Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 38, Number 94, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 August 1906 — Page 2

One Man’s Evil

CHAPTER XX.VI. (C-winm-fl.i | “We thought it possib!-- that lbw omInement in so small a space might end the matter for us, but if Hubert st,ill lived, it was arranged that George Stanton should conceive ,soma plan of silencing bitn forever. He demanded exorbitant terms from me, and I gave them. 1 was tnad at that time: I would have given all my fortune to have put Hubert Ten by out of my path, not only because he signified my nun, but because Antonia loved him.” “What plan did Stanton suggest to you for silencing yonr victim.?’’ asked Ben Coop in a low voit'e. ' , "I do not know this place to which he took Hubert, bitt be explained to me that it was >1 lonely spfit, and that in the garden at the back of the house there stood an old broken well. This was to ' Se the T Ibis. Ss far as 1 know, is Hubert's grave. Take help, go and search there, and when you have found him. let Antonia kneel and weep upon him. Though he Ik* dead, he must fee) the blesstng of her tearwr*- .■■ Ben Coop stool with his hands pressed to his brow and then to h:s throat. Then* wsas a hardness in the recital of this tragedy that stifled him. “It is well for you to speak so easily," be #gid,/ydieu words would come; "but oh. man. my heart is chilled with horror'. What had that poor lad ever done to you? lie had loved you; that I know, as all the world knows it. We s an." said Ben ’•ternly, as he put bis hand with a grip Of iron on Gerald Tenby's shoulder, "we ■— start, you and I, this very hour to find the body of the lad thou hast destroyed !" : was a strange "journey back from the North: the officials at the small railwaystation had looked curiously at Sir GeraUTimby's companion. But Gerald Ten-~ by seemed sunk in apathy. He moved, he spoke as one in a dream. He was only »bmly conscious of the man who sat beside him in the train ; his thoughts were always with Antonia. London reached. Ben hailed a cab, and with Gerald beside him, drove out once again in the direction of that small house. It was evening. It was a long drive, yet Gerald Tenby never spoke. He sat back in the corner of the hansom with his arms folded across his breast. He.had a stiff, unnatural look. He was so quiet at times that Ben hardly knew what might not happen. A little way from the gate Ben stopped the hansom. He got out. and Gerald Tenby followed him. A shiver ran through the man who had worked such ruin in Hubert's life. Ben bid the cabman wait, then pitting his hand on Gerald's arm, he advanced to the little gate, unlatched it, and passed up that deserted path to the door. Before he could ring the bell or make any sign, the door was opened hurriedly from within and that same small woman's figure came into view. Once again she uttered eagerly the name of the one creature in the that was beloved to her. "Master George, you have come I" she •aid. and then she was silent, and she drew back, for she saw that it was not her master who stood before her. "Have no fear." Ben said to her gently; "we are not here to harm you. I-et ns have a lights we must come in.” But Sarah stood in the passage. "I was tbld by Master George do Tet no one inshe sit id ; “r ight ly or wrongly. 1 have kept my word to him. I cannot Jet you pass." "Your master is not here, poor woman," •aid Bcm, "I fear you will uok see him again for’ some time at least. We IT? here and we must enter; then' is something iu this house that must be searched .into." ; . ■ Then Sarah burst into tears. Covering fc.-r face with her apron, she sank on a chair in the hall, and Ben entered, drawing Gerald Tenby after him.

