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About The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899 | View Entire Issue (March 3, 1898)
JA Ik V1- 6,VV word from her to prostrate himself at .'
VI JJaTvfcSBf N-Sf3'1 her feet, w -tiil" i;.,-, r i him ii n-,. . -n t
f WiS-!fnr "Hate yn : says Gower, with intense A most fatal
J,'TfhitR7- uViMt feeling. "Whatever joy or sorrow cuii.'-s i lips sic so 'in
31 WkJ Ik!''" r. 7W3 f this hi. nr. I shall always know that I 1 ai.-oiunlv refc-
rWrri HPO i i really lived in the (lavs whi ii I knew ! words
Ml I would die f'.r you." j
"J altiioht think I do wi-b it." s-ns i
It Is two days later. Everyone is sit
ting out on the verauda. Though late in
Septen.lier, it is still "one of ;hose heav
enly days that cannot die." The sun is
warm in the heavens, though gradually
sinking, poor, tired god, toward his hird
earned test. There are many (oftly-eolor-ed
clouds in the iiky.
Tea in brought to them presently, tind
pluius for Dicky; and then they ire ill -for
the most part happy. Tint in, all
except lulce and Roper, who are spar
ring covertly, but decidedly, while Jubii.
who never sees anything, is fostering the
dtsput" by unmeant, but most ill-judging,
remurl.s. Stephen Gower has gone aay
from them to have a cigarette ia
' Du!i t and Roger are alone after a time.
She has brought affairs to a climax. Si
lence follow, that lasts for a full minute
a long time in such a easel, and then
"I think it is time inis most mistaken
-engage ment of ours should come to m
-end." she says, quietly.
"That is as you wish, of course." re
plies he. "But fully nnders'and tne: if
you l.irak w ith rue now, it shall he at once
ejid tY.ever." j
"Voiir maimer is almost a threat," she
gays; ' it will he difficult to you, no doubt,
but 1 ease do try to believe it will be a
very great joy to tne to part from you
'at ot.re and forever.' "
'Tin a nothing more remains to be said,
only this: it will be better for you that
Facie Christopher should be told I was
'te Oti? to cud this engagement, not "
"Why";" initial i.-ti-Sy.
i '"On ir-i-oiint of the will, of course. If
-yon ill say I have refused to marry you.
f'-tv v.:.! go to you.
. 1 .... .t t .
,! von nave reiuseo me. sns .m"
. with extreme indignation. " -r-I
shall never pay that never!
Yoti can say with truth I have refused to
marry y..u, but nothing else.
u'ter insanity, says tiorer.
' For the sake of a ridiculous
i-ii are voluintiily resigning a
a! of money."
mild resign the mines of (lolcondu
with. plest ii
:'ian do that. I would far rather
than give you tlie satisfaction of
; ou have Riven me up!"
c has a very considerable fortune
own that nothing can interfere
o finds it naturally the very sim
in in the world to talk lightly
: should I say that for?" asks
can I tell? I i.nly know- von are
o -ay it." returns -he, willfully.
are too sill v to iirciie witn, pro-
turriine away will) a shriiK.
P.iii.iiiiiir down the steps of the balcony
Dulce. with her wrath "till burning hotly
within her. (roes alone the carden path
and so past the small bridge, and the
river, and the nuphty beeches that are
waving to tnd fro. Turning the corner,
she comes sitcdenly upon Gower. who is
still smokine cigarettes, and no doubt day
dreaming about her.
"Yon have escaped from somebody,"
he says to her. in some surprise, Dulce
being a person rery little given to solitude
or her mvr, society undiluted.
"It r.pueara I haTe not," rerurna he,
"Well, I shan't trouble yon long; I can
take Myself off in no time," he says, good
humoredly, drawing to one side to let her
"No no; you can stay with me if you
care to," she says, wearily, ashamed of
"Care!" he ityn, reproachfully; and
then, eoming nearer to her, "yon are jn
fc.ippy! Something has happened!" he
says, quickly, "what 1 it?"
"Nothing unhappy," says Dulce, in a
clear, soft voice; "certainly not thnt.
Something yery different; something, in
deed, I have been longing ami hoping for
for week, for months, nay, all my life, I
"And " aaya Stephen.
