Evening Star Newspaper, March 21, 1896, Page 17

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 21, 1896-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES.: (Copyright, 1896, by Bacheller, Johnson & Bacheller.) PART I. It was the title that for some fifteen years Ird been tacked to the namo of Percy Marfleet, whenever he was mentlon- €d in the local newspapers. Not undeserv- ed'ty, for in his knowledge of books he much surpassed the leading men of the tewn, and his life was entirely devoted to study. Miss Cloud, the borough member's daughter, who had btgen at Girton, herself the marvel of womanhooé in this not alto- gether benighted region, spoke of Mr. Marfleet with respect; indeed, for the last twelvemonth or so ft had been generally surmised that the friendship between these distinguished persons would end in closer alliance—a mos: interesting and delightfu! prospect. The lady had entered upon her twenty-seventh year; Marfleet drew toward | forty, but preserved the complexion and the cariage of youth. For him, such a union would in every way be advantageous, as, from his way of liying, he evidently pos- sessed but a modest competence, while Miss Cioud shone as the sole heiress of her father’s fortune For a man of parts and ambition, raised above the necessity of exerting him- self to-earn 4 livelihood, it is dangerous. after academic success, to return to native corntry town and settle there with the purpose of productive study. As a Tule. men have no such temptation. Percy Marfleet, whose bent of mind was all to- ward homeliness, and who shrank from the tumuit of the great world, even while crediting himself with power to win dis- tinction, decided after a very brief trial of London that he couid not do better than go back to the scenes of his youth, where kindly notice would inspire him, where. his health would be at its best, and where a modest income would, he imagin- ed, assure a much better status than among strangers. His family had a good name in the town; since the death of his parents and the marriage of his sister, upon him alone lay the duty of keeping the name in honorable prominence. Moreover, he owned the Ecuse in which he had been bern, where the days of his boyhood had been passed. With infinite contentment he read the newspaper paragraph which made known that “Mr. Percy Marfleet, the son of our late honored townsman, having complete? a distinguished career at the University of Cambridge,” had returned to the town, and intended to make it his per- Manent abode. From his earliest school prize to the final honors at Cambridge, each step of Percy's | Progress had been chronicled by the local paper. No special brilliance appeared in the successive achievements; he had done well, nothing more; but local pride made Iauch of his academic record. He was un- derstood to be great in “history;” to his- toric study his life would be dedicated; if he ran up to London or to Cambridge, the newspaper anncunced that he was gone for the purpese of “consulting original docu- | ments.” At first he declined to take any | Part in the affairs of the town, for which | e had absolutely no leisure; but little by little certain honors were thrust upon him, and the satisfaction of making little speeches, carefully prepared and no less carefully reported, lured his m‘nd from ex- clusive occupation with the past. At lengtk he could be depended upon for an annual lecture at the literary society, for an address here and there, for thes active | patronage of an enlightened movement, | mnected with politics. From strictly municipal business he succeeded in holding aloof, his true rea beng fear of ex- . but this prudence, notwithstanding esteem he enjoyed, necessarily cost him something in coin of the realm, and such demands cpon his pocket grew heav- ier and more frequent with the progress of time. The day ame when Percy had se- jer his financial position. te way out of the diffi- ing so comfortable in his a complete change could “diy be thought of, he insensibly drifted | Into carelessuess of the future. And so it came about that. in his thirty-eighth year, having long lived upon cap‘tal, with steady vth of expenditure from Christmas to | tmas, he saw before him an inevitable | crisis. Tncome he no longer possessed: merely z sum of money which, even with parsimonious management, could last him | only a short t'me, and at the present rate of living would dissolve with awful rapid- ity. In the way of literary produet‘on he had one nothing. Years ago he made no se- Nowadays He Only Read. ¢ret of his undertaking; the work of his life was to be a continuation of Macaulay; latterly he very seldom spoke on this sub- Ject, or even distantly alluded to it. Since his ‘thirtieth year scarcely a jotting had been added to the notes and rough sketches previously accumulated. Nowadays he only read, and for the most part his read- ing had no connection with historic re- search. A large library, collected at no smali outlay, gathered dust upon the ghelves. Expensive publications still reached him, simply because he lacked the courage to discontinue his subscriptions, and so to confess that his one object in life had melted away, together with his money. He spent the wonted number of hours locked in his study, but more often than not a day - dragged through in sluggish mooning or in the tortures of anxiety. As usual, he pot- tered about the garden; as usual, he paid and received visits, atiended meetings, made little speeches, helped to get up little entertainments of intellectual cast. And no fellow-townsman marked the slightest