Evening Star Newspaper, December 5, 1895, Page 13

THE EVENING STAR, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1895-SIXTEEN PAGES. ) CORRECT SOLUTION OF THIS STORY, CONDITIONS OF THE 1. The Star will pay 0 in gold’ to the feader from whom tt rece.ves by mail, at the publication office, Pennsylvama avenue and llth street, the complete and absolutely correct solution of “Before They Were Mar- ried,” as it shall be d'sclosed in the final chapter of the story, to be published Satur- day, December 14, in The Star. If two or “more complete and absolutely correct solu- tions are received the $250 in gold will be divided equatiy 2. Should The Star fail to receive a solu- tion that is complete and absolutely correct in all its details, the $250 .n gold will be al- lotted to the twenty-nine readers whose ex- planation shall come nearest to the true so- lution of the mystery according to their bercentage of merit, and the money will be divided as follows: Ist Prize id Prize. 4th Prize 5 Prizes o: = = $250.00 prize of $9 will he paid for the nm which comes rearest to the solution, the second prize of $27.50 to the person sendirg nearest, and so on, for the third and fourth prizes. “The remain‘ny 1 y-five urizes of $5 each will be awarded to the persons send'ng the twent:-five explanations next near to the fourth May determ'ne thei: mor't. 3. The Star ts pre-emtnently a family newspaper and its da‘ly instaliment a high grade serial story is a feature intended to especially commend It to the home circle. To emphasize—and advertise—the ‘act that The Star is a newspapir peculiarly suitable for women’s Tead’n#. the further condition is made that the $250 In prizes shall be paid only for explanations sent in by women ard girls. All may read: bu: only women and girls may guesseand w'n the gold. Before They Were Married” will continue daily installments unt: Saturday, Decem- on which date all but the final chaprer » been published. The nterval be- turday, December ., and Wednes- day, December 13, 6 o'clock p.m., ‘nclusive, will he allowed for forwarding of suesse: t al chapter wll be published in r Saturday, De-ember 14. Jnder ro Con whatever will guesses be re- ce'ved from any sonrce and considered prior to Saturday, December 7, or later than 6 o'clock p.m December 11 For no reason - TWENTY-THIRD ize, as the jucges the explanation next | , BEFORE THEY j WERE MARRIED. HENRYC.PARKERg AUTHOR OF : - ‘SCORNED TOTHE END, “ARBITRATION & C3 STAR’S GREAT OFFER. whatever will guesses from any source be re- ceived or considered after 6 o'clock p.m. December 11, except as stated in rule 3, given below. Persons who miss the first installments can obtain back numbers at the | office of The Star. Rules of the Competition. 1 But one solution can be entered by a reader. 2. All guesses must be sent by mail and In no other way, plainly addressed to “Prize Story Editor,” The Evening Star. 3. In order to put out-of-town readers of The Star on a time equality with city read- ers, they will be permitted to secure from their local postmaster an indorsement on the back of the envelope in which their guesses are forwarded, indicating the day and kour of delivery of the letter to him, | and such guesses will be accepted, provided the time be prior to 6 p.m., December I. | For obvious reasons no guesses will be con- | s'dered that are mailed later than the time given The indorsement, plainly written in ink, must be personally signed by the postmaster or acting postmaster. 4. Inquiries not considered fully answered here will receive proper attention if address- ed to “Prize Story Editor.” The Evening Star. s | _5. The $250 will be awarded under the fore- | going general conditions, according to the best judgment of the judges appointed by | The Star, and they will have complete con- | trol and final decision in all matters relating | to the contest. 6. “A complete and correct solution” can | be made In the reader’s own language :nd in the number of words necessary for an abso- lute statement-of tHe reader's guess. It | must disclose the mystery and sich material facts of the plot revealed in the development of the story as may be deemed necessary by the judges to a clear and full explanation of the mystery The names and addresses of the winners | of the cask prizes will be published In The Star ac the earliest date possible after the publication of the final chapter. No condition of subscription to The Even- ing Star is imposed. Guessers must be wo- men and girls and necessarily they mu: readers of The Star, but they may re H story in The Star taken by any member of the family and need not be regular subserib- | ers themselves In order to enter the competi- | tion. While only women and s may | guess and win the prizes, they can receive | help as to thelr guess from any member of ' their family or from all the family. INSTALLMENT. > CHAPTER XXIII-MYSTERIOUS BETSEY Having reported io his mother concern- ing Amelia's condition, the doctor withdrew to another part of the room. For a few minutes he busied his mind with considera- ard to the treatment of the case. y other patient In view he would ave proceeded almost mechanically, for as tion in re; the case stood now it presented no especial difficulties. Dr. Williams, however, was so anxious that every step should be exactly tight, that h s ing to Marshall for Dr. Morse. ously contemplated send- “It would be possible,” he thought, “to get him here by tomorrow noon. There is no mail to Marshall until evening. I will send then if it seems advisable.” Meantime there was le to do. Nature ,could be counted on to do most of the work, and such medicines as were helpful coulk well be administered by his mother iding Amelia’s Hand. as by himself. He looked across the room to the alcove and saw his mother sitting on the edge of the bed holding Amelia’s hand. “I wonder he reflected, “if mother knows?” And then he thought how strange it was that two weeks ago he should have been burning with love for Louise, and now his whole life was centered upon this