Evening Star Newspaper, August 22, 1896, Page 17

~ THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 22, 189¢-TWENTY PAGES. DANCING THE KIT CHEN LANCIERS. LONDON NIGHT CLUBS Where the Young Swells Evade the Excise Laws. es FORMALITIES OF GETTING IN Gay Scenes When the Kitchen Lanciers Are Danced. THE LIVELY BRIGADE SS Se Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. LONDON, August 10, 1896. ONDON IS DARK at night. The res- taurants and bars are closed at 12:30. The streets are si lent. They are long, dark ways that seem to lead nowhere. The cheerful and promis- cuous razzle-dazzle of Paris by gaslight gives place to an echoless Nirvana, wherein blank noth- ingness is wrapped around with emptiness. The time has come go to bed, to be up fresh and early for your bath and kippered herring. It is for this reason that the gilded youth have had night clubs invented for them. Outside the night club all is black, in heaven no single star, on earth no track; but inside there is light and song and cheer. In the language of Mr. Corbett on his last trip over, “Paris isn’t in it with them.” The idea had its conception in the brain of a rackety old stock exchange rounder at a time when he was interested In the fortunes of a clandestine gambling estab- Crossing the Threshold. Mshment that was about to be raided. His meditations naturally led him to the thought of lovely woman, and the trick was done. He had found an innocent sub- stitute to retain his clients. Dancing! The cup! The melting eye! Certainly the idea SOMETHING TO REMEMBER BYE AND BYE. the patronage increased seven-fold. The ladies trooped in, and night clubs were born. Can’t Be Raided. Being real clubs, they could not be raid- ec. Undoubtedly should an excise officer gain admittance and have himself served without being made a member, there would be a case of selling on unlicensed prem- ises; and in the course of the past ter years there have been numerous raids and closings. When this happens the detectives Rave themselves served with spirits, beer, wine and tobacco, in order to establish four distinct offenses, so that the judges may accumulate fines on the club proprietors to the ext>nt of hundreds of pounds. Yet, on the whole, no carefully conducted night club need fear the police. So long as no cutsider is admitted to pay for drink or tobacco, the excise has nothing to com- plain of. And the concern cannot be raid- ed as a disorderly house unless the neigh- bors complain. The way to get around this latter difgculty is to choose your ne:ghborhood. These clubs of rendezvous and gayety. rise and fall, increase and disappear sud- denly and without warning. The opening and closing of a London season often de- was an improving spectacle to youth. Smoking Parties. = It was at “The Gardenia” that the prac- tice, now universal in high-class night clubs, of having smoking parties originat- ed. Once a week the best music hall per- formers and even stars from the regular stage were called in, to make a finer enter- tainment than could be seen in any publio amusement place. For a long time no wo- men were honorary members, with the ex- ception of about a dozen privileged ones. In all other cases women were obliged to come with members; and the class of girls was that of the “Gayety” type, bur- lesque actresses, chorus girls and figur- antes, together with a large number of fair ones living in their own villas, neither toiling nor spinning. Nevertheless mem- bers had a right to bring in whom they pleased, end many availed themselves of the privilege. The tendency was inevita- ble. Other smart clubs of the same char- acter rose and declined, “The Carnation,” “The Poppy” and “The Nell Gwynn.” The history of one is the history of all, and perhaps their best frequenters would not have it otherwise. Anybody gets up a night club. You have had one example of a gentleman doing it in the case of Dudley Ward. Ordinarily it is an adventurer with a little capital. The secretary is regularly a broken-down swell, and the committee is composed of men with good names. A small or large building Is hired. The situation must be fairly central, near the clubs and places of amusement, and, above all, where there are no neighbors to complain, near a large shop or church. ‘The Mandolin,” in Baker street, was out of the way, but it was cn the road to St. John’s Wood, where many of these ladies live. “The Alsatians” is in Oxford street; ‘The Regent’’—now a gam- bling “‘hell’’—is in Regent street; “The Sup- per Club” is just off Piccadilly; “The Car- melian” is near Oxford street, and “The Spooferies” is in Maiden Lane. At the present moment “The Alsatians” is by far the most aristocratic of the lot. Entering the Club. You walk down a little entrance hall by the side of a shop, and you are met by swinging doors with “The Alsatians' painted on them. The doors swing freely, and you meet a barrier in the shape of a burly porter in a gorgeous uniform, who makes it clear to you that only members are admitted. What would happen should @ stranger in evening dress present him- self and say: “I wish to become a member tonight; here is my entrance fee of five ELECTRICITY'S. RIVAL ee Compressed Air..Has Entered the Field, fa Stay. age IN EVERY DEPARTMENT