsed her opinion, and now perhaps more than ever before the world is waking up to see how good a food it really is. Good ripe fruits contain a large amount of sugar in a very digestible form. This sugar forms a light nourishment, which, in conjunction with bread, rice, etc., form a food especially suitable for these warm colonies, and when eaten with milk or milk and eggs, the whole forms the most perfect and easily digestible food imaginable. For stomachs capable of digesting it fruit eaten with pastry forms a very perfect nourishment, but I prefer my cooked fruit covered with rice and milk or custard . I received a book lately written by a medical man advising people to live entirely on fruits and nuts. lam not prepared to go so far—by the way, he allowed some meat to be taken with it—for, although I look upon fruit as an excellent food, yet I look upon it more as a necessary adjunct than as a perfect food of itself. Why for ages have people eaten apple sauce with their roast goose and sucking pig? Simply because the acids and pectones in the fruit assist in digesting the fats so abundant in this kind oi food. For the same reason at the end of a heavy dinner we eat our cooked fruits, and when we want their digestive action even more developed we take them after dinner in their natural, uncooked state as dessert.

In the past ages instinct has taught men to do this; to-day science tells them why they did it, and this same science tells us that fruit should be eaten as an aid to digestion of other foods much more than it is now. Cultivated fruits such as apples, pears, cherries, strawberries, grapes, etc., contain on analysis very similar proportions of the same ingredients, which are about eight per cent, of grape sugar, throe per cent, of pectones, one per cent, of malic and other acids, and one per cent, of flesh-forming albuminoids, with over eighty per cent, of water. Digestion depends upon the action of pepsin in the stomach upon the food, which is greatly aided by the acids of the stomach. Fats are digested by these acids and the bile from the. liver. Now, the acids and pectones in fruit peculiarly assist the the stomach. Only lately even royalty has been taking lemon juice in tea instead of sugar, and lemon juice has been prescribed largely by physicians to help weak digestion, simply because these acids exist very abundantly in the lemon.

Marriage Ceremony in Sweden.

Although Cupid runs riot in all climes, his ways and means differ. And to those foreign to the country some of the marriage ceremonies would hardly seem in keeping with so sacred and solemn a service . In Sweden and Norway the bride is dressed in her wedding garments and placed in the middle of the room,surrounded by a circle of bright lights. Thtfn the villagers enter and, walking around the bride, audibly comment upon her appearance, character, and prospects. Occasionally some young fellow will say: “Well, she’s to be married at last. About time, I think. It’s the- first offer she’s had since I jilted her.’’ “ Yes,” another one will interject, “ I pity the man who will marry her.’’ “But doesn’t she look old though?’’ a third will add; and this running lire is kept up for an hour or so. But all is patiently borne by the bride. Finally everyone is ordered out of the room, and then the wedding cereis performed . When it is finished a tin dish is placed before the bride, and what is known as the “cradle tax’’ is collected. Her father places a banknote and two silver i spoons in the dish, and the guests all contribute money or silver gifts. Then a procession forms, which escorts the bride and groom to their | home, each person carrying a lighted | candle. Then it’3 all over, and, like the good old fairy tales, they live happily ever afterwards, at least let us hope so.

A Golden Shower.

The manufacturers of clocks have not been so busy at any time during several years past as they are at present; the factories devoted to the production c ft silver-plated ware are running full time, with large complements of operatives; the watch manufacturers have this year given their hands shorter vacations than usual, and are increasing their already large forces ; the jewelry manufacturers of Providence, New York, Newark and other centers are running their factories to their utmost capacity ; tho importers of art good?, pottery and bric-a-brac are receiving immense shipments of goods; makers of cut glass are producing many new patterns and are working every frame in their plants. Thus the anticipation of a golden shower during the fall season, says the Jewelers’Circular, is evident throughout the manufacturing branches of our industry, and that the manufacturers will not be disappointed all signs indicate.

An Electric Flag.

It is stated that an electric novelty in the shape of a standard intended for night use has just been delivered from the Kiel dockyard to the German imperial yacht Hohenzollern, The flag is four meters square, and the design is traced in colored electric lamps, which are lighted by wir6 from the deck. An experimental illumination proved very successful, and gave the utmost satisfaction to the spectators.

LOST HIS NERVE.