invalid. It puzzled him sadly, for it reawakened his doubts as to his own loyalty. Was it pos- sible that his nature was so fickle that It might be stirred by any passing woman, until, like a shailow pond disturbed by a light breeze, he should appear to be moved profoundly? so his thoughts ran, “might nagine itself to be an ocean when its surface ripples. Is It right, then, for me to foster a love for this girl and lead her to believe in me when [ am go li- able to chang y and diverse were the considera- ested by this honest query,among them, of course, a compartson of the two girls'who had affected him. He felt that he could rely safely on what reason told him now with respect to Louise, that, with- out prejudice to her good qualities, she was utterly unfitted to be his companion. Closer acquaintances had revealed characteristics in her that were not in accord with his own nature. He recalled how, even when he had no doubt of his love, She had said and done things that Jarred upon him. That been a mistake, one of tre in which, perhaps, his ad been ‘attracted by beauty alone, aving been aroused to a consciousness love must have na freak, of attraction, the emotion had been called love by himself when others more exper- fenced might have found the term “at- traction” quite sufficient. The doctor found the problem presented cter a hard one to solve, ) does who is given to rigid Ilys He had, howeve touched upon the right ground in the supposition that his sentiment for Louise had hee: action rather than lov It is markably easy thing for a_ straighifor- ward, honorable man to idealize the emo- tions wit him aud set elf to act aceording to what he conceives they are or sht to be, whether it he in matter: ove or the more commonplace affa life, but it is most easy in love. Louse and Amelia were the first young women with whom tke doctor had come in familiar con- tect outside the admittedly good and ad- mirable, but uncultivated girls of his native village. It is hardly to be wondered, there- that he should bave been infiueaced by the more vivacious and beautiful of the two, and should have believed that the «eneral emotion she aroused was centered upon herself as an individual. This is not to y that the doctor was in love with Amelia while he thought he was in love with Louise; the attraction of the ond had had to wait for events to develop it, and as he sat in the sick room cogitating the matter the one thing upon which he could lean with assurance was present unmistakable love for Ame’ Later in the day when she roused from » and seemed brighter and stronger, he mitted her to talk more freely, and one or two things she said were helpful in still- ing the doubts that he permitted to tor- hi el ment him. He went to her side the in- stant he saw that she was awake. How now?" he asked cheerfully. He observed the impulsive moment under the coverlet that showed how her ‘and had started toward his. She did not put it out, for with growing strength, If consciousness was begigning to manifest ft-elf. The doctor, with a frank smile, reached under the co tet and grasped her Jur physician, my hough I should be e were privileged dear girl,” he said, miserable if any one € to care for you.” vhy do you wish you were not my phy- she asked. _am so tempted to depart, as m departing now, from a professional I didn't know,” she responded, “but that ought this was the best’ thing for sho siniled roguishly. Perhaps it is. I hope so, and éven as a physician [ find it hard to think that earn- » hurtful to you; for while neonscious, Amelia, 1 have love ‘ou have be found that I do love you with all the strength of which T am capable.” The doctor watched with not a little trepi tion for the effect of his words upon the patient. Her color heightened peri ibly, and her eyes glowed more w but there was no indication of undue ex: nent. That means so much!" ske said. “I never dreamed there could be so loyal! and} true an “pps, bre an.”* don't! he exclaimed under his th, “you hurt me,” 40 “Why?” she asked wonderingly, “Don't Ke to be told what I think of you “It is ve Weet, there's no denying that, but I cannot forget how recently I—" He halted, finding it difficult to express that that he believed degarded him. “I know!" she interrupted, a little pene think of me. I, too, dr ally, was dreaming was a moment of The doc- tor could not well have thing, for he knew of Ame love for Starkweather enly hy inferenc nd in his cogitations with characteristic _sternnes he had refus to consider her as affeeted by circumstances in much the same way that he w. “I must tell you about myself,” she said presently. ot ‘too much now,” gravely, “ther in the fatur “I know: that is, I hope so, but just this so that we may understand one an- better. I think, perhaps, that a wo: r to love than a man. I never loved anybody that L can remember. I had affection for my teachers when they were good to me, and I have a s.ncere affection ior Louis few weeks ago I would have said that I loved my uncle.” “Think of him as little as you can,” said the doctor, soothingly. “There 1s no reason he shoutd again play a part in your d he responded, will be many opportunities life. ‘And yet he is my nearest relative! Well, I'd rather not think of him. but, of course, I cannot forget him or what he has done. In a way he was good to me. He never spoke of me as a burden, although I w one. I wanted to earn my own living, b he wouldn't have it. He said he had plenty, though we never lived so much like rich people until we came hefe. I think he must ha succeeded with one of his in- vention: She paused and fell to thinking. “Better talk than think,” suggested the doctor, gently. “Thinking is sometimes bad for convalese: You are progress- ing remarkably well, but if you will think I shall give you a dose of something on the table yonder that will make you close your ey “Oh, don't!” she exclaimed. “That would make me think of my uncle all the more. Let me sleep naturally. Really, I do not feel the least futigue or excitement. I am | just resting, and