“The thing is a fake,” declared
tSertrfan. He slumped heavily into a
chair, and scowled at Average Jones’
well-littered desk, whereon he had just
tossed a sheet of paper.
‘“A fake,’’ he reiterated. “I've stpwi
' a night oi pseudc-inteliectual riot and
ruin over ft.”
"Ton would have it,” returned Aver
age Jones with a smile. "And 1 seem
to recall a lofty intimation on your
part that there never was a cipher so
tough but you could rope and tie in
record time."
“Cipher, yes,” returned the other
bitterly. “That thing isn’t a cipher.
It’s an alphabetical riot. Maybe,” he
added hopefully, “there was some mis
take in my copy.”
“Look for yourself," said Average
Jones, handing him the original.
It was a singular document, this
problem in letters which had come to
light up the gloom of a November day
for Average Jones; a stiffish sheet of
paper, ornamented on one side with
color prints of alluring “spinners,” and
oe the other inscribed with an appeal,
in print. Its original vehicle was an
envelope, bearing a one-cent stamp,
and addressed in typewriting;
Mr. William H. Robinson,
The Caronia,
Broadway and Evcnside Ave.,
New York City.
The advertisement on the reverse
of the sheet ran as follows:
ANGLERS-WHEX TOE ARE LOOK
ing for “Balls That Catch Fish.” do
you see these spinners in the store where
you buy tackle? You will find here
twelve baits, every one of which has a
record and has literally caught tons of
fish. We call them “The 12 Surety Baits."
We want you to try them for casting and
trolling these next two months, because
all varieties of bass are particularly sav
age tn striking these baits late in the
season.
HEARERS—Y OT* WANT TOUR Cus
tomers tn have these 11 Shoemaker
"Surety Bails” that catch fish. This case
will sell itself empty and over again, for
every bait is a record-breaker and they
catch fish. We want you to put in one
of these cases so that the anglers will
not be disappointed and have to wait for
baits to i*e ordered. It will be furnished
KREF.. charges postpaid, with your order
for the dozen baits it contains.
The peculiar feature of the com
munication was that it was profusely
be-pimpled with tiny projections, evi
dently made by thrusting a pin
through, from the side which bore the
Illustrations. These perforations w ere
liberally scattered.
"Yes, the copy's all right,” growled
Bertram. “Tell me again how you
came by ib”
“Robinson came here twice and
missed me. Yesterday I got the note
from him which you've seen, with the
In closure which has so threatened
your reason. You know the resh Per
haps you'd have done well to study
the note for clues to the other docu
ments.”
something m his friend s tone made
Bertram glance up suspiciously. “Let
me see the note.” he demanded.
Average Jones handed it to him.
Bertram read the message. "Of
course the man is rattied. That's ob
vious in his handwriting. Also, he has
inverted one sentence in his haste
and said Tead through it.’ instead of
‘read it through.' Otherwise, it’s or
dinary enough.”
"It mnst be vanity that keeps you
from eye-glasses, Bert,” Average Jones
observed with a sigh. “Well, I’m
afraid 1 set yon on the wrong track,
myself!”
Bertram lifted an eyebrow with an
effort. “Meaning, I suppose, that
you're an the right one and have
solved the cipher.”
“Cipher be jiggered. There isn't
any cipher. If you’d had the advan
tage of working on the original of the
bait advertisement as I have, you’d
undoubtedly have noticed at once—
‘Thank yon,” murmured Bertram.
"—that fnliy one-third of the pin
pricks don’t touch any letters at all.”
“Then we should have taken the let
ters which lie between the holes?”
“No. The letters don't count. It s
the punctures. Force your eyes to
consider those alone, and you will see
that the holes themselves torm let
ters and words. Read through it care
fully. as Robinson directed.”
He held the paper up to the light.
Bertram made out in straggling char
acters. formed in skeleton by the per
forations, this legend.
ALL POINTS TO YOU TAKE THE
SHORT CUT. DEATH IS EASIER
THAN SOME THINGS.
“Whew! That's a cheery little
greeting, ’ remarked Bertram. “But
why didn’t friend Robinson point it
out definitely in his letter?”
