Democratic Sentinel, Volume 20, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 July 1896 — Page 4

CHAPTER VII. “Strike work’” shouted a powerful voice. “Gold is better than silver, and light than dark, and Gospel truth than vain imaginings. Down with shovel and bar and pick; down with spade and basket, lads and lasses, and give thanks, old and young, for the plenteous harvest of this day. For a harvest it is, full measure, and heaped up, and ready to be garnered, that lies ready to your hand.” It was Obadiah Jedson who spoke, and a picturesque figure did the aged captain of jet hunters present, as he suddenly appeared’standing on a flat-topped rock, the highest of a rugged reef of storm-beaten stones, at the foot of which some fifteen members of his company were busy at their usual toil on the sea beach. Beside him stood Don. The jet seekers, some straggling, others collected in a group with upturned faces, looked toward their captain, as if waiting to hear more. “What is it, captain?” asked one of the elder men, after a pause.' “Aught of good luck would be welcome here.” “Lads and lasses, ye remember my dream —the dream that on Thursday last I told you of?” “We do!” “We do!” “Yes, captain!” “Yes, Obadiah!” “Well we mind it!” Such were the eager replies. “A black tree, was it not. of which I told you?” demanded Obadiah, looking around him frowningly, as if to challenge a skeptic. “Ay, black as the Black Rood of Jeddart, or as the swart timbers of the Maiden of Halifax, that grim engine of earthly punishment, beneath the gleaming sword blade of which many an outlawed head has fallen in our forefathers’ time. Yes, a black tree. But fowls roosted in its branches, and bees hummed pleasantly among the flowers that encircled its trunk, and corn and wine and oil were stacked in plenty at its foot. The . black tree was the type of abundance. And lo! the dream is fulfilled. Last night, two miles from here, in Dutchman’s Bay, there was a landslip, which has laid bare black traces that a boy’s inexperienced eye might read as pointing to a mine—a jet pocket, where lies a buried tree not seen by mortal eye since England was a kingdom. The dream has come true. Quick to gather the fruits of it!” “Hurrah!” The cheering broke out irrepressibly, the shrill voices of the women and girls blending with the deeper shout of the men. And then tools and baskets tvere snatched up in a hurry, and there was a prompt movement in the direction of Dutchman’s Bay.

Seldom, indeed, did the opening up of a new vein of the precious fossil promise so well. There was a general rush, and many chips and some lumps of the freshly exposed jet were picked up, while there was a babble of voices. “It’s wonderful!” “It’s Obadiah’s dream, indeed!” “We’ll all be rich, rich as Jews!” “I wouldn’t take fifty gold sovereigns for my share, I know!” “What ago this is!” “Nobody like our captain!” Such were some of the exclamations of the sanguine and admiring. Obadiah himself was mute. He was a more experienced jet setter and g more educated man than any there, and he had seen from the first that the lie of the tree, some buried pine of untold ages ago, was toward the cliff. The fragments that peeped from the rubbush heaps or sparkled on the beach were but broken bits of the fossil conifer, laid to rest in some remote geological epoch beneath the sand and marl of the shifting coast line. He looked on, then, indulgently as the younger members of his band scrambled excitedly for black flakes and nodules amid the debris of the landslip, and waited to commence serious operations until Don and the party of volunteers under his orders should arrive with the ashen props, without which it would be suicidal rashness to attack the main fortress of the cliff wall. Presently Don and his party arrived, laden with the short, tough pillars of tenacious wood which Obadiah Jedson’s prudence had provided, and the assault on Nature’s fortress was commenced with a will. Gradually the rumor spread to cottage and farmstead and fisher’s hut along the sea shore that the jet hunters had hit upon an extraordinary mine, or, technically, “pocket,” of the valuable material for which they passed their lives in searching, and*that such a yield was forthcoming as, in the memory of man, the Yorkshire sea coast had never known. By and by exaggerated rumors were current as to the success of the explorers. They had gleaned five hundred pounds’ worth, it was reported, before dinner time—the early dinner hour of country bred toilers. They were picking up jet in lumps like those of Newcastle coal, and at a rate that would cheapen the value of it in Whitby and Scarborough for twenty years to come. The higher the social rank tne more slowly does gossip permeate toward the possessor of it. Every hind or fisherman in or near Beckdale had heard of the exceeding good fortune of Obadiah Jedson’s roving company hours before the news was conveyed to Woodburn Parsonage. And it was late in the afternoon when the rector himself, his wife, his children, and his beautiful ward, Violet Mowbray, appeared on the firm sea sand of the upper end of Dutchman’s Bay, where a crowd had collected, and where two coast guardsmen were, by their lieutenant’s orders, present to enforce order. One thing there was from which the spectators appeared to derive much satisfaction; Rufus Crouch was not one of the busy band of jet winners now engaged in driving their burrows, like so many rabbits in human shape, deep iifto the cliff. Rufus Crouch was absent. It must be presumed that the returned Australian gold digger had not conciliated the opinion of the neighborhood, so hearty was the chuckling and so sincere the delight of the crowd, as the probable disappointment of the traveled jet hunter was the subject of discussion. “Not a penny of it for old Rufus!” “Won’t Crouch be mad when he hears of it? a bumptious chap like that, who even » argues against Captain Obadiah himself.” “He’s up in London.” “Ha! ha! ha!” Late into the night the torches burned, and the work went on, until at last the wearied jet hunters desisted from their task, and fell asleep around their fires of wrick wood. CHAPTER VIII. Some ten days, or twelve, had elapsed since Rufus Crouch, ex-gold digger and present jet hunter, called so unexpectedly at the Mortmain mansion in Hyde Park. The morning was a bright and sunny one, with but a few lazy clouds of fleecy vhtteaeM sailing across the bine sky, as < ! V >' ’l, .