OF EFFORT Transportation Problems That May Now Be-Solved. DIFFICULTIES OVERCOME (Copyright, 1896, by the SB. McClure Co.) It is only with its recent very successful application to the purposes of street trac- tion that the general public has awakened to the immense utility and the wide possi- bilities of compressed air. Within a few years, very largely within the last decade, it has come to undertake such a multi- Plicity of tasks that a mere enumeration of them is astonishing. We have long known cf the value of air for stopping cars in the shape of the Westinghouse brake; now it 1s used to start cars as well. We are fairly familiar with its work in drilling out rock excavations for the modern sky scraper; it is another matter to learn that this same compressed air drill, used in the mine, has enormously added to our wealth of gold and silver, of coal and iron, and copper, through the cheapening of the production it has caused. It is still a further matter of surprise that this pro- tean force has turned canal digger, and was the largest single agent in the con- struction of Chicago’s great drainage canal, in many respects the most wonder- ful canal in the world. We are again acquainted with the pneu- matic dynamite grn, where compressed air is employed to throw a huge charge of high nds,” is a subject that would stand de- bain: Perhaps he would get in. Sup- posing that you are with a member, you merely sign your name in a book. Standing by the visitors’ book is the sec- retary, and behind the secretary there 1s the cloak and hat room. You walk up a splendid staircase, as if you were going into a swell private house. Around the staircase there runs a kind of balcony, and everywhere there are decorations of flow- ers and ferns. The ladies’ cloak and toilet room is to one side, with every possible requisite from curiing irons to hairpins. Passing the sacred spot, one comes to a big bar, the only give-away of ‘‘The Al- satians.”” I have been told by an American that he was fifteen minutes in the ball room before he discovered exactly where he was. But in the bar room there is no mistak- ing. And were it needed for the mind’s enlightenment, there is beside the bar a AT THE ALSATIANS. cides their fate. Hundreds of low-class clubs are always in operation, but it 1s the higher class of the type of the present-day “Alsatians” that give the most effective picture of the British rigolade when it gets half a chance. Some of the Clubs. actual moment, when so many cople are away, only “The Alsatians,” ‘The Supper Club,” “The Carmelian” and “The ThaHa” continue open, and of these the latter two are distinctly middle class. “The Regent” and “The Waterloo” closed only a short time ago. Both were raided. Of the smarter there have been “The Mandolin, opened three years ago in Baker street and had a short, eventful career, made a great deal of money and collapsed; “The Palace,” in Jermyn street, whose neighbors complained, and had it closed, At the and the aristocratic old ‘Corinthian Club,” to which all the swellest people of atever age flocked while it Hved. It was really and truly a club—one had to be regularly elected; the entrance fee was £5, with £ annual dues, and blackballing was freely practiced. They were particular about members admitting friends. Mem- bers were obliged to write their own names and their friends’ names on proper forms. Outsiders were never allowad to pay for refreshment, and the strictest eye was kept on the admittance of the fair. Nev- ertheless, women have,always been honor- ary members of all these cluns. In general the lady must be young, pretty and well dressed as well as well behaved. When one makes a row her name is “put on the gate” of the club, and she s iost to {t, unless some one intercedes for her and a commit- tee meeting is held. She fs not turned out, but when she leaves at night she is told not to come back. Before the time of “The Corinthian” there was the smartest of all, the old “Gardenia,” in Leicester Square, originated and run by Dudley Ward, one of Lord Dudley’s family. Nearly all of ‘was not exactly new, for no town seems to be complete without a plano; but his application of it was to be novel. The bling club was emptied, swept and hed; and in the twinkling of an cye the committee were titled men and half of them married. To see these worthies sit- ting in solemn conclave on the case of a Piccadilly sunbeam, accused of shining too “rightly or of upse:ting @ supper table, as thing is on the bill of fare, and at extor- tlonate prices, Champagne is a guinea a bottle. The club epens its doors at midnight; the dancing begins at 1 a.m.; the supper continues until every one has had too much; and the ‘‘ca- noodling” goes on till 7 o'clock in the morning. On the third floor there is a great billiard room, and it is all night from flocr to floor, and up and down the stairs, and on the stairs—and banisters. There is as much laughter as liquor, and the Hquor has never been known to fail. rules of decorum are not outrageously vio- lated. Most of the men know one another. A large proportion are of the smart, fast young fellows knocking about the town; there are a great many army and stock ex- change people; and, in general, it is the large fat