W anted to test my capacity per
haps. Or, it may have been simply
that he was too frightened and rattled
to know just what he was writing.”
“Know anything of him?”
“Only what the directory tells, and
directories don't deal in really inti
mate details of biography, you know.
There’s quite an assortment of Wil
liam H. Robinsons, but the one who
lives at the Caronia appears to be a
commission merchant on Pearl street.
As the Caronia is one of the most ele
gant and quite the most enormous of
those small cities within themselves
which we call apartment houses, I
take it that Mr. Robinson is well-to
do, and probably married. Tou can
ask him, yourself, if you like. Ee’s
due any moment, now."
man. Mr. William H. Robinson arrived
on the stroke of twelve. He was a
well-made, well-dressed citizen of for
ty-five, who would have been wholly
ordinary save for one peculiarity. In
a room more than temperately cool he
was sweating profusely, and that, de
spite the fact that his light overcoat
was on his arm. He darted a glance
at Bertram, then turned to Average
Jones.
T had hoped for a private inter
view." he said in a high pipiug voice.
"Mr Bertram is my friend and busi
ness confidant."
“Very good. You—you have read
:♦ *>»•
'“Yes.”
“Then—then—then—” The visitor
fumbled, with nerveless fingers, at his
tightly buttoned cutaway coat and,
after a moment's effort, drew a paper
from his inner pocket which he placed
on the desk. It was a certified check
for one hundred dollars, made pay
able to A. Jones.
"There's the rest of a thousand
ready, if you can help me." he said.
"We’ll talk of that later," said the
prospective beneficiary. “Sit tight
until you're able to answer questions."
"Able now," piped the other in his
shrill Twice. “I'm ashamed of myself,
gentlemen, bu.> tie st.rwin !’vs been
under— IWien yotrve neard my
story—”
“Just a moment, please," interrupt
ed Average Jones, "let me get at this
my own way. What are the 'some
things' that are worse than death?”
Mr. Robinson shook his head. "I
haven’t the slightest notion in the
world.”
“Nor of the ‘ulctf tvhfch you
are advised to take?’
“I suppose it means suicide." He
paused for a moment. “They can t
drive me to that—unless they drive
me crazy first.” He wiped the sweat
from under his eyes, breathing hard.
“What are 'they'?”
Mr. Robinson shook his head. "Mr.
Jones, I give you my word of honor,
as I hope to be saved from this perse
cution, I don’t know any more than j
yourself what It means."
"Then—er—I am—er—to believe,'
replied Jones, drawling, as he always
did when interest, in his mind, was
verging on excitemejrt. "that a simple
blind threat like this—er—without
any backing from vocr own conscience
—er—could shake you—er—as this
has done? Why, Mr. Robinson, the
thing—er—may be—er—only a raw
practical joke.”
“But the others!” cried the visitor.
His face changed and fell. "I believe j
I am going crazy,” he groaned. ‘‘I
didn't tell you about the others.”
Diving into his overcoat pocket he
drew out a packet of letters which he
placed on the desk with a sort of dis
mal flourish.
“Read those!” he cried.
“Presently.” Average Jones ran
rapidly over the eight envelopes
With one exception, each bore the irn
p-int of some firm name made familiar
hy extensive advertising All the en
velopes were of sottish manila paper
varying in grade and hue. under one- i
cent stamps.
“Which is the first of the series?" i
he asked.
“It isn't among those. I’nfortunate
Iv it was lost, bv a stupid servant’s
I
mistake, pin and all.”
“Pin?”
“Yes. Where I cut open the en- j
velope—”
"Wait a moment. You say you cut
it open. All these, being one-rent
postage, must have come unsealed.
Was the first different ”
“Yes. It had a two-cent stamp It
was a circular announcement of the
Swift Reading Encyclopedia, in a
sealed envelope. There was a pin j
bent over the fold of the letter so
you couldn’t help but notice it. Its
head was stuck through the blank
part of the circular. Leading from it
were three very small pins arranged
as a pointer to the message.”
“Do you remember the message'.'’
