The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, June 08, 1900, Image 6

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CHAPTER V. ( Continued. )
Something must have happened.
People are running. There Is a little
crowd round the bank , and a police
man is pushing his way through.
What can it be ? Sebastian Joins the
crowd , and the people fall back and
make way. Mr. Saville Is a magis
trate , and every one stands aside to lot
him pass.
In the bank Itself a small , eager
crowd are peering over the counter at
a strange scene within. The bank
manager Is stooping over a prostrate
figure the body of the cashier , limp
and insensible.
That there has been an outrage is
plain to the commonest understanding.
The floor is strewn with papers , and a
stool Is overturned. There must have
been a desperate struggle before the
young man was overpowered. The
place Is a regular wreck. At flrst the
general opinion is that the cashier is
dead murdered , most probably. There
is a heavy , faint odor of some drug.
Mr. Kelly , the bank manager , lifts
an ashen face.
"It must have been very quickly
done ! I had not left the bank ten
minutes ! I was at my lunch , and
when I got back I found Grey like
this ! "
"Has any one gone for a doctor ? "
Mr. Saville puts the question- he
stands looking down on the livid , in
sensible face of the bank clerk.
"Give him air ; open his collar , " he
says , and glances around on the scene
of confusion the money lying on the
floor , the books , the
Sebastian stoops suddenly and picks
up a cheque off the floor. George Bou-
vere is scrawled across the back of it.
Without a word he hands the cheque
to the bank manager , remarking :
"Mr. Bouvere may be able to throw
some light on this. I met him com
ing out of the bank about a quarter of
an hour ago. He can at least say if
everything was right then. "
"Where is Mr. Bouverie now ? "
"Gone home , I fancy. He was wir
ing off a large sum of money at the
postofSce when I met him. "
Mr. Kelly turns white as his eyes
meet those of Sebastian.
"I do not know if anything has been
taken , " he says very low , still chafing
away at the limp hands of Mr. Grey.
Then the doctor hurries in and makes
an examination.
"The man is not dead ; he has been
chloroformed. "
luis is the verdict , and the news
goes out to the little knot of people
outside. Not only has the cashier been
chloroformed , but the bank has been
robbed. So far has been ascertained
by a hastly examination.
It is a very clever robbery , evident
ly well planned and carried out suc
cessfully during the time the manager
was at his lunch. Nothing further
can be known till Mr. Grey recovers
consciousness. The cashier , who is a
very uninteresting young man , be
comes all at once an object of excite
ment and discussion , and through the
length and breadth of Portraven the
news goes like wildfire.
"It was a very near thing indeed , "
the doctor says , when at last he suc
ceeds 'in restoring Mr. Grey. "This
young man has a weak heart , and very
little more would have finished him. "
As it is , the cashier lies limp and liv
id from the effects of chloform , by
whom administered it were hard to
Sebastian Saville watches eagerly ,
hungrily , while Mr. Grey's dazed sen
ses come back , and he casts terrified
glances round.
"There , now you are all right , " says
the bank manager nervously and im
He is anxious to find out if the
cashier can give any account of the as
sault upon him , any clue to the per
petrator of the outrage.
A couple of policemen stand by. Mr.
Grey's eyes turn towards them almost
He must have got a terrible shock
to be so unnerved and shaken.
"Now , Mr. Grey , try and give us
some account of this mystery. You
must know something , " Mr. Saville
says. "Every moment's delay gives
the thief time to get off. It seems
from the hasty inspection made by Mr.
Kelly that over a hundred pounds have
been taken. "
The injured man's lips writhe , and a
damp sweat stands out on his fore
head ; he lifts two shaking hands.
"He tried to murder me ! " he gasps
almost inarticulately. "I was all alone ,
and he sprang over the counter ! "
"Who ? " asks Mr. Saville , with des
perate earnestness. "Quick ! do you
know who it was ? "
The cashier's face turns ashen ; he
has not yet recovered by any means.
His eyes rove anxiously round.
Mr. Grey , you are losing time , " the
manager says. "It is of the greatest
importance that your statement should
be made perfectly clear. "
"I will tell all I know , " the young
man whispers with diffculty. "You
had gone to your lunch , Mr. Kelly. It
was very quiet , about two o'clock , a
time very few people are about. I
was writing in the ledger when the
bank door opened and a man came in.