“Dry your eyesj' saHTB-'n. "and TisteST. Rightly or wrongly, as you have just uni.!, you .have stoi l by your word to your master. 1 fear me it means a great rf.-sl. Pry your ey-’s and answer. Who is ia this house with you?" “Why do you question? Why do you rotne to me like this? What right have you to come into, this house?”“We come to seek some one who was bro.ig'it here, some one who was buried h-'r-'." “Ah!" she said, with a wail in her voice. “I knew it. I knew it: . I told Master George that evil must come. Sirs," Sarah said, rising - o her feet. “I am glad you have come, for now there will be an end. perhaps, to -this .trouble. You say you come to see one who was brought here, to seek one who was buried'here; come with me. I will show you what you have come to find. I did not believe that Master George would leave me so long: but if there is any truth in what you have just told me, then trouble has cOme to him. and I ean fight for him no long- * er. Come with -me .’” She led rhe way along a passage to a room on the ground floor, and the two men followed her, Ben quivering with emotion, ■nd Gerald Tenby stiff, calm, and white though he were no living creature. At the door Sarah paused, then she threw it open and they saw before them ■n empty room save for something shaped like a coffin that stood in the center of the floor, lighted at either end by candles. Th--window-* were closed in by shutters; the room was poor, shabby, old. yet in its way thia resting pl aw of the dead had ■ dignity about it that penetrated even the •tony despair that filled Gerald Tenby's heart. A moan broke from hi* lipa as be stag gnred backward against the wall of the passage. Ben Coop loosed hi* bold and covered ■hi* face with bi* hinds: then he woke ifrom hi* intensity of grief a* he saw (Sarah fail on her knee* by this coffin covpsd with buck, and bunt again into

BY EFFIE ROWLAND

weeping.-—He bent—forward—a-nd-touehqd. her on Uu>- jdwuhier. —i_ . "Why 'do you weep?" he said in .a whisper . “what was this Isd to you?" "lie was all that was left to me," the woman said, her voibe- wrung with anguish': "the child 1 nursed from the day he was born, the one link left to mfcof all that had once made life pleasant and good.” . . ........vlC.—: Ben drew back in his turn. He scarcely knew how to control his feefings. The force of emotion took even the strength from his voice. When he would have questioned, Sarah spoke on. "This is the coffin that holds the body of Walter Griffith Stanton, my master’sbrother," she said ; "I put him into that--myself. [ nailed the wood together. Not woman’s work as a rule, but when a worn an’s heart is eaten'"ttp with grief,- when she is set a task that her soul turns against, then sometimes a woman can do strange work. You look amazed; you do not question. You come to seek some one whom you thought dead. I will show you that some one living." Once again they stood before a door. ilnli, even tone, “it is just a flicker of life. I do not know, indeed, why he has not died a dozen times; but I prayed for his life; L worked to save him. not only for his own sake, poor lad. but because I wished to take away the darkness of a ■grurtr Ttin from” my '.nriratw’flßrati* — She pushed the dor oi»en very quietly and stole into the room. Here all looked -comfortable.—The windows were thrown - open and the summer twilight could be seen through them. - A Hght-was burning close to the bed on which was stretched a still figure—a figure whose, face was turneß froln Hie eyes of those looking eagerly into the re -ni. Ben trod almost norseiessiy over the carpet, and when he reached the bed he knelt down and buried his face in his hands. He knelt there a long time, praying wildly, offering up the gratitude ofc his heart for the mercy that had been vouchsafed for the restoration of this creature whom he loved. And all the while Gerald Tenby stood leaning against the door, gazing with unseeing eyes at the figure of the man that lay on Lhc_bcd. . AYh.elher. Ke wcre conscious of relief or gladness it would be impossible to say. He seemed to have touched the last depths of despair a few hours before, when he had turned and seen Ben Coop standing under the trees, like a judge, waiting to give sentence. Ben drew him out of the room, down the stairs again. When they were in the half Ben threw open the door. “Go,” he said; "you are free! The lad lives, and all the rest will be easy. If he had died 1 would have asked his life at your hands, but heaven has been good enough to take away the worst of your e vil. . Hubert Tenby lives; the rest is not for my hands. Go I" And then Gerald Tenby woke to the feelings of the siru.lt ion. "V\ here shall 1 go?” he asked hoarsely. "What place is there in life for me? You don’t know what it is. man. to stand as I do and look absolute ruin in the face!" Ben put out his hand and rested it upon the shoulder of the other man. ‘There is no life so bad and black that it cannot be changed, lad," he said. "There is always atonement. Turn and face Yhis like a uuu.—The world need not know the truth. I*ll answer for it that my lad will do you no hardship-—rather will Jhe be your friend. Turn and face it,” said Bon again; "make haste to render up I hat which is not you rs -; make- haste to give back to the lad that which is dearer tn him than wealth —his unstained honor. Be true in this, and much will be forgiven you."

