TnilM m TDT *y Frederick Ov/flll Dvi\l j| VPHAM ADAMS Aotkor of “Tho Kidnapped Millionaires ’* “Colonel Monroes Doctrine,” Etc. * COPTBIGHT, 15(03, BT I AfTTiabts COPTtiir.HT, 1C0C. nr ^™*»**ic^DPHAa^ADAM^^^reservad^^^ A. J. D u ix el Biddle CHAPTER XXIX. Edith's Confession. “The papers say Mr. Morris will be arrested! It’s awful, Jessie! Look at the big headlines! Isn’t it awful?” Edith Hancock’s cheeks were red dened with excitement as she dashed into her cousin’s room. “Mr. Blake was here while the general was at breakfast," she gabbled on. breath lessly. "They talked a minute aud then he hurried away. Isn't Mr. Blake lovely? And he’s so big and hand some, and generous, and good-looking, and manly, and—and everything I just love him Jessie, don’t you?” She looked closely at Jessie Carden. “I—I like him, Edith. It wouldn’t do for both of us to love him, would it, cousin mine?” “He loves you.” protested Edith, with a blush. “I know he does. Are you sure you don’t love him, Jessie, just a little bit?” “Quite sure," laughed Jessie, as the roses came to her cheeks. “I can only love one man at a time—it’s conven tional. but it’s true.” “You still love John Burt? What a foolish little sweetheart you are. wast ing your life on a man you haven't heard from for years! You’re jesting, Jessie; don't reject Mr. Blake.” “It’s not likely I shall have a chance,” said Jessie. The little lace had grown very serious. “I sincerely hope uot, Edith. John Burt is not dead, and he has not forgotten me. He will return, and. rich or poor, my faith is in him. I know he'll come back, and when he does he’ll find me true.” There was a trustful light in the deep brown eyes and a longing smile touched the tender lips. Edith’s face was lighted with joy as she clasped her cousin’s hands. “You're the dearest darling in the world, and no man is good enough for yon,” she exclaimed. “John Burt any chance fcr a quibble. When he comes back with the stock, turn it over to me.” “Aye. aye. General Burton!” ex claimed Blake with a profound sa lute. He seemed In high spirits as he left the room. Let us look in on another scene. There was no outward sign of ex citement in the offices of Randolph Morris & Company. Morris took per sona! command of his brokers on the floor of the Stock Exchange. It won’t be much of a shower,” ho said to his followers, with airy bra vado. “Hang on to your stocks; we’ll pass those ordinances yet. I control Cosmopolitan and am able to protect it against all the liars and swindlers from San Francisco to New York.” Cosmopolitan opened at a loss of several poiuts, but the selling by Blake brokers was not so heavy as had been expected, and the stock ral lied when given support by Morris and others interested with him. The yo’ung millionaire speedily regained his courage Bid 'em up; bid 'em up!” he whis pered to his head broker. “We’ve got the Blake crowd on the run already! They dare not sell. Take ail they effer and hid for more!" !t was only a moment past ten o'clock when General Carden walked briskly up the marble steps and en tered the Morris building. He stopped at the outer railing and addressed Mr. Mason, the Vice-President of the company. “I held an option on ten thousand shares of L. & O. stock,” said the gen eral. producing an envelope from an inside pocket. “Yes?” Mr. Mason raised his eyes with a faint show of interest, and tapped the brass rail with a pencil. "So I understand. General Carden.” “Under its terms I can take up the stock at a stipulated figure, provided [ hi.Tv stop. Jessie;you ran fir>A ypme wty to do i<; I krrwvypu con’'^ will return; I'm sure of it, and he'll be proud of you. But, Jessie, you must not let Mr. Blake propose to you. You won’t will you, Jessie?” “Why?” asked Jessie in surprise. “Because-” and Edith faltered. She lowered her eyes in confusion, but when she looked again in Jessie’s face they flamed with passion. “Oh, Jessie, can’t you undersand? I’m jealous of you, horribly, madly jealous,” and she threw herself sob bing on her cousin’s breast. “I know' it’s not your fault that he loves you, but you can make him stop. Please make him stop. If it wasn’t for you be would love me. Tell him—tell him anything so that he will know that you don’t love him! Oh, Jessie, won't you ?” “What can I tell him?” asked Jes sie in amazement. “I can’t make him propose and then commend him to an other. But, Edith, darling, I’m so sorry, so awfully sorry:’’ When Jessie could command herself she asked if Edith really loyed Jim. “I loved him the moment I saw him. and he fell in love with you at the same instant,” declared Edith Han cock, whose intuition had told her the truth. “Make him stop, Jessie; you can find some w’ay to do it; I know