"I bare broken oflf my engagement
A great, bappy gleam awakes within bia
dark ejea. Instinctively be takea a step
nearer to her, then checks himself and
draws hla breath quickly.
"Are yon aure?" be says, in a earefully
ctilm ton, "art yon sure yon have done
wisely? I mean, will this be for your
own food T'
"Yea, yaa, of connst," with fretful im
patient. "It was my own doing. I
"How d!4 It all come about?" oaks he,
"Ob, it doesn't matter," says Dulce,
throwing oat one hand in a quick, nervous
fashion. "Nothing matters mncb, does
It? And now that we arc on it, I will an
swer yoor question. I beileve if I were
the only wassaa in the world Roger would
never bava area Ilksd aal Ha accmrd
glad, thankful, when 1 gre hlra hla re
lease; almoat," steadily, "as glad as 1 was
to glva itr
"Wart ym fladT' aaks Gower, eagerly,
doing n ta her, h takea her hand and
holds It with ancoaaeloas fore ia both his
"You at least do not hat ma," she says,
with a faint, aohWag cadeaca in bar
voiea, that desolates bat awse'aai it. Her
Hp qivr. Ia very truth ah la thaak
fal la Bias la a aaaanr. Har heart warm
la hla. Thar la to har a comfort la the
dsMffct ia maafort aba weald hav shrank
tmm ackaowiatitag rra to baratif) la the
eavtatety taat ha waaid ba oaly taa atwM,
tta laaa to ba to bar what aaatbar
might haa triad to b bat would art.
Hart ia (Ma aaa bafar bar, willing at a
yiiu. My heart, and mjui. and lif". are all
yours to do with as you will. 1 am com
pletely at your mercy. If you wi-hel it
1 would die for you."
"I alnmst think I do wi-b it." sits
Dulce, w ith a faint little lauph. but there
is i kindiic-s iu her voice new to it. and
just f.t'ce she lifts her eyes and looks at
him shyly, but sweetly.
"You will marry me." he says, "when
you think of everything." There is a
meaning in his tone she cannot fail to
"Would you," she says. trenni!oti-!y,
"marry a woman who does not are for
"W hen you are oncf my w i'e. I wiil
teach yi. u to care for me. Su-h love as
mine must create a return."
Sim is now as pale as death. She lifts
her hand and lays it impulsively aai'ist
his lip-, as though to prevent his further
speech. She is trembling a little ifrom
anger, -he tells herself 1, and her breith
is corning quickly and unevenly; e-
stands for a moment collecting herself,
with her lingers pressed against his iips,
and then the agitation dies, and a strange
coldness takes its place.
"Yoii are sure you love me?" she ji-kn,
at length, in a hard, clear voice, so tin
like het u-11.1l soft tone, that it star'les
even h rself.
"My beloved, can't rcu see ii ?" he says,
with deep emotion.
"Verv well, tli'-n: T 'Hi marry you j
sotn' day. And and to-morrow it rnuv
be to-morrow you will let Roger know
I am engaged to you? You quite under
He does, though he wiil not acknowl
edge it even to himself.
"I'ulce, my own soul!" be eays, bro!:en
!y; and kneeling on (he grns nt her feet
he lifts Kith her ban. is aid pres-e them
passionately to his lips.
They tire so .'old mid lifeless that they
chill him to his very heart.
The days have grow n shorter and short
er. Daylight now is to be pricd, not
sported with, as in the gny and happy
-ummer. "The inaudible and noi.s"!ess
foot of Time" has carried us from "Gold
en September" to bleakest winter, and
into that month which claims Christmas
:". its own.
At the Hail everything Is very much the
same as it was when last we saw it, if we
except the fact that Roger is absent. lie
is abroad; so much abroad, indeed, that
nobody knows where he is. A week after
his departure he had written to Sir Chris
topher, and the week after that again to
Mark Gore; but beyond these two mea
ger attempts at correspondence no news
has been heard from him. W hether, as
Mr. Browne has elegantly expressed 11.
"he is up the Nile, r,;- up the Spout," is u
ma'ter of speculation.
Sir Christopher is looking a little older,
a little graver. He is not so testy as of
yore, a change that filis Dulce' heart
with misgivings. Tdjat he has fretted
greatly over her broken engagement with
Rog.-r (who is to the old baronet as near
as his own son should have been, md
second only to Fabian In his affections!
she well knows: she well knows, too, bow
magnanimously to pleasp her he has
tried to be civil to Stephen Goa-er, and
to welcome him with cordiality as his fu
To-day is melancholy, cold, and bleak.