He had a small bag in his hand. He
presented a cheque for payment ; it
was for five pounds. He said he would
have it in gold , and I turned to get it
for him. This is God's truth , Mr. Kel
ly. In a' second' " he % sprang over the
counter , seized me by the collar , chok
ing me. We struggled desperately , but
I could not call out I was choking.
And then he stuffed a handkerchief
soaked with chloroform in my mouth.
He held It there. I do not know any
more. "
He shivers as he speaks and covers
his ghastly face with his hands.
Sebastian Saville bends forward.
"Who was the man ? " He asks the
question intently , earnestly
Mr. Grey lifts his head.
"It was George Bouverie. "
"I knew It , " Mr. Saville says quiet
ly. "I saw him coming out of the
bank , and immediately after dispatch
money by telegraph. It was a bold
robbery indeed. Now , Mr. Kelly ,
what are you going to do ? "
Mr. Kelly's face looks grey with ter
"I cannot believe it ! " he exclaims
"George Bouverie ! The thing seems to
me impossible , Mr. Grey ! " fixing
stern eyes upon the drooping figure o
the cashier. "Do you swear that Mr.
Bouverie drugged you and robbed the
bank ? Before God , is this the truth ? '
"Yes , It is the truth ; I am prepared
to vwear It ! " The cashier's tones are
steady enough now. He looks Mr ,
Kelly straight In the face. "I did not
know the bank was robbed ; I only
know for certain that George Bouverie
attacked and drugged me. "
"He has been financially embar
rassed , " Mr. Saville says. "He has
been in desperate straights for
money ! "
"I know , " admits Mr. Kelly reluc
tantly , remembering a passionate re
quest from young Bouverie to be al
lowed to overdraw his account. But ,
still , from money difficulties to a bank
robbery was a wide and awful gulf.
Mr. Grey is examined and cross-ex
amined ; he sticks to his statement in
an unshaken manner.
"This is terrible ! " groans Mr. Kelly.
"To think young Bouverie should sink
to an act of burglary ! It will kill his
mother ! "
Mr. Saville prepares to depart.
"It is sad indeed ; but that young
man is steeped to the lips in turf
transactions more or less discreditable.
I suppose you will have a warrant
made out immediately ? "
He lowers his eyes to conceal the
look of triumph. Branded as a crim
inal , Barbara can no longer think of
George Bouverie !
The bank manager sighs and passes
his hand across his forehead.
"I suppose it will have to be done , "
he says slowly ; "but , Mr. Grey , I
could almost believe you the victim of
a hallucination ! "
Sebastian laughs.
"Hallucination can not chloroform a
man or rob a bank. "
"I mean , " said Mr. Kelly , "that he
might have been mistaken he might
have fancied it was Bouverie. "
Mr. Saville holds out the cheque he
had picked up on the floor of the
"This is conclusive evidence. This
is the identical cheque Mr. Grey was
giving gold for at the moment he was
attacked. I cannot see the slightest
loophole for doubt. I myself can
swear to having met George Bouverie
running hastily down the steps of the
bank , carrying a small bag , and ten
minutes after saw him handing in a
pile of gold at the postoffice. Let him
account for that money being in his
possession. "
Mr. Grey sits white and listless , ner
vously clasping and unclasping his
"I feel ill , " he says , looking at the
doctor , who has turned his back and
stands in pale consternation.
George Bouverie a thief ! Impossible !
The doctor has known him since he
was born , and now to hear that he has
sunk so low is appalling ! He feels
stunned ; yet , lie remembers the young
man's altered look of care that sat so
oddly on the young face. During those
anxious weeks of Mrs. Bouverie's ill
ness he had noticed George , often find
ing him sitting moody and depressed.
"Poor , poor lad ; if he had only
made a clean breast of it to me ! " says
kindly old" Doctor Carter to himself ,
"I would have helped him only too
gladly. "
But facts are facts , and , within an
hour two constables are driving rap
idly towarus the Grange on an outside
car , and one of them holds a warrant
for the arrest of George Bouverie.
