Evening Star Newspaper, November 7, 1891, Page 12

—E_ , THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D.C. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 7, —_ IN THE PHONO “Uy GRAPH ROOM. EDISON AT HIS WORK. A Talk With the Famous Inventor | in His Laboratory in New Jersey. HOW HE LOOKS AND TALKS. His Wonderfol Laboratory—Mow Electric Lights Are Tested—The Inventions of the Futare—A Little Chunk of Coal to Light # House and a Baskerfull toMove a Steamboat. New Your, November 7 UR PATENT puts @ premium on ras- | cality. I have taken! out seven hundred pat- ents for my tions, but I have never had one minute's pro- tection. inven- The speaker was Thomas A. Edison. Theplace was hisexperi- ntal laboratory near N. J. The about 11 Mr. E thirty for no sleep the seventy-two hours i closed his eyes for f those tle rest plisb totalk to me his vest of and with bis and we RoW RE Wonks. During these inventive periods Edison sleeps im his laboratory and bis meals are sent down from his magnificent home at Llewellyn Park. chinery, and there chine from asteam engine toa pin that could not be made in th pet. prefers th felt when he discovered a new principle or something im i me it made grasped at flower or the bugologist at a bug which he dis- covers and knows is new to science. sai The herd. as magnified, is as bigas that of a Newfoundland dog, and ithas nding out from its center in all directions as though about ig had been driven into a place the kize of a trade dollar. Its eyes stand out from the head and in the photograph each eve of this fly. which in the original was not larger than the head of a pin, is bigger than the palm of my hand, and itis made up of thousands upon thonsands of little bits of eyes fastenet! toxether like a honeycomb, and Mr. Dickson. n’s pho- is me that if TESTING ELECTRIC L Only an ele ders of the el oats. reciate the won- trical appli In one large room the machines are so 4 walls thirty inder the «lite rest on solid tory them can affect thy or by vibration. | of these little f them all Idle of the . are all very one of them has its biograp It is closely watched from hour to hour and the brilliancy and the time it will barn without br carefully noted hoped to get 2 perfect carbon which will burn ta wer room lamps were and fi In - another mg blon in a third L labora i f me king or wearing this in time derfect lamp the rever. being 4, and here Mr. away on the reduction of Edison ‘is working ver and gold. MR. EDISON'S HOME. Other rooms were devoted to heavy ma- ardly any kind of a ma- laboratory. It is Edison's inventor is worth millions, but he to steam yachts, coaching excur- #, polo and the am nts of other mil- naires, and his greatest delight is in During our talk I asked him how he nt in invention, and he told him happy all over and that he tlike the botanist does at anew INVENTORS AND PIRATES. ir two inches ! © | of the man who is to be repro which we will have the most powerful of elec- tric currents. We expect through it to hear the noises made on the sun, and the explosions which are supposed to be constantly going on there will, 1 believe, within. few weeks be heard right here. We have been working at the matter for some time and have it just about ready for test A WHISPER AROUND TBR WORLD. “We have by no, means reached the perfec- tion of the telephone,”. Mr. Edison went on. “Improvements are being made all the time, and the day will come when every one will have his telephone. Long-distance telephoning is EForing and the only restriction of the poss bilities of the telephone ie in the sympathetic contact of the electrical wire with the rest of nature. If a single wire could be placed so high above the earth that it would not touch the mountain tops you could whisper around the world and you could sing a song in London and have it heard in Pekin. Wherever we get the wire comparatively free from contact with the earth distance seems to make no difference, and on a governmentline a thousand miles long over a trecless country in Arizona we got a bet- ter telephonic connection than we do now be- tween New York and Philadelphia. If we could havea telephone from the earth to the sun— Imean a wire—we could send sounds there with perfect ease, and with the phonograph, were our language universal, we could make a speech hiere and have it recorded aud repro- duced in any of the great planetary bodies.” THE KINETOORATH. He took me out into his laboratory and ‘showed me his lust invention in connection with the phonogragh, which he calls by the name of the kinetograph. With the phono- graph you can take a song of Patti's from the lips of the diva, and can reproduce it before | au audience a year later ana a thousand miles away. By the kinctograph, with the aid of a ‘opticon, you can throw upon ® screen 8 picture of Patti just as she looked and acted at the time she was’ singing the song, and one of | the great exhibitions of the futu I be the | Feproduction of great speeches and songs in | this way. You can reproduce e pantomime etograph and you can make Chaun- Depew deliver the same after-dinner specch & thousand tines with the same gestures and | the rame emile if you ean once get him before it. It is made by instantaneous photography ueed. ‘The ma- chine takes him in action anditso works that it | takestwo thousand seven bundred and sixty pho- tographs every minute that he is speaking. or forty-six pictures of him every second. — These ph 8 are taken on a long strip of gela- adin reproducing them they are Ive as fast before the eye as ‘when they were taken. ‘The restit is that the eye jogs not v-six photographs, but it oue with the motions or gestures Isawone of these machines in motion repre dison’s em- ployes taking a rmoke, and” you can see the man raise the cigar to his lips, turn his head and blow out the smoke just ‘as naturally though he were in ii! Another set of phot graplis represented x boxing match, and it was as uatural as though the men were actually fighting before your eyes, and it som took a’ dozen photographs to make moti Mr. Edison