The winds are sighing, the earth is bare
and nara, "o vestige of a fresh and com
ing life can yet be seen. Upon the gray
sands, far away, the white waves dash
themselves, the sea birds shriek,"and
"blasting keen snd loud roll the white
surges to the sounding shore.'' Indoors
there Is warmth and comfort.
Portia, passing by Dulce's door, and
finding it open, pauses before it, and final
ly, after some hesitation, she crosses the
threshold. Dulce, coming np-stairs, pres
ently, finds ber sitting over the Ore, in an
attitude that betokens the very deepest
"You here, alone," she says, gayly,
stooping over her in caressing fashion.
"Naughty girl. You should have told me
you were going to honor me with your
presence, and I would have made my
room gay to receive you."
"I don't want you to make a stranger
of me. I like your room a it is," says
Fortia, with a smile.
"Well, don't sit crouching over the fire;
it will spoil your complexion; come over
to the window, and see what the st jnn
has done, and how lovely nature can look
even when robed In winter's garb."
Tortia, rising, follows her to the win
dow, but as she reaches it sbe sinks again
wearily Into a lounglng-chair, with all
the air of one whose limbs refuse obsti
nately to support ber.
As both girls gaze out upon the chilly
landscape, wbite here and there with
snow that fell last night, Fabian, coming
from between the dark-green branches
of an ancient lauristiuus, with two rd
setter at his heels, and a gun upon hi
shoulder, passes beneath the window, go
ing in the direction of the borne wood.
Leaning forward Dulce tap lightly on
the pane, and Fabian, hearing the quick
sound, stops short, and lift bis eye to
the window. As he sees bis pretty sis
ter, be nod to her, and a blight amiie
creep round his lips, rendering hi al
ways hsndaomt face actually beiutiful
for the moment.
Only for a moment; hla gut wander
ing Instinctively, falls on I'ortU, standing
pale and calas baside her cousin. Their
eye meet, and as If by magic the mil
die, hi llpa grow straight and eald again,
and withoat another glaaec, be torn the
corner, aad la rapidly oat of alght.
"Doar Fablaa poor darling," aaya
Dnlce, tenderly, who baa aatictd oaly f b
kladlr mll rouohaafad for bar. "Haw
aad he always look. Kvaa hla aanila la
more mournful than the tear of other.
What a tartiblt preaaara Va baa laid
Uin h.m. He- - p.iie you re, For
tial What i it. deaiesi? I sin uie you
are nut well to-day."
"I tun quite well. I am on! mid. it"
on." speaking w.iii -on,.- J . til tilt y j "jou
were saying Willi1: liing ab-.M- Fitbmu."
"1 think o mii.-li nf Imii that it is a i"
lief to talk sometime-: hut I won't 111. ik
you doleful. ii,;y. now thai v., 4 kim.v
hiiii vvhcu urn have In-ill l-h-.r h the
same roof w ith him for -i-
it with your V u f-.
"How you catechize 11
with :i painfully baid a!
eri-T that doc-i not imp-"
av aUen'flg -n-p'c:oriS r.f
iii- .-Hit. "Let lis ohiiig.
"In on moment. I
.:ie." niy IVrfa,
:i.pi ai iti'i Iter
i- up ,:i the si . 'y
the o-her fur one
1 the subject."
n-Hi.t an answer
to my I'l)e-'io:i !!!'. Now that V'CJ line
se. :i ami kiionn I'abiaii, do ;,ou bei.eic
U-r.ee follows. Portia'
mid par h'-i that they
to gi e 11! ter-i :c e to anv
Ia lain !:" triis to conq ier the
-s that is o erpow ering .'.er. but
do not trouble yo'.ir-e f to answer
is Dulce. in col l. cut':, ig tones. " I
no :,rs. 1,0 prery -pee. ric-; l hank
t least that you have spiked me
In yo:;' son! I can see o.n thl:,k
him guiliv of ihis shan.efii! deed. Oh! it
is hoii.b.'e!" She cov.-.-s ber face w;ih
both her hand-, and mays a bnle. as one
might who is, indeed, hurt to d" i'h. "And
yon. too," she sa; s, fainily, "the only one
or all our fr;c::d. And 1 so trusted y.u.