A LOYAL LOVE

RY J. BERWICK HARWOON.

the Rector of Woodburn, with his family, returning after a week-day service from the church hard by, saw, slowly riding out of the parsonage garden, a gentleman, followed by a mounted groom. The stranger lifted his hat with a pleasant smile, and instantly dismounted and threw tne reins to his groom. “Mr. Langton?” he said, inquiringly. “Allow me to be my own introducer. My name is Mortmain—Sir Richard Mortmain—a neighbor of yours, since I have just arrived at Helston, and I have taken the liberty of coming across to call at the Rectory, emboldened' by the fact, Mr. Langton, of my father’s old friendship with yourself.” “Most happy to make your acquaintance, Sir Richard,” exclaimed Mr. Langton, genuine pleasure in his eyes and tone as he stretched out his hand in greeting. “Yes, I knew your father, the late Sir Richard, and was under no trifling obligations to him, as you are perhaps aware. It was he who, when my health broke down, presented me to the living of Woodburn here, of which you, of course, are the patron as he was. Allow me to introduce you to my wife, Mrs. Langton, as the son of a very old and kind friend, who will always be welcome under my poor roof.” So Sir Richard was made known to Mrs. Langton, and to pretty Violet Mowbray, and to the olive ’branches of the Langton family now at home —two girls and a boy, in the hobbledhoy stage of life. And Sir Richard smiled and bowed, and spoke very nicely and not too much, and acted his self-imposed part with consummate care and skill. Then followed a hearty invitation to luncheon at the parsonage. “You must break bread with us,” the rector insisted.” The groom and horses, therefore, were sent down to the village inn, while the baronet, becoming at each instant more and more at home with his kindly entertainers, walked on with them toward the house. Sir Richard was a bird of much brighter plumage than any that harbored near Woodburn, and, once that he found himself accepted at his own valuation, he did his very best that his singing should please the ears and tickle the imagination of his auditors. Then he talked of Helston, and of his own design to live there, to render the neglected old place trim and orderly, and to cultivate neighborly relations with those who had formerly been known to himself or his father. Lupchgon was over. The fernery, the tiny hot house, the exquisite peeps’ at the sea, which, through overhanging ivy-tan-gles and festoons of noisette roses, the different windows afforded, had been one and all exhibited and admired. Even the albums of photographs and rare seaweed on the drawing room tables had been surveyed. John Langton’s top ship, a model schooner, four feet long, of the construction and rigging of which the boy was very proud, though frank enough to own how much assistance he had received from “Mr. Don,” was next shown. “1 should never have got her so taut and smart by myself,” said the youngster; “but then, Don is such a fine fellow!” “And who is Mr. Don? A Spanish sailor, I presume, or possibly a Neopolitan, since they use the Spanish title there?” asked Sir Richard, trying not to yawn. Mr. Langton took it upon himself to answer. “It is difficult,” he said, with a smile, “to say what Mr. Don is, and what he is not. I never had a pupil to match him. He is the handsomest lad from here to Sunderland, and about the boldest. He is only a jet hunter, living by a precarious industry peculiar to our sea coast, but out of a crowd you would at once select him as a gentleman, though whence he came or what was the rank of his parents, no one knows. A fine fellow, Don!” “I am sure of it,” returned Sir Richard, with every appearance of interest. Then the baronet’s groom and horses came round to the door, and there was a hearty leave taking, with pledges of future friendship, and the visitor rode off gracefully toward his lonely home at Helston. “A good beginning,” he muttered. “1 saw the girl’s eyes glisten more than once. ?f I can touch her youthful fancy, and it is all right about the money, why, then!” and he rode on.