expects to show this machine in ite perfection at the Columbian exposition. The strip on which the photographe are taken is about as wide asatape measure, but the figures are magnified through a giass in lookin at them. ELFCTRICITY AND THE NEWSPAPERS. Mr. Edison takes pride in having been a Rewspaper man. He likes to talk of the days when, as a boy, he edited and printed the Grand Trunk Hercld. He tells me he was a} tewsboy on the train when he did it and he be- dieves it is the only newspaper that bas ever been published ‘on a newspaper train. He ran | it for more than ayear sud by virtue of it he says he is now a inember of the New York Press Club. He talked with me as to the new | Paper teports which he sent out while a tel egrapher und told me that the worst copy lie ever handied was that of George M. Bloss of | the Cincinnati Enquirer. Suid he: “Twas a telegraph operator at Cincinnati at the time he was editor of the Enquirer and his | copy sometimes came into the office. 1 re- member one piece which none of could trarelute and We sent it back to the Enguirer office and had them copy ittor us. It was worse writing than that of Horace Greeley, and I remember that we. tacked a piece of it upon the wall of the telegraph office and lefta stand- ing offer below it of #10 to the first man who could deciper ten lines of it,and the money was never claimed.” “Xe cel Bie Ye EDITOR BLoss’ TANDWRITING, turning to the patent system Mr. Edison | “The people suppose I have made money out Upon a plain table cover n paper | of my inventions. The truth is, 1 have never lay the remains of his bre These were | made one cent out of my inventions, All I the bones of two mntton e crumbs of | have made has been out of manufacturing. M muffin and a # fruit can in the bottom of ns have not been protected by the p which was a littl? coffee of the same brown | e. The companies with which I am color as that iz: the which Mr. Edi- | connected have spent millions in trying to de- ton had svidently used instead cf acup. In| one corner of the room was a washstand with a couple of well-used towels over it and the re- mainder of the space was twken up with bot tles, machines and other articles of an experi- mental kind. The room in which Mr. Edison aleeps when at the laboratory is quite au simple and his bed is a folding arrangement which you could buy anywhere for #25. I¥ THE LARORATORY. Still this laboratory, all told, must cover sev- eralacres. Its original cost must have been more than half a million of dollars, and it| takes, it is said, more than £100,000 a year to run it Itisthe most complete luboratory in the world, ani no inventor in bi had anything like unto it. whic! chure ory bas ever In its store room y the way fer than any country | in the U tes. Mr. Edison has ry known material substance, from, ool of cotton to the eyeballs of | jes Senator. He bas everything from moss from Iceland to » hippopotamus tooth, and he bas pieces of every variety of animal and mineral substances, so that he does not have to go out of his labora- tory for anything. Thereare more than 25,000 different articles in the store room. and some of these cost as high as €1,000 an ounce. TRE PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY. The workshops of the laboratory cover, I Judge, more than four acres of tloor space, and the great brick building, with its big windows, more like a factory than a place for the masking of experiments. Everything in it is of the most complete kind in the world, from its mechanical rooms to its musical department, and you will find no finer photograph gallery | anywhere in the country. The hend of this, | Prot. W. L.K. Dickson, has an international | Feputation as s photographer and he brings | out every week some new wonder in his experi- | ments. He has a wonder: skill in the tise of | ‘the camera upon objec er the microscope. | . is b } | i | One of the last ex: iment ary !cdepartment wasa photograph of the head ‘hi photo- @f a house By. This photogra hs «.creme thing had me, and the ordinary invertor has no protec- tion w. | merely a certificate to the poor house, and hundreds of inventors are ruin: plied Mr. Edison. at the Leginning of inventions. Weare discov- now make maps of mining countri ering new principles, new powers and new ma- | just about where the veins of iron ore are lo- teria When we get electricity dir lump as big as this tumbler will light and heat a whole hous for hours and a basketful would | bad to contain 50 run a factory a whole day. ofsteam we of the coal. In coal a few bi | pldth,which rans straight | Mr. E fend them. I have spen: .000 myself nd I believe I wou! be $600,000 Letter off if I had never taken out a patent. What I 1 have made has been because I have und erstood able to e the manufacturing of them better pirates. Teculd not have made any- I not bad large capital back of the ever. His certificate of patent is | ‘They spend all they have in getting out their inventions | and they die poor. GREAT INVENTIONS OF THE FUTURE. “Do you thin Edison,” said I, “that the inventions of the next fifty years will be equal to those of the last fifty?” “Ieee no reason why they should not,” re- “It seems to me that we are every day, and no one can predict the | ssibilities of the future. Take electricity. | tly from coal a In the generation | ¥ get 14 per cent of the energy | electricity we get 96 per cent. | When we get our electrical power direct from | dred pounds witl carry you across the Atlantic a few basketfuls will take a | railroad train from New York to San Francisco. | I believo this to be one of the great prob- lems of the fatare and I have no doubt but that it will be solved. Ihave been working on it for years, but [haven't got it yet. When it does come it will revoiutionize everything. It} will cheapen everything and it will be the greatest invention of modern times. As it is now we have to burn the coal to get the seam and the steam gives us the power which runs the dynamo and produces the electricity.” “Will itever be possible, Mr. Edi I, “to