diamonds, man.” air look: “Must have been your said. cute bazaar, where there are sold all kinds of gimcracks, which the fair ones try to make you buy for them—gloves, fans, gar- ters, rings and parasols and bonbon boxes. Every drink is a shilling and the walters expect to be tipped. Being in powder and knee breeches, they present a splendid ap- pearance, and thelr senses are so keenly trained that they can tell a lady by her perfume. Luxurious Surroundings. Now, this ball room, which you strike immediately you leave the bar, 1s one of the prettiest you could imagine. And all around it you will find the most luxuriant armchairs. But, best of all, in the minds With and Without Wine. of the worldly, there is a sort of nook at the far end ‘where you sit and canoodle,” just as at a dance in the beau monde. Everybody dances. Peers of the realm and men of science, as well as bookmakers and journalists. The editor of a religious weekly has told me that he considers it a duty to dance, thus using his influence for good. And, indeed, some of the girls dance beautifully. We are far from the disgrace- ful folly of the Moulin Rouge and the Jar- din de Paris. Nevertheless, the carping critic might compare the feature of the night, the “Kitchen Lancers,” to the quad- rille that intrigues the sightseeing tourist in the alleged gay capital of pleasure. Cer- tainly the Lancers are danced in the most rollicking fashicn at ‘The Alsatians;” the girls are lifted and swung like Indian clubs, they skim the floor like ducks in the foam of petticoats. And, perhaps because of the refreshment, which is wetter than among the prudent French, and because of the Anglo-Saxon conscience whispering to the darcer, he is lost in any case; and, again, because of the privacy and the lateness of the hour, these Lancers may be likened to an amiable pandemonium. The Supper Room. On the floor above the supper room is large as the ball room. Every- you may well believe. Yet the lively brigade. STERLING HEILIG. ——__ Kindly Comment. From the Cincinnati Enquirer. said the large fat person, with the “I am a self-made ‘The enguiae gentleman with the soured at him curious Job, eh?” he explosive to the distance of a mile or 80; {t is another matter to think of this same force cleaning carpets and dusting cushions. It has been successfully employed to pro- Pel locomotives in-mines; it is equally use- ful to shear sheep. It will operate a block signal or it will steer a ship. It was a Novel thing when we read of the buildings of the world’s fair being painted by com- pressed air, but it is a common enough thing now; it is even used to polish and sandpaper cars as well. In Paris it is em- ployed to run clocks and as a cooling agent in refrigerators; it runs motors, propels sewing machines, lifts scenery in the thea- ters, drives lathes and printing presses and street cars, and is the motive power in all the little shops which turn out the curious articles de Paris, which are so great a source of revenue to the French capital. Other Uses. We know of its use in carrying malls in Pneumatic tubes. It is now proposed to make it carry freight. It is employed to raise sunken vessels, and very shortly it will be introduced on the Erie canal to operate the locks.‘ By the Dutton pneu- matic high-lift lock it’is proposed to pick up a great ocean Miner and lift it as high as Niagara with “less effort and in less time than is now required to elevate a clumsy barge the ‘height of a bean pole. In the railroad shops it is everywhere, running machinery, Koisting huge loads, riveting bolts, driving bammers, 1s em. ployed in forging and in every concelv- able variety of Work. In Kansas City beeves are slaughtered and the meat dressed all by compressed air. It is an excellent pump, especially for deep wells; it 1s used to pipe oll and pump chemicals. It is used by the physician and the sur- geon in many delicate operations. It makes a good elevator hoist for grain. With compreseed air you may dump a whole train of coal or, dirt cars with the pressure of your thumb. It is used in sculpture and in stone carying, it makes a good dredge, it.raises and lowers rail- road gates, it will copy your letters, run summer fans, it 1s used in the sugar re- finery and in tho making of asphalt and of rubber, and still again in the delicate manufacture of fine silk. In fact, there seems hardly a Mmit to the uses to which tt may be put. The wonder of it now seems that all this has not been done long ago. Compressed air ts rot new, in the sense that electricity Is new. How, then, does it come that it is only of very recent years that it has been generally used? Probably the chief rea- son will appear with hardly any explana- tion at all. It was largely a mania for things electrical. It seems absurd to say that the business world has been carried away with a mere enthusiasm, and yet this is literally the case. The beginnings of the use of compressed alr were almost coincident with the introduction of elec- tricity. And compressed air being known, its possibilities being capable of more or less accurate definition, it was literally neglected for its less known, more showy and mysterious rival. Electricity Now Well. Known. It is a frequent matter of remark now that