I so !oed you!"
"Dulce!" cries poor Portia, in mi agon
ized tone, "hear me!"
"No, I will not listen. I have tru-ti l
you too far already. Ob!" piteously,
"you who have seen him, and have
noticed tile benuM, ihe sweet, 11-s of his
life, how could you b .ve misjudged him?
Rut," with vehemen: anger, "your nar
row mind could not .appreciate him. You
l:i' k generosity. You could not gra-p the
fact thHt there might be In this wide
world such a thing as undiscovered
wrong. You condemned without a hear
ing. Why," growing calmer, "there have
been hundreds of cases where the inno
cent have suffered for the guilty."
"I I new- it," says Portia, fever: -'i!y,
taking Dulce's band and trying to drs-w
her toward l.er; but the girl re. 'oils.
"Do not touch me." she says. "There
i t o lotjc, r any fr end-hif. between 11-."
"ill:! Dube, do ;. ,t say that," en treat a
Portia. 1 :i in! :i!,y.
'I .'il say ;t. All is at an end as far
us love between u- is concerned. Fabian
is par of me. I cannot wp.ir.ne my-eif
from liim. His friends are m.i,e. His
ilf-riutors are mine also. I will not for
give thim. I believe liim saint, ton
be!Vve him !!','.( d, and tainted w '.ih the
crime of forgery. And ih.s one thing I
am rr-ilved on. He shall no longer be
left, in ignorance of your worn: h-" -Ii 1 H
not tiny more spend his afT-"ti n upon
one v. ho regards him with disdain; be
shall know the truth before the day die.-!"
"Have you no pit)?" Bays Portia,
"Have you none? You condemned him
"h! r.ot willingly."
"I con't care, you have condemned
"If jou only think, you will see "
"Don't speak to me, I hate yon," siys
Mis I'doiint, growing undignified because
of be,- deep grief and agitation. "And
don't think you can turn me from my pur
pose. I shall te'l him what you think of
him before this evening passes, be sure
"There !s no tired to tell him," says
Portia, in so low a tone that Dulce can
scarcely hear her. "lie he knows al
ready!" Portia, to che'-fc the sob that rises In
her throat, tightens her c!ap on Dulce's
hand. The unwonted sharpness of her
pressure rouses Dulce. 'ihe en'reme
pain and grief she sees In Portia's eyes
awakens her to the truth; she draws her
breath a little quickly and lays her hand
impulsive! upon ber cousin's bare white
"You suffer, too you!" she says, in a
whisper full of surjclse. "Oh, Portia! is
it th-tt you love him!"
"Has It taken you so long to discover
that?" says Portia, reproachfully.
"Oh, that you could believe In him!"
"If I could, I should be too deeply
blessed. Yet Is it that I do not believe,
or that I dread the world's disbelief?
That is the sting. To know that a stain
lies on the man I love, to know that
others distrust him, and will forever pass
him by on the other side. That i the
horror. Dulce, I am ignoble, I fear many
things; the future terrifies me; but yet, as
I am so wTetcbed, dear, dear Dulce, take
me back into your heart!"
She burst into tears. They are so
strange to her and have been so long de
nied, that by their very vehemence they
frighten Dulce. She takes Portia In her
arms, and clings to her; and, pressing
her Hps to her cheek, whispers to her
fondly that she Is forgven, and that from
her soul she pities her,
From Chriktmas day to New Yetr's
day is but a week but what a week it ia!
It ia very nearly at an end now; tbe
shadows bar fallen long ago; the night
wind has arisen; the snow that all day
long has been falling slowly and steadily,
still falls, as if quite determined never
again to leave off.
They are all sitting in the library, It
being considered a snugger room on such
a dreary evening than tbe grander drawing-room.
Stephen Gower, who ba jnst
come In, la standing by the center-table
with hi back to It, and I telling them
some little morsel of scandal about a
near neighbor. It ia a bare crumb, yet It
! received with avidity, and gratitude,
and much laughter, so devoid of Interest
hav been all the other hour of tbe day.