take the page of a newspaper as sct upin New York and telegraph such a photograph of in,” said it to the other great cities of the country as could bo placed at once on an etching plate and one setting up in this way do for the whole json thought for a moment and then #, that could be done, though I don't know whether it would be profitable, and the day may also come when a man sitting at a type-setting machine in New York may by tapping the keys of a typewriter set up the press dispatches by meahs of similar machines in every newspaper office of the United States. There iz no doubt but this could be done now, and when we have perfect type-setting ma: chines our press telegraphers can do the set- ting up of their own dispatches.” THE IRON FIELDS OF NEW JERBEY. Mr. Edison's new processe of iron reduction have brought a vast desl of new ore into the market, and his partners have secured miles of iron territory in the mountains near hie home, and Mr. Edison says there are sixty million dol” lars’ worth of iron ore in sight. Lie showed me an instrument for determining where iron is. It was shaped like « compass, and a need it points to figures showing the cl magnetic ore below it. This is known by the dip of the needle, and Mr. Edison's surveyors and tell | cated, [saw such a map of a county in Michi- gan and it located with certainty the vurious deposits. ‘These New Jersey iron mines have been worked for years, but heretofore the rock per cent of iron or it w good. By Edison's process if it containe 25 per cent it pay#well. THE NEW ELECTRIC ROAD. Before I left I looked at Mr. Edison's street railroad upon which he is working. The car and track are ia the yard surrounding the | laboratory and the invention I understand is ready for use. It is intended for large citi which will not permit the use of overhead wire. | It will be much cheaper than the cable, but will | ve more expensive than the trolley system and it may be used on a regular railroad as well as | ona street car, Its locomotive will have 1,000 horse power and it will take up the electricity | from a rail which runs along through the cen- | ter of the track and between the two rails on ETOG “Will we ever have flying machines? “Yes. [think so,” was the reply, “but it will not be on any of the plans now proposed. 1 have a different idea in regard to such matters, am not ready to experiment with them about the making of fuel from water?” t believe it will ever pay,” rephed Mr. ‘Water is the ashes of nature. There mg more like ashes. It took #n exor- | mous cegree of heat to make the hydrogen and the oxygen combine to make water and it takes & great degree of heat to revivify them. I don't believe it will ever be commercially profitable.” MIS TELEPNONE fo THE SUX. The conversation here turned to the tele- phone and I asked Mr. Edison as to his tele- phone tothe sun. ‘This telephone experiment isthe biggest thing of the kind in nature. ‘Yhere is in the New Jers¢y mountains @ vast mass of iron,a mile long and of about the same down into the earth ‘Fhe telephone,” said tdisen. “is, you know, made by runuing a iro around the iop of a magnetic bar.and this machine when charged with electricity enables us to register the sounds which come in con- tact with “Wear oft tel for a number of miles. RAPH SLIP. which the cars move. It will not be expensive ut down and Mr. Edison says the streets will not have to be torn up as they are for the cable. He believes it will be the street railway | for cities of the near future and says he is mak- ing the invention for Mr. Villard. THE STOMACH 4 CHEMICAL LABORATORY. As wo talked in this way, running rapidly from one subject tc another, my wonder as to Mr. Edison's - wonderful vitality increased. As I said above. though he had had only six laboratory and digestion ds merely a chemical operation. If I find ghat my stomach is: not working rightly I kndw that the right chemical action is not going on inside of it and I change my food. If havo been eating meat I drop flesh foods altogether and confine myself to tables, and in a short time I find myself all Tight. It ive. been eating moré vegetables than meat I drop the vegetables and the meat brings me back to my normal state.” LITTLE SLEEP NEEDED. . “How do you get along with so little sleep?” I asked. “I don’t believe,” said Mr. Edison, “‘thatman needs as much sleep as is generally supposed. think we sleep too much and eat too much. Six hours or six and « half are plenty for me and Iseldom take more. If Isleep eight hours I find that after breakfast I want to go to sleep again, whereas five hours puts me in eplendi condition and Iam ready for anything. I in- herit a very good constitution. My grand- father lived to wore than a hundred years of age and my father # ninety-two. Neither of them were long sleepers, and I think sleey after ail is more of a matter of habit than snything else, and that in the far future if we shoul bave an artificial light which would make the world like day, vear in and year out, we would never sleep at all.” ‘This remark concluded my interview and after a walk with Mr. Edison through hi laboratory I drove to the station past Liewel- lyn Park, where Mr. Edison has one of the most beautiful countzy residences in New Jer- sey. Here, simple and unpretentious, he lives comfortably with his family, devoting the’most of his time to his life work of invention. greatest happiness, he tellx me, comes from his work, and among the millionaires of today his life stands out as a lesson for the young men of the future. Faaxx G. HONEYMOON BAGGAGE. A Cruel Joke Played by Friends ons Newly Welded Couple. From the Philadelphia Press, Lieut. P. R. Brown, U. 8. A. and bride, who were married on Monday at Phillipsburg, were the victims yesterday of # ludicrous practical joke at the hands of their friends, boarded the Pittsburg day express, whi reaches here xbout 6:30, and, like most ho: mooners, tried to look and act like old married people. Meanwhile their baggage was holding an im- promptu reception in the baggage car. There were three brand-new trunks, and upon one of them a huge card, carefully painted, was tacked with large brass tacks, with the inscription: HONEYMOON BAGGAGE. “Bride's Trousseau.” This was further ornamented with a largo bow of white atin. On the second trunk waa @ placard like thi Handle With Care. : “Just Married.” and another huge white satin bow. The groom uk Was spared a label, but the satin | bow wasa iritls larger and more conspicuous They | a THE-LANDIN TOM, DICK AND ‘A Comedy, With Serious Tendencies, in One Act. BY ROBERT CAMERON ROGERS. G NET; HARRY. ‘From Harper's Weekly. Dramatis Persovz. Costcxrs. ‘Miss Kars Lavperate..Morning gown. Mz. Tomas Mznatax..Pink coat, dark trousers, gown. ‘Tony, a bull-terrier pup.Collar and leash. Scext.