you— She turned her eyes wistfully upon him. “Do you mean,” ho asked, with palpitat: Met the Professor at the Head of the Stairs. ing heart, me near? She nodded her hes not express her perf tor smiled in return, she went on: “I can see now that I had really led a very lonely life. When Mr. Starkweather told me that he loved me it was like a vision of an impossible heaven! It was a profound surprise, for he had manifested no especia! liking for either of us, and if I had thought of him as in love, I shoull have taken il for granted that It was Louise he favored. Really, no thought of myself would have entered my head; not because {am not selfish—l have shown you that I am_ exceedingly so.” “You misjudge me and yourseif, too, Amelia,” said the doctor, “Did I not tell you that I should have acted as you did, if tot even more determinedly?” “Yes; and I'll not try to think now wheth- er 1 was justitied or not, but I want yon to know the facts. I knew not what to say to Mr. Starkweather, for while I was certain that I did not love him then, it seemed as “that It Is more restful to have a, as if words could; content. The doc- and after a moment | how could I? if my gratitude would speedily grow to love. it was such a booa to find that some one really cared for me, and he must have been sincere, for he knew perfectly well that I had no fortune; that I was a mere depend- ent.” The doctor’s conscience smote him a bit for permitting Amelia to talk so long, and yet her pulse was steady and normal, and it seemed to relleve her. “1 don’t wonder,” he said, “love under such circumstaices would invariably beget love. “I'm not sure that it did,” she responded, gravely. “I hadn't had time to find out when the end came.” “What had you told Mr. S:arkweather?” asked the doctor, after a pause, during which his own thoughts threatened to come to a high state of tension that could not but be injurious to his patient. He began to see a vague suggestion of a possible pur- pose back of Professor Drummoni’s crime. “I told him the facts »s well as I could,” answered Amelia. “I -lid not reject him; He went on ito tell me that his material prospects were of the bright- est. I inferred that he was assoctated with my uncle in perfecting an invention that would make all our fortunes, but I asked him no questions, for to me the one great fact of importance was his love for me. I couldn't understand it.” “Love is the hardest thing :n the world ie understand,” remarked the doctor, wise- ye “I think it is. Starkweather and L. We were to say noth- ing about it for a week, not a word on either side. I wanted time to think and to study, myself. He was perfectly willing, he seenied to be so confident of the result. So we separated, we had been talking on thi ledge hack of the house, and next day: She turned her eyes pitifully upon the doctor. I know,” he sald, “we m: it longer.” t one word more,” pleaded an, perhaps, understand my mgan- ing now when [assured you that Mr. Starkweather, to my own Auowle se, could not have had reason for suicide. H2 beiiev- s business prospects, and he had son for believing tuat he hat wen, soon win,my love. In the first shock after the disappearance I anew not what I felt. I knew that I resented the fate that had robbed me of the one being who had ever manifested any especial liking for me. As I suffered I grew to feel that my iove n't tal about Amelia. He Peered Cautiously Around the Door Jamb. had already been awakened, and when I ricd to comprehend his taking oft, I was so frerzied that I could think of nothing but revenge. I suppose it was that.” Amelia spoke with perfect calmness, not only to the surprise but admiration of the doctor. He couldn't have viewed the cir- cumstances more coolly himself. “If it had oveen possible for me,” con- tinued Amelia, musingly, “to go to any- bedy for symr it might been bez- differently, but ore. There was little g between me and Lou! r could have told her such a secret. he would e—but nev mind. Louise is not hearth She simply looks at things differen des, I was called on to comfort her, alarmed. How ked about her. Louise is well enough for aught I know said the dector. “I see little of the house- old. My attention has been taken wholly by you.” Amelia smiled gratefully. “It doesn’t seem so strange to be lovad now,” she said, after a moment, “and, you krow, I feel as if somehow that other feel- ing, terribly ag it was broken upon, served a purpose in preparing me for this. ‘Is that an unworthy thought?” “No, my dear girl," responded the doc profoundly moved. at the start she was much selfish of me or, theught than any I peor he d. It may be the explanation of though how I could ever have aybody bat you, I ec: doctor w sense of adoration, called her back to healt Sudderly a thought of his mother occurred to the doctor. Had she heen present during this intimate conversation? He turned his ad. She was not in the room. M Williams had stolen out silently as soon the patient began to speak. She met the professor at the head of the stai “Mrs. Williams,” he said, anxiously, “my daughter would not come down to lunch- eon, and refuses ‘to open the door to re- ceive erything. I'm afraid she’s fll. I hate to disturb the doctor. Would you mind seeing whether you can’t bring her to her sen: I will speak to her at once,” replied Mrs. William: She went to Loulse’s room, and, after a few words, the door was ovened. She en- tered and remained with the unhappy girl for more than an hour. While she was gone Mrs. Appleton knocked at Amelia's door. ‘The patient was then asleep. ‘Somebody to s Appleton. ‘He s: urgen “Send my mother in, turned the doctor. They went down the corridor together to the stair: The doctor descended, while Mrs. Appleton went on to Louise’s room. ms found a man at the door whose wife was ill. She was a patient of the doc- ter’s, and, like others, had been somewhat neglected recently. The doctor heard the man’s story, wrote a prescription, promised to call during the afternoon or evening, and hastened back up the stairs. As he