Evening Star Newspaper, December 18, 1897, Page 22

BY THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1897—26 PAGES. ANTHONY .HOPE INS, ‘en for The Evening Star. Synopsis. von Dule, the teller of the story, born le bloed in an English country dis- trict shortly after the execution of € i I, is looked upon as destined to gr wise woman has prophesied th love what the king loves, kn ing hides and drink of the love with Ba Lord Quintor etly sojour return to Len- m in the Kin 3 s to London, discovers cy is really Nell Gwynn and decides | to is commission use she pro- cured it. Simon becomes a favorite of the young Duke of Monmouth, and is attached to his suite. A message from Gwynn arouses his old love for the true state of affairs hi: love for Cydaris to Dover with the young duke. Tess He her. bury he in with a French gentleman, who is mysteriously excited at the words “NM vient.” spoken as a sample of hi ench. The queen and her suite are rith much pomp and ceremony, ak javishly co tress Barbara. This nettles him, s 1 step is heard and the my M. de Perrencourt appears, to wh young Guke bows in most abject submis- aks with Bar- | sion. M. de bara in a my: fidential man ne ad on his departu ‘imon make to mre ices when nee tment on the day fol- appeara and s oner in his own ap low s punish: for his curiosity. The Dukes of York and Monmouth seek by a counterplot. Dale, to thwart the y, but Dale is hurriedly the kii t and | = cup. sught him. | to be dri sent | Tate and to the end Darrell. e is appre- his diabolical pur- | Simon is then at- de Perrencourt, at for purposes of nd confesses dis sentenced. -d to the suite of M leman's reque TER XV—Continued. to my quarters in no my heed, though it s Hi from the ¢ of taking i from my d I could the puz anced to be of some The a brought ith to Dover | en now being ac- d suthori uasions, a high find my work | that it was e king which h arisen between \ his grace pneourt Dake ef Monmouth, in which religions, the put forth | sore for ! rench to the ture com you wiil. or in m noice I me a low kKneck on na a man sipped i To m peak a word you're to sail for are the kin: But in you 1 i you could be so far from here that he with whom you go could not wait return.” ‘ “Well ; your price to fly facing ite ing to ca’ you willing to pay me 4 (“For it’s you wh Come, man, you k = who goes with you?" ’errencourt and M Why I go IT don't kr Nor who e¢ in my eves. I w woes?" he g paused for a moment and ir plac fool Monmouth, d sult me T have aad the well for a mas- | Then ask him to fe will net Then Ol go.” He drew a st him close in w te take you He'd rathe! ‘aid 1. T watched | y net know | and his honor was ill | raving reed. t will you gain by goin, And if you tty he must take.” not M. Ibert enough?" iciously, sumed ignor well that he he will take me. ed s though nee. Colbert “I don't k what his purpe: be You swear ment jolost willingly,” I answered. “It is sim- ple truth He gazed at me still as though but nVinced i he “he asked, in distrust and am: t n what's your purpose in g. ng?” 1 obey my orders rd one It an with ye sir, To serve Yet [ have a purpose, rr trust with myself and guard the lady who goes uals After a moment of seemin; surprise broke into a sneering | spgak pia = ily. “And 1 do not desi: Ww to your hands, my lord. he he i A sudden suspi tions to make. " I opened the door I pray you 1 it for him. His rage had mastered him. He nd the veins swelled on his forehead. heaven, you shan't go,” he cried, d his hand to his sword, s that Mr. Dale shail ne in the doorway, plain § boots, and a cloak ty Yet I knew him, and ¢ . Carford shrank both bared our heads. | against dom fears reneourt advanced into the room, fixing his eyes on rford. “My lord,” he said, “when I decline a &entleman’s services I am not to be forced into accepting them, and when I say a gen- COPYRIGNT. 