CHAPTER IX. In Dutchman’s Bay the work which had been begun some four or five days before went on, thanks to the authority which Obadiah Jedson was able to exercise over the members of his band. Rufus Crouch had returned to Woodburn, and had readily been received as a partner in the enterprise, as had also six or seven other absent jet hunters, who had come hurrying back from the north at the first tidings of the good fortune of their comrades. In the evening of the fifth day since the commencement of the mining operations the rector and his family strolled along the beach to Dutchman’s Bay, accompanied by Sir Richard Mortmain. The accomplished baronet had by this time succeeded in establishing something like intimacy between himself and the inmates of Woodburn Parsonage. Mr. Langton had been prompt iu returning the visit of the son of his former patron, and Sir Richard had willingly accepted his invitation to partake of tea and strawberries on that balmy summer’s evening, which witnessed the expedition to the jet mine. At the very mouth of the mine the party of visitors encountered a miner coming out, who shaded his eyes with his broad hand and peeped out into the twilight. A red-bearded man, this, brawny of limb and awkward of gait, and whose hairy face was dark w’ith heat and toil “Where are those ash planks?” he called out, in a hoarse, imperative voice. “Not come, eh? The lazy hound that sold them promised to cart them here before sundown; and if I were captain ” Here his restless eyes lit on Sir Richard Mortmain s impassive face, and with a growl like that of a bear disturbed in his lair, he made a half-sheepish, half-sullen attempt at a salute, and shambled away. Nothing in the baronet’s attitude or demeanor would'have told that he had ever ■een Crouch before. This is my young friend_Don— Mr. Don they style him, usually,” explained the c‘ c „. a ® Don came forward—“of whom Bir Richard, you have heard me speak, this gentleman, Don, is Sir Richard Mortmain, a neighbor of ours now.” Don flushed and breathless, took off his sailor’s cap that rested on his silken curls, and somehow Sir Richard Mortmain felt himself constrained to lift his own hat with as much of grave politeness as if he had just been introduced on the Pall Mall pavement to a social equal. “How came the cub to be a gentleman?” muttered the worldly baronet behind his dark mustache.

“I have heard a great deal of you, Mr. Don, since I have been in these parts,” smilingly remarked the baronet. “More, I fear, than I merit, Sir Richard, If yoyr information comes from my kind friend Mr. Langton here,” answered the young man; and there was something in the ring of his deep, rich voice that made the master of Mortmain feel, for the second time, as if he were face to face with his equal. (To be continued.)

RACES ARE AT WAR.

Disatcreementa Between Finns and In* diana in Alaaka Threaten Trouble. J. F. Solomon, who ran a trading sloop between Cook inlet and Juneau twelve years ago, is an old traveler, and has roughed it in South America, Central America and Mexico. Speaking of his experiences in Alaska he tells of a remarkable escape from death he witnessed while at Nucheck several years ago. “I spent some time at Nucheck once. Was there on a trading venture in the schooner. The crew with the boat were about the only white men there at that time besides the post trader and the Russian bishop. There were lots of natives there, and they were most all Catholics. I had a Russian Finn aboard, a quarrelsome fellow, who came pretty near getting us all cleaned out. He was fond of clams, and during his spare time, which was plenty, used to gather clams and put them in a bucket. He would leave the bucket at the water's edge so the rising tide would cover them and keep them fresh. “One morning an Indian kicked the bucket over and scattered the clams. This tuade the Russian Finn mad, and he went at the native hammer and tongs, spreading him all over the place. The fellow fought back, and the Finn drew a small revolver on him. A number of Indians had gathered about, attracted by the noise of the quarrel, and when the pistol flashed into view cries of hatred and anger rose on all sides. The Finn had to run for his life. He got into the house of the post trader, and the Indians howled about on the outside like a lot of wolves who have a seent of meat. The bishop was on hand trying to pacify them. Finally he went into the house and demanded the revolver. The Finn was seared, and gave it over without much of a struggle. The bishop went outside, and after holding it up to the view of the excited natives threw it on the ground. It struck on the hammer and exploded. The bullet struck one of the natives in the front of the neck and came out of the back. The strange thing was that the Indian was unhurt, the bullet slippingabout the neck without penetrating a vital point. Then there was a great powwow. The bishop was smart. He said a higher power had certainly guided the bullet and_spared the man's life, to make peace between the whites and their brothers. The Indians took it all in, and the trouble was tided over. They never went much on the Russian Finn, however, and until we had gotten safely away he never went alone at night.”—Seattle Post-Intelligencer.