turned into the upper corridor he saw Betsey glid- ing into Amelia's room. She left the door open. Greatly startled, for any Fairview was suspicious, forward rapidly, but on tip lainy were afoot, he not only wanted to pre- vent it, but to arrive in time to see unmis- takably what was intended. As he came near the door he couid see the alcove. Bet- sey Was not near the bed. What, then, was she up to? He peered cautiously around the door jamb. The woman was at the center table, with her back to him. Three bottle of medicine were there. She took them up one after another, and seemed to be regarding them attentively. Presently sh> selected one, glided with it noiselessly to the window, and poured its contents out. The doctor drew back she turned around. He heard her at the table again, and again he looked in, more than half ting to see her refilling the bottle with something she had brought with her, but no; after a momentary hesitation she took the other two bottles, carried them to the win- dow, and their contents, too, fell into the Miniskt. (To be continued tomorrow.) ae House-Moving Feat. From the San Franciseo Call. A remarkable feat has just been accom- plished in moving a house from Arcata, Cal., across the bay to Eureka. The house was moved to the marsh land near Arcata by the usual process of house-moving. Then a temporary siaging and wharf were built. Over this the house was slowly transported to the water's edge, where two rock barges, lashel tegether, were in wait- ing to receive the structure. It was, after considerable labor, placed upon the barges, and then a tugbout tock them in tow, and in a few hours had covered a distance of seven miles and landed at the foot of J street, ii Eureka. So well was the contract carried cut that the cnly damage noted was a slight breaking ef the plaster. The house is a fine two-story cne, and is elaborately finished. #200 for a Copper Cent. From the Philadelphia Record. Fred. T. McDonald, a druggist of Kennett Square, has just sold an old copper coin for $200. The coin is very rare. It is of the date of 1783, and on one side has the bust of Washington and the words “Washing- ton and Liberty,” and on the other, “One cent.” He took the coin in trade at his store for its face value, one cent. peacefully oring sleep. happening In the doctor went ‘oe. If any vil- We left it this way, Mr. | THE sW BY AND BY. Its Author Telis'an Interesting Story of Its Composition. From the Louisville (Ky.) Post. In Richmond, a Ittlg town of less than 1,000 inhabitants, almost on the southerm boundary line of IMjngis, lives the author of “In the Sweet By and By.” He is a practicing physician @nd is under sixty years of age. The, djmortal hymn was written when he was ‘enly thirty-one, and is the single song of his life. During the civil wai a wave of moral elevation and intellectual activity passed over the country. IA tis grand awakeniag of the conscience there was a flood of music—martial, religio’s, domestic. George F. Root and Stephen J. Foster were both writing songs that lived, and Sunday school hymns passed out of the driveling period into one of elevated simplicity. Just at this time Samuél Fillmore Ben- nett was graduated from Ann Arbor, Mich., and began a newspaper career at Elkhorn, Wis., on The Independent. J. P. Webster, the musical composer, was living in the same town, and it was only a few months before the editor and the musician were collaberating. The war intervened, and Lieut. Bennett of the fortteth Wisconsin velunteers returned to Elkhorn to open a drug store and resume his verse writing. He and Mr. Webster began in 1867 to work on a Sunday schcol song book, called “The Signet Ring,” which was afterward published. This period of his life is the most prec- ious of all his experiences to Dr. Bennett. Not long ago he told the whole story to an interested group of listeners, ‘is eyes fill- ing with tears as he vindicated his friend from calumnies. “Currency has beer given to the shame- ful story that Mr.Webster was drunk when he wrote the mus’ and another account has it that we were both drunk. I am thankful to do justice to one of the noble: men that ever Hved—a fine, sensitive ‘soul, with the true artistic feeling. Again, it has been said that we were woth infidels, and the song the ribald jest of a caro As to my religion, that is my own affai but the hope and longirg of every immor- tal soul as expressed in that song was the faith of both of us. To both creation would have seemed a farce if infinite love and im- mortality had not overshadowed us and promised a life,of bliss beyond the grav. “Mr. Webster, Ike many mus of an exceedingly nervous and nature and subject to fits of depre: krew his peculiarities well, and : found him given up to blue devils I just fave him a cheerful song to work on, One morning he came into the store ind walked to the stove without speakin ““What's up now, Webster? I asked. ‘sno matter. It will be all right by “The idea of the hymn came to me like a flash of sunshine. ‘The Sweet By and By.” Everything will be all right then. ‘Why wouldn't that make a good hymn? ““‘Maybe it would,’ he replied, gloomil Turning to the desk, I wrote as rapidly I could. In less than half an hour, [ think, the song it stands today was ywiitten. Here it ‘There's a land that fs fairer than day, And by fait an see It ata i er the w In the sweet by-and-by, We shall meet on that beautiful shore— In the wi-by, We shall meet on that beautiful shore. We 1 1 shore Th And our s Not a sigh for th Chorus. ‘To our Bount!fal Father above We will offer the tlhete of praise, For the glorious gift of His love And the blessings Uyat hallow our days. Chores. qt n the meantime two friends, N. H. Carswell and S. EB. Bright, had come in. T hai 1 the ver taMr. Webster, a remulous with emotion, As he r S kindled. Stepping to the desk, he be- gen to jot down the hotes. He picked up -d them. In ten minutes inging that song. n, and with tears s ‘Gentlemen, that hymn We wete all excited, elated. is immortal.’ Within two weeks the children of the town were singing it on the streets. “The was pub- stare The to adver Sweet B § ong nearly a quorter of of the hook wore Hold. afterward brought out in sheet mus iT ft has been translated into a number of ion cop- song W one m The 5 sby and Carswell are all . Bright of Port Atkinson, Wis., are the only living witnesses to in of th and my the © ery Gallon Fil- Delivery. It ix From Chambers’ Journal, The whole of Greater London, covering an area cf abceut 630 miles, is supplied by three organizations, whose powers and dl re defined by law. ‘The six Thames nies are allowed to draw a maximum, supply of 120,000,000 gallons a day; the East Lendop is allowed to take 33,000,000 gallons, and the New River 22,500,000 gallons a da from the Lea; the rest comes from the chalk wells; there is-also, however, a su plementary supply drawn by several com- penies from the gravel beds by the side of the Thames, and in times of flood or drought this ratural supply is very useful. = Ip March lst year 180,000,000 gallons of filtered water were required every day for the supply of Londcn, which gave an aver- age of xtout thirty-three gallons to each person in the area of supply, for drinking, domestic and trade purposes. The pumping operations represent an enormous expenditure of force. The South- wark Company, for instance, pumps 12,000,- 600 gallons every day a disiance of eighteen miles to Nunhead, with a rise of 215 feet, for distribution thence to the other parts of the district. The pipes, too, are often enormous in size, some of the tunnels be- ing nine feet in diameter. As for the length, there are jin all London 5,000,000 miles of water pipes, on which there are some hydrants, It is hard to gain from mere figures an adequate conception of the extent of London’s water supply, but the cnormous stream of water flows steadily into the houses—over 800,000 of them—day after day, carefully filtered and purified, and the system contrasts curiously with the old New River water carts and Chelsea’s wooden pipes. -_- cee COLD CHURCHE A Fertile Cause of Bad Colds and Other Troubles, From the Popular Health Magazine. Cold churches are often the cause of se- rious colds and catarrhs. While this fact should not keep persons from church, it ought to teach the sextons how to heat a large building properly. In the coldest weather, and especially when it is damp, the stone or brick walls of a large building become thoroughly chiNed, and it takes the heat a long time ti ‘penetrate the whole building and counteragt this chill. Usually the fire fof Sunday is begun late Friday night, or pettaps not until Satur- day, and while the fypnaces or heating ap- paratus may give forth an abundance of heat, still the warm gir, has not been in the building long enough to permeate every corner and take off tha/chill, and it is often | noticeable that while’ the church seems to be warm, judging by the thermometer, there is a cold feeling in the air. If fires in such TAtge buildings were started early in the week, and kept up at a moderate rate for four or five days, very little fire on Sunday would keep the build- ing at a pleasant habitable temperature. A small fire for four or. five days heats bet- ter and with just as. little expense as a roaring blaze Kindled/on Saturday. Church committees often fing fault with the heat- ing apparatus on a cold day, when the manner and time of building the fires are at fault. Then, too, a gradual heating of such a building allows of better ventilation than the sudden warming up the day be- fore the building is used. - ewe Thankfulness. From the Lewiston (Me.) Journal. You will have to travel far and search diligently to find a better Thanksgiving sen- timent than that of an old Franklin county patriarch, now long since passed to his re- ward. His annuat—aye, and his daily— prayer was: “O Lord, we thank Thee that it is as well with us as it is. STIMULATES DIGESTION. Horsford’x Acid Phosphate. is durectly on the fool, thus assisting the aad alo stimulates the secretion of ie digestive flutds. putting the stomich in an healthy condition, ENGRAVING AND PRINTING. Methods in the Office of the Japanese Government. From the Chicago Record. All the government engraving, litho- graphing and printing, including the man- ufacture of bank bills ard postage and revenue stamps, in Japan ts done at an In- stitution known by the simple and express- ive name of Insetsukioku. It occupies a fine building of French architecture, re- cently erected, and equipped with all the improvements and conveniences of a well- ordered printing office, but its capacity is in- sufficient, and the increasmg business has caused -n overflow into a number of an- cient and ill-arranged structures that have long occupied the densely shaded grounds that were once the abode of a prince. The employes all wear uriforms of white cotton while at work, which are changed for their ordinary street dress when they leave the building. Many, perhaps two-thirds of them, are women and girls, who look very neat and crderly in their scanty raiment, for it is but a single garment, without but- tons, and only neld together by a girdle around the waist, and eloses a_consid- erable portion of their person which in other counrtrics it is considered modest to conceal. But their unconscious innocence feels no sheme. Upon the left arm of each employe is a series of short stripes of red, which indicate rank and length of service. Some of them have four, five and six stripes, showing that they are veterans. The foremen or forewomen of the divisions have another distinctive badge. The machinery is mostly of French and German manufacture. Much of it was made in Japan vpon stolen patents, for the gov- ernment has only to buy one press or piece of apparatus. The ingenious machinists of the country will produce as many copies as are needed withcut compunction or lack of Skill, athough Japanese imitations are not always as durable as the models. T could cnly find one machine from the U ed States, and that was a big trimming knife in the