had a tithe of the money and brains and genius been expended in the develop- ment of compressed air as has been given to electricity, the present relation of the two forces would be reversed. For a long time electricity represented the unknown; its possibilities were unquestionably great; for a time they appeared boundless. Now, however, its capabilitles are more clearly cutlired, its powers definitely known, and mechanical and inventive genius ts turn- ing to the development of the force of air. The three chief factors of recent prog- ress are perhaps the. perfection of the compressing apparatus and of the reheat- ing process and of the non-bursting steel reservoir. When compressed air was first tried it was found that the loss of power in the process was enormous. Then, again, there were thermodynamic difficulties with- out number. If you put a thousand cubic feet of air into the space of a single one, you develop a high degree of heat, and in order to use the air this heat must In some way be drawn off. Similarly, air at high pressure when released cools rapidly; the result is freezing and clogging. It used to be thought that these difficulties were for practical purposes insuperable. Now, however, these very difficulties, or, rather, the causes which produce them, are turned to profit—to such excellent profit as to afford an apparent paradox. It seems idle to assert that you are able to get out of a machine as much power as you put into {t—that this is perpetual motion. And yet this is almost literally true in the pres- ent day use of compressed air. In this country there are alr compressors built so perfectiy that the loss of mechan- ical efficiency in compression ts only about 5 per cent, and of the. total efficiency only 15 or 20 per cent; that Js to say, if you use up a hundred horse power in the compres- ston of the air yoy will have a force that will, In the case Of the best type of alr compressors, give” yoll, elghty or ninety horse power in return, Here incidentally is another triumph of American mechan- ical genius. In thé famous Popp system in Paris, where compfessed alr is distributed through 125 miles ‘of mains, the efficiency realized {s less than 3Q per cent, a little more than haf that In-this country. Wonderfa1 Mechanism. The compressor %hich does this work is a beautiful machine of, what is known as the four-stage type. That is to say, the air is first driven up! to about eighty pounds pressure ari@ then cooled by a water jacket. then turned intg a second cylinder, where it is compressed, still further, then cooled again, and so on up to the desired point, the air thus being kept at about the same temperature as that of what Mr. Shakespeare would call the circumambient atmospere. Now, if the air be used in this condition, technically known as “cold,” it will, as I have already noted, realize an efficiency of 80 per cent or more. But if, as it is re- leased, it is passed through a heater or shot through superheated hot water, it will, under the well-known properties of air, enormously expand. It has been found Possible to add one horse power to each orse power of compressed air for one- eighth the original cost of compression. One form of heater that has been devised adds 35 per cent of efficiency with about this expenditure in the shape of coal burned. Adding to the efficiency of the compressed air when used “cold,” to the amount of power developed by reheating, it will be seen that the total amount of power real- 17 ized is about equal to the power expended in generation. A Matter of Efficiency. Theoretically the total efficiency is act- ually greater, but it is a matter of fact in Practical use it is slightly less. It is, nev- ertheless, true that in tests made on the Hardie street car motor it has been found possible to realize about 5 per cent more energy or work from a given quantity of coal by burning the coal in a good type of air-compressing apparatus and using this air, under reheating, in the Hardie motor, than as if the coal were put into an ordt- nary locomotive and used directly for the generation of steam power. The apparent paradox is due to the added power gained from reheating the air. Comparing American and Parisian gp- pliances asain, the efficiency developed un- der the Popp system in Paris, with re- heating, 1s stated at from 60 to 70 per cent, 73 per cent being given as the maximum. Assuming a loss of from 3 to 5 per cent un- der the American method, it follows that the degree of efficiency realized under the Popp system is something more than 20 per cent less than that attained in this country. It is to be noted further that compressed air began to be used in Paris long before it was taken up in this country, the Mekarski system of surface transit alone having been in operation for more than ten years. With the perfection of compressing ap- Paratus, and the reheating system, has come a third Important development, which has chiefly made possible the use of com- pressed air for street cars. This is the in- vention of what is known as the Mannes- mann tube for the storage of the air. The latter is simply a seamless tube or flask, made of mild steel of any desired size and capable of receiving and holding air charged to a very