you can. Oh, why are people always falling in love with those who don’t love them, and are blind to those who love them to death?” Jessie could not answer that world old question, and vainly attempted to soothe her. In anger and mortifica tion Edith rushed from the room, and when Jessie knocked at her door a few minutes later there was no re sponse but the muffled sound of sobs. CHAPTER XXX. Tale of the Ticker. A thousand men .were scattered through the hali of the New York stock exchange. The clicking of in numerable telegraph instruments, the tinkle of telephone bells, the shuf fling of feet in the encircling galler ies, the distant murmur of street traf fic, all blended with the noises from the floor into a chord which held the majesty of bass and the thrill of so prano. A gong sounded. Its reverberations were lost in the vocal explosion from a thousand lungs. A moment later and the acts of these seeming maniacs were flashed around the world. A million miles of] metallic nerves focused in this center and throbbed with the earth’* history for tfie day Wall street is a mundane incantation of the terrors of hell, re lieved by some of the joys of heaven. John Burt was in his office at eight o'clock, and Mr. Hawkins and James Blake joined him a few minutes later. “Is General Cars]>»n here?” asked John. “He’s in my room,” replied Blake. “Give him the cash for that L. & O check and have him present the op tion at Randolph Morris & Company the moment they are open for bank ing business,” instructed John Burt. “Bid Lb & O. above twenty-seven un til General Carden has the stock in bis possession. Send two witnesses along with him. That will prevent the nlarket price is above twenty-six dollar* a share.” ‘That is the agreement. You owe us about two hundred and eighty thousand dollars on that stock. Gen-' eral Carden. Do you wish to pay it to-day?” A sarcastic smile played around the comers of Mr. Mason's mouth. “I do. I demand the stock and will meet the terms in cash.” “Very well. General Carden, it can quickly be arranged.” There was no change of expression on the grave tace of the banker as he turned to a clerk and ordered him to produce the stock from the vaults. Mr. Mason glanced at the option and made a rapid calculation. “Two hundred and eighty-two thou sand, four hundred and sixty-seven dollars and seventeen cents.” he said, passing over a slip of paper. “Is that your figure?” General Carden bowed and mo tioned to one of his companions, who placed a satchel on the counter. From its depths General Carden produced the money demanded and exchanged it for the stock. “I trust your faith in the value of these certificates may not prove amiss.” said Mr. Mason with an icy smile. “I bid you good day, sir.” General Carden bowed gravely and turned to the door. As he did so Ar thur Morris entered, his face flushed with triumph. In his haste he ran into General Carden. “I beg your pardon: Oh, it's you, is it?” and an evil light came to his eyes. “What in hell are you doing here? You’re discharged—fired; d’ye understand? Get out of here and keen out!” Morris stepped behind the brass railirg and from that retreat shook his hand threateningly at the man who had aroused his rage. General Carden deliberately removed his glasses and walked towards him. "You aie a cur and a coward, Mor ris!” he said, looking at the younger man with blazing eyes. "Lay a hand on me if you dare!” With a muttered oath Morris turned and left the old soldier standing defi antly by the railing. A minute later General Carden entered a carriage and was driven rapidly to the offices of James Blake & Company. In the meantime Morris had fol lowed Mr. Mason to his private office. "I’d like to punch old Carden’s head, and I'd have done it hadn’t it been for you!” he declared. “What's he prowling around here for? What did he want?” “He demanded his L. & O. stock,” replied Mr. Mason. “His L. & O. stock.” repeated Mor ris. “Well, what of it? He didn’t wish me to make him a present of it, did he? If he comes arcund again tell him to dig up about three hun i dred thousand dollars and he can have his stock.” Morris laughed as he stepped to the ticker. “He showed his option, demandea the stock. and paid over the money,” said Mr. Mason slowly, “and I gave him the certificates.” “Old Carden took up his stock and paid ever the money? What do yea mean. Mason?" "I mean just what I say, Mr. Mor ris,” was the reply. “Do you know what has happened? With that stock you lose control of L. & O. Someone is back of General Carden in this transaction.” "Blake! Blake!" gasped Morris. He clutched the arm of his chair and the muscies of his neck twitched nervously. Pacing up and down tae room he burst into a storm