CHAPTER XXVII. And the next day Antonia stood at the gate of that ftttic house. — A message hint been sent to her as early as Beu could manage to dispatch it : ■ . ■ "Hubert is found. Com.' here at'on'ce.” Antonia walked up the narrow staircase. It seemed to her incredible that the end of this awful anxiety had come aF last, that Hubert was found, that within the next two or three minutes she would see him. jterhaps touch his hand, though he might not speak to her. She made very little noise on the stairs, but Sarah heard her coming, and as the girl stood in the doorway, so beautiful in her simple whit? draperies, the older woman covered her fate with her hands. Then, as Antonia moved up to the bedside, she passed out of the room and left the girl alone with her lover. . A day or so later a modest funeral left that little house. The hearse was followed by one carriage, in which sat Sarah, Ben and Antonia. These two Mt that though they were strangers in name, a rommon bond of sympathy linked them in with this solitary, humble woman. who had played, innocently, so great a part in Hubert’s life. „ There were many, many heart-breaking days before peace began to dawn for Antonia's heart. There was much to darken the happiness that should have been hern. Not e’ven the knowledge (batherdear one was tTtvping slowly back to health could lift from the girl's heart the Shadow that fate had thrown upon it. There was always her uncle's death to haunt her; and, even sharper and mure hurtful than this, the memory of Gerald Tenby’s self sought death. This death was hushed up. The world never knew exactly what had happened. and for a time this same world was full of consternation and even-regret -for th* untimely death of one who possessed so much as Gerald Tenby had done. I’drhaps on no one did the report of this death make a deeper impression than Upon a certain Englishman who lived under an assumed name in the only land where the hand of justice could not reach hi*

Thy man Stephens had found him ana boldly taxed him with ail-that-had been done, bin Stanton had not hesitated to buy this man’s silence. Yet, at ths same _Arusted„so .liule to cfhis that. h« had gone as quickly as he could to Spain. had wished to set the law upon him. in- could remainuntouched. Antonia and Hubert were married very quietly, At tip- giri's own desire, this marriage took plus' up in the North. “it hr a long wav for you to travel, dear." she said to Lady Charlotte Singleton, "but I want you to take this journey. I do not feel that I should be married properly if you yyere not there." Simple as the wedding was, a rumor of it had spread in the village, and outside thy church all the people who had known the bride and bridegroom as children gathered together to give their blessing and their good tliotight s on Their marriage day, and as “Hubert came oiTCoftlie’church with his wife leaning on his arm, the veil thrown back over her face, her eyes shining like stars, her sweet lips sthiling, a cheer went up that was irresistible and Jieartfclr —a cheer that brought the tears to Antonia’s eyes and made her heart leap. As they. ’were alone ,in the carriage together she turned to her husband. "Oh, dearest I" she said. “I am almost too happy. What can I do to show my gratitude?” ‘.'Love me, Antonia,” said Hubert; “my dear, dear wife, love me, and help me to walk through life-as you have walked "yotirsclL I. too, feel that my heart ia overcharged; but that is natural, dear, 1 for we have passed through auch dark, chill shadows that we are almost afraid to. greet, the sunshine , now that it has come." The carriage* drove along briskly, it turned in at the gates of Mill Cross Court, for, following an old custom. Hubert had carried his wife away direct “frOm the church to his own home, and there sioed Antonia’s fatber and his sister Bertha, with her little children, ready to welcome them, to say tender words, iiyil to assure them that life was indeed blessed with happiness. Later on in the day Sir Hubert and Lady Tenby left the North to travel abroad for a time. When they were gone Ben had a sense of desolation pressing upon him that he could not put into words, and a)l at once, yielding to a sudden imp u 1 so, lie turned “a nd went to the” village. There in a little cotthge dwelt a stately, beautiful womffn, who was known to be a great singer, and whom none of the old villagers recognized by her.new. name; Ben t-ame. to her as she aa tby tb« fire in the gloaming. hewrrid; “I «rnnot dive her« any longer; J am going back to the lift I lived for so many years. I have coma to .say good-by, Liz!”