high pressure. Up to the time of its introduction it had been practically impossible to provide a suitable reservoir or holder. Those which were employed were enormously heavy, took up a wholly impracticable amount of space, very often exploded and always leaked. The loss in one way or another was very great. The Mannesmann tube solved the problem by providing a chest that was practically air- tight, that If it burst did not fly in pleces, but simply ripped as would a leather bag, and was therefore not a hazard to life; it was light and it took up very little space. A High Charge. These tubes are now made to carry al- most any charge of air. In the case of the Hardie motor their testing strength is 4,000 pounds per square inch and their maximum charge about 2,000 pounds. These steel cylinders are distributed underneath the seats and under the car body in such a way as not to infringe upon the room ofan or- dinary steet car, and hold fifty-one cubic feet of air, sufficient to run the car fifteen or eighteen miles. For the reader appre- ensive of sitting over so highly charged a device, it may be stated that the whole effect of an explosion of one of these tubos would be a loud report, a rush of air and a slight disturbance of the atmosphere im- mediately adjacent. There would be no flying pieces of pipe, no steam or hot air to scald and all you would see afterward would be an ugly rent in the tube. Such is the rough outline of the impor- tant elements of the advance in the art. The improvement in the devices for com- pression represented economy of produc- tion, the development of the reheating pro- cess represented a large gain in the amount of power derived from the air, and in conse- quence a still further cheapening, while the seemless tube offered at once safety storage and insurance from loss. By virtue of these improvements the re- duction in the cost of manufacture has been very great. As computed by Compressed Air, to the editor of which I am indebted for much information, air may now be compressed to high pressures for consider- ably less than 3 cents per 1,000 cubic feet. It is probable that air could be compress- ed, piped through a large city and sold at a profit for 5 cents. It is to this cheapening, not less than to its mobility and the ease with which it may be applied, that the wide use of compressed air at the present time Is due. Once a cheap power was offered, it thereafter remained but to develop the various special devices and appliances by which {t could be utilized. One after another these inventions ha’ been made, until it is now estimated that this wonderful force is employed for some- thing more than 200 distinct purposes. Fature of the Force, When we consider the probable future of the new force, as such it may fairly be called, we live over again our experience with its rival, electricity. The immediate conclusion, after a survey of the sufficiently marvelous things that it can and actually does do, is that there is hardly a limit to be set to its possibilities. But a brief calcul tion will define its limits with some ac- curacy. To compress a given quantity of air requires a given amount of power, and A DARING BOY DIVER Plunges Safely From Yard-Arms ~_ and Sky-Scrapers. LEARNED 90-SWIM AT SEVEN YEARS He Now Wants to Try the Brook- lyn Bridge. HOW HE FEELS (Copyright, 1896, by the Bacheller Syndicate.) HE MOST DARING boy diver in the world ts to be found in New York. Having already made a number of headlong plunges which would make an ordinary man turn pale with fear, he now proposes to dive from the dizzy heights of Brooklyn bridge into the wa- ter of the East river, 150 feet below. Diving head foremost from the cross- trees of a ship, or from the roof of any building that happens to stand conven- jently near the water's edge, 1s a familiar incident in the career of this seeming- ly reckless boy; but at the same time none of his lofty plunges have been tak- en without a full realization of just where and how he was going to strike the wa- ter, and as a result he has never yet met with an accident. This phenomenal boy diver hardly shows in his looks the eighteen years he claims; Diving Ninety Feet. indeed, he 1s about the last person one would ever select from a crowd as pos- sessed of extraordinary daring. There is nothing of the braggart in either his ap- pearance or his manner, yet he talks of taking hundred-foot dives as calmly as if they were nothing more uncommon than crossing a street. His home is in Hoboken, N. J., where = ——— | his mother, a brother and two sisters re saide; the boy diver, however, spends most of his time in New York. In speaking of his high dives he salads “I cannot explain just how I do it, or why I feel no fear, but I know that I do not. I have known how to dive and swim ever since I was seven years old, and now it seems like second nature to me. “How did I learn? In the simplest ang most natural way in the world. When I was a child my father took me down on the dock one day and threw me overboard, clothes and all. Naturally, I was frighten- ed, but he only daughed’ at me when I called for help, said, ‘Swim or drown,’ It is quite needless to say that I did not drown, for somehow, when I struck out I had seen other