“Could 1 forget it! It was pricked
out quite small on the blank fold of
the paper. It said: Make the most
of your freedom. Your time is short.
Call at General Delivery, Main P. O.,
for your warning.' ”
“You went there?"
“The next day.”
“And found—?”
“An ordinary sealed envelope, ad
dressed in pen-pricks connected by
pencil lines. The address was scraw
ly, but quite plain.”
“Well, what did it contain?”
"A commitment blank to an insane
asylum.”
Average Jones absently drew out
his hardkerchief, elaborately whisked
from b'<s coat sleeve an imaginary
speck of dust, and smiled benignant
ly where the dust was supposed to
have been.
“Insane asylum.” he murmured.
“Was—er—the blank—er—tilled in!”’
“Onl: partly. My name was pricked
in. and there was a specification of
dementia from drug habit, with sui
cidal tendencies."
With a quick signal, unseen by the
i visitor, Average Jones opened the way
to Bertram, who, in a wide raege of
experience and study had once spe
cialized upon abnormal mental phe
nomena.
"Pardon me.” that gentleman put in
gently, “has there ever been any de
mentia in your family?"
“Not as far as I know.”
“Or suicidal mania?”
All my jieople have died respect
ably in their beds," declared the vis
itor with some vehemence.
“Once more. If I may venture. Have
you ever been addicted to any drug?”
“Never, sir.”
“Now,” Average Jones took up the
examination, “will you tell me of any
enemy who would have reason to
persecute you?”
“I haven’t an enemy in the world.”
“You're fortunate," returned the
other smiling, “but surely, some time
in your career—business rivalry—fam
ily alienation—any one of a thousand
causes?”
“No,” answered the harassed man.
“Not for me. My business runs
smoothly. My relations are mostly
dead. I have no friends and no ene
mies. My wife and I live alone, and
all we ask,” be added ia a sudden out
burst of alWKjst childish resentment,
“is to be left alone.”
the packet of letters. “You haven’t
complained to the post-office authori
ties?”
"And risk the publicity?” returned
Kobinson with a shudder.
“Well, give me over night with
t ese. Ob' and I may want to "phone
you presently. You’ll be at home?
Thank you. Good day.”
""Now." said Average Jones to Ber
tram, as their caller's plump back dis
appeared. "this looks pretty queer to
me. What did you think of our
friend?”
"Scared but straight.” was Bertram’s
verdict.
Average Jones pushed the collec
tion of advertisements aside and re
turned to the opening phase of the
problem, the fish-bait circular which
Robinson had mailed him. So long
after, that Bertram hardly recognized
it as a response to his last remark,
the investigator drawled out:
"Not such—er—impenetrable dark
ness. Iu fact—er—Eureka, or words
to that effect. Bert, when does the
bass season end?”
"November 1, hereabouts. I believe."
"The postmark on the envelope that
carried this advertisement to our
friend advises the use of the baits for
These pei; :-wo months.' Queer time
to be using bass-lures, after the sea
eft/n IS closed. Dc/t, !:’s 9 p\ty I can’t
waggle my ears.”
"’Waggle your ears.' Tilt heaven's
sake, why?”
"Because then I'd be such a perfect
jackass that I could win medals at a
show. I ought to have guessed it at
first glance, from the fact that the ad
vertisement. t'cvr'ln t well have been
mailed to Robinson originally, any
how.”
"Why not?”
"Because he's not in the sporting
goods business, and the advertisement
is obviously addressed to the retail
trade. Don’t you remember: it offers a
showcase, free. What does a man liv
ing in an apartment want of a show
• I
“Am I Right, Mr. HoneywellV*
case to k“ p artificial halt in? What
we—er—need here is—er—steam."
A moment's manipulation cf the j
radiator produced a small jet. In this ;
Average Jones held the envelope. The
stamp curled up and dropped off. Be- i
neath it were the remains of a small .
portion of a former postmark.
"1 thought so," murmured Average j
Jones.
“Remailed!” exclaimed Bertram.
"Remailed," corroborated his friend, j
"I expect we'll find the others the
same.”