of inco herent profanity. The ticker, which had been silent, spluttered rapidly, and the ominous sound did more to call Morris back to his senses than had the sober words of the broker. He lifted the tape and eagerly scanned the charac ters "What’s that? This must be a mistake! Five hundred shares of G. & O. at 38! It must mean 28?” Mor ris gazed at the figures like one in a trance. There came a violent rapping on the door, and, without waiting for a re sponse. a broker entered. His collar was torn open and his hair was rumpled and moist with perspiration. "Blake &. Company are bidding up G. & O.!” he exclaimed. “I’ve sold thpm four thousand shares up to 35, and they are yelling for more. How does it stand now?” He took the tape from Arthur Mor ris’ nerveless hand. “Thirty-nine! Thirty-nine and a half! Six hundred at forty! A thou sand at forty-one! Something’s up, I tell you! What shall we do, Mr. Mor ris?" Morris gazed hopelessly at Mr. Ma son. "What can we do?” he asked, weak ! ly. His brain was in a whirl. A heavy step was heard in the hall way and Randolph Morris entered the room. ”You've raised hell, haven’t you?” was his greeting to his son and heir. "I told you to keep your nose out of this Cosmopolitan business. You’ve made a fine mess of it! I suppose you think, because the bottom hasn't fall en out of Cosmopolitan, that >ou're all right, don’t ye? Been supporting it, haven’t ye? Of course you have. You’re an ass! Admit it, and take I your losses. I'll bet this damn fool piay will cost more than a million.” "Tell him about this business,” said Arthur Morris, sullenly turning to Mr. Mason. In a few words the latter explained what had occurred in L. & O. The old millionaire’s face was a study during this hurried recital. The look of anger changed to one of perplexity and then to fear. The m’llions amassed in a lifetime were menaced in his old age, and the fires j of defense and defiance blazed again in the eyes of Randolph Morris. (To be continued.) THINK LITTLE OF WOMEN. Russian Peasants, at Least, Regard Them as Slaves. If Russian sayings and proverbs are a true index the position of women j within the czar’s domains is not much ' better than in the land of the mikado, f Here are some sample adages: ! "Where the devil can't enter there he j sends women.” "The head of a wom an is as empty as the purse of a Tar tar.” “A woman without fear is bolder than a goat.” “If you beat your wife in the morning don't forget to do it again in the afternoon.” "Hit your wife with the handle of your ax: she is no pitcher to break at the first blow.” “If you beat a fur it becomes warmer and if you beat your wife i she will be more true to you.” As to women's limitations, it is said that “a woman's path reaches only from the doorstep to the hearth.” Very uncomplimentary is the belief that “two women are a town meeting and three a hell.” The Russian also l thinks that ‘‘a man who gives in to his wife has nothing good in store for him.” and says that "a man became insane and married, became sane and hanged himself.” Returning to the ‘‘big stick.” the Russian opines that “the more you beat a woman the better will be the dinner.” Finally, the dog is compli- [ mented by the declaration that he is cleverer than a woman, “because he knows enough not to bark at his mas- , ter.” The Salt of the Earth. It was a damp day, when evil spirits held high carnival. Many things went crosswise under the spell of their witchery, but they exercised a particu larly baleful influence on the salt, which clogged and stuck, and in spite of vigorous shaking and pounding, refused to sift out of the boxes. All the lunchers in a restaurant found themselves handicapped by this aggre gation of seasonable particles. One woman alone solved the problem of saiting her food properly. She, after repeated attempts to dislodge a few grains, drew a steel hairpin from be neath her hat, cleared the perforations in the top of the shaker, stirred the salt to a powder and proceeded to season her vegetables. The man opposite sat amazed at this truiy feminine expedient for run ning the universe. Once he seemed on the point of remonstrating, but he thought better of it and went on eat ing in silence. In fact, everybody re mained silent except a fat man at a nearby table. He brought his face into alarming proximity to a plate of steaming soup and gurgled softly: “Weil, I’ll be darned!” A Divided Allegiance. The mother of a young girl recently secured a divorce from her husband and married another man, the terms of the decree providing that the daughter spend half her time with her father (who had also remarried) and half with her mother. Meeting a friend of her family after returning from a visit