Dyspepsia-Proof.

Much is said about American dyspepsia, but there is one native race of America that is certainly not greatly troubled by the modern curse. The sturdy little Eskimos defy all the laws of hygiene, and thrive. The Eskimo, like the ordinary dweller in America, eats until he is satisfied, but there is this difference, that he never is satisfied while a shred of the feast remains unconsumed. His capacity is limited by the supply, and by that only. He cannot make any mistake about the manner of cooking his food—for, as a rule, he does not cook it—nor, sp far as the blubber or fat of the Arctic animal is concerned, about his method of eating it, for he simply does not eat it; he cuts it into long strips an inch wide and an inch thick, and then lowers the strips down his throat as one might lower a rope into a well. And after all that, he does not suffer from indigestion. He can make a good meal off the flesh and skin of the walrus, provision so hard and gritty that in cutting up the animal the knife must be continually sharpened. The teeth of a little Eskimo child will meet in a bit of walrus skin as the teeth of an American child would meet in the flesh of an apple. And that when the hide of the walrus is from half an inch to an Inch and a half in thickness, and bears considerable resemblance to the skin of an elephant. The Eskimo child will bite and digest it, too, and never know what dyspepsia means.

“Calvin Echoes.”

James Edwin Campbell, a negro poet, who recently died in Ohio, was born and educated in Virginia. Among his unpublished papers are “Calvin Echoes,” a fund of plantation philosophy gathered from the “uncles” and “aunties” of plantation homes. The Chicago TimesHerald publishes a selection. De o? hen nebber foun’ dat bug ’twel she scratched. De mule cyawn’ sing lak de red bu’d, but neider kin de red bu’d kick so high an’ so ha’d. Dars many a good gyurl gibs up ur hun’erd-dollar dadder fur ur ten-cent husban’. Good cookin’ keeps lub in de house much longer ’an good looks. De man ain’ done been bo’n dat kin lib and lub on bad bread. Coaxin’ sometimes he’ps yo’ mule ur long w’en yo’ blacksnake (long whip) falls. De ’possum is des lak some folks I knows; he tinks he kin fool you wid ur grin.

Hotels at Home and Abroad.

Major Edgar A. De Bernals, editor and proprietor of the London Hotel World, who was recently in this country, has this to say of American hotels: “You can live at a Loudon or Paris hotel much more cheaply than at an American house, and get better quality and more quantity of food. You do not practice in this country the science of economy. Tons and tons of good, valuable meats and breads are dumped daily out of the back doors of hotels in America, while we in London or England waste pounds. You can get a better meal for 30 or 40 cents at a Paris restaurant than is served you at the leading American hotels for from $1 to .*1.50. The French know how not to waste.” Niebuhr, the historian, read with ease twenty different languages, and could converse in ten or twelve

NOTES AND COMMENTS.

The timber wealth of the United States gives a yearly product of over a billion dollars, or more than twice the value of the entire output of all the mines. Yet nowhere on earth is the wealth of the forests wasted more wantonly than in this country. In a recent address in New Y’ork, E. Francis Hyde declared that the 318 square miles of area of Greater New York wassufSclent toac -ommo latewith standing room all the inhabitants of the earth, 1,450,000,(100 in number, and allow six square feet to each individual. French authors will henceforth have power to have the iwoks of their publishers examined in order to ascertain whether they have been paid their royalty in full. A decision has just been rendered in the ease of Paul Bourget versus Leinerre. Lemerre objected to an inspection of his books, and this was the cause of the suit. Electric railways have displaced in the United States no less than 275,000 horses, says the Pittsburg Dispatch. So many horses would require about 125,000 bushels of grain a day to feed them, amounting to 45,000.000 bushels a year. The loss of the commercial demand for this grain in the cities where these railways run mean an enormous loss of transportation tonnage for the railways—some 62,500 carloads. Here is a question of domestic economy that is serious.

Hair-splitting on a legal technicality this time in Minnesota. The crime althis time in Minnesota. The crime was leged was forgery, and the Indictment charged the defendant with having fraudulently and feloniously uttered and disposed of a forged instrument then knowing the same to be forged. That would appear to the lay mind to be sufficiently definite. But it happens that the statute, in defining forgery, makes the crime to be the uttering of a forged document “as true.” The words “as true” were omitted from the indictment, and this, in the opinion of the Supreme Court, was a fatal defect. Dr. Toner, the venerable historian, who knows more than any one else about the private life of Washington, for he has made it a special study for half a century, says that the recentlypublished story about a woman at Williamsburg, Va., being jilted by the Father of His Country is untrue. Washington had many love affairs, but he never jilted any woman. He was sentimental and susceptible, fell in love witli a number of girls, and offered himself to several before he captured the pretty Widow Custis. But he was not a heart-breaker, and in all his relations with woman was sincere and honorable.