The woman stood a moment with her hands pressed to her heart, then, with a cry she flung herself upon his breast. "(Jo if yon will, Ben," she said, wildly; “but take me with you.” .- When Christmas came again| clear, bright, sparkling Christmas, and Antonia's cup of happiness was complete—for she held her first-born in her arms—■ a sudden thought came to her. She sent for Ben, and as she watched him holding that small atom of humanity in his great, strong hands she .put- her thought into words. •‘I want you to go to London for me, Ben.” she said; “go to Sarah, tell her that a little life here has need of her. I thinff she will come with you.” And Ben's face lighted up. “I think she will.” he answered. And two or three days later he came back from that journey to London, and Sarah traveled with him, and as she held the infant in her arms she broke into tears, and Antonia know that, old as she was. this new gift of duty had lifted~d<P spair from the woman's heart. And Sarah reigned at Mill Cross Court, a sovereign in her way. She was supposed to rule the children, but in reality they ruled her, and then, if they could not get their way with Sarah, they trotted off to a certain cottage that stood on the outskirts of the grounds, where lived Ben Coop and his beauiful wife. •T believe,” Hubert Tenby would say laughingly sometimes, "I do believe that Sarah and Ben together regard those children as their property and not burs, I am half inclined to be jealous." And Antonia answered him once by a question/ ~ “Am I not enough for you, then, my dear one?” And Hubert Tenby caught his wife in his arms and held her pressed to his heart in silence fraught with eloquence : for though years had gone by since the day of their union, their love had grown truer, deeper, more lasting as the vears had■ passed. - (The End.)

A Valuable Dog.

• Mark Twain is immensely popular switlr the farmers living around “Quarry Farm,’’ ills summer home near Elmira, N. Y. He and his jieighbors exchange experiences and both profit thereby. The genial humorist tells of one farmer « ho purchased a- hunting dog that was highly recommended to him by a man v. ho did not seem particularly reluctant about parting it. When the dog was delivered the farmer looked it over with considerable misgivings. It seemed shy and bashful.and hardly the animal it was cracked up to be. Anxious to give it a trial, however, ho took it out shortly afterwards and. as luck would have it. ran across a fox. The dog took after the fox and the two were soon cut of sight, the farmer following as rapidly as be could. Finally he met another farmer who, in response to his inquiry, stated that they had passed in Ids direction. Asked as to how they Here running, the second farmer replied : "Wall, it was nip and tuck, but I thtfik. the dog was about three feet ahead.”—jj. Maxwell Beers, in Lippincott's.

New Danger.

First Horse —What make* you so ft isky? Second Horse—l've Just been in a stieet parade and had to walk behind tin automobile so long that it gave me a gasoline jag.—Detroit Free Pres*.

Honey.