to one of her remarried parents, the little girl was asked “how she spent her time nowadays.” “Well,” she replied, “I spend a month visiting my father and my mother; then the next month I go on a visit to my mother and my father.” —Harper’s Weekly. Overworked. “The edge on a razor.” said the gar rulous barber, “improves by lading i‘ away for a time.” “That being the case.” rejoined the victim in the chair. “I’d actvise you to lay the one you are using away fo. about 2,000 years.” TICKLE GBASS BYRON WILLIAMS A Cucumber Grew! A green cucumber grew where dews sweet nectar sent. Wherein a garden old were odors redo lent! The sunlight kissed the vine, the earth its succor lent. And breezes sang by day where moon beam shafts were blent— Thus this cucumber grew to girth of wondrous span; ’Twas plucked and sold at last to Mr. Dagoman. The peddler peddled long and sold it to Jim Slack. Who peeled and ate the '‘pick" with di vers smile and smack— ’Twas then that pickle green began to hump its back! It griped and bucked and growled, tried every wicked tack; Soiled over and lay down, then bunched up like a rock. ’Til Jim he plumb collapsed as limber as his sock! They called the doctor hence. He looked both wise and strong To cope with pain and pang and every inward wrong. He pumped Jim s insides out. It didn't take him long: But Jim he gagged and died! His spirit joined the throng Of those long gone before who now are hale and glad— Upon his tomb we read this doleful mes sage sad: “A green cucumber grew where dews sweet nectar lent; Jim ate it and now dwells in climes mag nificent!” Joshua’s Appendicitis. Joshua Fumbleberry. farmer, was born with a pain. Sometimes it was in his stomach and sometimes it was in his imagination, but it was ubiq uitous. Joshua was not one that suffered in silence, but was a devout apostle of the philosophy of King Crony in a paroxysm of gout—“Nature knows best and she says, Toar!’” “Land a-goshen, Joshua," complain ed his long enduring wife, “ye’ll be havin’ that there appendicitis in yer mind some day, and the doctor won’t be able t' do a thing fur ye, cause he ^ain’t operate on yer imagination and when ye git dead sot on it, nothin’ out an operation'll ever git ye over .t!” “You wimmen folks talk too much," marled Joshua hotly, “but I s'pose ye wouldn’t be happy if ye didn’t jam about so much wind er missed a revolution occasionally. When I'm sick, I’m sick, ain’t I? Ye doan’t s’pose I’m sick cuz I enjoy it, do ye?” That was the beginning. “A man gits mighty little sympathy in this world.” moaned Joshua at 10 p. m. two days later, when a sharp pain attacked him in the left side about three inches below and slightly back of his lower vest pocket. Deliberately at first, then with ac celerated rapidity, the truth rushed upon him. He had appendicitis! “Go fer th’ doctor. Mirandy! Go quick!” he bawled. "I’ve got it this time sure. Ef I should die,” moaning, ""afore ye git back, tfcey's 540 hid in the granary that ye didn't know about, an’,” holding his hand clasped close ly over the pain, “my will’s made out and down t' Pikevilie in th’ office o Squire Diggem— “But go! Go!" as Mirandy. her arms akimbo, stood immovable i:: an attitude of gathering defiance. “Joshua Fumbleberry. ye ain't got no more appendicitis than I hev. an’ I ain't goin' t’ make no dark ride o' eight miles through mud and water to git ye a doctor when ye don't need none. I’ve been a good an' faithful wife ter ye and alius cared fer ye when ye wuz sick, but I'm through chasin’ pill peddlers t’ fix up yer im agination, so there!” “So there” was accompanied by a determined stamp of the foot and Joshua knew the ultimatum was final, but his blood and his imagination were up. Besides, didn’t he have ap pendicitis and wasn’t he at that very moment a man marked for the cold and clammy silence of the grave? “Mirandy Fumbleberry,” Joshua spoke intensely, “ef you don’t git th' doctor fer me, afore midnight I’ll die —er I’ll git a divorce, an', an’ I don’t keer which?” “Take yer choice. Joshua,” retorted the wife stolidly. “Take yer choice!” “Then—I’ll—go—myself fer the doc tor,” he sobbed, jumping from the sofa and shuffling into his overcoat. “Ef I die ye’ll be satisfied, but I ain’t goin't’ die without a chance ter keep ye from spendin’ my money yet awhile! Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord! gimme strength!” he beseeched as he feebly passed out into the dooryard towai'? the barn. An hour later Doctor Phil Graves of Pike’s Corners was aroused from his 11 o’clock snooze by a loud rap ping. • Come ©n out t our house quick, Doc,” shouted Fumbleberry through the closed door. "I’ll order yer hosses hitched as I go past th’ livery stable. They ain’t no time t’ lose!” "Whose sick.” queried Doctor Graves, in the weird light at the top of the stair case—but all he heard as feet clattered down the steps was: "Out to Fumbleberry's, eight miles north!” and the rumbling of wheels A man is never stupid denying be is daft. It is only when left to our nar row ruts that we retrograde. Con tention and rivalry are blessings. One slovenly habit on the part of a man or woman may mean 'fibre in stead of success in life. Ana vze vour »rtf! Hearing an eight-year-old boy tell what he saw at the circus is better than going yourself! Another hot wave is coming, says the weather man. Duck! It’s only 20 cents a yard! A broken feminine heart is best mended by a youn& man who feels lonely! So Ion" as a man borro .vs only your ideas, your money is safe! A *hardshell mudturtle’s life is full of snaps! Once more the iyrydids r,re “lay.ng * onto Katy?” as the caller hurriefl away In the darkness. Muttering fervent anathemas upon his ill luck, Doctor Graves shuffled out of bis pajamas and prepared a j hasty toilet for a cold and cheerless ride over black and soggy roads. Bespattered and benumbed, he reached the Fumbleberry home just as the kitchen clock struck the half hour after midnight. “Who’s sick?" he queried, entering the house and handing his coat to Mrs. Fumbleberry. “I thought it must be you. Got some company?” “It's Joshua.” lisped Mirandy, quiet ly! He’s goin’ t’ die!” “Joshua?” shouted Dr. Graves. “Joshua? Why he drove in after me!” "I know, doctor; I couldn’t go,” lamely. “He's got the appendicitis in his appendix and be can’t live! He's in here. Come in!” Buried in a heap of feathers, quilts and family overcoats lay Joshua Fum bleberry. shaking pitifully and groan ing immoderately! “Well, I’ll be blamed!” gasped Doc tor Graves, explosively. “Turn over here. Let me get a look at you. Any pain here?” pressing the flesh over the appendix. “No. doc, no! It’s on th’ tother side! Oh! Oh! Oh!” “Appendicitis don’t come on the left side, Mr. Fumbleberry. Let’s—” “It don’t? It don’t?” screamed the excited patient. “I thought it could come on both sides!” “Both sides at once, eh?” growled the physician, continuing his examina tion. “Mr. Fumbleberry,” Doctor Graves was deliberately impressive as he held something aloft on the end of his pen knife, “you've had a wood-tick on you, i that’s all!” A surprised groan was the only in terruption and the physician contin ued : “Have your wife put a bandage about you to keep the blood off the linen, and then go to sleep. Good night!” “Well, do tell, Mirandy,” whimper ed Joshua repentantly, “did j'e ever know about that there appendix alius growin’ on the right side? But yer glad ain’t ye, Mirandy, thet I ain’t dead—ain’t ye?” "Where did ye say that there money was hid in the granary. Joshua? ’ dip lomatically. "I hain’t had a new go t’-meetin' dress fer seven years,” re- ' plied Mirandy meaningly. “It's in a tin box in the corn shelter, Mirandy.” sighed Joshua meekly. “Git a new dress, Mirandy! Git a new dress!” And Mirandy did! The Patriarch Editor. Old Patriarch Time must feel some thing of rage and remorse at his ac cumulated failures to take from the sere and whitened brow of the coun try editor his crown. The rural editor, strangely unlike many business men, grows riper and keener as the frosts gather hoar and immaculate upon his head. The aver age merchant or professional man. re tiring, breaks the ingrain habit of years but to idle and fret, going to the sunset land restless and unhappy. Have you noticed with what a se rene and philosophical mein the coun try editor nears eternity? Gentleness, sweetness, forgiveness and forbear ance mark the columns of his paper where once he was prone to rip and roar and twist the caudal appendage of those who loved him not? “What is it to grow old?’’ asks one. With the editor it is more than to lose the glory of the form, the luster of the eye. the plumpness of the cheek! It is to lose. also, from out the quiver at the editorial belt, the arrows of aloe, the javelin of wormwood, the shafts of venom—and to gain upon the pencil tip a pure and pleasing gen tleness that scatters calm and serenity in every home. Old wood is best; likewise old wine, old friends and an old editor's writings. There is in the ageing, pastoral scribe ncne of that frigidity of years, that piping childishness that frets at sundown, no futile wailing at Time to fly backward, no beiated and pitiful patching up of the body against the grave! There is in him a mature mellow ness, a reserve of wisdom from which he may draw at will, a relish as of salt, a hint that he is seeing by aged night a million stars he could not see by youthful day—and all this draws