change in Lim. One hope remained; yet it could hardly be called a hope, rather a troubled imagi- nation of sometriing that might have falil- @n to his lot in happier circumstances. ntil of late no thoughts of marriage had lured or perturbed him; he cared but mod- erately for the society of women, and, like most men of his temper, kept very clearly 4n view the sacrifices and perils attaching to wedlock; his pleasant, roomy house, always quiet and fragrant under the rule 0® an excellent domestic, would undergo such changes if a mistress entered into possession. For all that, there was one woman who often occupled his thoughts, and in some degree had power over his emotions; in part because of her social rank, partly because of her education and, last but not least, by virtue of her personal charm. Certainly he liked Eveline Cloud; he was flattered by the deference she paid “I am delighted,” w: tion. im, and felt something very attractive in e modesty with which she spoke of her own attainments. By slow degrees their intimacy had grown and ripened. At first he was slightly afraid of her; the smile ever lurking’ about her lips ‘seemed to threaten criticism of an unfamillar keen- ok who could say what equipment of views these young ladies brought th them from Girton? Gradually he per- lved that Eveline’s position in the town ‘somewhat like his own—that her pres- her exclama- rested upon vague report rather than | it evider ce of learn‘ng and ability. und. Nor did she make parade of ition; her tastes seemed decidedly sim- ple; if he mistook not, she preferred the companionship of her provincial friends to the society she met when with her father in London. Her interest in local conceriis became more pronounced; she was fervent in orthodoxy, and, as years went on, ac- cepted with decision her place as leading lady in social or charitable organizations, Personally, Miss Cloud. no longer” ever- awed him, for he felt that he understood her. Her behavior to him was of such frank~ friendliness that-ne wonder. their acquaintances observed them with a genial smile. Marfleet sometimes came away from the house brooding. But for hia in- credible folly, which had brought him within sight of disaster ke saw no means of repairing, might he not .reasonably have aspired to a marriage which would at once exalt his position and pro- mote his happiness? What possibility of it now? The secret, of which no one had a suspicion, weighed but the more heavily upon bis own mind. & In conversation one day with Miss Cloud he chanced to speak of some political fr.ci- dent in the reign of Queen Anne, a point which it seemed to him the historians had misunderstood. “Have you reached that in your book?” asked Eveline, with a glance of interest. His eyes dropped; he was uncomfortably aware of that lurking smile about the fresh-colored lips. “In the first rough draft,” he constrain- ed himself to answer. And Eveline’s eyes reassured him, so friendly were they, so devoid. of troublesome curiosity. “Have you never thought, Mr. Marfleet, of publishing some portions of your work in_periodicals—zs some writers do?” Yes, he had thought of it, and very late- ly. To be sure, ro portion of higgwork was written, but might it not be possible to Shape out of his notes a few interesting chapters, which the reviews would print and pay for? Miss Cloud’s happy sugges- tion had 12 strong effect upon him; it re- vived his energies, and for the next few ks he actually er.gaged in literary corm- itions. He wrcete a paper of some length, and dispatched it to the editor of an important monthly. What was more, so sanguine had he become in consequence of this effort, that he revealed the matter to Miss Clond. “I am delighted!” was her exclamation— and she reaily looked it. “When do you think it will appear?” “Oh,” he faltered, “impossible to say. Perhaps—it might not strike the editor as worth much.” “What! the result of years and years of study! That's fmpessible.” And Eve- line added: “I have noticed, Mr, Marfleet, that you seem rather despondent of late.” They were alone on one of the garden terraces, and Eveline’s voice had an inton- ation of peculiar gentlene: A- more ar- dent admirer or less scrupulous man would have used the opportunity; Marfleet merely Brew confused. (it's nothing. I wasn’t aware of its—” “fm afraid you work too hard,” sounded in the soft, kindly accents. “On! dear, no!’ He laughed. fectly well—perfectly.” And, indced, there was little amiss in bis eppearance. He had a pleasant color, a clear eye, the excellent teeth of a healthy man who did not smoke. For years he had Sone to bed at 11 o'clock and risen only at 9; he had never fallen short in exercise, ate heartily, and found plenty of amuse- ment. It would take a long time before mental distress such as he was now suf- fering wrote itself upon his countenance. No one thought it unnatural for Miss Cloud to take an interest in Mr. Marfleet: decidedly he was a personable man, well set up, well featured, and always carefully dressed. Eveline, for her part, could not be called handsome; but for her position, suitors would hardly have singled her from a group of amiable-looking young women. Yet the good blood in ner veins, the kindly, intelligent light of her eyes, and that lurking smile, wrought durable bonds for the heart of any man once thor- oughly subdued to their charm. Not long after this conversation Miss Cloud went with her father to town, where she remained for more than three months. For nearly tke same perlod Percy Mar- fleet lived in uncertainty as to the fate af his historical