The importation of American horses into France is becoming a success that is not only stimulating to the national love for the honest penny, but to patriotic pride as well. The French will not yet acknowledge that our product equals their finest breeds, the Percherons, for instance, but as carriage horses, draught animals and perhaps for cavalry use they regard them as far superior to the corresponding class of horses bred in France. The French breeders are taking fright, and we may perhaps expect to see some sort of a contract-labor-alien-horse law passed by the French Parliament. Lepers are not so uncommon in Europe as is generally thought. Gne was picked up in the Paris streets recently and sent to the St. Louis Hospital, where there were already six other patients with the same disease. There are isolated cases dotted all over France, while the lepers’ hospital at San Remo and iu Spain and Portugal are never without patients. They are gaining ground in Turkey and the lonian Islands. Crete has 500 of them. They are most numerous, however, in Norway, where there are 800, and are rapidly increasing in Sweden, which has already 462. In British India there are 100,000 lepers. The disease infests Indo-China, Tonquin, China, and Japan, as well as Hayti, Trinidad, Guiana, Venezuela, Brazil and Paraguay.

“One of the most remarkable new departures in the freight business,” said Mr. Omar 11. Bartlett, general freight agent of the Louisville and Nashville Railroad, “is the idea of icing vegetables for shipping long distances. It has been tried spasmodically in other years, but never until this year was the plan carried out to any extent. Now the New Orleans shippers are icing their vegetables right along. We have already this season hauled twenty-five cars to New York city alone that contained iced vegetables, and the shipments to Boston, Buffalo, Pittsburg, Baltimore, Philadelphia and, in fact, to all the Northern cities, have followed out this new idea. You know, the shipment of cucumbers, cabbages, beans and all kinds of garden stuff have grown very rapidly in the past few years, and now the producers have found it necessary to ice them. The process of packing is quite interesting.”—New Orleans Times-Democrat. The Railrdad Gazette says: “The records of the new railroad building in the United States in 1896, which have been gathered, show that 717 miles of road has been built in the first half of the year. The total is not very different from the amount of railroad which has been constructed in the first ha If of any year, since the conditions in 1893 called a sharp halt in railroad building. Last year 622 miles of new road was built up to July 1, and the record in 1894, only 495 miles between January 1 and July 1, showed how decisively extension work had been stopped. It will be seen how greatly railroad extension has been checked by the conditions of the last few years, and there are no substantial signs that any large relative increase is to be expected in the near future. Much the largest mileage credited to any one company, of the total given for the six months, is that built by the Kansas City, Pittsburg and Gulf —nearly 140 miles—in Arkansas, Texas and the Indian Territory. The second longest line was built by the San Francisco and San Joaquin Valley road—ss miles —in California.” “The story of a small town in this State, twelve miles from Philadelphia,” says the Long Branch Record, “forms a fitting object lesson on good roads. In consequence of the bad roads the wagon-makers thereabouts built 4horse wagons to carry fifty-five bushel

(basket* as a maximum load, whien was regarded as a heavy one. Real | estate has gone begging for years; there was no market for it It has been impossible to settle up estates, because no buyers could be found for the land. A few years ago the people of the community woke up. The town ! issued $40,000 worth of bonds and ap- ! plied the proceeds to building good ' roads. As a result the wagon-makers lin the vicinity are making 2-horee wagons to carry, not fifty-five bushel baskets, but loads made up of ninety . to 125 bushel baskets, and still the , loads are not regarded as heavy. Two I horses are able to do more work than ' four horses formerly could do, and i with greater ease. On the old roads | two men and four horses with a wagon weighing 1.900 pounds could take 1 two and a half tons of produce to market and bring back an equal weight of fertilizer, making one trip a day. Now, ; on the good roads, one man with two ' horses and a wagon weighing 2,300 pounds takes four tons to market, bringing back an equal weight, making four trips a day.” One of the most discouraging items shown by the recent official census is the rapid increase in the amount of child labor in the United States. Hundreds of children who are barely old enough to leave the nursery, and who are scarcely able to distinguish between right and wrong, are brought face to face with the hard world and compelled to grapple with men in the fierce competition of life. This statement suggests a train of sad reflections. Without the power to resist evil and possessing none of these educational incentives which kindle a yearning for higher and better things, the consequences of this infantile exposure to the vice of the age are direful to contemplate. Some may escape uninjured and grow up into useful and vigorous men, but the great majority of these young toilers are in danger of drifting into the straits of error. In Chicago, where attendance on the public schools is compulsory, the report shows that a large number of children are employed in the stockyards, factories and business houses, devoting all the time which they can give after the expiration of school hours. One of the saddest phases of the stern necessity which compels these children to earn their daily bread is the fact that many of them are engaged in occupations which are not conducive to good morals. Even in Boston there are hundreds of children under twelve years old who sell papers, black boots, deliver messages and serve as cash and errand boys in large retail establishments.

