Democratic Sentinel, Volume 20, Number 24, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 June 1896 — Page 4

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CHAPTER XXV—(Continued.)

“Papa,” she began, “you must not let your bad fortune weigh yon down. Listen; I know yonr chief cause of sorrow in It all is, that you wanted to do certain things for me. Is It not so?” A mute kiss was the only reply. “Very well,” she pursued, nestling up to his side. “When one way fails, we must try another, and the new way is often better than the old. Now, don’t speak till you have heard. You wanted to do something great and magnificent for me. Well, now, it turns out most luckily that there is something that you can do for me —now, this very day—far, far more welcome to me than any quantity of money you could possibly have won at Goodwood and poured into my lap; since this is an act that will give me instant relief and peace, while the hundreds or even thousands. I really do not want one bit.” “I’m sure I am only too glad,” rejoined Harding, “to hear there is any service I can render you.” “You know, my own darling papa, that Cyril Acton, about a fortnight ago, made me a proposal of marriage ” The father's face brightened instantly. He broke in: “I do. You hesitated, but now find you love him, and would ask my consent to yonr union. Ah, little girl, have I not guessed? Eh, eh?” And he began to fondle and caress her. She rose to her feet “Oh, papa, how wrong you are!” Her tone and manner, more than her words, made him turn instantly grave. “Wrong!” “Yes. Oh, he told me how you wished it, and all that. I said at once, and forever: ‘No, no, no,” most emphatically.” “But why?” “Oh, I gave him good reasons. I was kind, too; thanked him, owned I was flattered; showed him. I assure you, every consideration. But I urged, begged him, as nothing could ever change me, to promise never to return to a subject it would pain me very deeply to reopen. He absolutely refused to promise, but by returning to his old, brotherly manner, had led me to believe I was safe from further annoyance. I respected him for this. We are dull here. I always liked him as a comfort in his softe?y, when he marred all. Oh, papa, I feel I can never look on him as anything again—l mean not as a gentleman—not even as a man. Te renewed his suit last Monday evening, in a sudden, confident way that—that made my flesh creep. Oh, father, I—l hate him; if it is wrong, forgive me, but I do, and he deserves it!” And, exhausted by her tirade, she sank down tearless, but quivering, upon the bench. < Cave took her hand.

“Come, come,” he began, very quietly. "Am I not here? Nobody, if he were fifty Cyril Actons, shall annoy my little girl. There, there; we are alone. He is not by. You shall never see him again, if you prefer it” “I begin to fear,” she broke in, “it is mere outward varnish, after all. I have watched his face sometimes of late, when he little thought it and I have seen expressions there that startled me and made me ahudder. I cannot describe them, but at such moments—well, he was not the Mr. Cyril Acton the world knows so favorably, I assure you.” When a man is about to appeal to the best feelings of another to save himself from disgrace and ruin, it is hardly the moment to welcome anything that can disparage the said friend. Still Cave Harding loved his child very passionately ip his ovyn weak way, as I have often endeavored to show. So, without joining in with her in any words of even conditional prejudice to Cyril, he repeated his expressimts of Jove and protection with increased heartiness. » ‘‘You cannot tell,” at length said Camilla, “what immense good and comfort this long talk has been to me. I have marked lately in this man a sort of cold, patient confidence most alarming to me. Now I feel sheltered, even against any secret weapon which he may have against my peace.”

CHAPTER XXVI. Acton appeared later in the day, feeling pretty sure that father and daughter had “had it out,” as he put it, that morning, and in his character of one who always made things as smooth and easy as he could, he proposed a ramble through the woods. Knowing Cave's weak nature as he did, he preferred getting him away from such influence as Camilla’s very propinquity might still exert over his paternal feelings. The day being sultry, they bent their course through the dark woods, exchanging for a while the merest nothings, Cave being too glad to defer, even for a few minutes, the painful plunge; Acton, secure in having the game in his hands, and determined not to spare his victim the disadvantage of attack. At length poor Harding saw this, and, after a brief silence, and heaving a sigh, he began: "■Well, I’ve had an awful week!” "Ah, so I feared. At the first glance I thought you did not look as if you had won much.” “Won! Don’t talk of it; I am cleaned out.” Then he broke forth into the whole history of Jemmy Kite and Artillery. “But why,” asked Cyril at the end, “why did you come away in such a hurry? A last bold plunge for liberty on the Friday has saved many a sportsman.” “H’m, ah!” said Harding, looking very sheepish, “I—l found—fact is, it got wind in the ring, and—a—among my friends, that I had been uncommon hard hit, and —in short—l couldn’t get any one to take me.” “To bet with you, you mean?” "Wfiy!” exclaimed the wretched man, turning livid at the thought. “I tell you I have lost thousands. Here, do you mind sitting down on this fallen tree? I I am not strong to-day.” And as he struck it with his cane he added: “I wish I was like it, dead and gone!” “Come, come, old friend,” rejoined Acton, putting his hand on his shoulder, “you don’t mean that! Think of your daughter. What, man, you have often been hard hit before.” “But never like this, never like this,” and he buried his face In his hands as he •at and fairly sobbed. “Oh, my honor,” be gasped, “my honor, my child’s honor!” “Nonsense, nonsense, friend,” said Acton, “I cannot bear to see you like this. Ton most make no ceremony, but dip again into my purse. You know I am vfeb and frugal; I can well afford to help ion." “Ton are the noblest of men,” ex-