—A country house almost anytchere. A leading toa tandir 3 at one door, "Foxes" bruches trophies adorn the walls. Enter Mr. Merriam (“Tot Tom. I'm sure heard Singt now. | (de {7088 part of nt “calle again) No: shi abont somewhere, awhile. am; | fee She has eye (Shake: knows how to use them. Of ¢ Anyhow, she shall before the (Muses, “with handle of er mouth.) Th ‘8 Dick; ” he’ but too Pm not her. Still (sirdches his boot Hot Tibink sie tikes me. i him! why wili he make a co | Dick thinks she likes bim. j suit himself, too, 1 suppose. ( truthiniiy 100Rs ai his watch.) terrace. dale, lei g Toby people (0 unintelictual d Miss 1. some kind of net wor togolame! And she any comfort in Sorry—for them. ) Ofall woork.) [hate thi tes cd neediework. It's well tance. is often quite eff: a burden. tive. ing? ‘That sprained wrist him in bed, pe. fast T should be in the house ti morning. And to think of bis than the others. | The baggage agent thought the thing too | good to keep to himself, no he invited everybody | in to enjoy the joke. H Of course everybody went through the car to | find the young married couple, aud equally of course the young married couple were ensily | found, and they wondered, as the peopic i broadly when zhey passed them, whether | y were ictiously married than ail the other young brides and groome that had lived and moved and had their beings, or whether they wero only suffering what thou- sands bad done before them. ‘They never found out, and itis presumed that the trunks thus belabcled rolled up to Some prominent Philadelphia hotel and gavo the baggage «mashers a treat. eee THE ARIZONA KICKER, It is = Foolish Man Who Tackles = West- ern Editor. From the New York World. Waxtep.—The Kicker wants to engage a spirited and enterprising young man who is not afraid of work and is ambitious to build him- self upto actas a collector. We Lave about $600 standing out and will furnish a mule and two revolvers as an outfit free of expense. The collector will be allowed to retain half of his collections. We regard this as a splendid opening for some au:bitious eastern man who wants to work up in journalism. Ho will no doubt be shot at fifty times for every hundred dollars he col- lects, but if he's got the right sort of sand he'll pull through and come out on top of the heap. After wo've given him a dozen lessons or. get= ting the drop, and he's had a couple of days’ acquaintance with our mule, we'll back him to tackle any one of our non-paying subscribers outside of a rifle pit. In case of death we ntee a fair to medium funeral. Apply at Ar Ir Aoaty.—As is well known to tho read- ers of the Kicker we have a private gravoyard with ten graves in it. The ten graves repre- sent ten different men who were mistake in sizing us up for an editor without backbone. We did the fair thing in each and every case. sending for the coroner, buying a cofiin, turn- ing out the bors in procession, and su on. The average cost has been $27 per funeral, and that’s rich for this locality. Our contemporary. who has never shot a man, has been insanely jealous of our “plant out on the sand lots, and on two occasions be- fore last night has been canght in the act of trying to steal some of the head boards to start agraveyard of his own. At 10 o'clock last night we received word that he was out there again. We mounted our mule and rode out. He had just commenced operations. WE RUN WIM SEVEN MILES. He had his old mule hitched to the fence and took the alarm and mounted before we got up. We run him seven miles, but his. mule was the fastest and he got away. We want to be neighborly as an editor, but we also want this old lop-shouldered, bow- legged hyena to thoroug ly understand that he has at last made us tired, and that any further fooling around on his part will leave his milk- an@-water old sheet without a h@ad. Ir Was a Fartone.—We got a sly hint sev- eral days ago that the postinaster of this town, whom we had to shoot in three different places within a year in order to expedite the mail service and prevent him from walking on ws, had sent over to Tubac to get aman to do us up. The routine of getting out one of the big- gest and brightest weekly papers in America (subscriptions payable in advance) went on just the same, however, and we didn't do any private and confidential worrying. “ All the forenoon feglerday we heard some one hollering around the streets for gore and upon inquiry learned thut it was the man from Tul He was reported as being a real, old-fashioned terror from Grizaly mountai with his toe nails dyed red and his eyes shin: ing like two camp fires, and that he was also looking for us. We were never more calm or sercne. We sent out to our grave digger to excavate another hole and wrote a note to Steve Williams, the undertaker, to varnish up @ whitewood 2x6, and get the trimmings ou. It was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon when we finished our cditorial labors for that day and started out for a saunter. Just as we turned into Sioux place the man from Tubae jumped out on us from a doorway and started in to secure our right ear relic. We sat ‘up with him most of the night last night. Ono the bullets has been extracted, but the other couldn't be reached with a three-foot atick. Unless inflammation sets in he will very likely pull through. If