1897 —>~A_< BY AHMAWK! tleman shall go with me, he goe: Have you a quarrel with me on that ac nt ?"" Carford found no words in which to an- but his eyes told that he would en the world to draw his sword M. de Perrencourt, or, indeed, ainst the pair of us. A gesture of the | neweomer’s arm motioned him te the door. had one sentence more to hear be- e he wv suffered to shrink aw: Kings, my lcrd,”" said M. de Perrencourt, “may be compelled to set spies about the sons of other: They do not need them about their own. ‘arford turned suddenly white and his teeth set. I thought he would fly man who rebuked him so scornfully, but such an outbreak meant death; he con- trolled himself. He passed out, and Louis, with a carel bed. I stood res: ‘Make your preparatio f an hour's time we depart. I obeyed him, setting about the task of saddle bags with my few posses- atched me in silence for awhile. poke. ve chosen you to go with me,” he “because, although you know a thing, and although you see y r blind.” membered that madame thought my . but I received the com- oppo He Ir blindness ¢ pliment in ‘The he pursued ri and ard r, am I not as good a greatest prince in For such, indeed, ail the werid he p “Yet even th ince in Christen- id he, smiling. y A woman's tongue, a wom- rs. a woman womin's | iy, Mr. woman's Je! It wes well that ms varations ¥ me, or they had never been done. 1 wa yea in all S ps my fae < of the thought, for b nd,” he pur- t comment to make on 1 had heard the talk as not for me Nor did the und approached me, vwi made & none tuation istress Quinton?” - to me now, and he whis- ad whispered to the amber. and such a lad “iman might climb hi wor nd 1 coulu not S a start. At last the ed, and my part plain. » work 1 was to do, the fp rd [ was to giin, Had he when T was not yet nd con ent, king: have drawn my swor or evil dissimuiaticn is With a great effort 1 repr ion and hid my disgust. ested no insult. me in the : his Fer gocd learned. Kin, time, deeming what he had te sLali_ take place at d I (L wonder now to nd siniled. Be ready in a quarter of an hour,” with us smil and left me stuod her s for the best pert still left to me. 1 saw why Carford desired the mission on whicn 1 went, why ra e bide me pr closing’ of my eyes, how my fortu ccme from the hand of King Erglish gentleman and his wife travel back with the king, the king would give his favor to both. And the lady w Barbara Quinton. I turned at last and made my final prep- ution. It was simple: I lo: my pistol { hid it about me, and I bvckled on my rd, seeing that it moved easily in the th. by fortur ST had to redeem - pledge which I had given to my lo lis daughter's honor new knew Lut in my the chance Then as lived of 1 ad, and w E “#s than men, hirg for wealth or place. I ng of her; no word had come her to me. She nad scorned Monmouth, but h wen to smile upon M. de rourt? I drove the thought from me, me again and 2gain, shaming me nd ng on re. She went with M. de Perr . Did she go willingly? With that thought beating in my I stepped forth to my adventure. CHAPTER XVI. M. De Perr rt Wonders. she but it brain As Iw ‘kly from my quarters dewn tot . M. Perrencourt’: st whisper, bh my ver and such a lady for hi gentleman might climb echced in my eors so loudly and in- to smother all thought of what 1 in the council chamber and to » of no mement for me the plots and plans of kings, Catholics and ranters. That night I cared little theugh the king had ned away the liberties of our religion reulm. I spared no more than a wonder for the attempt to which sience run mad had urged Phineas and in which he in bis turn had in- volved my simpieton of a servant. Let ‘The issue lay in pove my knowledge and be- yerd my power. My task was enough and more iham cnough icr my weakness; to it I turned with no fixed design and no lively Lcpe, with a prayer for success only and a resoive not to be King Louis’ catspaw. A month ago I might have marveled that he offered such a part to eny gentleman; tre fllustons of youta and ignorance were melting fast, now that I was left to ask why he had selected one so humble for a plece that grea: men held in those days with open profit and without open shame, aye. and have held since. For although I have lived to call myself a whig, I do not old that the devil left England for good and with the house of Stuart. We were on the quay now, and the little ship lay ready for us. A very light breeze blew off the island, enough to carry us over if it held, but promising a long passage; the weather was damp and misty. M. Col- bert had shrugged his shoulders over the prospect of a fog; his master would hear cf no delay, and the king had sent for Tho Lie, a famous pilot of the Cinque ports, to go with us till the French coast should be sighted. The two kings were ikem ali plot and plan. od's hand, would | walking up and down together in eager and engrossed conversation. Looking about, I perceived the figures of two women stand- ing near the edge of the water. I saw Col- bert approach them ana enter