After This Affair Wild Jim Waa ■ Changed Man. A score of us saw the man as he came cantering into the frontUr town on his cayuse, aad more than one remarked how singular it was that he was unarmed. He hitched his horse to a post In front of the Big Elk saloon, and bad just disappeared within the door of the shanty when a man came running up and exclaimed: •‘Boys, that's the sheriff over at Deadwood. and he's come for Wild Jim!” t\’e crowded into the saloon to see what would happen. There were five men playing poker at one table and three at another. One of the men was Wild Jim, who was wanted for murder. On entering the place the sheriff had backed up against the bar and faced the players. Wild Jim had leaped to his feet and pulled a gun with either hand, and the other players leaned back and looked around to see what was going on. “After me, Joe,” queried Wild Jim as he stood with guns presented. “Yes'’

“Going to take me dead or alive ?” “Yea.” “You can’t take me alive, and if you move a hand I’ll drop you!” The sheriff smiled and looked around the room and back at Wild Jim and queried: “How does the game stand, Jim ?” “I've just dealt a hand.” “All right—finish it.” " Wild Jim sat down and took five minutes to play out the hand. Then he looked up and said: “Sure you want me, Joe ?” “Dog sure.” “Jest come for me ?J' “Jest for you.”* “Then I’m goin’ to kill you where you stand I” He raised the gun in his right hand and blazed away, firing six shots as fast as his finger could pull trigger. The sheriff never moved. When the smoke had roiled out of the open door and we could see him he stood in the same position and his face wore the same smile. One bullet had burned his cheek—a second had grazed his ear—a third had cut through his shirt collar under the left ear. Wild Jim was a dead shot, and yet he had missed his mau at fifteen feet.

“Got through, Jim?” asked the sheriff, breaking a silence that was positively painful. “And you—you are not heeled!” gasped Jim as his arm sunk slowly down. “No—come on 1” "You didn't bring your guns?” “No. If yop are through shooting we’ll go?” Jim laid his two guns down on the table before him and walked to the door and out into the street. His horse was tied to a post a block away. He reached the horse, mounted, and then headed down the long street after the sheriff, who was giving him not the slightest attention. In live minutes the pair were out of sight. “What ailed Jim?” I asked of the barkeeper, who had come to the door of the saloon. “Lost his nerve,” he brusquelyjreplied. “How do you mean?” “ Why, the sheriff coming without a gun and standing there to be shot at took all his sand away and made a woman of him.” “Suppose the sheriff had had a gun?” The man jerked his head toward the field wherein fifteen or twenty victims had been buried and said: “ He’d a-bin over tliar’ 1 ” “ And will Wild Jim get clear? ” “ Likely, but he’ll liev to leave here. The boys hev already put him u'xw'o as N. G. ” Ac his trial for murder in Deadwood Wild Jim was discharged from custody, but he went forth a changed man. No man took him by the hand —all men avoided him. Two weeks later he was found dead in Custer City—a victim of suicide.

Japan's Ex-Tycoon.

It may interest some people to know that the ex-Tycoon, of Japan, the last of the Tokugama dynasty—the last of the fierce Shoguns who ruled the country for so many years with mailed hand—is still living. His home is at Shiznoka- He is now in the sixties, and he leads a sort of hermit life. lam informed that he receives very little company and is practically inaccessible to strangers. Formerly he visited Tokyo occasionally. No political disability rests upon him, as he voluntarily abdicated all power during the revolution of 1868. He takes no part in public affairs whatever. His chief pastime is hunting, though he is growing rather old for that. This man is the son of that Tycoon, who received and treated with Commodore Perry in 1854. He came to the throne a few years after that important event. What changes he has seen ! What mighty results he has noted as a sequence of that simple introduction of Japan to the now world of the far West! Not long ago the ex-Tycoon, while hunting, - accidentally shot and severely injured one of the poor farmers of his neighborhood. The affair worried him greatly, and he has of late shown a disposition to give up the chase altogether.

Some Small Kingdoms.

Monaco is probably the smallest kingdom in Europe. It has an area of only eight square milos and a permanent population of 18,000 people. It boasts a “sovereign prince” named Albert, but is more noted for the famous gambling den at Monte Carlo than for anything else. Liechstein, between the Tyrol and Switzerland, is another tiny European kingdom. Its area is sixty-one miles and its population, about 10,000. The state owes a tremendous debt of £5,280, but could pay its debt off any time, as its revenue amounts to SII,OOO a year. San Marino is a tiny republic of thirtythree square miles—about a quarter the size of London—up in the hills near Rimini, on the east coast of Italy. The population is 8,000, and most of the men are dukes or generals iq the army.