he does he assures us that ho will bea changed man. He wouldn't exactly say that the postmaster gave him $50 to come over and humble our proud editorial spirit, but he said enough to satisfy us that we must rur. over tomorrow and have another pop at Mr. Wanamaker's man. ‘He's getting too coltish again. ———_eo—_____ Blight Acquaintances. hours’ sleep in seventy-two, he sh no signs of weariness, and his health seemed to be perfect. What man of fifty-two who reads this per could act and feel fresh efter thirty-six [ours out of bed? Edison is ‘Sfty-two, and be Jooks as though he live to be a hundred. Said be in re fo.y question: “I tIem in iL and I 6 imwecmp es romain! ave the yw expel ce id to go upon, and I don't know why should not do food work in the future. “How about your stomach,” said 4. “Thomas Carlyle, you know, says’ be did not know he had a stomach until he was twenty- two. How about you? Doyou know that you have a stomach?” ‘ “Yi Be with mi och Mab, uae fact. I »that I have indigestion some- times, but I ure myself. I do this by change of diet ‘The slomash is chemiel From Life. the pink coats after that! Tos in his generation. Still (aug! oflens; Tom enters lal.) Why, startled me! ho!” and all that. here? Miss L. (rishi). Tom. A meaning in that remark. ‘me to stay. Tom. Do you mean I phrases to suit every day I was telling alist you were. Tom. Good-natured of you, agreed, of course. ‘Miss L. Ob, yes. Ho said well. farry what “talked,” did he? Kate ' (innocently). ornamental. Ton or te it a net for fishes? Miss L._ I hate tenni Tom. Not even in Miss L. Pardon me? Toms (not altogether pleased to have to explain andI his fisher of men, of course. you. Mi ural perversenoss alone bids m Lie this morning. Tom. I'm not. Mise L. aenly.) ay ‘iss L. All on account of Kit you? of Kate. on. You remind me ol spinning there. old wemen, aren't they? Tom. aFate. Now my Fato— good-natured of you! ture my me: with afr of great (Stience ion and nd Well say now as any time hope for a fate so—- She gives a little exelam turns. Katherine. morning, tas F. (with cn ctr of Mis: T ill-natured!y). after Toby! ‘Many thanks, at's up with Tom? It's just ay easy. Dick. Who's talking? Tont (secereiy). | Sapphira! room gown? a L. No, I she lett "t, but £ when they come. Miss L. But you're so youare! You see (softly), you. Tom ‘ily, striking stick.) "That Stes you look suppose. Ob, no; you are no you or Izaak Walton wrote the How Dick takes = bait! sighs.) I should rather eay shi 8 cropsteck.) 1 dare say Lam the hounds, leading the bunt, shouting Miss L. (with sad mendacity) butler, in the breakfast room. huntir I, aly ih saree end large double 8, deers anilers, and other ite's voice here calls.) Miss Lauderdale! (Then the slawrs, looks around ins Lauderdale! doren art seats himself on one of the She can't havo gone with the hounds. after all nd I'll wait here (Swuiches his boot with his cropstick nervously.) I believe I'm rattled. By Jove! I that's the truth. She must (Comes lower steps.) now how I his head and had, and ourse she kno morning’s ov. vopstick to his bright, rather, afraid of him: ‘There's Harry; old enough, certainly, but— No, it does: t seem to me that he's the man for again), it's alia ‘confound nfidant of me?— Harry thinks to Yauons nervously, jass to precipitate affairs. What's that ab “Tools rushing in where angels fear to treac ! Weill, T always admired the nerve of the fools, and in th ean use the other two of being angels. Now whtre the deuce is Kate? Isl step out and see if she ison the nft. As he disappears, Miss Lander- k, appears upon alis todog in the maudlin languege usually addressed by intelligent Yes he wasa little love, he was. (Seats herself on landing and hegins working at days for Kitty the only mount I take No hunt for me today. (Laughs and puts down her ort of thing. Always de- I enough when Vre talking with any one—t man, for in- It bridges little awkward silences, and Butalene it becomes (Yavus and clasps her hands over her knees, antl ooks dreamity down the stays.) I wonder if Dick isn't coming down this morn- n't going to keep Its re | (Takes up rrork again.) told ly lonesome. ‘Tom at break- he most of the going off with mmy isn't wise hs softly), er- haps he is, alter all Si la jeunesse sdeait (Boor , Tom, how you I supposed you were following rally Tom (sentimentally, and sittiny on the stair just Lelio). You thought that, and you alone Alone, but not lonely. 1! I presume there is a hidden It means, prima facie, go; really, however, I think you prefer At any rate (leans back comforta- bly), 1 shall for a while. Biss 1. What an analyst you are! Do you happen to have joined the Society for Psychi- cal Research? am searching for | Psyche? Yes. You don't know how like my ideal of her vou are as you sit there. Mise L. How delightful! Thanks, #o much! How versatile you are! You can turn your emergenc} Only yester- &@ conversation- T'msnure. Harry you talked very Tom (vith asperity). Threw the accent on What accent? Harry doesn't talk with an accent. Here bail of worsted); try and be use! tossing his as well as What are you making—a tonnis net, am no fisher. apostolic sense? mot). Wasn't your uncle a clergyman? Where is your early education? I meant Miss L. (chillingly). The net isn't spread for Tom (laughing). No, but I seem to have ran. inte it. Still, if Tam intruding, Pl go. [Sits quite stitt, I. Ah, but you don’t go! me to urge you to remain, you're doomed to disappointment, Why don’t you go? Tom (with elaborate air of indifference). Nat- If youexpect © stay. ‘Miss L. Natural perverseness alone! Compli- mentary. I wonder why you are so disagreea- Miss L De gustibus non. (Silence a moment. Qrgenude to be busy with her work. Sud- Vhy aren't you with the hunt this morn- itty. Why aren't Tom. A reason quite cognate—all on account Miss 1. How graceful! Don't stir (as he at- tempts t come nearer). You'll tan, at present you're really service: one of the Fates Aes Z. 4 thousand thanks. They're ugly that skein, le. That's Michael Angelo's conception of Mis# L. Oh, am