One by one he submitted the en- |
velopes to the steam bath. Each of
them, as the stamp was peeled off,
exhibited more or less fragmentary j
s’gns of a previous cancellation.
"Careless work." criticized Average
Jones. ' Every bit of the mark should
have been remo\ed. instead of trust
ing to the second stamp to cover what
little was left, by shifting it a bit to
ward the center of the envelope.
Look; you can see on this one w here
the original stamp was peeled off. On
this the traces t>f erasure are plain
enough. That'B why manila paper
was selected; it’s easier to erase
from.”
"Is Robinson faking?” asked Ber
tram. "Ob has someone beer, rifling
his waste basket?”
"That would mean an accomplice in
the house, which would be dangerous.
I think it was done at longer range.”
Drawing the telephone to him. he
called the Caronia apartments.
"Hello! Mr. Robinson? This is
Mr. A. Jones. You hear me?”
“Yes, Mr. Jones. What is it?"
"Is there, in ail your acquaintance, i
any person who never goes out with
out an attendant? Take time to think,
now.”
"Why—why—why,” stuttered Rob
inson, and fell into silence. From the
depths of the silence he presently ex
humed the following: "1 did have a
paralytic cousin who always went out
in a wheeled chair. But she's dead.”
"And there’s no one else?”
“No. I'm quite sure.”
"That’s all. Good-by.”
"What was that about an attend
ant?” inquired Bertram, as his friend
replaced the receiver.*
“Oh, I’ve just a hunch that the send
er of those messages doesn’t go out
unaccompanied."
“Insane? Or semi-insane? It does
rather look like delusional paranoia.”
smiling indulgently at the end of his
own nose.
“Dare say you’re right—er—in part,
Bert. But I’ve also a hunch that our
man Robinson is himself the delusion
as well as the object.”
"I wish you wouldn’t be cryptic.
-3 verage,’’ said his friend pathetically.
’’There's been enough of that without
your gratuitously adding to the sum
of human bewilderment.”
Average Jones scribbled a few words
on a pad. considered, amended, and
handed the result over to Bertram,
who read:
’’WANTED — Professional envelope
eraser to remove marks from used
envelopes. Experience essential. Ap
ply at once.—A. Jones, Ad-Visor, As
tor Court Temple.”
“Would it enlighten your gloom to
see that in every New York and
Brooklyn paper tomorrow?" inquired
its inventor.
"Not a glimmer.”
“We'll give this ad a week's repeti
tion if necessary, before trying more
roundabout measures. As soon as 1
have heard from it I'll drop in at the
club and we’ll write—that is to say,
compose a letter.”
“To whom?”
“Oh. that I don’t know yet. When I
do. you'll see me.”
Three days later Average Jones
entered the Cosmic club, with that
twinkling upturn of the mouth corners
which, with him, indicated satisfac
tory accomplishment.
"Really, Bert.” he remarked, seek
ing out his languid friend, in the
laziest corner of the large divan.
"You’d be surprised to know how few
experienced envelope erasers there
are in four millions of population.
Only seven people answered that ad
vertisement. and they were mostly
tyros.”
“Then you didn't get your man?”
“It was a woman. The fifth appli
cant. Got a pin about you?"
Bertram took ;t pearl from his scarf
"That's good. It will make nice,
hold, inevitable sort of Utters. Come
over here to this desk."
For a few moments he_ worked at a
sheet of paper with the pin. then
threw it down in disgust.
"This sort of thing requires prac
tice.' he muttered. "Here, Bert, you're
cleverer with your fingers than I.
You take it. and I'll dictate.”
Between them, after several fail-1
ures, they produced a fair copy of the
following:
Mr. Alden Honeywell will choose
between making explanation to the
post-office authorities or calling at
3:30 p. m. tomorrow on A. Jones, Ad
visor, Astor Court Temple."
This Average Jones inclosed in an i
envelope which be addressed in writ- ,
ing to Alden Honeywell. Esq.. 550
West Seventy-fourth street, city, aft- j
erward pin-pric king the letters in out
line. "Just for moral effect.” he ex-!
plained. “In part this ought to give 1
him a taste of the trouble he made for
poor Robinson. Y’ou'll be there to
morrow Bert?”