FENCE 400 MILES LONG.

Battles o* the Australians With the Destructive Rabbit. The New South Wales government, it may be remembered, offered a rward of $125,000 to any person or persons who could suggest an efficient method of getting rid of the rabbit: but. although this liberal reward led to the receipt of no fewer than 2.600 ".chemos from all parts of the world, none of them was regarded as satisfactory, and the offer was withdrawn. The final outcome of royal commissions, of intercolonial conferences and of the testing of every practical method of extermination, is that the most effectual method of dealing with the evil is found to be the construction of rabbitproof netting, by means of which the animals can be kept from acres not yet infested, can be shut off from food supplies and can be more effectually dealt with locally. The length of some of these fences is enormous. There is one starting at Barringun, on the Queensland border, and following the Main Trunk line from Bourke to Corowa—a distance of 407 miles; and there is another along the entire western boundary of New South Wales—a distance of 346 miles. The Queensland government, too, has erected a similar fence along a considerable portion of the northern boundary of New South Wales, but the surveyor general of Queensland, in the report already referred to, says that “the rabbits must have come through the fence in mobs and droves of innumerable multitudes at some time,” and thus have established themselves in Queensland as well. This, of course, is the weak point in regard to fences, which are liable to break down in places, more especially in times of flood and where they cross over creeks, while keeping of constant supervision over the fences, so that immediate repairs can be done when openings appear, is quite impracticable where the distances are so great. In many instances countless thousands of rabbits have been seen on one side of a fence dead or dying of starvation, after eating all the available food supplies, and leaping up at the fence in their attempts to surmount it. One can imagine how they would rush through in the event of any opening appearing, and how a single break in the fence might be the doom of a country not previously infested.

A Novel Storm Pit.

H. J. Pettus has built a novel and unique storm* pit at Healing Springs. He informed us that he had been troubled a great deal by nervous guests who came from cyclone districts, and built the storm pit to relieve their anxieties. The pit is built under the hill in such a manner that it would be impossible for the severest storm to reach it, and is so arranged that should all the cottages at the Springs be blown thereon and burned it would not affect the refugees in side. Ample provisions have lieen made for ventilation, and it can be truthfully said Healing Springs has “a refuge in time of storm.”—Washington (Ala.) News.

Sleeps in Two Counties at Once.

There 'is probably but one person in the State of Pennsylvania, says' the Philadelphia Record, who can boast that he sleeps with his head in one county and feet in another. Joseph Wilson of near Allentown, who is at the present time studying at the Philadelphia School of Design, claims that when he is at home he rests with hiis head in Lehigh County and his feet in Northampton. He says the house he lives in stands on the dividing line of the two counties, and his bed lies directly across the line. There is also a bed in the same house which is bisected from head to foot by the county line, so that two persons may lie side by side in It and yet be in two different counties.

Merciful Bullets.

English military men are endeavoring to determine whether the bullet for their new service rifle, the Lee Metford, which has taken the place of the Martini-Henry, is not actually too merciful in its action. The object of war is to disable the enemy, and not to kill him, but apparently the new rifle bullet fails to do either, says the St Louis Globe-Democrat The report on the use of the projectile in the Transvaal says that the injuries which were made by the Lee-Metford were much cleaner and healed much more quickly than those from the Martini-Henry. Both the entrance and exit orifices were exceedingly small, and so clean were the wounds internally that in one instance a burgher who had been shot clean through the lungs was convalescent a few days after admission to the hospital. It is true that where the bone is struck the effect is most violent, but there can be no doubt whatever that the perforation of the organs and fleshy part of the body by the new bullet more often than not absolutely fails instantly to disable the victim, unless, of course, a really vital ’ organ of the body is struck. The wounds, on the other hand, which were made by the Martini-Henry bullets, were, the report states, of a much more serious nature, namely, “larger, jagged} slow healing, with bad entrance and worse exit” Many instances were related of the merciful properties of the new English bullet during the Chitral campaign, and this latest report is likely to give greater emphasis to the question. Not only does the bullet fail to stop a man, but, judging by many accounts, it inflicts very little pain, presumably on the same principle as the popular scientific experiment whicl: shows a rabbit peacefully chewing its food while a rapidly revolving knife is cutting its ears into ribbons. The horrors of the next great war perhaps will not be »o great as some people imagine.