The warrant is signed by two magis
trates , one of whom is Sebastian Sa
ville , who never in all his life signed
his name with such alacrity before , for
ue downfall of his enemy is com
plete !
The evening sunlight is slanting
across the lawn , making a glory of
the dancing daffodils ; and the birds
are nolding a concert that commenced
with the dawn this morning. Such a
tender , loving spring evening.
The sun shines in at the windows of
the Grange , and one shaft rests lov
ingly on the fair head of George Bou
Mrs. Bouverie looks at the sunshine
and at the face of her handsome son ,
and smiles as she gazes. Her own eyes
are very sweet and patient.
She Is very happy this evening.
tween her and George stands a tea-
table , and George is laughing and
pouring out the tea , desperately par
ticular as to sugar and cream , waiting
on his mother with gentle * courtesy.
Her pale cheeks have taken a pink
* '
tinge , soft as tn'o blush on a girlish
face. She wears lilac ribbons In her"
filmy lace cap ; and lace ruffles fall over
her slender hands.
In upon this homelike scene stalks
a trouble dark and horrible.
The maid , with a pale face , opens the
door and stands trembling , looking
from her mistress to the face of the
young man who is so calmly helping
himself to a second cup of tea.
"Well , Mary , what is it ? " he asks ,
gaily tossing a lump of sugar to a fox
terrier sitting at his feet.
"Oh , Mr. George , I don't know ! "
stammers the girl. "It is something
dreadful , sir. There Is a sergeant and
a constable in the hall ! "
George lays down his cup , but no
Idea of the truth rises in his mind.
"The bank robbed ? That is odd !
But I am not a magistrate. What do
they want me for ? " he says. "I'll
just step out and ask the sergeant
what It means. "
But before he can leave the room
there is the sound of a little confusion
In the hall , and Doctor Carter , with a
grave , desperate face , hurries in and
goes straight to Mrs. Bouverie.
"My dear old friend , there is some
monstrous mistake ! There , don't get
frightened , the whole thing is impos
sible a travesty of justice , that's
what it is , a driveling idiot making a
statement like a lunatic ! You'll set
them right in ten minutes , George ,
won't you ? " a shade of anxiety creep
ing into his voice.
"What is it ? " asks Mrs. Bouverie ,
sitting up , pale and trembling. "Doc
tor Carter , what Is it all about ? "
He pats the trembling hands he
"My dear lady , leave it to George. It
s all nonsense the blundering Saville
and that fool of a bank clerk ! "
"But I don't understand ! What has
my son to do with it ? " asks Mrs. Bou
verie , getting frightened.
"Sure , I'm telling you ! " cries the
doctor , his natural tongue getting the
upper hand , "It seems some one
drugged the clerk and robbed the bank
and the fool , dazed with chloroform ,
has saddled the crime on George ! "
"On me ? " George exclaims , a flush
of indignation dyeing his forehead.
'How dare any one say such a thing ? "
"They have dared ! " retorts the decor - -
, or furiously. "Mrs. Bouverie , George
: an explain everything ; you mustn't
excite yourself. George , my boy , you
were at the bank this morning ? "
'Yes ; I cashed a cheque , " George
gays , his face growing stern.
"Yes ; afterwards Saville saw you
wiring off a hundred pounds your
money , of course ; but you've just got
to tell them that. And , look here "
Doctor Carter stops short at the look
that has come over the face of George
Bouverie a stricken , conscious look.
"A hundred pounds ! Oh , George ,
what does it mean ? " cries his mother ,
weeping now in her fear.
George gives one look at her , and
then his eyes meet the troubled , in
quiring gaze of the doctor.
"My boy , my boy , surely you'll set
it right ? " the old man stammers.
George Bouverie's face is as white
as death. He touches Doctor Carter
on the arm. "I will go and speak to
the sergeant , " he says , in a hard , cold
( To be continued. )
Greek to Her.
An exchange quotes the following
conversation between husband and
wife. She suddenly addresses him :
"What are you reading so absorbing
ly ? " "It's a new Scotch novel. " "Oh , " '
cries the wife with enthusiasm , "I'm
so fond of those dear dialect things !