bindery. The secretary and assistant superintendent, who s| dus around, told us there no objection to American machinery. They agreed that the best presses in the world were made in the United States, but the institution was zed and equipped by Europeans un- tract, and they naturally preferred what they were familiar with. The government makes its own inks, type and other supplies, and has a mill the suburbs of Tokio, at which every grade from the finest bond to ordinary printing paper is manufactured. The Japanese, as we all know, make the best papers in t world. There are machine shops connected with the Irsetsukioku, at which all rep: are made, and conventional machinery, and nothing is bought abroad except an occa- sional press or seme recent improvement, which, as I have said, is immediately imi- tated The natives and have the make excellent highest eng degree of ar of their work yed in an exhibition room anything T have ever seen in France or Germany. But their wages are absurdly Icw. The highest salary paid among the engravers and artists is equiva- lent to orly $45 a month in our money, and this commands the!r entire time and talent The superintendent of the institution, who ranks next to a member of the cabinet, gets about the same pay as the messen- gers in the government printing oflice at Washingt». The lowest wages paid among «0 employes is 5 sen, or 2 1-2 cents a to the ‘young girls who carry the printed sheets from the presses to the dry- The av our mo --from 7 in the half an hour ning till 6 at night,with at noon for luncheon. soe WITH A NEW A Successful Experiment of-Grafting na Case of Burns. From the San Francisco Exsmi mor SKIN Miss J ie Proudfoot of San Rafael should be proud of her relatives. They are worthy of any young girl's most ardent affection. Within the past two months seven of them have pmitted to the surgeon's knife for her sake. From their healthy bodies they have allowed strips of cuticl¢e to be cut to suppiy the needs of her emaciated frame, and, as a result, the sufferer, seemingly doomed to be a cripple for life, will soon be up and about, pod monument to the devi fice of her nearest of kin. In the e: vart of last summer Mi: Proudfoot owly, aped death in the flames. Where the fire touched the bods the s a in large flakes in . led raw, intlamed flesh eal up of its own ac- ich would be a ve the doctors unanimously a would so contract that one of the would be much shorter th des this there was th n continuously. ie At this juncture Dr. W. to try the virtues of grafti a graft of about an in Jones resol lle seemed to be growing well, and hig were en ained. Th time, however, when that it would not ar it was demonsirated wer the purpose, The doctors so informed the parents of the suffer ing girl. The latter immediately offered themselves to the knife to save their daugh- as soon as the matter became known of the immediate family and aext relatives there Was not one who did the sacrifice, and make it willin: to benefit the pretty little t ear. girl they loved so well. From the bodies of the seven persons who offered themsrives for the purpose the sur- geons have stripped pieces of skin varying from a half to gn inch and a half in width and from four to five inche: eth. The: living strips, tingling with nerves, were placed on the tender fiesh of the sufferer and firmly bound in place with rabber tissue, and y instance the grafts have been’ suc- All the port s Proudfooi’s ly touched by the flames have been coy- ered over with the skin of her relatives ex- cept one patch on the right hip. This will be attended to some time early in December, and Dr. Jones stated last night that, judging from the progress made in the other grafts. it will not be long before Miss Proudfoot is as well and as free-limbed as evr. Aside from illustration of the self-sacrifice related to the young lady, the case Proudfoot will excite considerable nin the medical world. It is one of. grafting has ever bee of burns. Then, the area to be cov- ered, not less than 175 square inches, and the length of time after the injuries were received, will act as factors in a case which will cause any amount of learned comment. Taken all around, it is a wonderful case, s wonderful as any in the progress of ing art within the past decade. mpted in the ca: o —--e@e A WAY TO GET EVEN. The Plan Did Not Meet the Approval of the Complainant. From the Chi Pr “Vd do anythin hotel,” to g@t even with that n loaf- aid the man who had be j ing around the reading room. What's the matter?” who had just registered. That smart, diamond-studded clerk has ordered me to keep away from the house. He says I have been hanging around here for the last three weeks using the station- ery and occupying the most comfortable chair: “Well, have you?” “Sure. What's his old house for if it is not for the use of peovle who haven't any- where else to go? But you can bet I'll get even with him.” Low? don't know just yet, but I'll find a asked the guest way Would you like a suggestion? “That's what I would. Do you know a yes, if you've the nerve to try It.” yh, I have nerve to throw to the birds. Let's have your scheme.” “Well, you know how a good hotel hates to get mixed up in a police case in the news- papers?” “Yes. “This house is particularly proud of its record in avoiding everything of that sort, too. 'I_know it.” “Then, all you have to do is to get some sensational case located here and you are revenged.” “Of course, But how?” “Engage a room, go up to It and com- mit suicide. It’s a very simple matter, you see. I'll loan you the money for the room if you are broke.” But the man with the grievance depart- ed without even expressing his thanks for the kind offer, @869 0890598 POSOSSOGG0@ oe vice, and reliable information, business of advertising. formation about every way of tisements that will sell goods; cember 31st, 1895. 