essay, ard the time passed dreartly eno.gh. When Eveline’s return drew near he resolved to make inauiry of the silent editor, and a speedy reply put an end to his suspense. The editor re- gretted that he could not make use of Mr. Marfleet’s interesting paper, which he now sent back. It was a blow to Marfleet, and after a few days spent in recovering from the dizziness, the poor fell eaee Pp low took a dark “I feel per- PART It. While he still had a little Money left he would go to London, and there, as a literary man at any one’s disposal, face the struggle for existence. No need to make known his intention to the old friends. His departure should be explained as a temporary removal to London fer purposes of study. In a month er so -he could write that circumstances obliged him to stay in town for an indefi- nite pe d; his library should be sent up 4s if for use, but reaily for sale: and the house there would be no difficulty in let- trg for some fifty pounds a year—just enough, if the worst came to the worst, ta save him from destitution. Of course, he must break the habits and the connections of a lifetime; unless he were so fortunate as to establish himself in a decent literary career, of which he had painfully little hope. Tke probability was that he would come to be thankful for hack work at the British museum, such as he himself had cecasionally employed a poor devil to do, ere yet the day of evil dawned on his life The resolve taken, he bore up manfully. All he had to do before actually leaving the town was to go through his papers, destroying and packing, and meanwhile to wear the accustomed face. Not a soul sus- pected him. He even took the chair at the annual meeting of the Literary Society, and made a speech which was considere@ brilliant. Not the faintest hint that he might be obliged to sever his connection with this and other local organizations. Two days later “our learned fellow-town: man” was reported as usual in the borough press, with wonted encomium; and Mar fleet smiled dolefully as he glanced at the enstes column. ie knew the day of Miss Cloud's re- turn; the day before would see his de- parture. To meet her, and answer ques- tions about his historical essay, was a humiliation he could not endure. Doubt- less she had mer:tioned the matter to other people, and this disaster alone would have been all but sufficient to drive him into exile. How foolish to have spoken of his attempt! But it was all one now. On the last day he sat hour after hour in his study, totally unoccupied, his mind a miserable blank: he sat till late at night, and on going to bed had but snatches of unrefreshing sleep. Early next Bere £ when only the hum- bler classes of the townsfolk were about, a cab conveyed him to the station. His serv- ants understood that he would be away for two or three weeks—nothing more. When the moment came for breaking up the establishment, he must rety upon his sister, or her husband, resident a few miles out of town, to transact the necessary business for him. Before mid-day he arriv- ed in London, and went first of all to a hotel where he w: known; but before nightfall he had searched for and settled upon a lodging; modest, as befitted his humble prospects. The address, however, was not such would excite surprise when communicated to his friends. Oddly enough, the next day brought him an access of cheerful, even sanguine, spir- its. Though late in December, the weather was remarkably bright; he walked about the streets with a revival of bodily vigor, and saw his position from quite a changed point of view. After all, was not this sup- posed calamity the very best thing that could have befallen him? Down yonder he was merely rusting, sinking into prema- ture old age; here, “in streaming London's central roar,” his energies woultl rise to the demand upon them. Pooh! as if such a man us he could not make a place for himself in Mterary life! There were—at least two or three old college friends with whom he might renew intimacy—men pret- ty well to the front in various callings, and more likely than not, able to be of use to him. He had done most unwisely in ne. glecting those early acquaintances. Nay— he saw it now—he ought never to have inade his home in that dull little country town, where ignorant flattery and faelie triumphs fostered all the weaknesses of Bis temperament. Heaven be ‘thanked, her intelligent, but certainly not Phe was not yet forty, and nis resources would last till he had got an independent footing. Ho, ho! How many a poor devil ES soaitote aN maeie be glad to exchange positions with mood lasted for about a week; a long time, consid@ring that Marfleet lived alone in lodgings,and permitted his land- lady to supply -him with meals. But he was sustained by the renewal of acquaint- ances with two of those old friends of his, who really seemed quite glad to meet him | again, and asked him to dinner, and talk- ed ac men do whom the world has provid- ed with store of goods. To these men he by no means revealed.the truth, but fell into their complacent tone, ani spoke for the most part as if all were well with him. ‘The second week saw him meditative, and inclined to solitude—which he had so little difficulty in securirg. He now: reproved himself for having struck a fal: note with his genial friends; it would be doubly hard to ask their advice or assistance. The weather, too, had turned to normal wretchedness, and his rooms were cold, dark, depressing. He began to suffer from indigestion, the natural result of his land- |” lady’s meals. Then a billous headache and & severe catarrh