Do read me a little ! " "Can you un
derstand it ? " "Can I understand it ? " ' ]
she repeats , loftily. "Well , I should J
hope anything you are reading need
not be Greek to me ! " "No , but it
might be Scotch. " "Well , go on ,
read just where you are. " " 'Ye see ,
Elspie , ' said Duncan , doucely , 'I
might hae mair the matter wi' me
than ye wad be spierin' . Aiblins ma
e'en is a bit drazzlit , an' I'm hearin1
the poolses thuddiu' in ma ears , an' I
ma toongue is clavin' when it sud be
gaein' ; an' div ye no hear the dirlin'
o' ma hairt ; an' feel the shakin' o' ma
hond this day gin I gat a glimpse o'
ye , sair hirplin' like an auld mon ?
Div ye nae guess what's a' the steer ,
hinney , wi'out me gaein' it mair
words ? ' " "Stop ! Stop ! For good
ness' sake ! What in the world is the
creature trying to say ? " "He is mak
ing a declaration of love. " "A decla
ration of love ! I thought he was tell
ing a lot of symptoms to his doctor ! "
Swapping : War Storie * .
Senator Shoup and Gen. Eppa Hun
ton were swapping war stories the i
other day , and the talk ran upon great :
losses in a single battle. "My regi
ment , " said Gen. Hunton , "had been
reduced from its full complement to
200 men when it participated in Plck-
ett's charge at Gettysburg. How many .
men of that regiment do you think
came out of that alive "
charge ? Sena :
tor Shoup could not guess. "Only
ten , " said Gen. Hunton. - .
Tags on Children. .
The children of the poor in Japan
are always labeled , in case they should
stray away from their homes while
their mothers arc engaged in domestic
The French color manufacturers are ,
not credited with one new product this ,
year , while the Dutch , Swiss and Ger >
mans are fully represented with a gen
erous quota.
Addressed to the Tellers and Stragglers
on Life's Difficult Highway Heroes
and Heroines of Our Times The He
roes of Heaven.
[ Copyright , 1000 , by I.ouls Klopsch. ]
Text , II Timothy II , 3 , "Thou there
fore endure hardness. "
Historians are not slow to acknowl
edge the merits of great military chief
tains. We have the full length portraits
traits , ofthe < Cromwells. the Waahlng-
tons , the Napoleons and the Welling
tons of the world. History is not
written in black ink , but red ink of
human blood. The gods of human
ambition do not drink from bowls
made out of silver or gold or precious
stones , but out of the bleached skulls
of the fallen. But I am now to unroll
before you a scroll of heroes that the
world has never acknowledged those
who faced no guns , blew no bugle
blast , conquered no cities , chained no
captives to their chariot wheels and
yet in the great day of eternity will
stand higher than some of those whose
names startled the nations , and ser
aph and rapt spirit and archangel will
tell their deeds to a listening universe.
I mean the heroes of common , every
day life.
In this roll , in the first place , I find
all the heroes of the sickroom. When
satan had failed to overcome Job , he
said to God , "Put forth thy hand and
touch his bones and his flesh , and he
will curse thee to thy face. " Satan
had found out that which we have all
found out , that sickness is the great
est test of one's character. A man
who can stand that can stand any
thing. To be shut in a room as fast
as though it were a bastile ; to be so
nervous you cannot endure the tap
of a child's foot ; to have luscious fruit ,
which tempts the appetite of the ro
bust and healthy , excite our loathing
and disgust when it first appears on
the platter ; to have the rapier of pain
strike through the side or across the
temples like a razor or to put the
foot into a vise or throw the whole
body into a blaze of fever , yet there
have been men and women , but more
women than men , who have cheerful
ly endured this hardness. Through
-years of exhausting rheumatisms and
excruciating neuralgias they have gone
and through bodily distress that
rasped the nerves and tore the muscles
and paled the cheeks and stooped the
shoulders. By the dim light of the
sickroom taper they saw on their wall
the picture of that land where the
Inhabitants are never sick. Through
the dead silence of the night they
heard the chorus of the angels. j
Heroes In Sickness.