BY JEAN MIDDLEMAS.

claimed Camilla's father, seising the other's hand in a burst of unfeigned gratitude; “but why—why should I thus abuse your generosity? Why should you be thus to me more than a brother, a son—you who are no relation? Oh, I feel such a wretch to allow it!” Then, with sudden energy, he almost shouted through the leafy silence: “No. it shall not be! Let me fly, broken and disgraced. I have brought all on myself. I alone will suffer!’ “You cannot,” said Cyril, still seated, “you cannot suffer alone. Y’our disgrace involves that of Camilla.” Although Harding had been alluding to her a moment before, her name on her suitor’s lips now wrought in him an instant change; and even the astute young man who gazed at him could not read what was passing in his mind. To Cave’s candid nature it had never dawned—nor did it now—that Cyril Acton would dream or making his pecuniary aid conditional upon Camilla's yielding him her hand. He now resumed his seat and said very simply; “I had forgotten. My own troubles are so overwhelming I forgot every one else. Forgive me. I fear I shall wound and pain you. I have very bad news. I had a long talk to-day with my little girl, and —and —l find she —she prefers not to marry.”

In thus understanding the case, the poor man was ruled solely by his desire to spare the lover’s feelings. "Oh!” said Acton, quietly. He was thoroughly prepared for what was coming. The other went on. “Yes—she has asked me to tell you this. Poor child, she is very weak and ill. and showed quite an unaccountable degree of agitation. I could not make it out So absurd, you know, as if anybody would think of coercing her.” “As you say, absurd,” replied Cyril in the tone of a man discussing the weather. I cannot coerce her, and of course you wilj not.” “It is most unfortunate,” pursued Cave, “for I had set my heart on having you for a son-in-law; but I see there is not the faintest hope. It is kinder to put you out of suspense.” The young man was silent for some mom.Mts, seemingly plunged in deepest thought. Presently he said: “The best of dealing with a man so intelligent as yourself is that one is quite sure to be understood, even when what one feels compelled to say might shock or disgust anybody incapable of weighing difficult and subtle facts. Now, listen calmly until I have done.” Here he laid a hand upon his arm. “What is our common object? Your daughter’s recovery, her happiness 7’ Cave nodded.

“Very well, then we must look at the ease boldly—like men. Harding, she can be saved; but only in one way. As it is, she is dying. Do not heed that, for I repeat we can save her. But, left to herself, she will sink rapidly to the grave—she owns it—she has told me so. Now, were you to force her to marry me—supposing you could drag her to the altar —why, that would kill her too.” “Then what is to be done?” “I am coming to it. It is quite certain —I have taken the highest opinions—that if, as my willing bride, I could take her to the South of Europe, the total change of scene and of ideas—of plans and hopes, would make a new being of her. She would live.” “A willing bride, yes. There is the impossibility.” “I?ot al all. It is now that I want you to exert all your acumen. You must tell her the full amount of your losses, describe your helpless condition, paint in strong, true colors what will be said of you at Tattersalls and by the world at large, if you do not pay.” “My dear Cyril, what good can this possibly do?” “Can’t you guess? Then I must dot my i’s plainly. Tell her, then, that I have pledged you my word of honor, my solemn word, as I now do, that not one farthing will I ever give or lend you, until she, Camilla, swears, do you hear, swears

to be my wife.” Harding almost with a bound—as though struck by a bullet—jumped up. Here was the cloven foot put forth too plainly for even his weak, indulgent eyes not to see it, however nicely the fiend who owned it had covered it over with immaculate wool. “Ask my child to sell herself, and for me! For my crimes,” he almost shrieked. “Remember she is dying. Had any other lips framed such a plan I would strike the speaker across the face.” And as Harding spoke he looked the very personification of anger. “Nothing else can save her,” said Cyril with conviction. “Well, let heaven take her,” exclaimed the father. Then: “Do you not see how contemptible a figure I should make in putting before my child a plan so palpably to my own advantage?” “Shall I do it?” said the tempter.