boys do, I found that could swim, and I have been swimmi more or less ever since.” The latest dive which young Brunck has taken was one which, when it was suggest ed, seemed almost suicidal. He, with some companions, was swimmirg at the foot ot 7th street, Hoboken, when come one tol kim that he did rot dare dive from the roof of the tall Rockwell plaster mill which is built on the dock. Brunck hesitated for a@ moment; then one of his companions said: “Go on, Louis; I will give you a quar ter to take the header.” The roof of the building is ninety feot above the water, which at that point is only eight feet ‘deep. Brunck was soon standing on the ridge pole of the building. He waited a moment, and then raising his hands above his head, leaped out into space and shot downward. Not once did he change his position, but struck the water hards and head foremost, sending the spray dashing high on either side of him. In a few seconds he appeared at the surfsce, about fifty feet from where he struck the water, and swimming to the landing at the foot of the dock, promptly he a = u the quarter due him for the SOOT ET in demanded jump. When asked how it felt to take a dive from such a height as one hundred feet, he said: “It is an odd sort of feeling. There is an exhilaration caused by the sudden rush through the air, and while I know that I am only in the air for a few sec onds, in that time I can do a lot of think- ing, and I am always wondering how I shall strike the water. | know that if I turn while in the air and strike in the wrong position, the chances of my getting ashore are small; but nothing of that kind has ever happened yet. “I should not be afraid to dive from the Brooklyn bridge, but I would not attempt to jump feet first, as the others have done. I feel safer end can control myself b in the air when I go down head first nearly as I can describe my sen while shooting through the air, I feel much one does when an elevator suddenly drops—only much more so—and now 1 actu- ally enjoy the sensation. I certainly should not fear to take a header either from the Brooklyn or the Poughkeepsie bridge, and you need not be surprised if you hear of my doing so.” This boy who talks so calmly of throw- ing himself head first through a hundred and fifty feet of space comes of a family of natural swimmers and divers, his father having been an expert at both, while his brother almost daily takes a noonday dip from the cross-tree of some ship lying along the Hoboken docks. the result to be realized in work cannot be greater than the amount of power employed in generation. Otherwise you have per- petual motion—a proposition that is not patentable, and is otherwise open to sus- picion. It follows with a reasonable degree of cogency that compressed air will not be utilized save where, by reason of greater utility or convenience, it 1s economy to con- vert your original power into this form of potential energy. It is not probable that compressed air will be used to run railway trains or steamships, although it is con- ceivable that it might be valuable in days to come, when we shall fly through the heavens. But, on the other hand, compressed air is superior to steam piping or any form of shafting for the conveyance of power. A long series of tests at the Pullman shops near Chicago have demonstrated the im- mense economy which lies in its use, and it will, therefore, be universally introduced at these works, as it is in many other great car shops, as in Jersey City, Topeka, Omaha and elsewhere. e By far the largest use, however, will come when compressed air is manufactured tn huge central stations, similar to that of the Popp system in Paris, and is distributed in mains and sold commercially, just as are gas and water and electricity. Then hardly a limit may be set to its usefulness. It will be in every home, as in every office. Every house will have its elevator, by which, with the turn of your hand, you may lift yourself from floor to floor. The housewife will sweep and dust with air, and I do not doubt that in time, madam, {t will come to wash your dishes and smash your choicest china- ware with all the dexterity, if not with the same sangfroid of your most accomplished handmaiden. It may supply fresh and cool- ing air in the summer time to the over- heated offices, the factory or the sleepi room. The time may come when it wil whisk a letter from New York to San Fran- cisco between the opening and the closing of the business day. What else it may do probably wrapped in the brain of the seedy and neglected gentleman of invention and applied sctence. ——— INCANDESCENT LIGHTS. ce Against Loss of Employ- ment. From the New York Journal. The development of the original theory of insurance has resulted in innumerable curious specialties, but it has remained for a concern in Atlanta to cap the climax by insuring the employe against the loss of his job. All persons of good character, steady habits and the like are eligible to member- ship, whether employed at the time of joining or not. The different classes are graded by salary received by the applicant per month, and they range from $5 to $100. All persons thrown out of employment after six months of membership in good standing will receive the