In this roll I also find the heroes of
toil who do their work uncomplaining
ly. It is comparatively easy to lead a
regiment into battle when you know
that the whole nation will applaud the
victory ; it Is comparatively easy to
doctor the sick when you know that
your skill will be appreciated by a 1
large company of friends and rela
tives ; it is comparatively easy to ad
dress an audience when in the gleam
ing eyes and tha flushed cheeks you
know that your sentiments are adopt
ed. But to do sewing when you ex
pect the employer will come and thrust
his thumb through the work to show
how imperfect it is or to have the
whole garment thrown back on you ,
to be done over again ; to build a wall
and know there will be no one to say
you did it well , but only a swearing
employer howling across the scaffold ;
to work until your eyes are dim and
your back aches and your heart faints ,
and to know that if you stop before
night your children will starve ah ,
the sword has not slain so many as
the needle ! The great battlefields of
our civil war were not Gettysburg :
and Shiloh and South Mountain. The
great battlefields were in the arsenals
and in the shops and in the attics ,
where women made army jackets for
a sixpence. They toiled on until they ;
Qied. They had no funeral eulogium.
but , in the name of my God , this day ,
enroll their names among those of
whom the world was not worthy.
Heroes of the needle ! Heroes of the
machine ! Heroes of the
s'c ! Heroes of the cellar ! Heroes
s.i.d heroines ! Bless God for them !
* * * * * *
Heroes of Domestic Injustice.
{ Society to-day is strewn with the
ro.-ecks of men who , under the north-
35 st storm of domestic Infelicity , have
lwen driven on the rocks. There are
tens of thousands of drunkards to-day , ,
such by their wives. That is not
ppotry ; that is prose. But the wrongs
s generally in the opposite direction.
Ym would not have to go far to find
wife whose life is a perpetual mar-
j rdom something heavier than a
ilirke of the fist , unkind words ; stag
s' ' rius home at midnight and constant
ijaltreatment , which have left her
inly a. wreck of what she was on that
r.ay when in the midst of a brilliant
issemblage the vows were taken , and nP'
ull organ played the wedding march , P' '
ind the carriage rolled away with the "
-.enediction of the people. What was
he burning of Latimer and Ridley at
.he stake compared with this ? Those
nen soon became unconscious in the w
ire , but there is a 30 years' martyrsi
lorn , a 50 years' putting to death , yet pi
mcomplaining. No bitter words when hi
he rollicking companions at 2 o'clock pi
; t the morning pitch the husband dead it
runk into the front entry. No bitter 01
'ords when wiping from the swollen Drew >
row the blood struck out in a mid01
light carousal. Bending over the hi
mttered and bruised form of him who fli
when he took her from her father's
home promised love and kindness and
protection , yet nothing but sympathy
and prayers and forgiveness before
they are asked for. No bitter words
when the family Bible goes for rum
and the pawnbroker's shop gets the
last decent dress. Some day , desir
ing to evoke the .story of her sorrows ,
you say , "Well , how are you getting
along now ? " and , rallying her tremb
ling voice and quieting her quivering
lip , she says , "Pretty well , I thank
you ; pretty well. " She never will tell
you. In the delirium of her last sick
ness she may tell all the other se
crets of her lifetime , but she will not
tell that. Not until the books of.
eternity are opened on the throne of
judgment will ever be known what she
has suffered. Oh , ye , who are twisting
a garland for the victor , put It on that
pale brow ! When she Is dead the
neighbors will beg linen to make her
a shroud , and she will be carried out
in a plain box , with no silver plate to
tell her years , for she has lived a
thousand years of trial and anguish.
The gamblers and swindlers who de
stroyed her husband will not come to
the funeral. One carriage will be
enough for that funeral one carriage
to carry the orphans and the two
Christian women who presided over
the obsequies.
The Celestial Door Opened.
But there is a flash and the opening
of a celestial door and a shout , "Lift
up your head , ye everlasting gate , and
let her come in ! " And Christ will
step forth and say , "Come in. Ye
suffered with me on earth ; be glorified
with me in heaven. " What Is the
highest throne in heaven ? You say ,
"The throne of the Lord God Almighty
and the Lamb. " No doubt about it.