CHAPTER XXVII. It was not often that Cyril Acton found himself very wrong in his calculations, and the failure of his sophistries upon Camilla’s unhappy father astonished as well as enraged him. At more than one opportunity after the scene in the wood did Cyril attempt to shake him; but the most he could obtain was a consent to remain on a friendly footing with Acton, but forbade him ever again to plead his suit with Camilla. Cave wrote up town, to one of his few remaining friends, to ascertain for him on the Monday what he might hope for in the way of delay before being “posted” as a defaulter, a thing which had never happened to him yet in the whole of his checkered career. The friend was well chosen, being both zealous and influential; but a week was all he could obtain, and that only by pleading that Harding was ill —a statement quite justified by fact. Day rapidly succeeded day, bringing the wretched man nearer to that fatal Monday week after Goodwood, when he knew his disgrace must be known to the world. Acton was not the man to accept defeat at any price while he saw a chance of victory, however remote. It was upon his well-founded estimate of the nobility of Camilla’s character that he still dared to build his hopes—certainly po mean foundation. As he lay awake each night, devoured by his passion, till early morning, he matured the plan of his last attack and finally determined it should be made on the Thursday, the Thursday of course that is in the week after Goodwood. On

that evening he would leave a letter with CamllU Like though ia * Car greater degree, Cave suffered from sleeplessness, but without the palliative hope. At breakfast on this Thursday his worn—even livid—appearance, called foVth the anxious comments of both the ladies, and on being pressed to say if he felt worse than usual, he admitted that he did so, and added that be should presently run over by train to Birmingham, and see a doctor. That plan he carried out, but his ostensible errand, as will be seen, was not the real or even the principal motive of his journey. Soon after he had started it occurred to Acton that an interview with Camilla, which should hare all the appearance of being unpremeditated, might serve him better than his contemplated epistle to her. At any rate he would make the attempt, and he accordingly walked leisurely across the fields after his early Arcadian repast, strolling in through the open door window of the drawing room at Slirermead just as the dial in front of it marked midday. There he found Camilla alone. “Good day, Camilla.” he said, just touching her hand, “can I see your father r He knew very well that Cave had gone and whither, but he wanted to let the girl believe he did not come for her. “My dear father has gone over to Birmingham tp see a doctor,” and the tears came and put out the fire of her eyes. “Did he say anything to you laat night about his health? He looked dreadful as he went away.” “N—no, nothing particular.” “Do tell me if he did. O, I would far rather know the worat.” “I —I do not think he is very ill.” “Then why does he look like that?” “Well, if I know any of his secrets. I am bound in honor to respect them. However, you—everybody—must see he is very unhappy.”

“Poor darling papa! About money?" “Well, yes, about money.” “Why in the world,” thought Camilla, “do you not help him. then?”—ahe had, of course, all a young girl’s contempt for that article —“you who call yourself his friend.” “It isn’t,” pursued Cyril, “exactly that he cannot get the sum he requires—I need hardly say it is to pay his Goodwood losses next Monday—but he will not draw it from the only source at his command.” “But why not? Debts of honor must be paid.” He flashed round upon her at those words. “Fear of injuring others—a—a mistaken fear,” and he affected to be going. “Stay," exclaimed Camilla, “who ia he afraid of harming? Can it be myself? But I have no fortune, no one else's money is in his power.” “I have already said too much,” and again he moved away. “Tell me, at least, one thing more. I see that you think my father is in great mental agony—perhaps on the verge of despair—of madness.” The young man made no sign to reassure "her. “Say, is it in the power of me—his child —(q help him?” “That is just the subject on which my lips are sealed. Honor and delicacy close them alike. Perhaps if you appeal to him —but no, he would never tell you; still you might stumble on the truth—Oh, he has forbidden me to breathe it tj you!” And, with the air of one who, under great excitement and temptation, is yet a very slave to his conscience, Acton strode from the room. Nor did he -cappear that day at Silvermead. He hat*, as he intended, left his victim on the rack. It was sweet to him to ponder that his words had once more acquired weight and thrilling interest to her ears. He plucked a honeysuckle as he crossed the garden, and held it voluptuously to his nostrils, even as he reveled in the idea. “There is just one chajice for me,” he said. “To-morrow, if I augur rightly, the die of my fate will be cast.” (To be continued.)