simultaneously seized upon him; he could not go out, and just as little could think of inviting any one to ome and see him in his dreary durance. Recovered from these transitory ills, he Saw the solid features of his situation in a gloomier light than ever. It was ‘folly to postpone the decisive step: he must dis- miss his servants, sell his library, let the sear old home as scon as possible. He tried to write the fateful letter, but his hend dropped. There came a’ imoment When, as he sat by the alien fireside, bitter thought: were too much for him, and his eyes filled with despairing tears. Percy Marfleet lived thus for a month. Day by day home-sickness ate into his heart; day by day the great, roaring, fog- choked city crushed his scul and became unutterably hateful. In imagination he vis- ited the beloved house, sat in his Mbrary, walked about his garden, heard the voices of companionable men and women, above all, the voice of Eveline Cloud; took the chair at the library institute, listened to friendly proposals that he should stand for this or that ward at the next munici- pal election. What a Christmas he had passed! Ard how delightful it always was, the Christmas of old times! And so it came to pass that, on a day, he found him- self at the railway station; in ono hand a traveling brg, clasped in the other a ticket for his native town. Why he was golnir back he knew not; enough that he was booked and would see his nome again this very night. He reached it at 9 o'clock. He rang a merry peal at the front door, and, when the dcor pened, had much ado to embrace his honest, smiling housekeeper. “No, nu, Mrs. Robinson; it’s all right. I didn't send netice—had to como unexpect- And how are you, eh? edly. Cold night— His Smiling, Honest Housekeeper. ah, but how good the air taste: Fire in the study, is there? Splendid! Something to eat—hungry—ha, ha, ha Mrs. Robinson felt a strange suspicion. She had ever known her master to ex- ceed becoming limits in the matter of strong drink; but really— And he had such an unaccountable iook; dark eyes; sunken cheeks; utterly unlike himself. At his sup- per, too, he drank a great deal of bott beer; after it he called joyously, for whisky And there he sat until long afce? midnight, singing to himself snatches’ of old songs. The next morning—it was frosty and bright—he went forth, walked through the town, greeted cheerily such friends as he chanced,,tp encounter. As though bent on a country walk, he crossed the bridge and crossed at his usual brisk pace through the suburb of mean Iittle houses; from the high- way beyond he struck into a field path, and by way of a great semi-circle drew toward the point he had in mind, which he might have reached in a quarter of the time by starting on another route. He was going to call upon Miss Cloud. With what pur- pese he did not try to make clear to himself; he meant to see Eveline; that was the Im- mediate necessity of a life which had lost all conscious self-direction. Mr. Cloud's residence, built but a few yéars ago, stood among a young plantation, and at this time of the year had a chilly aspect. As he walked up the shrub-bordered drive, Marflect felt a misgiving, and when his hand was on the bell he asked himself abruptly why he had come; but the speedy cpening of the door gave him no time to arswer the question. Miss Cloud, as he knew, was at present iiving alone, unless there happened to be some female relative in the house, for her father had gone to London again after the parliamentary re- cess. As a matter of course, he was straightway led to the drawing room, and in a moment Eveline joined him. “How delightful, Mr. Marfleet! I was just wishing I could see you, but had no idea you were back again. Will you come into the library? There's a bit of crabbed old law Latin I can’t understand at all——” For some time Eveline had been making a study of the antiquities of the town, and in her last conversation with Marfleet she had laughingly suggested that they should collaborate on a local history. By good luck (he trembled with apprehension) the man of learning was able to solve this pres- ent difficulty, and the feat exhilarated him; his countenance became that of one who had not a care in the world. “You have been a long time in London,” said Eveline, with one of her shy glances. Alone with Marfleet, she always looked “You have been a long time in Lon- don,” said Eveline. rather shy, however spirited her talk. “Yes—a month or so. And I think I must go back again -In fact, Miss Cloud, I have all but made up my mind to live there altogether.” The announcement startled her sc much that she looked at him in silence—looked at him for a moment fixedly. Marfieet was swaying on his feet and twisting his hands together behind him; he talked on with rervous rapidity and vigor. “The truth is, I’m not gétting on so well with my work as I ought to be. For a long time—it’s a shameful confession—I have been shockingly idle. Do you think our cMmate is just a trifle relaxing? I’m afraid I must take a decided step; really, I'm afraid I must. After all, London ts the place for work; don’t you think so? In the country one has so many femptations to irdolerce. I mean—” He grew confused and began to swallow his words. “I can quite understand,” said Eveline, in a low voice, as she stood before him with head: bent, “that you feel the need of—of trore intellectual society. You must find us very dull.” oo, ro, no!” he exclaimed, in agitation. “I meant nothing of the kind. The society is delightful. I was thinking of the—the Hibraries and that kind of thing—the