10 Spruce deS-th,s&te,6t Printers Ink Helps... Advertisers! It’s a weekly journal, furnishing you with practical ad- Enables you to profit by the experiences--and adopt the methods—of successful advertisers, as it gives complete in- found to be feasible and profitable. Jnstructs you—and exemplifies —how to write adver- contains can be used to accomplish the same object. Contains timely hints about mediums, tending to aid you in selecting profitable ones to advertise in. Subscription price NOW, $2 a year; it will be $5 a vear after De Street, New York. about every detail of the advertising which they have or the “Ready-Made Ads.” it Sample copy free. STORY OF A LOTTERY PRIZE. A Winning pf 375,000 That Has Been in Litigation for Twelve Years. From the Kansas City Journal. On December 9, at the court house door in Lexington, Mo., United States Marshal Joe Shelby will seli, under execution issued from zhe United States circuit court here, acres of fine farm land located near Odessa, in ‘Lafayette county. The sale | will close a hard-fought and historic cuse. It is the old lottery claim of Louis Cohn against Alvin Kenslér, partners in the purchase of a lottery ticket that proved a winner and drew the capital prize. $75,009, in the famous old Louisiana State Lottery in its palmy days, The cash has been productive of everything but com- fort to all interested’ parties since it was paid out by the lottery company, a @ozen years ago. During the fall of 188% Louis Cohn and Alvin Kensler were the best of friends. Both lived here in Kansas City, and for a long time had been partners in the pur- chase of lotiery tickets, and had jointly in- vested $5 each month in search of a for- tune. One day during that fall Kensler was given $250 by Cohn to, make the ac- customed purchase. Later in the da Cohn asked for the money, saying he was called out of the city and would need it. He asked Kensler to advance the amount and he would be. the partner, and this reement, so he says, was fully under- stocd. His visit was prolonged until after the drawing, and then Kensler learned to his astonishment that he held the ticket that called for the capital prize, and was entitled to $75,000. Just about ‘that time Cohn came back, and tendered him the 82.50 for his half in the th but Kensler answered him nay. ‘Then there was a row. In the due course’ of time Kensler de- posited bis ticket with the cxpress com- pany, and it was paid and the cash was | turned over to him. Cohn at once began | suit for his half of the sum, Major William Warne while Kensler Vest to defend case was filed in the federal court in Kan- sas City Decemoer 16, iSSt, and asked for | cne-half of the amount. | The e Was in the court for three yea nd on Novem- ber 1, ISS7, the verdict was rendered for the plaintiff for the sum asked for, with 1 to date. But Kensler did not stop fighting at the | close of the litigation, He invested a large portion of the cash in a farm of 532 acres down near Odessa and married, so that his wife would be able to have a claim in the properi A baby was born, and another lesal complication was precipitated. The and employed his attorney, ator George | nis cash. The] or defeat settlement. Finally Mrs. Kensler died, and some years later the is died, safd to have se and gone to where he has aceumu- and abandoned lottery and Kensler abandcned the coast, lated some prop enterprise: ‘The attorneys for Cohn watched the legal compheations, and at the proper time the | Judgment was assigned to Isaac W. Avitt, | and in his mame was revived and is now in ferce. The matter was at once put into motion, and an execution w: ued and the property seized and si vertised. The advertisement has been satisfied, and | cn December 9 the sale of the lands will take place at Lexington. ——_—_-e+ THE CHAFING Laby It Seems to Have a Lot of Uses in These Later Da From Harper's Bazar. There is something attaching to the chaf- ing dish that belongs to no other household utensil. Every other implement of cookery or cleanliness has its disagreeable side; the chafing dish has nothing but charm. In the first place, its economy is a delight. It appears at first sight to be an article of luxury, and has been so esteemed in the rast; for it is associated in the minds of the last generation with venison steaks and terrapins and mushrooms and port wine uces, and the dishes that epicures then de- clared fit for the gods. But now we know it for what it is—the household brownie, doing @ good turn at every hand. Far from being an accompaniment of extravagance, it is one of the best economizers that ever entered a family; for with a chafing dish | and its lamp there need not be a scrap of meat, a flake of fish, a crust of bread, sted, and the kitchen. coal bill can in hot ather be reduced to a minimum, and the en tempers, too, while the alcohol lamp costs only a trifle more than half Gezen cents en hour, and is never used Da y, but only for much shorter Moreover, it is a friend that puts the best o and helps one over many a many a frien¢ hip, the healing of many a breach. It does not confess improvidence when the unlooked-for guest arri an empty larder, poor service, an unskilled hand; it takes the bits of cold roasts or steak, the cup of soup that chaneed to be left, the spoonful of tomato that Bridget failed to throw away, or the half dozen as- | paragus tips that escaped the same fate, and turns out an entree that has nothing to do with unpremeditated poverty, but seems rather a premeditated prodigality. And when it has all that is its due on the score of economy, what a friermd of the servants it is, letting cook or kitchen maid take her ease, while it bubbles away on table or sideboard of the dining room, saving them labor and nervous expenditure, as the mistress makes play of their work! And what an amount of pleasure the little vtensil affords! In hovseholds where on Sundays the servants, or most of them, are out, or where it-has been thought best to spare them, how the chafing dish brightens up the Sunday tea! And on week days, when coming in late from concert, or thea- ter, or opera, or an unsatisfying ball ban- quet, or even on a late train, hungry as hunters, what gayety, what merriment and cheer, to