Nobody quite understand bow it now
i with Dulce and Stephen. Tbey have
recently had quarrel, but It seem to
have been patched up, and aa far aa an
ordinary eye can see, tbey are on as
good terms with each other aa usual.
Just now she 1 laughing oven nvor
merrily than the rest at hla llttl story,
when the door opens, and Sir Ohrlatopher
and Fsblsn enter together.
Sir Christopher 1 plainly very angry,
and U declaring In an extromaly audlbla
voice that "he will submit to It no
longer ;" b furthermore innonaco that
be baa "seen too much of it," whatever
"It" may bo, aad that for tba fatara aa
will "tura oor a wry dlffaraat laaf." I
wonder how many tima la tba 7ar thla
lattar declaration la mad by trarybod?
Fabian, who la u Marly oamorod by bia
vehemence, layrng hi baad apoa bia
unci sbouldar, load blm np to tba Aw
plara and lata tba hagt ara-ehalr, that
f '- rarpotual ahldlag pUc.
"What is itr asks Sir Mark, looking
"San e -Id story." Fabian, In a low
voii-c, itb a -light shrug of his shoulders.
S ju.e. Drink. A'-couuts anyhow. And
lipsy insolence, iutoad of proper eiplana
'iiui." A- Poioim tiii.shes. he draws his
lei aiii hastily, as though heartily sick
and tiled of ihe whole buine.
Now that he is standing within the
glare i t tlie lire, .ne can see how altered
he I- of laie. His i-heeka are sunken, his
iii's pa!e. Tbere is. too, a want of energy
slont liim, a languor, a lit!pies, that
Seems to llHII gri.Mll Upon ll 1 in with
-'range rapidity, und which suggests the
pi.s--i.iHty thnt life lias become rather a
hiiide.'i than u favor.
Mov.ag her gown to one side. Portia
'iii.p- iii 'I to this action by some impulsive
f'i'cei sej-h, in a low tone:
"Con e and s:t here, Fabian." motion
in t.'t.tly m tbe seat beside her.
Bu thank ng her with grave courte.v.
vers a :
In-s her imitation, and. with an
-cd face. on wHi bis eon-
01 wiih Sir Mark. I'.rtia. flush
ly in the kindly dark, shrinks back
n ber-e f. and linking in r fingers
!v toeetb' r tries bravely to ciu-b the
I teeliijcta of -haiiio and regret that
1 r.s- w .ili n tier bn a-i.
"I 1 an .'and ri!iu"t iinylii ig myself, I
cot.fe, but insolence," S i Mark is say
ing, apropo, of intcxicriie.l old secre
tary. 'T? tak-s jt out of one so. I have
put no with the niost gross careb-ssness
rath t than change my man. but insolence
fpuu that class jM insufferable. I sup
pose." say s Sir Mark, meditatively, shift
ing h'- glass from his leit to his right eye,
"it is her a use one can't return it."
"Hue can dismiss the fellow, though,'
says Sir f'liristoph.-r. still fuming. "And
go Slynie shall. After all rny kindness to
him. too. to -peak as he did to night! The
creature is positively without gratitude.
Now, not a word. Fabian: when mv mind
Is made up las you all knowi it is made
up, and nothing can niter it." This Is
just wlml they do not all know. "As for
you." conliniies Sir Christopher, ind'g
naiitly, addressing himself solely to
Fabian, "you plead for that miserable
old sot out of nothing but sheer obstin
acy not because you like him. Now, do
you like him? Corne, now, I defy tou to
Kal.iau laughs slightly.
"'I h-r", I knew it!" ejclaims Sir Chris
topher, triumphantly, though Fabian in
rea.ity had said nothing; "and as for him,
he positively : 'o-'s you. What did he
say j't-t now?-- that be "
"'h. mv-r mind that," says Fabian,
to! fi' i!.1 !iie soiiieni iit nervously,
"That lie had y.ui iu his power." thunder-
Sir hris'ophi r. angrily. "That he
ootd. ! make or unmake you as tbe fancy
scroll him, and so on. Give yon my
honor," says Sir Cbristoph' r. almost chok
ing with rage, "it was as much as ever
I c. nld dy to keep my hands off the fel
low!" (To be continued.)
Tbey Are Anionic the Wonderful
Tbiunn of Hie l.artli.