At Any Cost.

In wrath and tears Edith Howlett had gone to bed. She had been tucked In once, given a drink twice, kissed good-night three times and the lamp had - been extinguished, but the spark of rebellion still burned in her childish soul. “Mamma,” she cried. “Go to sleep, Edith,” her mother said, sternly; “I shall not come in there again!” “I want a drink, mamma,” Edith pleaded. “You’ve had two drinks already. Now go to sleep.” There was a brief silence, and then Edith tried again. “Mamma, come and kiss me goodnight.” “You’ve been kissed good-night, dear, and I shall not come in again, so go to sleep at once like a good girl.” There was another pause, while the lonely child cudgeled her little brain for a new expedient. “Mamma,” she cried, a last, “please come In; I’m so hungry.” “You cannot have anything to eat tonight, and if I come in there again,” the mother said, with rising color, “it will be to give you a good spanking!” There was a longer pause, and just as it began to look as if the evening’s battle w r ere over the child’s voice was heard again. “Mamma,” she pleaded, “I’m so lonely in here. Please come in and spank me.”—Harper’s Magazine.

Woman Suffrage In California.

“It would not at all surprise me,” says a California man, “to see California added to the list of woman’s suffrage States inside the next year. A perfectly organized campaign has Just been opened to secure the adoption of an amendment to the State constitution next fall, giving women the right to vote, and making ability to read and write one of the requirements of a voter. Work along this line was begun in real earnest last summer, when the woman’s congress was held In San Francisco. A careful canvass was made of the counties of the State, fiftytwo in number, and the dissemination of literature and speechmaking has been going on ever since. California has always shown a liberal spirit toward women, and they have now almost every right the men have, except the right of suffrage.”

An Aged Walnnt Tree.

In the Baidar Valley, near Balaclava, in the Crimea, there stands a walnut tree, which must be at least 1,000 years old. It yields annually from .80,000 to 100,000 nuts, and is the property of five Tartar families, who share its produce annually.

A Ceylon Spider.

Ceylon has a spider which spins a yellow web, the threads of which are almost as large as buttonhole twist. Its webs are often from six to eight feet across.

ARTIFICIAL FLOWERS.

fashions in hats boom a new YORK INDUSTRY. Yhs Present Style of Feminine Headgear and Its Effect on Butiness-—How the Flowers Are Mads. Fashion has ordained that women shall wear an abundance of artficlal flowers on their hats. It is a popular style, as you may observe by strolling through the shopping districts on any bright day. The artificial flower manufacturing Industry has been extensively pursued in this city, but this year it has a boom, It Is carried on particularly in the great wholesale millinery district, north of Grand Street, on Broadway, and the streets west of It. The people engaged in It are mostly French, Germans and Italians who, considering the skill demanded by the artistic nature of their work, are very poorly paid. In fact, artificial flower-makers are among the most unfortunate of artisans, as they are chiefly dependent for employment upon the caprices of fashion. Now that flowers are so extensively used in decorating hats they have more work than they can do; but next year flowers may give place to plumes and birds’ wings and their occupation will be gone for a time at least. A visit to a manufactory where artificial flowers are made reveals many novelties. The materials used are muslin. French cambric, satin, silk and velvet. The first process is to cut these fabrics Into leaves and petals. This work is done exclusively by men. In a long, narrow room in the rear of the building occupied by the factory, I found on a recent tour about a dozen artisans standing at board tables working industriously with cutting knives and heavy mallets. The knives are shaped like chisels, furnished at one end with blades of various formation, and at the other with a straight iron handle. For every leaf and flower there Is a different cutting knife. The blades of one may be shaped to cut out Ivy leaves, of another daisies, of a third violets, and so on.