An Eccentric Vegetarian.

News has conn from Jamaica, West Indies, of the death of one of the most remarkable monomaniacs that has ever been known. His name was Boeter, and up to two years ago be was a swell lieutenant in a crack corps of German hussars. But one day, without any apparent reason oi excuse, Lieutenant Boeter announced that he had become a vegetarian—or, mon strictly speaking, a “fruitarian.” In order to carry out his fad, or his mania—for such it speedily became—be resigned bis commission and embarked or a tour which should take in every coun try and clime of the globe. He believed in nothing but fruit; but the difficulty was how to get fruit at all times, and he de termined to discover the modern Garden of Eden, if it existed, even though h« traveled all his life in the attempt Europe was, of course, out of the question—it was too circumscribed; so h< started for the sunny East, and landed ir Java. But here his strange quest was unavailing. Then be started for Ceylon, and visited, in turn, Egypt Tonga, Fiji, New Zealand, Australia and India, bui failed to find what he wanted. Herr Boeter had money galore, his time was his own. and so he returned to London with a view of starting afresh. As a companion be picked up another ‘-fruitarian,” and they embarked together for They reached Jamaica last January, and once more began the hunt for the unattainable. They journeyed about the island, visited several of the same villages and, as the reason of their visit and the object of their mission had been spread abroad, the simple inhabitants peered at them with unusual curiosity. But the climate of Jamaica is deadly unless one is used to it; and it was not long before Herr Boeter caught the fever. He sard that he did not suffer any, but merely felt tired, and decided to return tc Kingston for a rest and convalescence swinging in a hammock under the palms. He reached Kingston on a Friday, but refused to see a doctor He died the next night. His companion has decided to abandon his fruitarian theories and return home as speedily as possible.

Mica.

The commercial micas are: Muscovite (white mica), phlogopite (amber mica), biotite (black mica;. Muscovite is used principally for stove panels. For this purpose it must be clear and free from spots. The best muscovite is ruby red in color when in blocks. The white coloi comes next in value. The sizes of the sheets most desired for commercial purposes are x 2 inches up to 8x 10 inches. Phlogopite is u-ed chiefly sot electrical purposes, and is free from wrinkles < r crevices. It splits easily and is very flexible, stands a very high temperature without disintegrating, dark spots lessen its value. Waste mica is ground and used as a lubricant for heavy bearings, in certain insulating compounds, for decorating wallpipers, and as a' fertilizer. Scrap mica is made up into large sheets by a patent process. The principal sources of mica are India, Canada and the United States. Machinery is liable to injure the sheets. Mica is mined chiefly by hand. The mineral is blasted, sorted, split to the correct thickness, and then trimmed and packed for the market in packages of one pound. As a rule only 4 per cent is brought into a marketable form, so that the waste is enormous.

Net of the Garden Spider.

The net of the common garden spidei consists of two different kinds of silk, The threads which form the concentric circles are composed of silk much more elastic than that which composes the rays. The concentric threads are alsc covered with globules of gum which is not to be found on the rays. A scientific writer estimates that a net of the average dimensions contains not less than 87.3G0 of these gum globules, any three of them being sufficiently adhesive tc catch and hold an unwary fly. Large nets (twelve to fourteen inches in diameter) sometimes contain as many as 120,000 of these minute gum balls. The rapidity with which these nets are built is really surprising. One that contains from sixty to 100 yards ot silk and which is studded with 80,000 to 120,000 gum globules is often completed and ready for use within forty minutes from the moment when the first guyrope is anchored.

The Judge's Reproof.

The venerable Judge Allen, of the United States Circuit Court, at Springfield, 111., was hearing a ease a few years ago, in which Janies C. Courtney was one of the attorneys. The counsel on the opposite side had asked a question of a witness, and Courtney had objected. The point was argued by both sides, and the objection was overruled. The opposite lawyer asked the same question of the next witness, and Courtney again objected and began to argue it over again. Judge Allen interrupted him with this observation: “.Mr. Courtney, you remind me of a dog that keeps barking up the tree after the coon Is gone.” Mr. Courtney thereupon subsided.

THE JOKER'S BUDGET.