Ito be your Fate? That's Tom (despairingly). How you twist and tor- @ moment, then well-braced cour- age.) Sul as we are talking of Fates, 1 may + could I dare Leans over toward her with sudden fervor. c Just then a voice is heard above, 8: ‘ation, and drope ball of worsted, which rolls to bottom of stairs. Tom sulkily pursues it, and re- Miss L. It's Dicky. He's on the third floor. Sit on the lower step and he won't see you. Dick (from above, over the balusters). Good- All through breakfast? concern). Why, Dick, what did you try to get up for, with your oor wrist? Yes, all through and off to the unt, but Toby, and—a—(hesitates)—Tom. lonorable mention— Dick. Miss L. (with malice aforethought). Nothing at all serious, I fancy. ick (laughing). “Nose out of joint? Poor my! 6 ee Jaugh. Tom (in undertone to Miss L.). Why didn’t he break his neck instcad of spraining a wrist? )). Brown, the Dick.” Ym coming down. You won't mind expect the Col- Is every minute, and you know what prudes they are, Dick, Oh, bang the Colletts! TN run beck Pike tock ants his boot with his crop. down on me, I fisher. ‘Was’ it An 1891-SIXTEEN PAGES. preaame. Tom (terathfully). A compliment! I Pg oes And that man up there my in- timate friend! Dick. Ha! ha! ha! Roing on. He's more of a conversationaliet an supposed. I aay, Kate. [think what's- bie-name is getting very fond of—you know P quiet. b, you know well enough. To's « food fellow, of course. Why don't’ you take a Miss L. (unkindly). Perhaps I don't want him. Oh Ser Ree gece enough fellow, as =: say. Good enough for some, perbaps, ra — (appealingly). Now, Kate, don't be fm chagrin) You amuse me, er pm ee Lhope beng amuse your- Miss L. Oh ye. 1—— Dick (inter-upting). Kate, why do you always Jest with me and troat me so lightly’ Miss L. Do yov expect ae to take you au serieuz? Dick. There you go again—slways chafing. You never take me bt way. Tom. He should be well shaken before being taken. ['li de the shaking. Afiss L. Shall Ido the taking? Tom. For better or worse? Never. Dick. Kate, I'm coming down. Afiss L. (hurriedly) Oh, don't! You are ee picturesque up there, and in jast « mincte I'm coming up to bathe that poor wrist of yours, Does it pain very much? Dick, Well, rather. Oh-h? (Groans. Tom (maiciousi)). Ark how he did it. iss L. How vid you do it, vou poor boy? Di #10 trick at all to do, but it’s some- thing awful when it’s done. Ob’! [Groans loudly. Tom. Vil make you a wazer. Miss L. Yes, Dicky, in just_a_moment—let me wind up this worsted. (Zo Tom.) What about’ Tom. That Dick's wrist in as well as it ever was. He knew Kitty was lame; here you were tobe in the Louse ali the morning—put two and two togetler and make four. Miss L. (ova sweet, naive manner). Yes, but it only makes three of us. Tom. Yes, unbappil Dick (dismaly). * dying, Egypt, dy- ing” Oh, Cicupatra—Katherine—come aud take care of m Tom (cise )._ Where's his nurse? rok (sudieuly). “Kate, you said Tom was somewhere about the place. Did you say why he wasn't with the hounds? Miss L. ile guve no reason. Dick. T'm glad of thst, for hehad no reason. He merely wanted to stay and visit you. 1 see through Miss L.- So to stay and visit me was no rea- son Thank you se much, Dick! Tom (seizing his opportunity). That was my sole, my only reason, Kate. Teall itan excel- Jent one. Miss L. You're improving. Dick. You misunderstand what I mean, of course. It was, to be sure, the best of roa- sons. (Rising softly.) Tom. Hark to the echo! Well, Kate, I must go; I— Miss L. "Don't go. ’ Dick will hear you, too. Tom (kindly). Dick be hanged! Heil catch his ears in # tree some day aud hang himeelf— like Absalom. Dick (meditatively). I call Tom something of a maf. Miss L. Dick, you should be ashamed. Be- hind his back, too, and youand be such friends! You ought to hear (with a sly look at Tom) she pleasant things he says of you. Tom (guiltily). Kate, you're worse than a con- science. Dick (relenting) Does he? Well, it is low in me. I wonder if you would take my part against detractors as strongly as you take his? Afiss L. Ab! but, you see, Tom is like a brother tome Dick (meaningly). I wish he were your brother. Miss L. (nnocently). Why? Dick. Then he could never be “still dearer yet than all other,” as the poet sayse. Miss L. Dick, really you are quite bets. Dick. Whitebait! Ob, rapture! She's csll- ing me pet namea! Afiss L. Well, you are like whitebait now— you're out of season. Tom (laughing and choking). One moreon Dicky. Dick. What's going wrong down there? Miss L. Toby's swallowed a fly. (Zo Toby,) Poor ‘ittle man! Dick. Oh, how this wrist pains! Aren't you coming up? I believe you know how pretty you look down there. Miss L. Of course I don’t. Do I, really? How pretty do I look? Tom (with an eye to popularity). Ask him something easier. Miss L. (to Dick). Why don't yon tel! me? Dick I feel the restrictions of the English language There are not words to express. Miss L. How long that was coming—rather far-fetched! From Europe, was it? Was the customs duty heavy? Dick. Yes. But the duty was all pleasure this time. Miss L. Now that's better. You can be nice sometimes, Dicky. Dick (a' little incoherently). Sometimes! Al- ways with you, Kate. At least I try to be. And I—I wish'you would take me just a little more seriously, for you mnst know that I— Of course you know. Still, maybe you don'tknow. Tom. Tove him another thistle; he’s braying again. Miss L. Don't be mean, Tom. (To Dick.) Your idea is beautifully clothed ia language, Dick, but I fail to gather your meaning. Encore, #°il vous plait. Dick'(half to himself). 