Before each workman was a large slab of lead, upon which was placed the material folded into many thicknesses. With a powerful blow of the mallet the cutting knife was driven clean through the fabric into the lead. These blows were repeated with marvelous quickness and regularity. The mallets rose and fell as if operated by machinery, making such a deafening clamor as to render conversation among the workmen impossible. I was told that the workman, who, from a piece of material of given size, could cut out the most flowers with the least waste was accounted the most skilled and received the highest wages. The cutters in this factory are paid from $9 to 112 a week. I observed that as the leaves and peals fell from the cutting knives they were pushed aside into seperate boxes according to their form. Whenever a box was filled, an empty one was substituted In its place. The leaves came from the cutting knife perfect in formation, but without any of the veins that are characteristic of the natural leaf. These must be impressed upon it. This is done by means of an iron press operated by hand on the screw lever principle. A bunch containing twenty or thirty leaves, is placed in a mould underneath the press. Then the handles of the press are turned slowly round until the stamp that fits the mould is screwed down Into place, leaving its impress of veins upon all the leaves. In this factory the presses are all operated by women, who receive $5 a week for their services. It was not until I entered the dyeing room and saw the third process of artificial flower making that I began to realize the artistic nature of the work. On a long board table stood two or three dozen pots containing a variety of brilliant colors that had been carefully prepared by the dyer. One pot was filled with a delicate purple liquid intended to give the exact hue to the fabric that had been cut out for violets. “Bee,” said the dyer approaching me and holding out a bunch of natural violets for my inspection, “have I not caught the exact shade of coloring that characterizes these little flowers?” In truth he had. One might easily have believed that the flowers he held In his hand had received their exquisite

colored from the dye in the pot. “Some dyers trust to their memory in mixing colors,” he continued, “but I never do that. I procure specimens of natural flowers whenever it is practicable, and mix my dyes until they exactly correspond with them in shade. “It is necessary to soak the material in alcohol first,” said the dyer further, “in order that it may the more readily absorb the color and allow it to penetrate through every piece. Again, when I dip the pieces into the dye I press my thumb and forefinger together. This prevents the color from reaching the center of the pieces, and results in the same gradual shading, from deep purple at the rim of the petals to white at the heart of the flower, which is characteristic of the natural bloom.” But all flowers cannot be shaded thus easily he explained. Take the pansy for example, the petals of which are marked by sharp contrasts of color. In another room I was shown how these were produced. Several men were busily working, a palette in one hand and a delicately-pointed paint brush In the other, putting little dabs of purple and yellow on petals of muslin cut into the shape of pansies. The petals had already received a ground coloring of dye and one or two deft strokes of the brush was sufficient to produce the effect desired. The artists worked with surprising rapidity—a dash here, a dab there, and the eye of the pansy stood revelled. Other artists were engaged in painting yellow centers on white star flowerse and two, more skillful than the rest, were giving delicate gradations of shading to the petals of roses. I was told that the rose is the most expensive artificial flower that is made. It cannot be produced by following a common model, as Is the case with most other flowers, but every single bud or bloom must be a distinct creation in itself. From the bud just appearing to the full-blow r n flower there is an infinite variety of forms. Fine artificial roses, made in this country, cost from $6 to sl2 a dozen; but there

are some imported rarities that ai% worth from sls to $25 a dozen. A first class dyer of flowers is paid from S2O to S3O a week, while the artists that pat on the finishing touches receive from sl2 to S2O, according to their proficiency and experience. Having received their proper colorings and shadings, the bits of muslin, cambric and other materials that are to be made into flowers are subjected to various processes of crimping, curling and starching. In the room set apart for I this work about 50 women and girls : were at work fluting curling the petals ; in imitation of the irregularities to be ' found in natural flower*. Next came the last process of all—that of arranging the leaves and petals into the forms of wreaths and flowers and attaching them to stems. The room set apart for this work is the largest in the factory. There are fully 100 women and girls employed in it. In the arrangement of the petals and in variation of form, the artisians often displayed a refined taste and discrimination which showed that they possessed a genuine love for their trade. Although they were paid by work, and might consequently be expected to hurry through their task,they frequently devoted time to a rose they had in hand in order to give it a few extra, touches that would add to its naturalness and beauty. Of course their employers could not object to this, as the more finished the flower the higher the price it will bring.

FACTS ABOUT THE SHAH.