gen- eral atmosphere of— “J quite understand.” Eveline was eager to justify him. “For a serious student the advantages of London are very great. Of course, I am very sorry, but—” A. crisis of nervous torture drove the man to plain speech. you could suspect. You remember aper I wrote—for the review? It was rejected.” - - The word seemed echo from every surface of tho room. Eveline stood mo- Uanless, and durst ‘rot glise her eyes, pas @oua, the matter is more serious “You can imagine te “that affected me,” he rushed on, with cheeks. “It made me aware of my able folly. Miss Cloud, you say that I of your town dull. me, how. gladly I w live here for tho rest of my days! Thi®is my heme; I love it. Lendon will alwayS.be a miscrable ex- fle. If you knew how Ifelt last night on coming back! If I could but stay here, and lead the same quiet py life—* is “votce grow tl and he ‘had to pause, Eveline lookeg at him with gentle surptise and her bre: Ame quick as she spoke: “You feel it a dui ifte*. it feel the society aif you will belleve fo use your great “I will tell you the ‘whole wretched truth. I cannot stay here. I have been living like @ simpleton—spending twice my Income. I must go to London to earn a living. There, now, that is what I came this morning to Mell you.” . And ho laughed, as If it were an excel- lent jeke. ” SF SA OMS “Mr. Marfleet—’ Even on those lips his name had never sounded so pleasantly. He gazed at her and waited. “Don't you think,” she proceeded, with aiffidence, yet with courage, “that it's a great pity for towns like ours to lose all their most capable men? Wouldn't it be auch better if—such*a man as yourself wero to stay and use his talents in the service of the place he loves and.the people he cares for? We are so much in want of a higher type of mind—” “Ah, if it were possible! I regret bitterly that I did not enter into the life of the town In earnest, years and years ago.” Hveline’s smile came from its lurking place, and made sunny all her sweet coun- tenance. ‘ “You would have been mayor by now. And think how much Detter for all of us!” “I would give years of my life,” exclaim- od Martfieet, “if that could be!” “Ts st really Impossible?” Their eyes met. Eveline, sister to the rose, trembled as if on the verge of happy iaughter. Marfleet, his face radiant, yet ashamed, tried vainly to. speak. “Who knows of your difficulties?’ she asked softly. - “Not a soul but you.” She did not laugh, but again seemed scarce able to help it. Marfleet’s hand stole forth, and was mct half way. “We will write the history of our town!” broke joyfully from his lips. (The end.) —— MUD HOUSES IN THE SOUTHWEST, The Making and Baking of the Adobe Brick Used in Building. — ~ From the Chicago Record. Architectural engineering is a branch of the gentle art of making mud ples in the land where the adobe houses grow. In the land of sunshine, where a rainy day is so rare that it is marked with a red cross, the native contractor and builder wastes no time figuring on the strength of the ma- terial, the crushing’ limit of tubular col- uinns and the wind pressure per square foot of elevation. He does not pore over blue prints of plans, cross sections and ele- vations, nor does he whittle down his fig- ures to the finest point so as to come un- der some other contractor's bid. He s'mply rol!s his trousers up above his knees, digs down in a favored ditch or pond until he strikes the ’dobe mud, and in a short time he is ready to begin construc- tive operations. Adobe houses are brick houses, but the trick is sun-dried and is made with straw. The clay or mud of. which the brick is made fs a natural cement, peculiar to the arid plains of New Mexico, Arizona, vada, and that belt of states and ‘terri- tories. In summer an adabe house is cool; in winter ft is warm. Its thick walls absorb Z the occasional rain, and although the eun- dried brick ts soft compared to the kiln- dried article, it does not crumble and it stands fur ages. A man who recently ’.traveled through New, Mexico was «much interested in the ‘dobe hous For weeks he itquired and searched for house in the hands of the bull 2 At length, in Suift F6,"he stumbled upon a couple of men stamping with their bare feet upon clay in a wgpien frame. He in- qui and found that’ he was looking upon two Mexjcans making adebe brick, In describing the process “Ne said: “The men aay up the ’dobe mud from the bottom of t editch which skirted the road. They mixed it, or, as we say, ‘tempered’ it, with water, ‘until it was of a stiff cla! istency. Then they chop- into short pieces and mixed ped alfalfa hay it with the clay, and their material was ready to make into brick. “A wooden frame lay on the gro ind. This frame was filled with the 'dobe mud mixed with hay, and one of the men got into the frame and stamped the mud down with his bare feet, at the same time tamp- ing it with a stick. “After the frame was packed hard he scraped the surplus mud off with a stick so that the top surface was level with the up- per edges of the frame, and then lifting the frame from the clay, he carried the brick to one side of the road and stood it on its e e. “The next brick he made he leaned against the first one, and soon he had a dezen large bricks—each twice as wide, long and thick as an ordinary brick—drying in the sun. One of the men told me that the bricks would be ready to lay in three or four days, and that they use the mud of which the bricks are made for the plaster. “The walls of an adobe house are very thick, sometimes two or three feet, end in the ordinary one-story adobe house which is