JESTS AND YARNS OF THE FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. Perhaps He Favored the Home TeamHard on the Hotel—Onto It at Last—the Exception to the Rule. according to nature. She—Don’t you always pity a girl who is frightened in the dark ? He—Naturally, 1 cannot help feeling for her. rivals. “Well, what do you think? That <> goose offers himself in this letter.” “I don’t blame him. He’s tired being refused.” A REMINDER. He—Miss Edgerton reminds me of delicate piece of china. She—Hand-painted ? HE LOOKED TO THE RIGHT AND LEFT. Miss Wheeler—lsn’t the scenery beautiful along that road ? Ryder—\ ery! I’m using court plaster and arnica on account of that scenery. HARD TIMES. “Where are you going to take you family this summer, Hicks?” “To Coney Island.” “What! For the summer?” “No; for a day.”

wouldn’t have the chance. Mrs. Newife—l acknowledge that have my faults and am sometimes cross, Jack, dear, but if 1 had the last two years of my life to live over again I should marry you just the same. Mr. Newife—l doubt it PROOF. “I tell you, I drank nothing but soda.” “But you tried for five minutes to light your cigar at—” “I couldn't reach it ” “ —At an electric light." he couldn’t help it. Old Longnecker (severely)—Young man, do you love your neighbor as yourself? Young Tutgall (enthusiastically)—You bet! And, say, you just ought to see her curlv hair, dimples in her cheeks and not a day over nineteen! FROM BAD TO WORSE. Arthur—l think we had better 'TW further in and hug Emily—Why, Arthur! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself! Arthur—the shore. Emily—Mr. Merriam, take me to shore at once 1 AT THE SUMMER HOTEL. May. —And you told your mother that he had been introduced to you? Ethel.—Well, he was introduced to me. May.—By whom? Ethel.—By himself. FOWL LANGUAGE. Chick—Ma, that hen setting over there has laid seven eggs to-day. She’s quite a phenom, isn’t she ? Old Hen—My son, I wish you would refrain from using such vulgar slang. Why do you not call her a phenom hen on? PERHAPS HE FAVORED THE HOME TEAM. First Girl—She doesn’t understand baseball at all. Second Girl—No? First Girl—No, Whv, the other day she went to a game and fell in love with the umpire.

HARD ON THE IiOTEI.. “What sort of climate have you?” inquired the prospective guest. ‘ First rate,” said the proprietor of the summer resort. “Cool and bracing; creates a great appetite. Why, our guests declare that they are as hungry after a meal as before. ” ONTO IT AT LAST. “Great Scott!” said the mosquito, as the jet of air from the punctured bicycle tire struck him, “what a low trick these cyclers are putting up on us! But then ” He hummed meditatively. “ luckily I’ve got wind of it!” THE EXCEPTION TO THE RULE. ‘‘Everybody is grumbling about the hot weather.” “Not everybody. The summer hotel keepers haven't made any kick as yet about the hot weather. ” SEEMED TO NEED AN OPIATE. City Boarder.—Can't anything be done for those poor chickens of yours ? Farmer.—What is the matter with ’em? Boarder.—lnsomnia;—none of them could sleep a wink after four o'clock this morning. ONE OF JOHNNIE'S SISTERS. Johnnie Chaffie's sister, Lillie, is somewhat given to flirting. A few days ago Mr. Phoneyman asked her; “Miss Lillie, were you born in March?” “Why no, Mr. Phoneyman; why do you ask ?” 4 “I didn’t know but you were born it* March, as you have some arch ways about you.” ALL THE REQUISITES. ‘ So you have written a novel?” ‘ ‘Y es. ” “Has your heroine satin skin, velvet eyelashes and hair like threads of spun gold ?” “Yes.” “Is her name Gwendoline?” “It is." “Then I don't see why it shouldn’t - a success.”

Unreal Life of Kings.

This young man—the Kaiser helm—from all I have observed since he became my neighbor in Venice (writes Mr. Zangwill in Astor’s magazine) lives a highly colored dramatie existence, in which there are sixty minutes to every hour and sixty seconds to every minute, the sort of life that should have pleased Walter Pater. He must be a disciple of Nietzsche, a lover of the strong and the splendid, this German gentleman, who is just off to Vienna to prance at the head of 1,500 horsemen. While he lived opposite me it was all excursions and alarums. As a neighbor an emperor is distinctly noisy. And yet. 'tis a strange life, a king's. What an unreal universe of flags and cannons and phrases must monarchs inhabit. Do they think that the streets are always gay with streamers and bunting and triumphal arches, always thunderous with throats of men or guns, always impassable? Do they imagine their subjects pass all their lives in packed black masses, waving hats? Poor kings! I always class them with novelists for ignorance of real life. And to think that they can only get to know life from novels! The Kansas wheat crop will be double that of 1895.