What is the next highest throne in
heaven ? While I speak it seems to
me it will be the throne of the drunk
ard's wife , if she with cheerful pa
tience endured all her earthly tor
ture. Heroes and heroines ! * * *
Reward of Devotion.
You have all seen or heard of the
ruins of Melrose abbey. I suppose in
some respects they are the most ex
quisite ruins on earth. And yet , lookIng -
Ing at it I was not so impressed you
may set it down to bad taste but I
was not so deeply stirred as I was at
a tombstone at the foot of that ab
bey , the tombstone placed by Walter
Scott over the grave of an old man
who had served him for a good many
years in his house the inscription ,
most significant , and I defy any man
to stand there and read it without
tears coming into his eyes the epi
taph , "Well done , good and faithful
servant. " Oh , when our work is over ,
will it be found , that , because of
anything we have done for God or the
church or suffering humanity that
such an inscription is appropriate
for us ? God grant it ! * * * *
John llroivn's Prayer.
John Brown fell upon his knees and
began to pray. "Ah , " said Claver-
house , "look out if you are going to
pray ; steer clear of the king , the coun
cil and Richard Cameron. " "O Lord , "
said John Brown , "since it seems to
be thy will that I should leave this
world for a world where I can love
thee better and serve thee more , I
put this poor widow woman and these
helpless , fatherless children into thy
hands. We have been together In
peace a good while , but now we must
look forth to a better meeting In
heaven. And as for these poor crea
tures , blindfolded and infatuated , that
stand before me , convert them before
it be too late , and may they who have
sat in judgment in this lonely place on
this blessed morning upon me , a poor ,
defenseless fellow creature may they
in the last judgment- that mercy
which they have refused to me , thy
most unwort > y but faithful servant.
A. men. "
He arose and said , "Isabel , the hour
has come of which I spoke to you on
he morning when I proposed
land and heart to you , and are you
tvilling now , for the love of God , to :
et me die ? " She put her arms around
lim and said : "The Lord gave , and :
he Lord hath taken away. Blessed
je the name of the Lord. " "Stop that )
sniveling , " said Claverhotise. "I have
lad enough of it. Soldiers do your
vork. Take aim ! Fire ! " And the
lead of John Brown was scattered
m the ground. While the wife was
jathering up in her apron the frag-
nents of her husband's head gather-
ng them up for burial Claverhouse . ,
ooked into her face and said , "Now , fi
ny good woman , how do you feel now
ibout your bonnie man ? " "Oh , " she
a i
aid , "I always thought weel
if him ; he has been very good to me ; tla
had no reason for thinking anything J
ut weel of him , and I think better
if him now. " Oh , what a grand thing tlh tlg ;
will be in the last day to see God h
lick out his heroes and heroines.
Vho are those paupers of eternity if f
rudging off from the gates of heaven ? iftl
Vho are they ? The Lord Claver-
louses and the Herods and those who
lad scepters and crowns and thrones , tlg
tlP ;
ut they lived for their own aggrand- P
zement , and they broke the heart of
ations. Heroes of earth , but pau- I
ers in eternity. I beat the drums of fi
heir eternal despair. Woe , woe , woe ! ti
* * * * *
The Heroes of Heaven.
What harm can the world do you
'hen the Lord Almighty with un-
heathed sword fights for you ? I
reach this sermon for comfort. Go
ome to the place just where God has 3
ut you to play the hero or the hero-
le. Do not envy any man his money-
r his applause or his social position.
o not envy any woman her wardrobe
w '
r her exquisite appearance. Be the
ere or the heroine. If there be no
our in the house and you do not
thing tappng
and you
the window
Go to
pane and open
Snd of raven
it la the beak a
* the
will fly
and there
the window ,
that fed Elijah. Do you
who grows
think that the God
cotton , ol the South will let you freeze
for lack of clothes ? Do you think that
disciples on
the God who allowed his
Sabbath morning to go into the grain
field and then take the grain and ruD
and eat-do you tblnK
it in their hands
God will let you starve ? Did you ever
hear the experience of that old man ,
"I have 'been goung and now am old.
yet I have tver , seen the righteous
forsaken'or bs seed begging bread. "
Get up out of your discouragement ,
0 troubled soul , O sewing woman , O
man kicked and cuffed by unjust em
ployers , 0 ye who are hard beset in
the battle of life and know not which
way to turn , 0 you bereft one , O you
sick one with complaints you have
told to no one , come and get the com
fort of this subject. Listen to our
great Captain's cheer : "To him that
overcometh will I give to eat of the
fruit of the tree of life which Is In
the midst of the paradise of God. "
I > roccsk by Which a Spurious Article Caa
He Surely Detectetl.