characteristic of that region, they are built up perfectly plain until they reach the roof. “The roof is supported on wooden beams laid edgewise on the walls, and the bricks are built up level withthe top of the beams between the timbers, leaving the edge of the rafters exposed. “The roof has a slight slant, and is made of adobe bricks. When it rains the water soaks into the roof bricks, but does not be- gin to drip down into the rooms below un- til the rain is over. Then the family moves out until the water is through with its drippin; “I sa‘s an adobe house in Santa Fe which was built in the sixteenth century, and, so far as I could see, the walls were as strong and good as any house around there. “Walls are built of stone, plastered with adobe coment, if I may so call it, and such walls are strong and solid. I suppose if that country had half as much rain as falls in Chicago, the ‘dobe houses would, after a time, crumble away, but the average year in New Mexico is made up of 187 days of unclouded sky, 139 days when sunshine predominates, and only 39 days of cloud, so that rainfall docs not amount to much more than a gnod-sized fall of dew.” It is estimated that an adobe house costs about $100 a room, but there are mansions built of this material which cost not less than $50,000 to construct. When the “‘Amer- icans” settled in New. Mexico, Utah, Ai zona, Nevada, and the lower part of Cali- fornia, they acceptegh the treeless condition of the country and built their houses of *dobe mud. : Conduit Trolley'a Success. From the Philadelphia ‘Becofd. The recent heavy,,snow storm in .New York affcrded an excellent opportunity for judging the value, ufider such weather con. ditions, of the condfit frolley road. This was the first severe fest, which the conduit had, and electricians-have expressed them- selves as satisfied with it. One plow kept the track clear, a: Pil of eight: inches of snow did not interfére with traffic. It is said that the systems worked to better ad- vantage than on ong of the cable lines, on which three cars were Wrecked as a result of improper working of the grips. ‘The in- cident is simply ‘angther proof that over- head wires and poles aréinot indispensable to the successful operation of electric roads in the streets of towns and cities. Bequeathing Brains to Science. From the Kansas City Star. The brains of criminals, ‘suicides and others less than normal have been those chiefly accessible to medical students, and it is not tobe wondered at that a Boston doctor's appeal for the brains of moral and educated people should have been made. it is said that in response to this appeal of the Cornell Society eight brains ha‘ been bequeathed to the Ingpitatian. for scl entific study, and “twenty-five others now in healthy working order have been promised. But is it not a question whether brains that know for a period of years that they are to be studied might not receive the impress of an abnormal-degree of self- consciousness which would be revealed in @ post-mortem examination? SECRETARY CHICAGO EXCHANGE, 17 Col A. M, Liter Recommends That Best of Remedies, Paie's For ten years secretary of the National Butter | and Egg Association, and since 1882 secretary of the Chicago produe> exchange, Col. Robert M. Littler | has been in constant demand as a burcau of infor- mation by correspondents who recognize Chic as the commercial center of the country. When such people as Col. Littler, State Treas- urer Colvin of New York, Modjeska, the actress, ex-Minister to Austria John M. Francis, and hosts of other equally responsible persons voluntcer tes- timonials as to the wonderful virtue of Paine’s celery compound. no sick or suffering person can with any show of reason hesitate to make use of the great remedy that has made so many people well. Col. Littler says: “T have used with great benefit several bottles of Paine’s celery compound ard I have recom- mended it to my friends. It is a wonderful spring reyedy.”” TESLA’S RADIOGRAPHS. He Speaks of the Results of Some In- teresting Experiments. Frem the Electrical Review. { “I am getting more and more convinced,” says Mr. Tesla, in speaking of his experi- ments in radiography, “that we have to deal with a stream of material particles, which strike the sensitive plate with great velocities. So far, most of the phenomena indicate that they are projected through the wail of the Crookes bulb, of whatever material it may be, and I am seeking for still mcre conclusive evidence In this di- rection. It is now demonstrated, beyond any doubt, that small metallic objects or beny or chalky deposits can be infallibly detected in any part of the body. By an exposure of forty minutes Mr. Tesla obtained a radiograph of the human skull, showing clearly not only the outline, but the cavities of the eye, chin, cheek, nasal bores, the ijower jaw and connections to the skull, the flesh and even the hair. “By exposing the head to a powerful Ta- diation strange effects have been noted, he says. “For instance, I find that there is a tendency to sleep, and the time seems to pass away quickly. There is a general soothing effect, and I have felt a sensation of warmth in the upper part of the head. Should these remarkable effects be verified by men with keener sense of observation, I shall still more firmly believe in the exist- ence of material strength penetrating the oe toentgen advanced modestly his results, warning against too much hope. Fortu- nately, his apprehensions were groundless, for, although we have, to all appearance, to deal with mere shadow predictions, the possibilities