"Watch me!" replied that gentle
man with unwonted emphasis. "But
will Alden Honeywell. Esquire?"
"Surely. Also Mr. William H. Rob
inson of the Caronia. Note that 'of
the Caronia.' It’s significant.”
At three-thirty the following after
noon three men were waiting in Aver
age Jones’ inner office. Average Jones
sat at his desk sedulously polishing
his left-hand fore-knuckle with the
tennis callus of his right palm.
Bertram lounged gracefully in the
big chair. Mr. Robinson fidgeted.
There was an atmosphere of ten
sion in the room. At three
forty there cape a tap-tapping
across the floor of the outer room, and
a knock at the door brought them all
to their feet. Average Jones threw
the door open, took the man who
stood outside by the arm. and pushing
a chair toward him. seated him in it.
The newcomer was an elderly man
dressed with sober elegance. In his
scarf was a scarab of great value; on
his left hand a superb signet ring. He
carried a heavy, gold-mounted stick.
His face was curiously divided against
itself. The fine calm forehead and the
deep setting of the widely separated
eyes gave an Impression of intellec
tual power and balance But the low
er part of the face was mere wreck
age; the chin quivering and fallen,
nostrils; the mouth showing totli the
soft contours of sensuality and .he j
hard, fine lines of craft and cruelty. 1
The man's eyes were unholy. They ■
stared straight before him. and were ■
dead. With hi6 entrance there was ;
infuswl in the atmosphere a sense of
something venomous.
“Mr. Alden Honeywell?” said Aver
age Jones.
“Yes. ' The voice had refinement
and calm.
“I want to introduce you to Mr.
William H. Robinson ”
The newcomer's head turned slowly
to his right shoulder then back. His
eyes remained rigid.
“■Why. thf man's blind!" burst out |
Mr. Robinson in his piping voice.
“Blind!” echoed Bertram. “Did you j
know this. Average?”
“Of course. The pin pricks showed
it. And the letter mailed to Mr. Rob- ■
inson at the general delivery, which .
if you remember, had the address pen- 1
ciled in from pin-holes.”
“When you have quite done discuss- I
ing my personal misfortune.” said !
Honeywell patiently, “perhaps you j
will be good enough to tell me which
is William Robinson.”
“I am.” returned the owner of that !
name. “And do you be good enough
to tell me why you hound me with your
hellish threats.”
“That is not William Robinson's :
voice!” said the blind man. “Who are 1
you?”
“William H. Robinson.”
"Not William Honeywell Robin- j
son.”
“No; William Hunter Robinson.”
“Then why am I brought here?”
“To make a statement for publica
tion in tomorrow morning's newspa
per." returned Average Jones crisply.
“Statement” Is this a yellow jour
nal trap?” *
“As a courtesy to Mr. Robinson. I’ll I
explain. How long have you lived in j
the Caronia. Mr. Robinson?"
“About eight months."
“Then, some three or four months
before you moved in. another William
H. Robinson lived there for a short
time. His middle name was Honey- i
well. He is a cousin, and an object
of great solicitude to this gentleman
here. In fact, he is. or will be. the
< hief witness against Mr. Honeywell in
his effort to break the famous Holden
Honeywell will, disposing of some ten
million dollars. Am I right. Mr. !
Honeywell?”
“Thus far," replied the blind man
composedly.
“Five years ago William Honeywell
Robinson became addicted to a patent
headache 'dope.' It ended, as such
habits do. in insanity. He was con
fined two years, suffering from psy- I
cliasthenia. with suicidal melancholia
and delusion of persecution. Then he
was released, cured, but with a super
sensitive mental balance."
"Then the messages were intended
to drive him out of his mind again."
said Bertram in sudden enlighten
ment. “What a devil!”
“Either that, or to impel him. by
suggestion. to suicide or to revert to
the headache powders, which would
have meant the asylum again. Any
thing to put him out of the way. or
to make his testimony incompetent
for the will contest. So. when the ex
lunatic returned from Europe a year
ago. our friend Honeywell here, in
some way located him at the Caronia.