Honey is a good substitute for c*J liver oil Afterthoughts are sometimes bsst Woman was an afterthought

FARM AND GARDEN

A good season to raise bay often means a poor season to make It Fine emery and oil will make a good paste with -which to brighten tools. The grass crop that the corn grower does npt care to see prosper Is the foxtail grass. The head may be said to be in good working order when it can be used to save the hands. These agents should be In close co-operation. A man might as well attempt to drink the Pacific ocean dry as to attempt to whip fright out of a horse. When a horse Is frightened It will require different tactics. The man whenever reads is Incapable of doing much thinking, and he pits hie muscle against the other man’s business qualification brought about by thinking, and thus works on the short end of the doubletree. A boy can make no greater mistake, from the standpoint of his own welfare, than to choose a rich man for his father. Nothing generates snap like poverty. When it is "root hog or die” one generally finds some well directed rooting. Horseradish is a difficult plant to eradicate, but if plowed out when In full leaf and the plant is prevented from making new roots during- the summer, it will go a long ways toward discouraging it. If disturbed during the dormant season only, it Will not have mucH" effect on 11.

The fairest boss a hired man can have is the one who works along with his man, for he has an idea what work Is and how much ought to be performed In a given time. No-one who does not "work" caiFbei in~Sympatßy with labor. The hired man is today better paid than any* other laborer of like character. ; Nothing saves time better in bush fruit growing than planting wide enough apart to cultivate with a harrow and team Instead of a cultivator. When the land is cultivated, less than half the time is taken than by the usual method. This encourages more frequent tillage and consequent Increase of crops. Toads should rank next to birds as insect destroyers in the orchard and garden. The toad is not as handsome as a bird, but has a large omnivorous appetite; feeds under the leaves where the birds cannot go, has neither a bite nor a sting for anyone, and is one of the best friends the gardener has. Everything possible should be done to encourage their Increase. If one peach is two inches In diameter and another Is three inches, bow much larger is the latter than the former? Just half as big again? Oh, no! That would be a bad guess. It is three and three-eighths times as large. Don't you believe it? Let your boy ask the school teacher, and if the teacher doesn't know, ask anyone that is “way up on mathematics.” It is better for a peach tree to bear three bushels of large peaches than throe.bushels of small peaches. Why? Because the large peach Is mostly juice —water —but the small peach is mostly pit—dry matter. It is very hard on a tree to mature a big crop of pits, but not so hard to produce a big crop of fruit. Thin the peaches severely and the tree will live longer, other things being equal.

In the efforts to make potato spraying popular among the farmers of the state, the Netv York Experiment Station at Genera has been carrying on co-operative tests with in all parts of the state. As a result ofthe spraying carried on by forty-one farmers on a total of 360 acres, the average gain due to spraying #as fifty-eight bushels per acre, at a cost of about $5 per acre, giving a net' profit of about $22 per acre, after paying the expense of spraying. As a result of this good work it is asserted that the practice of spraying is on the increase in New Ycfrk. How to Get Alfalfa Started. Early attempt* with alfalfa are likely to prove a failure unless the peculiar requirements of the young plants are thoroughly understood and the many pitfalls guarded against. It is best to start with a small patch—an acre or less—and to make from four to eight subdivisions and give each a different treatment as regards fertilizer, lime, method of seeding, etc. In this way the experience which would otherwise require a number of seasons to procure can be obtained at the end of the first year. t rropa**tl»K Apple Tree*. Apples are propagated either by root grafting or by budding on seeding stocks. If' the former is employed, scions of the varieties chosen ara united to 1-year-old roots by the whip, or tongue grafting method. Sometimes ■bort scions and long roots are used.

tn which case the result is called a whole root graft, and sometimes long sciona 'and short pieces of roots ata used, when the result is known as a piece root graft Root grafting is done at any time during winter or early spring. If budding is resorted to, the seedling stocks are lined out in spring and budded close to the ground in summer by the T-buddlng, or shield-bud method. _. = Goose Good Layer. Often difficulty is experienced In getting the old farmyard geese to lay early in the season, but that may be surmounted if the Chinese variety be more extensively kept. The Chinese goose is a most prolific layer, and the flesh makes excellent eating. So long as the huge fat geese are not in demand, the smaller, and more profitable Chinese may be taken up with advantage. Perhaps the best crossbred goose for .general early marketing purposes is that produced from mating a Chinese gander with a Toulouse goose, but if a larger supply of eggs is required, the mating should be reversed. In either case the youngsters are extremely hardy, growing and feathering more quickly than any other breed or cross. They should attain a weight of eight or nine pounds by the end of the summer with very little hand feeding.