1 believe she does know. Of course she does. She's not blind. Miss 1. No, nor deaf, either. You shouldn't soliloquize so loud. What is it I know? Dick (decided'y). I am coming down to tell ou. *eqtiss L. Don't. Dick, now. You see it may be~it ia, probably—complicated, and then— — her watch, and staris up in great fe.) Why, it's half past ten! Harry is due here now with the cart. Dick. Harry! Weil, upon my honor! [Comes down the stairs. Tom (in tone of infinite weariness). Harry! You've no heart, mo conscience, uo discrimina- tion. Harry! Dick (discovers Tom). What, Tom, you here? ‘Fom. Xow; for the last halt hoor, ee ick (sitting down and laughing confusedly). Well, please accept apologies at once. I—you see, I—a—. Tom. Nevermind that We may cry quite, T fancy. Dick. Katte, I've no words for you. You are certainly u finished flirt: “And all things show it: I thought #0 once, «nd now I know it.” Miss L. (with a view to change of subject). T know that quotation. It's Gay, I believe? Dick. It's very sad; that’s what it is, Ite the sad, bitter truth. palit = @xpeatingly). Tom, you don’t be- ve it. Tom (severely). Seeing is believing. Harry! Another case of de gustibus non, Dick. And so we were mere weapons with Tiles Zs (oie experty), You, aed fiss L. (with asperity). Yes, antl ccoatbon \Wayi hl yea beak eet oe nothing better to do all the than to banter and chaff up and down stairs with you? Twas quiotly employed here, and you came and disturbed me. and I were ‘and contented as wo were. Now you pretend great surprise and feel injured! ( Wheels haan) Abt there is Harry! I'll run and tell him that Pll be there directly. uns down stairs toward great door. Dick ing out his hand). Pardon me, old man, for calling you s maf a we Trae the truth of it pope v Vt. terathy Harry taney, Soaccuve her of acl of disctini tor! Dick. Ton waco, never, moce 90, I fancy I merase flirt. ‘ROW To TELL TREM BY THEIR LEAVES—THE Com- ‘MON SILVER MAPLE AS A RAPID OROWER—THE SUGAR MATLE—THE NATIVE AND TEE INTRO- ‘DUCED srectes. ‘Written for The Evening Star. T= MAPLES ARE PLANTED EXTEN- sively as chade trees on our street, both on account of their rapid growth and of their generous foliogo. The several varieties are generally easily separated by their leaves, and the illustrations here given will enable them to be distinguished. ‘The most common form is the white, soft or silver maple, as it is variously called. It is the mont rapid grower of all. a sapling reaching » height of about four fect the second year (rom the seed and in less than twenty years forming trunk one and « half to two feet in diameter. The tree branches freely some ten or fifteen feet from the ground and forms a rather open head. As generally seen on our streets it does not show to the best advantage, but if properly trimmed and topped when it grows too high it is quite ornamental. The «pecies blossoms very early in the spring and fruits abundantly a few weeks later. | frui hown in the figure, are often in pairs, each one provided with a beautifully striped appendage or wing. the purpose of which is to nseist in its | passage through the | air. The traits germi- nate very readily, and mideummer nearly every where to accumulate. Por ex- nts were al where th can be seen thet dirt a ample the young. p: 4th #treet north: cable road lay are, ghage, fiv figure), each lobe sharp pointed and serrate? ges. Th e is adull r one ter sbade or 5 ery white. TI and e8 to chi along the foliage se acterize the tre wood in soft ar y cut. but is not used to ant The tree is a native of this region ide range over the eastern United ‘THE svoAR MAPLT. A second species, not so common as the first, but an equaily beautiful and in some resjtects preferable a shade tree, is the sugar maple. | This, however, is of quite slow growth. The wood is hard and the branches form a close, compact head. From the «ap, drawn in carly spring, when vegetation is beginning to revive made, whence comes the leaves differ quite markedl: previous species, as can be seen by the figure, beipg conspicuously three lobed, but having these lobes only sligh: ent. It isof a dari green both iders is thicker and lacks the : ce. tumn it becomes one of the most g eons trees of the forest, vivid crimeon, making a pillar of fire in the distance. Later they turn to a golden yellow and soon drop to the ground. The flowers appear much Inter than those of the soft maple. They are pendant from long, slender petioles, and when in bloom are in themselves to distinguish the tree. is known asthe “black maple,” but it differs only slight!y from: the ordinary form. A third series ix the red maplo. This is also well characterized by the leaves, as shown in the figure. The com- mop name has been given from the vivid red of the flowers and the stems of the leaves. These are frequently only three lobed instead of five and the lobes are serrated as in the soft maple. + Of the introduced species, the three above being natives, one is the field, one the Norway and the third 'the sycamore maple. The fire! can searcely be cousiderel in the light of = shade tree, but rather as an ornamental one. The leaves are here also lobed. as in the other cases (sce figure) but differently, there being three large and two smaller lobes, none with any conspicuous or pointed teeth. In Eng- nd and in Europe, where the tree is na- tive, the wood was for- meriy highly prized, es- pecially by the ancient Romans. “It is fre- quently beautifully curled, and being hard and light it is used in wood turning and in making musical instru- ments. It has been worked so thin as to be almost transparent. ‘The tree is found in the city parks and can be readily recognized by | ‘its leaves. IN THE NORWAT MAPLE the leaf has still another form. ‘The tree itself is low and spreading and makes a dense, com- pact head. The leaves are Broad, rather thin and bright green on both sides. They have three conspicuous lobes 1 above and two p ones below, pointed, but not sei rated or toothed on the edges. It is of rather slow growth, but is an excellent shade tree. It is conspicuous for retaining its fruit for a very long period, up to the time of the falling of the leaves and even beyond. THE SYCAMORE MAPLE grows higher than the preceding, and takes a | much longer period to attain its full growth. | The leaves, in shape, arc somewhat like the Norway maple, but havo the edges of the lobes serrated. STUNTED MAPLE. Numerous varictics of maple have been pro- duced through the sclective agency of man, of these are cultivated in the De it of