These fon-.-its are among the wonder
ful things of tbe enrtb. They are im
mense in extent, ami the trees which
form tbom grow- so close together that
they tread on mie (mother's toes, says
Court aad Kamis-nty. All nre lashed
and bound ami r'lhl into one huge,
magnificent, tangled net by the thick
est iiiJJ'rwvio! Mini the most marvel
ous parasitic g.-.wih thnt nature has
ever !"v!--h1. No htiiiitin tiein can
for.-e his way through this maze of
trees ami .shrubs huO thorns anl plan'a
and cre pens, ami even the great beasts
which dwell in the Jung'.e linjl rhe!r
Rlrenglh uuctiuhI to the uisk. and have
to follow garni' paths. lK-nten out by the
pasage of innumerable animal
through the thickest and deejM-st part
of th forest. The brandies cro ajtd
recro, aad are bound together by
countless paraaltic creejiers, forming a
green canopy overload, through which
the fierce unl!ght only forces a partial
passage, the struggling rays flecking
the trees on which they fall with little
fipiauhe of light and color. Tbe air
"hangs heavy a remetnlxTed gin," and
the glofun f a ifreat cathedral la on
every side. VJverytblog la dajnp and
moist and oppressive. Tlie soil and
the cool dead leave under foot ara
flank wlfh decay ajid aodden to tiia
touch. Enormous fungrut growth, flour
ishing luxuriantly, ajtd over all, during
the long, hot hours of the day, hang a
silence aa of the graveyard. Though
these Jungle teem with life, no living
thing la to be seen, save the buay a Ma,
a few brilliantly colored butterfllea aud
lnaecU and an occasional neat of beea
high up in tbe troetopa. A lit tie atraaja
r!pple ita way over tbe pe-bblea of Its
bed. and makes a humming murmur
In the dkKtance; a faint breez. aweep
lnj over the.forewt, genIy swaya tha
upper branch of a few of th taller
trees; but for the ret, all la melancholy,
silent and motionleha.
Tbe Danger Wa Imminent.
The Boston Traveler relatea that a
nervous young woman of that city call
ed a physician for a alight ailment, but
one which the magnlfled. In her own
estimation, Into a serious one,
"Hun," said the doctor to John, tha
servant, giving blm a prescription, "to
tbe near eat apothecary and bring back
the medicine Just aa fitilckly aa you
"Ia there ranch danger?" naked tha
young woman la alarm.
"If yoor aarrant la not quick It will
ba uaelena." aald tha doctor.
"Oh, doctor, ahall I dlr gaapad tha
"Dlat No," anawered tha doctor. "Tha
danger la that yen may gat well before
TaJawtad Mlad Matalolan.
stlaa P. A- Brown, a blind girt, only
21 yeara of aga, Urlng at Waillngford,
England, baa mada aoeb a troocaaa of
loatramantai nrmale, aapacUUy aa aa ar
ganlat, that aha baa Jnat baaa alaetasl
aaaocUto of tba RoyoJ OoUag of Or
gaalata. If yoo want to aaa tba aaaartaat,
eataat aad avootoat baby tbat arar
liTod, Jaat fat aay aiatbar to abour jroaj
Tba oat troaMa a
bar boobaad ta gottfaj atoa.
A glass plate will return to its exact
original form after being kept under
pressure in a bent condition for twen
ty five years. Glass Is the most per
fe.'t plastic sulistaiice in existence.
Steel ranks next.
I'.ertludot, tbe French chemist, finds'
that the copjwr objects found at Nega
lab and Abyilos, In Fgypt, are of pure
copper, not bronze. Tbey are believed
t date from (be first dynasty or ear
lier, and tend to prove the past exist
ence of a copper before the bronze age.
A I Mitch chemist in Jav i claims to
have discovered a process by which
starch ma,- 1m- converted Into sugar at
half the present cost of sugar. The two
substances are composed of tlie same
chemical elements, yet It remains to
be proved that one can be profitably
turned Into the other.
Sawdust building bricks are coming
Info use in many parts of tills country,
where the raw materials nre plentiful.
The sawdust Is dried ami screened, to
remove the coarser particles, ami then
mixed with cement, lime, and sand.
The mixture Is pressed into blocks as
bard as ordinary bricks.