Anaonu Growing in Favor. The value of grade Angora goats, says Americaii Sheep Breeder, depends chiefly ou how well they are bred. Low grade Angoras with only two or three crosses of Angora blood should" worth iu Oklahoma $2.50 or $2.75 a head. A better grade of Angoras, say three-quarter blood, probably would cost $3.50 a head. Mohair is worth this year from 25 to 40 cents a pound, depending upon the length, fineness and condition of the hair. There is no doubt. Mr. Blair, about the future of the Angora business. The Angora Is already a national institution in this country and is here to stay, and we are pleased to say to £ou that Angoras are growing steadily in favor each year. On new, wild, brushy land they are simply Invaluable and a hundred of them are worth more to clear up a new farm than the best two woodsmen that ever wielded an axe, because they clean it up thoroughly, leaving no live roots or sprouts behind them.

Strawberry Planting. If you do not have a strawberry bed In your garden and want one, August is a good time to start it, provided you plant pot-grown plants. These pot-grown plants are runners which were roofed in pots early iiiTfie season. You could not use at this season plants which had not been pot-grown because the pots would be so badly damaged in the transplanting that they could not furnish the plant with the amount of water which It would demand. That kind of plant, known as “layer plants” may be set out in September, but they would not give you any fruit next spring under ordinary cultivation, while pot-grown plants set out in August will bear next spring. In a bed 10x20 feet, one may grow 100 plants. If the soil Is a heavy clay thoroughly work into it a dressing several Inches In thickness, of coal ashes, and half a ton of manure, before setting the plants. As soon as the ground freezes, spread another half ton of manure over the bed as a mulch. The following spring, as soon as the first leaves show above the mulch, pull the manure away ?rom the crowns of the plants, and work It Into the soil. Such a bed will bear more strawberries than a family of three can eat fresh. Insect Pests. The poultry house absolutely free ot lice and' mites Is the happy exception and not the general rule. One must be ever vigilant and constantly aggressive in ftie warfare against these pests in order to even keep them in subjection, says Mattle Webster In Poultry Topics. When a breeder tells me that not a louse or mite can be found In bls or her poultry domain I cannot help thinking that a thorough investigation of the houses would discover some of these torments bidden away undpr perches or In some dirk corner. Why this doubt of my brother or sister breeder’s assertion, do you ask? Well, the time was when I made like assertions, and thought truthfully, but I had a rude awakening from my dream of louseless and nilteless bousA and fowls. Just as soon as I became aware of the presence of Hee a general cleaning was the order of the day, but never since have I declared as systematically as In the times before I discovered the unwelcome residents that there were neither lice nor mites In my poultry bouse. Whether you know that there are lice or mites present or not. it will do ao harm to treat the houses as If you were sure the unwelcome Insects were there. Spray the perches often with kerosene and crude carbolic acid mixed, or with some one of the good lice,killers on the market and occasionally dust the fowls well with a good insect powder.