He matured his little scheme.
Through a letter broker who deals
with the rag and refuse collectors, he
got ai! the second-hand mail from the
Caronia. Meantime. William Honey
well Robinson had moved away, and
as chance would have it. William
Hunter Robinson moved in. receiving
the pin prick letters which, had they
reached their goal, would probably
have produced the desired effect"
“If they drove a sane man nearly
crazy, what wouldn't they have done
ho one whose mind wasn't quite
right:" cried the wronged Robinson.
"But since Mr. Hcnevwoll is blind."
said Bertram, “how could he see*to
erase the cancellations ?"
“Ah: That's what I asked myself.
Obviously, he couldn’t He'd have to
get that done for him. Presumedly
he'd get some stranger to do it That’s
why I advertised for a professional
eraser who was experienced, judging
that it would fetch the person who
had done Honeywell's work.”
“Is there any such thing as a pro
fessional envelope eraser?" nskeri
Bertram.
“No. So a person of experience tp
this line would be almost unique. 1
was sure to find the right one. if he
or she saw my advertisement. As a
matter of fact, it turned out to be an
unimaginative young woman who has
told me all about her farmer employ
ment with Mr. Honeywell, apparently
with no thought that there was any
thing strange in erasing cancellations
from hundreds of envelopes—lor
Honeywell was cautions enough not
to confine her to the Robinson mail
alone—and then pasting cm stamps to
remail them.”
‘ You appear to have followed out
my moves with some degree of acu
men. Mr.—er—Jones.” said the blind
schemer suavely.
“Yet I might not have solved your
processes so easily if you had not
made one rather—if you will pardon
me—stupid mistake.”
For the first time, the man’s bloated
lips shook. Kis evil pride of intel
lectuality was stung.
“You lie!” he said hastily. “I do
not make mistakes.”
“No? Well, have it as you wIlL The
poiut is that you are to sign here a
statement, which I shall read to you
before these witnesses, announcing
for publication the withdrawal of your
contest for the Honeywell millions.”
“And if I decline?”
i he painful necessity will he mine
of turning over these instructive docu
ments to the United States postal au
thorities. But not before giving them
to the newspapers. How would you
look in court in view of this attempt
to murder a fellowman's reason?”
Mr. Honeywell had now gained his
composure. "You are right,” he as
sented. "You Eeem to have a singular
faculty for being right Be careful it
does not fail you—sometime.”
“‘Thank you,” returned Average
Jones. "Now you will listen, please,
all of you.”
He read the brief document placed
it before the blind man. and set a pin
between his finger and thumb. “Sign
there,” he said.
Honeywell smiled as he pricked in
his name.
"For identification. I suppose.” he
said. "Am I to assign no cause to the
newspapers for my sudden action?”
A twinkle of malice appeared in
Average Jones’ eye.
“I would suggest waning mental
acumen,” he said.
The blind man winced palpably as
he rose to his feet. “That is the sec
ond time yon have taunted me on that.
Kindly tell me my mistake.”
Average Jones led him to the door
and opened it.
‘ Your mistake,” he drawled as he
sped his parting guest into the grasp
of a waiting attendant, “was—er—in
not remembering that — er — you
mustn't fish for bass in November.”
< Copy rig}’, t. by the Bobbs-Merrill Com
pany.)
TREASURE IN EARTH
Buried Timber a Source of Im
mense Revenue
Parts of New Zealand Particularly
Rich in Deposits Which Have
More Material Value Than /
Coal rr Gold.
It appears that the recovery and use
of buried timber is no rew thing. For
hundreds of years the wood of buried
and submerged trees has been recov
ered and worked among the Swiss
Alps, and many an English farmer of
the western counties can point with
pride to an old cabinet or carved four
poster of black bog dnk. But. accoi-d
ing to Prof. D. W. Fagan, who has
given much study to the subject, it is
doubtful if anywhere else in the world
there is so vast an area of buried tim
ber of immense size as in the Papa
kura valley, near Auckland, New Zea
land.