of the application of his dis- covery are vast. I am happy to have con- tributed to the development of the great art he has treated.” -—____+e2—_____ MAKING CHANGE FOR TWO-FIFTY. It Will Break Up the System of the Average Cashier. From the Chicago Post. It was only a little two-dollar-and-a-half gold piece, but it is surprising the amount of trouble a little thing can sometimes make. The young man had handed it to the cashier in the restaurant, and was waiting for his change, while behind him were two or three other people waiting for him to get out of the way. But cashiers are methodical, and, further- more, nine-tenths of them have one cer- tain way of making change that involves dealing in even dollars, as a general thing. No matter what the size of the bill, they take the amount of the purchase out cf the first dollar, if it is below that figure, and then hand over the rest of the money in dollars or bills of larger denomination. That was what puzzied this cashier. “Oh! Two dollars and a half!” she said, while she was trying to make a mental calculation, according to her usual system. “That’s what it is,” replied the young man. “Of course,” she returned, slipping it into the drawer. “Check, 40 cents,” and she counted out 60 cents in order to get on the dollar basis as soon as possi¥le, after her usual fashion; “one dollar, two dollars, three dollars—no; that’s not right.” She was red in the face as she drew the money back and began over agzin, realizing that the paltry half dollar !n the gold piece had thrown her financial system out of order. She made three trials before she got the right amount of change on the counter, and—well, if you don’t believe that a two- dollar-and-a-half gold piece will “knock out” the average “lightning change”. ecash- jer, try it some time and you wil be con- vinced. “ ———_— ree _____ His Reason. From Puck. - Judge—“Well, Murphy, what have you to say?” Murphy—“Oi wus cilibratin’ th’ oecashan, yer honoi Judge—“What special reason had yoif for }~ celebrating?” Murphy—“Shure, Oi got into a foight wid |" Big Muldoon, loife.” Never equaled, Dr. Bull's Cough Syrup. an’ Oi eschaped wid. me. Celery Compound, NY Go to the busiest lawyer, cditor or business man of your acquaintance who has taken Paine’s celery compound. There are hosts of such professional men in every city who would brrdly spare you 9 Tmoment’s time for strictly business matters. Ask one of them in his lusicst hours whether he can recommend Paine’s cclery compound, and ten chances to one he'll “Sit down. No matter about my being busy; always glad to praise Paine’s celery compound.”” That is the feeling zmong people who have been wade strong and well by Paine's celery compound. ‘They never feel happier than when they can per- susde some man or woman who fs cut of healih io try Paine’s celery compound. Next to doing good to on2’s self there 18 a delight in doing good to others. There ‘s po rore enthusiastic body of in- telligent men and women throughout the country | than the great army of those who have recovered health by the use of Paine’s celery compound. FORCE OF AN AMERICAN GUNBOAT. Returned Missionary Tells of a Per- sonal Experience. From the New York Examiner. Moral infiuence is good, but it is also a good thing to have something behind it. A missionary who recently arrived in this country from Turkey in Asia mentioned to the writer the following experience. Of course, we must suppress all names and places, from a regard for his safety and that of his associates. “I left,” he said, “the town of — in the morning. In the afternoon of that day it Was attacked by the Kurds, and several hundred of the inhabitants were slaught- ered. When I reached the seaport, intend- ing to take the steamer on the way to America, I was told by the local authorizy that I could not have a permit to em); for he was commanded to detain a person answering to my description until further orders. I explained to him the necessity of my taking the steamer and the great incon- venience of delay. He expressed his regret, to but declared his inability to allow mi Proceed. Presently the steamer sailed w out me, and I had to wait another week. “Day after day passed, bringing only politeness and promises. The consul tele- graphed to Constantinople, but the tele- gram had to pass through the hands of the government, and my name was purposely so muddled that the minister could only telegraph back: ‘I have received your com- munication, but cannot make out to whom it refers.’ At last the consul managed to get word to the commander of the gunboat, which was lying sixty miles off. Next morning, looking out on the Mediterranean, I saw the smoke of an approaching steam- er. As it came nearer I said to myself: ‘Why, that looks like one of the white squadron.’ Presently I saw at her fore- peak the stars and stripes. She anchored in the port, and the commaander called on the local authority and said to him: ‘I have come to inquire into the case of Mr. —. The local magistrate, with great urbanity, said: ‘Oh, that is all right. His papers are in order and he can go at any time.’ The commander replied: ‘I am very glad of it, for otherwise I should have been compelled to demand him.” Money in, the Moleskin Bu From the San Francisco Post. “No, boys, it ain’e money that makes my pockets bulge out that way, but it is the equivalent,” remarked a gray-haired, gray- bearded rancher from Mendocino, as he took in the slack of a hay rope that did service for a belt. “To tell you the truth, my breeches pock- ets, amd my coat pockets, too, are pretty well lined with moleskins. Within the last year I have developed into a mole hunter, and it pays. I have several acres in straw- berries at Ukiah, and they need consider- able water. I used to put in a lot of time digging little trenches and turning water this way and that, but it was disappoint- ing to go out the next day and find that I had been irrigating a mole hole. I set a watch on the little pests, and I soon Jearn- ed their habits. Since then it is no trouble at all to get them. . “In the first place, I found that a mole never comes straight to the top of the ground, but always on a slant, and you will see the ground agitated for some time be- fore he throws up his hill. If you step within twenty feet of him when he comes to the top*he will instantly stop work and tun. It's no use to try and catch him then. “But a mole is the victim of habit. If he is disturbed at his work at 2 o'clock today he will not come back till exactly 2 o'clock tomorrow. You can set a watch by him and deperd on its being right. Well, I watch around in wy berry patch and take the time whenever I disturb Mr. Mole. The next day, when it is time for him to come back, I take my station rear his hole. As soon as he throws up his ijittle mound I plant my foot behind him and close up the hole... Then all I have to do is to scoop him out of the dirt and drop him in my pocket, kicking and scratching like a good fellow. I kill hin, stretch his skin cn a shingie, and a@ man bere in the city pays me $1 aplece for them to make purses of Disappointment in Boston. From Puck. Papa—“You look sad, Waldo.” ‘Waldo—“Yes, papa; it's the Roentgen discovery. How could I have been so ‘stupid as not to find that out?” enn. | The vast majority of discases that end dine trously might be quickly and permanently cured if sick persors could only be induced to take Paine's celery compound. If women, burdined beyond thelr strength with household cares, would only take Paine’s celery compound when thes feel that dis- pirited, enervated condition coming on, they would escape the 'yrdom of backache, headache, dis- ordered liver and heart trouble. 5 Instead of being thin, nervous and unhappy they would experience the joy of perfect health, sound digestion and quiet nerves. Pvine's celery compound 6 just the remedy needed by women who are in continual {ll-bealth end spirits, seemingly well one day apd almost sick abed the next. Their tfouble lies plainly im the went of good rich Mood, and plenty of it, and in the consiqueat famished state of their nerves. ine's celery compound should be taken without - It will restoce the Lealth und stop every tendency toward a debilitated condition. A CONFEDERATE INCIDENT. The French Once Offered the Secedea States $400,000,000. From the Raleigh (N. C.) News and Observer. The success which the ‘government has met in negotiating its recent loan brings to mind an incident in the financial history the late confederacy not generally know and which may be interesting and instru lve to recall. In the winter of 1862-63 tho cenfederate congress decided to place a Ican of $10,00,000 on the European mar- ket. The French firancier who came over here to confer with the authorities at Rich- mond, Va., in the matter strongly urged upon Mr. Meminger, the secretary of the treasury, and upon the joint committee of the congress the advisability of making the loan one, or two, or five hundred mil; “ons, stating that it would be entirely practicable to negotiate such a loan; and Bave 2s a reason that it would be most de- sirable to get his country and other Euro- pean states financially interested in ‘he confederate cause. As the payment of the loan was to be contingent upon the success of the south, these thus financially interested could be expected to exert an influence favorable to the confederacy, and might force their re- spective governments to recognize the in- dependence of the southern states, and lend them valuable aid, as a means of securin the payment of their money thus sub- scribed. It appears that Meminger f: vored the suggestion of the French banke! but the congress decitied to adhere to its first determination; and in February, 1363, the loan was placed onthe Paris bourse. When the result was announced it aston- ished Europe and convicted the confederate authorities of a failure in statesmansnip. Bids amounting to more than $400,000,000 were made. It is idle now to speculate as to what ef- fect on the prosecution of the war the in- vestment of so large a sum of money by the people of France in the fortunes of th confedeacy would have had; but {t-is en- tirely possible that.the ror, Napoleon Ill, would have felt obli to recognize the political authority of the southern states, when his countrymen evinced in a way so remarkable -their.supreme confi- dence in the ability of the confederacy to obtain their independence. by one of the great powers of Europe, and with $400,000,000 of gold on-hand for the purchase of ships and other military sup- Plies in the spi of 1868, the strategy of the Gettysburg campaign might not ha’ been required, and the thousands-ef valua- ble lives sacrificed from that time on to aoe night have beetrsaved*to the soutl What Puiried Uncie-Gechaw. Sarah—“Father, I wish you wouldn't look at Mr. Ferdinan@ Citily’s clothing 5 sharply when he calls. It embarrasses him.” Uncle Geehaw (puzzied)—“I ‘won't no more, da’ter, ef you say so; only, b'gosh, his collar an’ cuffs ix sewed onto his shirt, an’ I'll be gol durned ef I see how he kin turn ’em. I stpose he has tew turn the hull thing inside out tew do it.” Dropping in for lunch.—Truth.