A microscopic examination of mother
of pearl shows the shell to la- made of
very flue lines so closely put together
that the white light Is broken up Into
its prismatic colors and we get the so-
called "play of colors." Taking a care
ful cast of such shell, the wax cast will
yield Ihe same prismatic effects.
I'rof. Khtet of Washington has in
vented a system for cooling rooms in
summer. It Is simply a tall cylinder
of galvanized iron resting in a large
basin or pan, ami connecting at the
top with the ordinary stovepipe or
with a tube leading out of tlie window.
In the top of the cylinder's interior Is
a jwrforati-d tubular ring, and on a
cock being turned on this ring an artl
i.e:ji shower is caused Inside the cylin
der. The w:,:i-r thus flow ing down the
sides lakes a rapid spiral tnolion,
which sucks the air down through the
cylinder at a rapid rate, a fine spray
Inside cooling the air thus entering, re
ducing its humidity to normal and
taking out .all ilust am bad txlnrs; the
water collects In the basin below, from
which It is drained ofT, the (. air cs
caping through oiienittgs just above the
water surface of the basin.
In the Ulack Hills there Is a natural
telephone line operated without wires,
sdes or receivers. Ou each side of a
valley twehe miles wide stand two
tall Jieaks, several tboil-and fevl high,
and so rocky that they have been scabs!
only a few times. Some weeks ago a
party of tourist decided lo make ihe
ascent, and they divided into two par
tie, one for each seal;, taking helio
graphs w ith them for the purpose of
signaling to each other across the val
ley. The ascent was made, and one of
the parly on the north iiiuiiutaiu was
surprised to hear voices, which appar
ently came out of the air. lie movi-d
his position, and the sound was no
longer beard. I'.y changing his io-.i-tlon
several times he discovered thai
tbe voices were those of his friends on
tli! other mountain. When tlie atten
tion of the opiHislte party had been at
tracted it was found tbat an ordinary
conversation in an ordinary tone of
voice was plainly heard from one
mountain top to the other, over a dis
tance of more than twelve uille. Scien
tists say that the cause Is to be found
in the form of the mountains, which
serve as elllpilcnl reflectors of sound,
a vast whispering gallery made by na
ture. VILLAIN AND LADY.
Despite Her Ifrmonstraiitcn lie Per
sisted iu I'ullintc the THicKer.
Rapidly closing and locking the door,
tbe Villain turned to the Fair Lady.
"At last!" he exclaimed.
She looked around in dismay. The
room was at the top of the house, and
It was useless for her to scream for as
sistance no one would have heard her.
"I have been long waiting for this,"
be said. He chuckled sardonically; bis
band grasped his deadly weapon.
"This is cowardly. You have en
trapped uie. You told me that from
this room was to Ik- obtained tbe finest
view iu all Knglaud."
"The finest view Iu all England," be
replied, with a profound bow, "Is actu
llly In tbe room at this moment."
"If you think that I have beauty,"
she faltered, "why deatroy that beauty?
I am too young to die."
He laughed again, as though she bad
spoken In Jest. "I long," he aald, "to
gloat over tbe Inanimate features
"Coward! Coward!" abe cried, and
once more looked for aonie means of
escape. Ah! There was another door,
Immediately behind her. She opened
It, and bealtated, for within all was ab
"Kuter," be aald, "by all meana. It
la but a amail room, with no window
to It, and no door but this. You can
not escape you are In my power. En
ter if you will, but be careful lest In the
Darkneaa you knock against anything
and hurt yourself."
"Would you carer' aba aakad, bit
terly. "I could aavar forgiva rayaelf
"How dare yau aay It yoo you,
with yoor band already on tha trig
"It la stronger than I. I caosot nelp
myself I moat do It Prepara."
WKh a long algb aba aank on a low
couch aad burled her face Id ber banda.
"Do set do tbat," said tha Villain, al-
tOBdorly. Mbo wade ao rapt.
There was silence Iu the room Tor a
momeut, and then lie sjMike again:
"I cannot do it unless you take your
hands from vour face."
"Then I will keep them there for
ever." "In that case," he replied, coldly, "I
will wait." He took a cigarette from
his case ami proceeded in a leisurely,
w ay to light It.
To do this be had put down his weap
on. Watching him narrowly between
her fingers, she siw her chance and
made a smbb n rush I'-ut It was of no
avail-be hud snatched 1111 tbe weapon
again before she couW secure 1L One
more she flung bcisidf on ihe couch
and covered her face.