Beneath the surface of peat, where
the soil has shrunk in drying or has
been blowD away, the trunks of in
numerable kauri trees lie exposed to
view. For centuries they have been
covered by the semiliquid peat until
their branches and crowns have de
cayed and disappeared. Nothing *»ut
the solid heartwood of the mighty
trunks remains, and these lie i£i order
ly swaths almost as regular as wheat
stalks in a newly reaped field. The
thousand heads all point in one direc
tion. as if the forest had fallen under
the sickle of some giant reaper.
Like the branches and crowns, the
soft sapwood that once surrounded the
solid heartwood of the living trees has
long since disappeared; so in estimat
ing the original size there must be
made a considerable addition to the
present measurements. Many of the
logs today show a girth of over sixty
feet and a length of eighty or ninety
feet of straight timber free from knot
or branch.
Everywhere about the swamp there
are excavations where workmen are
uncovering the timber. They scoop pits
in the peat on each side of the trunk
for the sa-wyers to work in. The men
wield huge cross saws and cut the tree
into shorter lengths for the mill. Then
the grips of a "forest devil" are at
tached to one of the sections. There
is a rattle and clank of machinery, a
groan and strain of pulleys, a roar of
steam and the great log is torn from
its bed of centuries, swung on a trolley
and hauled away on its last journey to
The cut timber is perfectly sound
and of excellent quality. It differs
from the kauri timber that is cut from
the living tree only in its color, which
is a dark reddish brown, like ma
hogany.
The peat is full of fossil gum shed
through countless centuries by the
trees that are now being dug out. The
value of resin makes another industry
profitable—the recovery of fossil gum
In some parts of the swamp area as
many as five successive layers of gum
have been found.
Need of the Hour.
It is because the organization of na
tional life is so eminently important,
because its absence is one of the main
sources of our peril, that we should
be interested primarily in the develop
ment of a national consciousness and
a discipline, which are good for peace,
and which can be forwarded now by
the peril of war if statesmen of viBion
can be found to give the movement
leadership. Any reaction of opinion
which tends to retard or frustrate that
development is a national peril. The
lack of Just that kind of leadership
today is conspicuous. The time is
ripe for the development of a disci
pline adapted to and expressive of the
philosophhy of democracy for a defi
nite and concrete program. Instead
of such statesmanship, we have noth
ing as yet which is constructive, un
less a propaganda for large expendi
tures on purely military and naval
matters deserves the name.—George
W. Alger, in the Atlantic.
Two Kinds of Emulsions.
Milk and butter are both emulsions.
Prof. F. G. Donnan of University col
lege. London, defines an emulsion as
a distribution of one liquid in an
other. A little oil shaken with much
water gives an emulsion in which the
particles of oil have a diameter of
about a thousandth of a millimeter;
such an emulsion is milk. A little wa
ter in much oil gives particles of wa
ter even smaller; such an emulsion Is
butter.
Helpful Information.
“I want a pair of pants for my sick
husband,” exclaimed the woman.
"What size?” asked the clerk.
“I don’t know, but I think he wears
a 14% collar.”
Early Japanese Metalwork.
The earliest examples of Japanese
metolwor^M^w^dg^^ro^^wea^
WORKED TO SUCCESS
REMARKABLE ACHIEVEMENTS OF
"SELF-MADE" MEN.
r
Some of Those Who Have Pursued the
Way to Riches and High Position
Without Envying or lll-Trcat
ing Others.
Newspapers of every great city con
stantly are telling the stories of self
made men. We find presidents of rail
roads who began as switchmen, presi
dents of batiks who began as messen
ger boys, publishers of prosperous
newspapers who began as printers,
heads of great enterprises in every di
rectum whose beginnings were in the
humble walks of poverty. Yet ranting
demagogues on soap boxes at street
corners are preaching the gospel of
envy, dissatisfaction, unreason, unrest,
“Jasper” writes in Leslie's.
The head of one of the successful
banking institutions in New York city
gave a dinner to a few of his associ
ates the other evening. He is a man
of large wealth and of commanding
Influence in his line of enterprise.