H# Had Pearls By the Quart and 700 Female Servants. The title of the new Shah is clear as it can be. He is the eldest son of a wife of royal blood. The sons of Esthers—that is to say. of women of mean birth —are of no more account now than they were in the days of Artaxerxes. Presumably the Shah Just proclaimed has found a vast fortune hoarded up by Nasr-ed-Din. M. Diamanti, ex-European Secretary to the late Shah’s Foreign Office, has been giving at Paris some information about Persia as it now stands. Nasr-ed-Din’s three eldest sons are highly educated. The eldest cannot possibly be a rival of the second; neither can the third. All the other children are Just as well educated. They may be a source of strength to the throne, but that is to be seen.

The royal palace is called the Ark. The treasures heaped up in it are of incredible richness. One secs there enameled pictures on gold tablets of great size. The diamonds, rubies and pearls are of unheard-of splendor, and in such quantities that one sees in the presses where they are kept European decanters and tumblers filled with them. The late Shah liked them to be in transparent vessels, so that he could rapidly see if the bulk was notably diminished by a thief. He had a big aquarium glass case filled witn nothing but carefully sorted pearls of the finest Orient lustre. Side by side with these treasures lay tawdry “articles de Paris,” hardly good enough for a charity bazaar. The enameled paintings on gold had between them cheap German chromo-lithographs. The women’s part of the palace accommodated 800 souls. There were about 700 Servants, but a great number were engaged in fine needlework, distilling essences, and making confectionery. They were very clean. However, all, from highest to lowest, ate the mutton and rice ragout with their fingers. They sat on their heels in circles around low tables on which the dish Mas set. The Shah sat alone. He often gave European dinners, at which he sat, but of which he never partook. He was a ferocious monarch if he had to find fault, but a constant friend, and patronized merit M'herever he found it The Sisters of Charity were generously, patronized by him. He allowed their convent at Teheran a yearly stipend. Dr. Tholosan for thirty-five years enjoyed the Shah’s confidence. He never asked for anything for himself, but was forward to ask for others. The mosque where the monarch was murdered is connected by a light railtvay with Teheran. The opening of this railway caused a revolt. It encroached on the ground belonging to the mosque. This was thought sacrilegious. Religious fanaticism in this case had the last word.—London News.

Cheese and Courtship.

Aristocracies In different places and ages have prided themselves on many different things. One of the queerest, perhaps, is the aristocracy according to cheeses, which, according to the Neue Zuricher Zeitung, prevails among the .patricians of Zermatt. The aristocracy of families is valued by the number and age of the cheesos they possess. There are families who possess cheeses made at the time of the French Revolution. When a child is bom, a cheese is manufactured, which is then called by the name of the child. It is partly eaten when its namesake gets married, each wedding-guest tasting a portion. The cheese is then put away again, and finally cut into and finished at the funeral of the person whose name it bears. When a young man woos a maiden, he begs to be allowed to dine with her family on a Sunday. His offer being accepted, the lovers wait anxiously to see whether the girl’s father will cause the cheese to be set on the table. At the end of the long meal, if all goes well, the master of the house solemnly fetches the cheese bearing the would-be bride’s name, sets it on the table, cuts it, and gives a piece to the young couple. When they have eaten it, they are a betrothed pair. The others at the table partake of the cheese and drink to the eternal friendship of the two families. —London News.

Discovers a Petrified Man.

Peter McNabb, a fern gatherer, found in his wanderings through a forest near Columbus, Ohio, what seems to be the petrified remains of a man—probably a prehistoric man. He says it was brought to light by a recent landslide. One arm and one leg are missing, the remaining leg being drawn up against the stomach and the head dropping upon the breast. In size it is a little above the ordinary, and appears to have been buried in a sitting posture. Hundreds look at it, but no scientist has yet examined it—Chicago

NOTES AND COMMENTS.