about him countless friends who love and cherish him. His boys or his younger partner take from his sooulders the bruising cares. He may not toil regularly as of old. remaining at heme for an hour with ‘that grand baby," or to let old Dobbins nip a bit of grass beside the road—but ere the day is much begun he shuffles off toward his favorite chair before the desk where work has blessed him lo! these many years! And thus, perhaps, ’tis there they find him some evening when the paper has gone to press, his arms upon his desk, his head upon his arms, asleep— forever! . A dabbler in life's serious work lends little more importance to prog ress than a child making mud pies in the street. Whatever you do. do it earnestly and not superficially. I The season for dabbling tootsie j woctsies in the limpid stream is about | over for this year and the summer re sorts are as lonely as a bachelor in a seven-room flat. — Some women content themselves with a little dab of powder on the nose, while others will have nothing less than calcimining and tinting. The man that fritters away his time will have few' nice, warm fritters in this world. It takes money to buy beef, fritters and “things.” The primrose path of dalliance will soon be full ot cold and chilly snow. Thus do our dreams of summer fade! - t “The days of the 1904 mosquito are numbered,” says an exchange. Hope the number is 13! A ru—:cr report injury to the heart is usually healed by the time of the first frost. Indemnity Is a great balm to a broken heart. ; • __: The British admiralty seems to have met with success in tJfe utilization of liquid fuel upon war vessels, despite the objections against its use. which interfere with Its adaptability for fighting ships. The torpedo-boat de stroyer Spiteful has been passed into the Portsmouth fleet reserve, after satisfactorily undergoing her power trials. This vessel is only fitted for oil fuel, and is the first warship to be so equipped. The one great difficulty that has confronted the experimenters is the excessive smoke emitted by the consumption of oil, but this drawback has now been successfully overcome. No more smoke is emitted than with steam coal. One of the greatest ad vantages accruing from the use of liquid fuel is the economy in men. The number of stokers required for the vessel Is decreased by ten or more. Ab the method adopted upon the Spite ful has proved so completely success ful, the furnaces of two battleships are immediately to be converted to burning liquid fuel. An Automatic Tea Maker. To English inventiveness is due the most recent acquisition in the line of automatic contrivances, the invention being one especially calculated to ap peal to the housewife. It is termed an automatic tea maker and the accom panying illustration gives a compre hensive Idea of its appearance. This useful little apparatus consists of an alarm clock connected with a spirit lamp and a kettle in such a manner that when the alarm goes off it re leases a shutter which covers the spirit lamp, and as it flies back the shutter strikes a match—duly placed for the purpose—which lights the lamp, and thus heats the water in the kettle. As soon as this water boils, a deft arrangement of wires causes the kettle to tilt and pour its contents into the pot set ready to receive it. the same action ringing a little gong to announce the pouring out of the water, and also automatically extinguishing the lamp. The alarm can be set fo^ any time desired, the result following as a matter of course. The machine is provided with a small and convenient traveling case and this being portable it is available for a large variety of purposes. Radium Fatal to Small Animals. It has been demonstrated by Prof. Curie that the emanations given off by radium cause the death of the smaller animals when breathed by them. Experiments were conducted on guinea pigs in glass jars. After the animal had breathed the air charged with the emanations for a certain time verying from one hour to several hours the respiration be came short and abrupt. He rolled himself up in a ball with his hair standing on end. Then he fell into a profound torpor and his body be came cold. An examination of the animal showed an intense pulmonary congestion. The composition of the blood was modified, especially as re gards the white corpuscles, and their number diminished. The tissues of the animal were found to be radio active. When the body of the guinea pig was placed on a photographic plate wrapped in black paper it gave an image in which the hairs were very clearly defined. Broken Bones Bolted. Dt. Stephen H. Watts, assistant res ident surgeon at the Johns Hopkins hospital, Baltimore, has devised a method of joining