Courteous and cultivated, he bore the
air of one who had begun life under
advantageous circumstances. Yet,
during the course of the evening, it
was revealed that this man of great
wealth had been a poor immigrant
boy. who got his start in life by sell
ing trifles from a peddler's pack un
der the burden of which he trudged
through country towns, seeking his
customers along the highways and by
ways. His industry and ambition
made him so successful as a pack ped
dler that in due time he was able to
hire a young man to go with him and
carry a pack Next he began to make
his circuit with a horse and wagon,
then with a team of two horses, and
finally with an outfit of two wagons,
and thus, having accumulated the nec
essary capital, he was able to open a
store, and from that to get into the
manufacturing line. Step by step, he
laid the foundation of his fortune, not
envying the success of others, not
seeking to pull anyone down, not in
terfering with any competitor's prog
ress. but persistently and patiently fol
lowing out his own plans and carry
ing them to the fruition of success.
What, an inspiration there is in this
example to the young men with no
other capital but character, good
health, industry and amhition. It is
Btill a world of opportunity.
An orphan boy in 181*0 was brought
to the secretary of state's office in Al
bany. N. W. by the head of that de
partment as his messenger. With a
change wrought by politics, the office
boy lost his job. but he did not lose
his grit. On the morning of his dis
missal he said to one of his associ
ates: ‘‘I got my blue envelope today."
The friend inquired: "What are you
going to do?" He received the quick
response: “I am going to work." In
a few hours the lad had found a place
as messenger in the five-and-ten-cent
store in Albany. He died the other
day, leaving a large fortune, and at
his death was vice-president and treas
urer of the corporation which he be
gan to serve in tbe humblest capacity.
Sixty years ago John D. Rockefeller
went to work in Cleveland as an as
sistant bookkeeper, and for the first
three months received only SrH) as his
wages. The same story might be told
of nearly all the eminently successful
business men of this country. It is
the story of achievement, of pluck, of
independence, courage and self-reli
ance. Let any one of my readers look
about in his own community and he
will find illustrations in a large or
small way, and perhaps he will find
one in his own career.
While so many envy the rich, toe
few bear in mind that there is no
royal road to wealth, that an ounce ot
pluck is worth a ton of luck, and that
no other country in the world offers
greater opportunities than our own for
a boy to rise from poverty to wealth.
Let everyone attend to his own knit
ting: let everyone believe in himself
and be the architect of his own for
tune.
Miners Ce’ebrate Lamp Invention.
Miners of the north of England this
year celebrate the centenary of the
introduction of the Davy safety lamp.
It was on January 10, 1S10. that the
"miners' guardian angel" was first in
troduced into any pit.
Sir Humphrey Davy's invention was
really the outcome of the terrible ca
lamity at Felling colliery. County Dur
ham, on May 25, 1812, when 92 miners
were killed and many injured. Davy be
gan his experiments in the autumn of
1815, with fine wire gauze as an "ex
plosive sieve,” and on January 10,
1816, the first lamp was tried by a
hardy band of pioneers in the work
ings of Hebburn-on-Tyne colliery.
The actual lamp is now a treasure in
the Geological museum in Jermyn
street, London.
Served Morphine With Potatoes.
The unusual popularity of a San
Francisco restaurant was accounted
for when Detective Nelson Mathew
son discovered that the proprietor
served morphine with mashed pota
toes. Men and women were 6eea
slinking in, hands trembling, lips quiv
ering, their eyes dull. When patrons
emerged their step was buoyant, their
Jips wreathed in smiles and their eyes
a-sparkle.
Mathewson paid for a meal and
plnngod a fork into the center of the
dish of mashed potatoes and penetrat
ed the secret. The proprietor was ar
rested charged with violating the state
poison law.
Daily Thought.
A man of sense takeB the time neces
sary for doing well the thing he is
about; and his haste to dispatch a
business only appears by the contin
uity of his application to iL He pur
sues it by cool steadiness and finishes
it before he begins any other.—Ches
terfield.
Thinking Not Necessary.
The average wife doesn't have to
think very hard when she is telling her