There are twenty-six cremation associations in active operation in the United States. The oldest was organized at Washington, Pa., in 1876, and the two newest 1 are found in New Haven, Conn., and Elizabeth, N. J. (1804). The number of incinerations reported is 3.670. The number incinerated in Europe from 1876 to 1893 was 18,700. The membership of the American associations is about 8,000 and the adherents of the method about 100,000. The Railway Age gives the following as the present mileage of the greatest railroad systems in America: Pennsylvania, 8,882; Chicago and Northwestern, 7,931; Santa Fe, 7.555; Chicago, Burlington and Quincy, 7,304; Canadian Pacific, 7,103. Statistics show that Pennsylvania has more citizens whose sight has been destroyed, or who have had their eyes rendered useless, than any other state. The large number of iron and steel plants, and other manufactories and mines within Its limits is responsible for this. The fact that Pittsburgh is the center of the iron and steel trade, and in the most importnat coal-mining district in the country, furnishes the explanation for the fact, as stated by the Chronicle of that city, that there are more people in Pittsburgh wearing glass eyes than are to be found in any other city in the country. Those who are in a position to know estimate that there are about 2,400 such unfortunates in Allegheny County, or about one to every 250 persons. A State organization of the school Boards or Minnesota has been formed. There are similar organizations in Illinois, Wisconsin, lowa, Texas and Pennsylvania, and a National Convention—the first—will be held in Buffalo this year; in connection with the National Teachers’ Association. The purpose in the organization of these State Associations of School Boards is to gather and exchange opinions and decisions. Without such organization, it la argued, School Boards are independent bodies, each acting upon its own best Judgment, and knowing little or nothing of other boards. School teachers and superintendents have their own conventions and exchange of ideas, and it is equally desirable that members of School Boards should have an opportunity of educating themselves for their duties.

The figures given by Professor Michie in the Independent of the size and cost of the European military establishments ore very striking. Russia leads off with 868,772 men in her army, while France is second with 598,263, and Germany a close third, with 584,784. Austria follows after a considerable interval with 354,252, while Italy slips in before England with 252,829. But England takes first place in the navy with 83,400 men, followed by France, 43,620, and Italy 35,607. In the percentage of the population for both services in time of peace France leads with 1.67, while Greece is second with 1.28, and Germany third with 1.26. In the annual cost of both services Russia leads off with $252,170,870, followed by France with $181,180,002. The total number of armies and navies in Europe are 3,681,496 men, and the cost is $973,260,215 annually. We might cut a consideralbe figure in the list by adding the pensions for our last war to current army and navy expenses. The Washington Star announces that the two species of large water bugs that have come to be called electric light bugs have put in an appearance around the electric arc lights. “A most curious thing about these bugs,” it says, “is that before the introduction of electric lights they were considered to be comparatively rare. They were seldom seen, as they were not attracted by ordinary light. When the arc light appeared, however, the bugs became enormously noticeable. Upon their appearance in such prodigious numbers entomologists were of the opinion that after two or three years both species would grow scarce, but the numbers do not seem to be decreasing in the slightest. While neither the Belostoma nor the Benacus is distinctly poisonous, both have strong beaks, capable of inflicting severe wounds, and it will be wise to handle them with great care, if at all. The very large black water beetle will also be seen among the water bugs around electric lamps in the proportion of about 1 to 100.”

Some wise French physician has discovered a new cure for insomnia, nightmare, and all sort of nervous ills which disturb our rest. It seems that the old idea of sleeping with the head higher than the feet is all wrong, and we must reverse the order of things and put our feet on the pillow, as this position assures “profound and intellectual sleep.” It may be new to cyclists, but a French physician declares that cyclists, unknown to themselves perhaps, develop a gentle vibratory condition of the body. In other words they become human tuning forks. It was Dr. Pettit who gave the French Academy of Medicine the “tip” on this, and since then French and English bicyclists have been suprised, when they have complained to their medical advisers that they felt unusually restless and could not account for it, to learn that they had unconsciously acquired the “vibratory habit.” The medical journals are taking the matter up, and soon American doctors also will doubtless begin to perscribe for the cure of the new ailment.

The estimated cost of the Nicaragua canal has been increased by the government commission, whose report has just appeared. "In spite of this increase, however,” says The Manufacturer, “the cost remains within the bounds of the capital and the aid which can be legitimately extended by the United States.” The original estimate of the Nicaragua Canal Company ten years ago was $00,4(56,880. The present estimate by the government commission is $133,472,893. This is just double. In the interval, however the estimates made by the company have been increasing as the difficulties were better known. Of late the estimates usually made have placed the' cost at from $100,000,000 to sllO,000,000. The report of the government commission, instead of doubling this latter estimate, as was freely predicted, advances it only to a rouHd $133,500,000. As this commission was selected in no friendly spirit and its instructions were evidently intended to render it certain that its estimates in-