State Chemist J. A. Hummel has hit
upon a new scheme which he thinks
will surely bring the butterlne dodgers
to time. By a combination of nickel
prisms , microscopes and a lensless
camera with a sensitive plate Mr.
Hummel has developed a plan which
must show the difference between but
ters and pseudo butters to every ama
teur eye at a moment's glance. Thus ,
it is hoped , the photographs will carry
weight with a jury where chemical
formulae failed. When asked to ex
plain the process of examination by
photographic methods Mr. Hummel
said : The simple fact to be considered !
is that pure butter as made in the
dairies or at the creamery contains
only amorphous fat. Any heating
process such as is followed In renova
tion and running in of milk Immedi
ately generates fat crystals. In the
oleomargarine the crystals from the
meat fats added to cotton seed oil are
very thick. Now , all we need to do Is
to place a sample of suspected butter
in a glass slide and then under the
microscope. We put one prism above
and one below In such a way that the
light rays cannot pass through , ac
cording to a law of physics. Now we
push the tube of a camera directly
over the head of the microscope and
insert a plate at the other end. No
direct light , you see , can pass through
that Is , as long as these two prisms
are properly placed. But , according to
the laws of light , as soon as we get a
third prism such as a crystal , which ,
you know , is of prismatic shape , the V
light again finds its way through.
Consequently , if the butter is free from
crystals no direct rays and only a dull
translucent light will pass through ,
while otherwise bright and dark spots
will come together and form the pe
culiarly shaped picture you see In the
oleomargarine sample. The proof Is
simple , absolute and convincing. St.
Paul Pioneer Press.
In This Instance
It Failed to Bring
About Any Result * .
"I suppose it was "
wrong , said a
well-known member of the Detroit bar
with a grin , "but I couldn't afford to
let the opportunity pass. My wife has
become a convert to the mind cure
fad , and for the last month I have
hear nothing but the power of mind
aver matter. I said little , hoping that
she would soon tire of it and drop it.
But I was doomed to disappointment ! 1
for the
longer she harped
on it the
worse she became. This morning she
Siscovered that a water pipe was leak
ing , and she went at it with that uni
versal woman's tool , a hairpin , with
he result that she only made the hole
arger and caused a small jet of water
o be shot Into the room. Clapping a
inger over the hole to stop the flow
f water , she called loudly for me , and
vhen I appeared on the scene I took
he situation in at a glance. 'What is
he matter , my dear ? ' I asked. 'There.
s a hole In the pipe ! ' she gasped
get a plug while
I hold the water
mck. 'There is no leak there if you
vill only think so , ' said I , soothingly
Put your mind on it and remove your
inger. ' 'John '
Henry' she
began , but
it that moment her finger slipped and
jet of water hit
her in the eye , and
he valuable remarks
that she was
ibout to make were lost for all time
John , ' she ' '
snapped , 'can't you see that
he wall paper will be
ruined if I let
o ? ' 'Weil , my dear , ' said I , ignorine
ier question , 'it is time I was going
own town , besides I am afraid that
I remain here I may interfere with
he calm , reposeful
working of your
nmd. Convince
yourself , my dear , that
here is no leak and
remove your fln-
er. With that I left
her. I took the
irecaution. however , to send up a
lumber ; but from what I heard whan
left I am afraid her
mind was far
rom being in
reposeful "
mood " Da-
roit Free Press.
The Postal Card Fad.
The postal card fad. which Is SO
irulent in Europe to-day , has not vPt r'
eacned this country , and the nal
ations are that it will never amount
the craze here that It haa alr
ecome abroad. All sorts of
an already be had. and there is
carcely a noted spot in the
rom Niagara Falls to *
Mammoth a r / j
n continue.