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 <J
the sprouting habit of potatoes. Ther?
are two ways in which it might influ
ence the development of sprouts; on?
is by drying up the surface so that
sprout growth would be checked; the
other is by influencing the tempera*
ture of the potato by the small insula
tion afforded by the coat of lime. Thi*
effect, I imagine, would not be worth
considering. On the whole, therefore
I do not anticipate that the method
would be at all effective.—J. C.
Trimming Spruce Hedges.
J. R. M.—I would like to knew
through the columns of your paper
the proper time for the trimming ci
spruce trees that are kept low ana
close.
One cannot expect to keep a spruce
hedge in proper order by trimming it
only once during the season. It U
necessary to go over it at least twice
The first trimming should be done a
week or two after growth commtaices
and the second trimming should take
place early enough in the season sc
that the plant is able to repair the in
jury in part, by its subsequent groVth;
in other words, so that the cut ends
may be covered up, if pruned very late
In the season, there is likely to be
some slight dying back of the cut
ends. This not only looks badly, but
also injures the plant to some extent
The word “Impossible” is the moth*
er-tongue of little souls.—Lord Broug
ham.