THE WEEKLY HISTORIAN

1388 —Douglas slain at battle of Chevy Chase, England. 1514 —Peace concluded among England, France and Scotland. 1540-—htnry VIII. of England martial Catherine Howard. 1673 —New York surrendered to the Dutch. 1675 — Greenwich Observatory established. 1757—Fort _ Montcalm. 1792 —The Swiss Guard killed in an attack on th Tuilleries in Paris. 1809 —Non importation act proclaimed by President Madison. 1813 —Battle of Stonington, Conn. 1815—Napoleon embarked” for St Helena. 1821 —Missouri admitted as a State. 1827—George Canning, English statesman, died, 1830 — Louis Philippe proclaimed King oi France. 1841 —Steamer Erie burned on Lake Eriei; 175 lives lost. 1846— David Wilmot introduced his proviso in Congress..... Smithsonian Institution at Washington founded. 1852— Permission granted to M. Thiera and other political exiles to return to France. li___ 1858—Ottawa made the capital of Canada. —— 1861— Hampton, .Va., burned... .Battle Wilson’s Creek. Mo. 1862 — President Lincoln called for 300,000 men for nine months. 1870 — Paris declared in a state of siega Franco-German war. 1871 — Celebration of the Sir Waltei Scott centenary at Edinburgh. 1873 —Steamer Wawasset burned on Potomac river; thirty-five lives lost. 187T —-Marshal Bazaine escaped from th< Isle of Ste. Marguerite. 1878 — International monetary confer ence opened at Paris... .Beginning oi the Austro-Bosian war. 1880 — Dr. Tanner successfully complete! a fast of forty daya. 1881 — Transvaal ceded to the Boers. Republic proclaimed. 1883—Dynamite conspirators at Liver pool sentenced to penal servitude fol life.

1884 — Oklahoma “boomers” ousted from Indian Territory by United State! troops.... Severe earthquake fell along Atlantic coast. 1885— -Imposing funeral of Gen. Grant li New York. 1887 — Hawaii adopted a new constitutioi ....One hundred excursionists killed in railroad wreck at Forest, 111. 1888— -Maxwell, the murderer of Charlei A. Preller, hanged in St. Louis.... Larry Donovan, American bridgt jumper, leaped from Hungerford bridge, London, and was drowned. 1889 — Mrs. Florence Maybrick , found guilty of murdering her husband ii Liverpool. 1891—United States vessels ordered ti China because of disturbance. 1893 — Geary act enforced. First China'. man deported from San Francisco... Forty-third Congress convened in extraordinary session. Subject, Sherman act..... . Severe earthquak! shocks in California. 1894 The yacht Britannia beat the Vig ilant at Cowes.. .Earthquake shock! felt in Memphis, Tenn... .ttreat 'Britain declared neutrality in tht Korean war. 1895 — British steamer Cliattertimn foundered near Sydney, N. S. M/; fiftyfour lives lost. 1899—Retrial of Dreyfus begun at Rennes... .Hurricane in West I» dies; 2,000 drowned. 1903 — Pope Plus X. crowned. ~ , Lieut Gen. Nelson A. Miles, U. S. A., ro tired. 1904 — Seventy-six persons killed ii wreck on Rio Grande railroad neai Pueblo, C 010... .British force, undei Col. Younghusband, entered Lnssa. 1905 — President Roosevelt addl-ehsed largt meeting es miners at Pa.... St. Thomas P. E. church, New York City, destroyed by fire.

Roosevelts as Bird Defenders.

Speaking for Mr*. Roosevelt and himself, th* President, in a letter to Wik liaia Dutcher, head of th* National Av ■delation of Audubcfa Societies, expresaei deep sympathy with th* effort* to prevent th* *al« and us* es white heron plumes known in th* military trad* as "aigrette*.” The President say* that, if anything, Mr*. Roosevelt feel* more strongly than, he docs in the matter. Recently Quean Alexandra of England has made « similar expression. '

A New Artificial Respirator.

The Literary Digest translate* from Ia Nature th* description of a new apparatui invented by Dr. Eisenminger of Szaaa varo*. Hungary, for th* purpose of inducing abdominal breathing in th* reauack ration of persons apparently drowned. D consist* st a culraas fitted tightly about th* body, th* chamber of which ia com meted by tub* with a bellows. Th* sly b then alternately compressed and ezhausb ed, thus causing the internal organs an 4 th* diaphragm to rise and fall rythmically Aa incidental advantage ia heart massagi at a time when the Innga are fuff of all