broken bones that is attracting wide interest among sur geons. His device consists of a silver bolt and nut and is simplicity itself. The fractured bone is exposed and the broken ends are mortised just as a carpenter mortises the ends of two pieces of wood he desires to join. Then a small hole is drilled through the joint thus made and a silver bolt is inserted. When the nut is screwed down the joint is immovable and the natural knitting of the bone may pro ceed without the interruption usually caused by change in position and lack of rigidity. Looped Bolero. Bolero jacket fronts are not always worn open. Some are hooked and some are invisibly stayed on one or both sides. But the newer scheme is to have the fronts connected with loops of passementerie, ribbon or hus sar braiding. It is not meant to join the bolero fronts close together. In stead, a small space is usually allowed to show the all-over lace or embroid ered lawn blouse. Across this the loops go in a series. This jS especial ly handsome in etamine or voile cos tumes. and is also seen on dresses of buff linen, worn of a morning. Divining Rod Found Useful. Whatever merit there may have been in the old divining rod. divining by electricity seems likely to be suc cessful. The electrical-w'ave experi ments made recently on the hills about Conisten in the English lake district have indicated the presence of a lode of copper 200 feet southwest of a rich lode w hich was lost twenty years ago. The mine owners and miners are sanguine that life new method «f divining will save much toil and expense. Turbine Idea Not New. In some of the patents taken out sixty years ago in England are clear ly ststed all the essential points for the construction of an excellent steam turbine. Many of the early inventors seemed to have such clear ideas as to essential features of a successful steam turbine that their failure to make their ideas commercially suc cessful is singular. COST LITTLE TO BUILD. Comfortable Dwelling Put Up Com plete for $240. The accompanying illustrations show plans of the dwelling of Mr. Al Parker, who went to White Fish -rrrrre*-, New Ontario, four years ago. GROUND FLOOR PLAN. His house is 20 by 26 feet and one and one-half stories high. He paid out $240 for material, all of which was shipped from Port Arthur. The UPPER FLOOR PLAN. material in the house could have been prepared at the sawmill in his com munity for one-third less. Water Pipe Too Small. P. M.—I have laid 1,400 feet of pipe to convey water to my house. Half ot this pipe is half-inch and the other half is inch pipe. The water runs so slowly that four minutes are required to fill a common water pail. What is probably the cause of the siow deliv ery? The difficulty in this instance ap pears to be caused by the great length of one-half-inch pipe. The correspon dent does not give particulars enough He should mention approximately th< amount of fall that there is and alsc how much he requires. As it is, i can only calculate roughly the amount of fall and guess at the amount of water he requires. From my under standing of the question I have cal culated the total fall to be about thir ty-six feet, although in making that calculation I had to assume certain things—for instance, the character of the pipe used—whether smooth or rough. At any rate if an inch pipe is substituted for the one-half in^h pipe in the first seven hundred feet, the amount of flow would be three gallons or more per minute instead of three-quarters as at present. The cor respondent states that an ordinary pail is filled in four minutes with the present arrangement.—J. B. R. Potato Seed Balls. J. C. R.—Kindly explain the pres ence of a large number of seed bail: gTowing on our potato vines this year. What is their function? The presence of an ungsual number of seed balls on potatoes indicate? that the season has favored the set ting of the true fruit or seed of the potato. We have been growing the potato from tuber cuttings so lon^ that we now look upon the tuber ai the seeds whereas it is really a spe cies of stem cutting. It is very likely that this method of propogation ha; discouraged the development of flow ers and seeds As a rule, our poia toes flower freely, but rarely do thej set much seed. This potato ball, then is the product of a fertility blossom If one wishes to secure new varieties of potatoes, the thing to do is to plan1 the seed found in these balls. Eacl seed will produce a new kind differing slightly-or greatly from every other sort. Liming Potatoes. L. A. G.—Will the sprinkling of po tatoes with lime while stored in th( cellar prevent their sprouting in tht spring? I have had no personal experiencf in the use of lime as a preventive