sit round the table and see some- thing made out of nothing, or dainties he- come daintier, as the case may be. The rummaging of pantry and refrigerator, the preparation of the dish in which all have a hand, the laughing at Munders, the flattery of success, the delightful repast, and the sound sleep that follows on the work of a healthy stomach, all make a cheery end to a day and heighten the after-effect of the evening’s entertainment. FLOWERS ARE PERFUMED. How nilowers Are Made to Smell Like the Rose. From the New York Worlu. : To artificially perfume flowers is the latest fad in Paris. It has been found possible not only to take away from a flower the odor given to it by nature, but actually make it yield a perfume derived from some other vegetable product. There are, for instance, certain violets with little or no odor, but very beautiful as to form, while there are others that are peor to look upon, but very rich in perfume The transfer of the odor from one species to the other has been successfully perform- edin Paris. Again, the African marigol, which ts a handsome flower, has been robbed of its evil odors and given a perfume that makes it really val.able and delicious. This fad for perfuming flowers has even been pushed to the absurd length of imparting the odor of the rose to the sunflower, while chrysan- thomums have been made to smell like the violet. According to the method pursued the flowers are placed in a box, the interior of whick has been cooled with ice. Leading into this box is a pipe with holes boted in it. Through this pipe a current of carbonic acid gas perfumed with the desired odor is sent. This current is produced by the evap- cration of the liquid carbonic acid, which is passed through a “worm” like that used in distilling whisky. The heated carbonic bubbles up through a mass of the essential cil coptaining the perfume and takes on the Propérties of the odcr, which is then im- parted to the flowers in the box. This Machine is most commonly used in strengthening the natural perfume of cer- tain flowers, like violets and roses. In this way an intense perfume is obtained, which will last for many days. When it is desired to first rob a flower of its natural odor before giving it that of some other flower, it is steeped in bromated water and then washed. In the case of the frican marigold, which was robbed of its smeH, the seeds were first allowed to soak for two days in rose water containing a lit- tle musk. They were then partially dried and sown. The flowers that grew in time were not entirely deprived of their bad odor, but one was able to detect, mingled with the original smell, the agreeable odors of the rose and the musk. The seeds of these plants being again sown after similar treasment, it was found that there was a still further improve- ment. ——_+-e-____ TRAIN HELD UP BY A WOMAN. the Track and the Cars Came to a Stop. From the Pittsburg Dispatch, The Whippany River railroad recently went into the hands of a receiver, and the other day one of its trains was held up in New Jersey by a woman. Mrs, Margaret Conley did the job. ‘The railvcad rurs through her farm. There has been a dispute about the right of w It culminated by Mrs. Conley planting: herself on the track in front of an incoming train. The engineer saw he: Lew his whistle and put on brakes. She stood immoyable, with arms akimbo and head defiantly thrown back. The train stopped within a few feet of her. “Why don’t you get off the track?” shout- ed the engineer, when he recognized who it was. Stood on hy doesn’t your road pay me what it for right of way through my prop- y?” she retorted. Then the proceedings becatae spicy. Fin- ally the engineer pleaded. He was delayed and must go by. Mrs. Conley was as in- flexible as the rock of Gibraltar. ‘There was nothing else to do, and Charles H. Marshall, the fireman, climbed down and gently led Mrs. Conley from the track. She did not resist. She did not do a thing but swear out a warrant charging Marshall with assault and battery, and he is now under bond to answer to the next grand jury. Then the train rolled on. -eoe. A CAMPFIRE YARN. _ After Thirty Yenrs a Southern Soldier Finds a Missing Member. Ficm the Atlanta Constitution. At the tattle of Chickamauga, in Septem- Ler, 1863, John Sammens, a soldier in the confederate army, was loading his rifle be- hind a big cak tree, when a bullet hit his gunstock and carried away two joints «f the foretinger «f his right hand. The dis- membered part dropped to the ground, and Sammons made Lis way to the rear, stanchirg the wound as best he could. Then, when the war closed, he returned home and went to work, charging up his maimed hand to the losses of the confed- Sty-two years passed, and he paid a visit to the famous field, which the gov ernment has turned into.a great national park. Thé tree behind which he had fought large ar 1 conspicuous, and he had lit- tle difficulty in finding it. Almost instinet- ively he put himself into the position he had occupied during the battle, and sud- derly it occurred’ to him to look for his finger. He stooped, turned over the leaves, and sure enouzh there were the bones. They had lain there undisturbed ever since the fight. With a strange feeling, he picke them up, satisfied himself of their identit wrapped them in his handkerchief and c ried them home, where he shows them as a war relic. Yealth of African Millionaires, From the Westmiuster 5 Some statistics have just been published concerning the wealth of South African millionaires. Messrs. Rhodes, Alfred Bent, J. B. Robinson, F. A. English, Piet Marais, and B. J. Barnato are said to be worth £34 000,008 among them. The several amounts Ps £12,000,000; Mr. Barnato, £10,- William Stcne, formerly a member of the Dalton gang, under sentence of ten years at Fort Wayne, Ind., for shooting Deputy Sheriff Harold, has confessed to committing murders in Chicago, Cleveland, Kansas City and several other pla His story is one of lifelong murder, burglary, train and stage robbing and is a startling confession.