benefits of the system. They will receive one-third of their regular salary for four weeks, and the president is authorized to pay out such extra benefits as may, in his discretion, be justified. Professional people and others who do not work for a regular salary may enter the company. There is a clause In the prospectus governing the distinctions made between different methods of losing one’s employment. This is of vital importance. It sets forth that such a calamity shall not bs for incompetence, dishonesty or intem- perance. Barring these three provisos, and they would seem to cover pretty nearly ull the ground, should a man lose his position he can draw one-third of his salary for four weeks. Nothing to Indicate It. From the Chicago Pst. “There aren't nearly so many complicated diseases now as there were a few years ago, are there, doctor?” ‘Yes, indeed, there are.” “That's funny. There don’t seem to be any indications of it. But possibly deaths from such complicated troubles are fewer. ‘The doctcr shook his head. “I am afraid they are fully as numerou he said. It was the turn of the other to shake his head now. “I don’t understand it,” he said. “It cer- tainly seemed to me as if the doctors at- tributed fewer deaths to simple heart fail- ure.” Insura: They Are Put to Many Uses, Some of ‘Them of an Ignoble Kind. From the New York Sun. Incandescent electric lights are used to illuminate the eyes of mounted animals, bears, tigers and lions, shown by furriers. Here, obviously, a light with a flame would not do, while the incandescent light an- swers the purpose well and conveniently. The wire is run from the head down through the animal’s body and out through one of its feet to a connection with the service wire of the store. Incandescent lights are used in refriger- ators, such as the Ice boxes of the whole- sale dealer in cut flowers and the butcher. Their use in sidewalk showcases is famil- jar; in dressing show windows the flexible connection admits of placing the light where it is wanted with each new trim- ming of the window. They are used in electric signs, some of which are permanent, while others are formed of letters that are movable, like types, so that the sign may be readily changed as often as may be desired. Elec- tric numbers are made in the same way. One may see a painter at work at night in a store, paint brush in one hand and electric light—with the wire trailing away back of him—in the other, to enable him to see the better in some nook or cranny that he is painting. The incandescent lamp is used to light sidewalk awnings. The lamps are strung along a wire hung under the ridgepole in- side the awning; the wire and lamps are simply taken in when the awning is. Mov- able bill boards are illuminated in the same manner. From Harper's Bazar, ee An Innocent. Frem the Somerville Journal, She—‘Am I the first girl you ever kissed?” He (surprised)—“Why, no! I have three sisters.”” Neighbor—“Why, cheer?” Leander—“Waal, you kin jest bet I am. A fellow sold it to me fer a music stool, sakes alive, Leander, an’ I've been turnin’ it for three hours, and THOUGHT HE WAS BUNCOED. WOOD BURNERS AND COAL BURNERS Contrasts in the Smokestacks of Old and New Style Locomotives. From the New York Sun. The modern coal-burning locomotive pre- sents a great contrast to the old wood- burning engine, and in no feature ts the centrast more striking than in the smoke- stack. The coal burner has a straight smokestack; the wood burner had a big, flaring, funnel-shaped smokestack, which, rising above a boiler smaller in diameter and set nearer the ground, was almost as conspicuous at one end of the engine as the cab at the other. Now there are made locomotives with boilers so big and standing so high above the tracks that the smokestack must be made very short to go under the bridges and through the tunnels. On some of these big engines a straight-edge laid along would touch the top of the head-light, the smokestack, the bell frame, the sand box, and the steam dome. The short, dumpy, straight stack is as far as it could be from the old-fashioned smokestack of the wood burner, and the whole engine is the very type of energy and power. + A Useful Elephant. From the St. Louis Mirror, A few years ago, when Lord Dufferin was viceroy of India, the Rajah of Holkar paid the viceroy a visit. While he was there he saw Lord Dufferin take up some fllustrated London papers which had just arrived by mail and cut them with an ivory paper knife. It was the first time the Indian prince had seen such an instrument used. “Make me a present of that,” he said to the viceroy, “and I will give you another.” Lord Dufferin hastened to comply with this modest request and the young rajah return- ed to his country. Not long after he re- turne@ to Calcutta, bringing with him a young elephant, whose tusks had been carved in the most artistic manner, in the shape of a paper knife. This he brought as a present to the viceroy. A table bearinj some illustrated papers was placed by a servant before this intelligent beast, who immediately seized them with his trunk, cut them most deftly with his tusks and then handed them to the viceroy. what yer goin’ to do?—chop up that purty can’t git a note out of the darn thing.”