eluded every possible item of cost, tbs figures which it has now published may be accepted as fln*i In a work cm the road and pavements of France, Professor A. P. Rockwell, formerly of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, deduces from the reports of the Minister of the Interior, for 1881-1886, that the average cost of nearly 26,000 miles of macadamized road in France, of which over 17,000 miles were ordinary local roads, were as follows: Main highways, $2,309 per mile; secondary highways, $2,309 per mile, and ordinary local roads, $2,036 per mile. These figures include the cost of the road proper and the grading and right of way; but do not include the cost of bridges, culverts and other structures. The range in price is not very great, being only SBOO per mile in some departments and as much as $5,600 and $7,200 per mile in others. All of the Paris pavements, except a portion of the block-stone paving, are laid ©n concrete foundations. The total area of Paris street pavements on January 1, 1894, was 10,554,520 square yards, and the percentages of kinds of pavement were as follows: Blockstone, 71.5 per cent; macadam 16.3 per cent; asphalt, 3.8 per cent, and wood, 8.4 per cent. Asphalt pavements date from 1855 and the first wood pavements were laid in 1881; but the tendency of to-day is to substitute wood or asphalt for stone and macadam, with wood as the present favorite.

In an interesting decision the Massachusetts Supreme Court decides that damages by smoke from a fire which was confined exclusively in a chimneyplace come within the risks insured against by a policy of the standard form in Massachusetts. The defendant contended that the policy was not intended to apply to a fire which is lighted and maintained for the ordinary purposes for which fires are used In buildings, and which is confined within the place that is fitted for such. Judge Knowlton for the court says, “We are inclined to the opinion that a distinction should be made between a fire intentionally lighted and maintained for a useful purpose in connection with the occupation of a building, and a fire which starts from such a fire without human agency in a place where fires are never lighted nor maintained, although such ignition may naturally be expected to. occur occasionally as an incident to the maintenance of necessary fires, and although the place where it occurs is constructed with a view to prevent damage from such ignition. A fire in a chimney should be considered rather a hostile fire than a friendly fire, and as such, if it causes damage, it is within the provisions of ordinary contracts of fire insurance.”

The State Department officers feel that the Consular reports which are prepared at infinite pains, and in some cases by much labor and research, by our consuls in all parts of the world are not fully appreciated at home. These reports aim, under the present system, to point out to American merchants and manufacturers the best markets for their products. Complete data are furnished by the Consuls, and it is made available at once for the newspapers. It has been found that American newspapers care very little for such news, and even the trade papers use the material sparingly. The reports are published periodically in volumes which are distributed generally to business men whose addresses are on the State Department list. By the time this publication reaches them, however, the information is old and in some cases its value is lessened. The department officers think that greater consideration should be paid the reports of our Consuls, especially as they mean dollars and cents to many business houses in all parts of the country. The subjects treated of are as varied as the lines of commerce, and both exportation and importation are dealt with. It was remarked recently In the State Department that the London Times awaited with apparent interest the publication of the Consular reports, and made regularly an abstract of the information. It is the only paper in the world, so far as the department officials know, which makes this use of the commercial reports of American Consuls.

Points About Cuba

The Cuban flag has five broad stripes, three of blue and two of white. A blue triangle diminishes from one end, and on it is one silver star. England and Australia are the only other islands which exceed Cuba in natural resorces. When not wasted by war Cuba produces, with a large share of her soil untouched $100,000,000 worth of sugar and tobacco annually, besides the products of orchards and forests, rivers and mountain mines. Where the soil is not a deep dark red it is so black that it shines as though it were oiled. The whole color scheme is brilliant and beautiful. At present there are about 125,000 Spaniards and 75,000 Cubans engaged in fighting each other. Whenever a regiment reaches Havanna there is a show of festivities. Pillars of triumph are erected at the landing place decorated with laurel and the Spanish colors. The presentation of birds along with flowers is a Spanish custom. Soldiers who secure birds bear them proudly on the butts of their rifles. The population of Cuba is a little over 1,631,000. The whites generally outnumber the colored people, there being but 528,798 of the Africans and mulattoes on the island. The leader of the Cuban rebellion is Maximo Gomez. His home is in San Domingo and his wife and children are music teachers and seamstresses. He has a son who has not engaged in the war, remaining at home to cultivate his SIO,OOO farm.

Woman Wore Trousers First.

It has remained for an American woman to discover that trousers were first invented and worn by women. Among the most ancient nations, points out Mrs. Evans, wife of the President of Hedding College, in Illinois, the trousers are still worn by the women, while the men go about in more or less abbreviated skirts. There is therefore nothing modern about bloomers. There are more Englishmen in Boston than in any other city in the United States, the population being estimated at 39,000.