Agriculture grounds and in the Botanic Garden. ine A [f Hd fat i | Jewel. and ther From the Toronto Mail The variations in the levels of the great lakes have been the subject of study for many years past and various theories have been advanced to acconnt for them. Thirty years ago «il available data regarding the fluctuations were compiled, showing the more important changes in the lower lakes between 1838 and 1857, with afew facts as to exceptional phenomena jn earlier years. In 1859 the United States en- Rincers began systematic gauge readings and the work is still continued. The bighest known level occurred in 1898, when Michigan and Huron rose twenty-sit inches above ordinary high stage, ana Erie and Ontario eightéen inches. The lowest Jews was in 1819, when Erie fell about three ands haif feet below its nual plane. The fluctue- tions, apart from those which are annual aud those caused by the winds, are of periodical occurrence, and are characterized bye ne- markable approach to regularity. Since the ighest waters of 1898 there have been alter- nate periods of descension and ascension of the levels, either five, seven or eight years im lena weven-yeat period being the most frequen: Ax we have said, various theories have been vanced to account for these changes. The Zinds, of course, cause temporary snd local fluctuations. Ene. the shallowest of the lakes, has been known to have its level raised seven or might feet at one end and equally depressed at the other by a guile Rowing ‘oust or west for several days. Irregularities and vanations of atmospheric pressure also cause changes of fare tides on the lakes as well ason te —. the Lighest known pring tide ¢ about three inc ‘Sun spot influences, have been assigned asacause of the flue tions, It seems, however, to be wellestablished thet the periodical and geveral fluctuations are due to the variations in rainfall. ‘The curves shows ing the x variations of lake level approxi mate so closely to those of rainfall as to show vely that the rise and fall of the lakes ds of vears arc dependent on the eyciee rainy and dry years, which similarly coim- ris: cide with the tempers A wot years laces exceptionally high water, @ succession ot dey years extremely low water. There is « Limit, however, to euch cumulative effects, for when the water is high ite outflow is morerapid than when it is low, and en automatic check a thus provided. And the Exceptional Feature of the the young man with the creased trousers was saying. “I had just come in from lunch. It wasn't quite time to go to work again,” he continued, knocking the asbes from the end of his cigarette, “and while I was site ting in thearm chair at my desk I went te sleep. Idreamed my tailor came in with the bill for this overcoat I've got on.” It was a fine garment. He passed bis band carcssingly down ite smooth surface, shook bie head slowly and sadly and went on: “He had been in about five times already with that same bill. This isn’t = part of the dream, you know. I'm telling you straight facts now. Every Monday afternoon he used to come in regularly with that bill, and I ak stood him off somehow.” “What was the amount of the bill?” im the pimply young man with his feet on the radiator. . # good jag of money. 4 toy pe I 4 no fun in paying out §65 to tailor when you can give hima. stand-off Ie ien'e business, anybow. Well, I dreamed he had come in again with that bill. He slapped is down on the table and be says: ““Lwantthe mouey on that coat this time young man.” “Can't you drop in next week?’ Isays, TU make it all right the “No, sit,” he says, ‘I want it right now.” ouey in wy pocket, and I Ai, 1 had the dreamed I yanked it right out—the whole biamed €65—and be took it and receipted the bill and went away. “Well, sir, the shock of the unex- pected, youknow—waked me up. And there on my desk, by George. was that thander- ing old bill, and the ink on the name signed te the “Received Payment’ part of it wasn't ary! I jerked out my pocket book and opened ‘There was just €65 missing. 1 ran to the door and looked down the ball. was that Leastly tailor just starting down the stairway at the weeks. with the waxed mustache. “Did out of your pocket?” exclaimed the party with the creased “Take it out of my Not end of it. He'd got his money and I hadn't had the coat trousers. any! He hasn't got originality enough abous him for thst.” “Then how did he get it?” tn the youth with the plug hat on the side of bis head, “How did be get it?” echoed the narrator, “I paid it in my sleep, sir, begad! Paid it im my sleep! Do you think,” he groaned, “Pd what I was doing?” “No,” answered the boys unanimously, and a deep, sympathetic silence settied down on the group. WHY BOULANGE FAILED. Part of the Alphabet and Several Digits Were Against Him. Through the labors of an ingenious writer im Figaro the superstitions will find = special source of pleasure iu the life and death of Bou- langer. This writer shows that the letter B wasa fatal letter to Boulanger. He died at Brussels from a bullet, through despair over the death of Mme. de Bonnemain. Queeney de Beaurepaire was his accuser et the trial which began his misfortunes. in something the same way C is shown te have been his letter of evil influence, F his hor tile letter and L his friendly letter. "But in the matter of numbers the hand of fate is still clearer, Mme. ite Bonnemain was bora, is * four figures as num Is sue died tn 1091, the four ‘of which also add yp 19. He was born in 1887, four tigullvadd up 9. He died in there you bave 19 in. ‘Another article Journal the death of the general as more lamentable from ® commercial than from the political int of view. He calisattention to the num- rof books and pamphlets upon which the vigorous and ‘Then there were the pictures of the ‘brave general” in every conceivable garb; ideas for devices from the cartoons of Innger frequently. A cartoon of Joan of Vercingetorix, Napoleon the four aces of « ds upon ue i Ata Sunday school service a clergyman was explaining toe number of smart little urehing i i p2E8 Ha Ft Pa