"You know." she said, "that I detest
the smell of tobacco."
"A thousand pardons," be replied, aa
he Hung ihe cigarelle through the open
window. "I had been misinformed,
and certainly you carry a silver match
"That Is only for my bicycle lamp."
"They always say that," he said, med
itatively. "However. I can wait Jus
as patiently without smoking. I ain
Hot a slave to the habit."
There w as oni-e more a moment' al
ienee. She changed her wsitlon rtfrt
lesslv. Suddenly she sprang up and
stood erect, letting her hands fall by
"Go on," she said. "If It must be
done, let It lie done quickly. Get W
over. 1 o your worst."
She looked superb 11s she stood there
a graceful figure In tlie sunlight. In
ber eyes there was an Infinite kindli
ness, as though she Isire no malice
against her persecutor. Now, just at
the end, she smlb-d.
He saw It all unmoved, without wa
vering for one moment from his feH
i "That's magnificent," be cried, aa.
raising his camera, he pulled the trig
ger ami photographed her aljominably.
-Kla. k ami Wbite.
Not a Hit Superstitious.
No, I am not sii-rstiiiouH
I consider it pernicious
If not absolutely vicious
I u a man
To admit him-elf so small that be most
Kvery little sign and omen
As the menace of a foeman.
Still, I'm free to say that Friday
Never, never would be my day
For a venture, for I'm sure 'twould nevei
Though I am not superstitious, not a bit,
Iteally, I've no toleration
Of that nervous hesitation
And that irksome perturbation
Which I've seen,
When a dinner party i-busy-d to be thlrs
Why, I've seen that arrant folly
Make a whole crowd melancholy,
With tlieir whining und their flimsy,
Foolish reasons for the whimsey.
Siill, I own I bate to be the last to alt.
Though I am not superstitious, uot a bit.
Certain things may 1k propitious.
Though titer seem but adventitious.
And it's hardly superstitious
Which is which, and so, accordingly, be
Now there's nothing makes me sadder
Than to walk lieneath 11 ladder,
l'.ut I grow a good deal bolder
hen the moon is nt my shoulder.
And to spill the salt! It takes away aay
Though I am not superstitious, not a bit
Surely nothing can be clearer
Than that evil marches nearer
By the breaking of a mirror,.
And it's true
That a howling dog In night-time makaa
For his keen scent makes 110 errors
And he smells the King of Terrors.
Here's another thing. Take need, sir,
If your nose should start to bleed, sir,
And should bleed only three drops and
then should quit!
Though I M not superstitious, net a btl
It Is snd to see w hat uses
Koine folks make of vain ezcusea
Hather than admit abuses
Of the mind.
When they're rather superatltlooaly b
Just to put it in plain English;
It would seem they can't distinguish
Between false and foolish cases
And the few which have a bssls
In experience, which even I admit,
Though I am nut superstitious, aat a
New York Sun.
Month Sea Caresses.
When a South Island mother
wishes to chastise ber child she aeldaai
resorts to slapping and allppara at
course she baa none.
Instead of using tbe forma of panlohv
ment customary among clrllleed moth
ers, she piiHs the child's hair and bttoa
some part of the body, generally tbo
fleshy part of tbe arm.
In wandering about the village aba
sees many children baring on their
body scars produced by wounda In Met
ed by their mothers' leeth.
When a mother wishes to caxaaa bar
child she deftly drawa ber thank
across its eyebrows or cheek, or goav
tly seines ita cheek between ber teeth.
The rubbing of nosea la also a mark
of affection among tbe Kingamlll Isl
anders, as it Is among the Maoris of
Goethe tbe Popular favorite.
The Ixmdon publisher, Walter Hcett,
recently aaked Uie subscribers to baa
"Scott Library" to ballot on tba qaaa
tlon of what classic tbey would bava
for the 19lot volume of tbat eertea.
Goethe waa victor In tlie com pass1 tie!
nml a selection from his critical papeao
was accordingly chown.
In boueekevlnf, wbket aad faaanj
wora go logouter. uooajaaj aad
lag are In another elaas.
No naa aaa claka to ba a fat
with tba lair aoi taatli
baa taken pofcera for braa.
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