into conver- sation; soon he came to me, and with the smoothest of smiles bade me charge myself with the cure of Mistress Quinton. “Madame,” said he, “has sent a discreet and trustworthy waiting woman with her, but a lady needs a squire, and we are still hampered by business.””” With which he went off to join his master, bestowing an- other significant smile on me. 1 fost no time in approaching Barbara. The woman with her was stout and short. having a broad, hard face. She stood by her charge, square and sturdy as a soldier cn guard. Barbara acknowledged my salu- taticn stifly. She was pale and Seemed anxious, but in no great distress or horror. But did she know what was planned for her or the part I was to play? The first words she spoke showed me that she knew nothing, for when I began to f y saying, ‘The wind fs fair for us, | cd, crying, “For us? Why, are you coming | with us?” 1 glaaced at the waiting woman wo stocd stolidly by. “She understands no English,” said Bar- | bara, catching my meaning. You can | speak freely. Why are you coming?” ; ‘Nay, but why are you going?” She answered me with a touch of defiance in her voice. | “The Duchess of York is to return with | madame on a visit to the French court, and I go to prepare for her coming. So this was the story hy which they were ng her to trust herself in their hands. $ y might have forced her, but da hetter Yet agita- d mingled with defiance in her voice. ent on A in truth, are you? Don't jest with me “Indeed, I'm coming, n cemy sur liking me. I hope my sone answer to another.” ed me, but she did not stion into words. With a little said: 1 to be quit of th I put her qi shiver sh place.” | “You're right in that,” Lanswered, grave- ly. | Her cheek f and her eyes fell to the | ground. ¥ * she murmured. “But Dover ¢ where danger “Madame hi petuously “And M. de Perrencourt?” I interrupted. He—he gave his word to his sister,” she tid in a very low voice. Then she stretch- 1 her hand out toward me, whispering, ‘Simon, Simon.” I interpreted the appeal, although it w but an inarticulate cry, witnessing to a fe of dangers unknown. The woman edged a little away, but still kept 2 watch. I paid no heed to her. I mt tle is not the only place ” said T. worn— she began, im- services are always at your Mistress Barbara,” said I, without the right to th at M de Per- court purpo: 1 don't understand. you wouldn't enter my to give you. Hor an he-why, ughed a little as she made this sug- but there was an eagerness in her art answered to it, for T saw amd comfort in the thought of any Perrencourt,” said I, “purpos t I should enter your service, and 0. Mine and his?” she murmured, puzzled and alarmed. I did not know how to tell her, I was ashamed. But the last moments fled, and she must know before we were at sea, “Yonder where we're going,” I said, “the word of M. de Perrencourt is law and his pleasure right.” She took alarm and her voice trembied. “He has promised—madame told me,” she stammered. ‘‘Ah, Simon, must I go? Yet I should be worse here.” What can we do here? I “You must go. go willingly “For what “To serv you listen? “Quick, quick. Tell me!” “Of all that he swore he will observ: nothing. Hush, don’t cry out. Nothing! I feared that she would fall, for she reel- ed where she stood. I dared not support her. “If he asks a strange thing, agree to it. It's the only way.” “What? What will he ask?” “He will propose a husband to you.” ; She tore at the lace wrapping about her throat as though it were choking her; her you if it be in my power! Will “I Won't Go.” eyes were fixed on mine. I answered her gaze with a steady regard, and her cheeks grew red with a hot blush. “His motive you may guess,” said I. “There is convenience in a husband.” I had put it at last plainly enough, and when I had said it I averted my eyes from her. “I won't go,” I heard her gasp. “Ill throw myself at the king’s feet.” “He'll make a clever jest on you,” said I, bitterly. “T'll implore M. de Perrencourt-—” “His answer will be—polite.” For a while there was silence. Then she spoke again, in a low whisper; her voice Daw sounded hard and cold, and she stood rigid. “Who is the man?” she asked. Then she broke into a sudden passion, and, forget- ting caution, selzed me by the arm, whis- pering, ‘Have you your sword?” “Aye, it is here.” “Will you use it for me?’ “At your bidding.” “Then use it'on the body of the man.” “I'm the man,” sald I. ‘You, Simon?" Now, what @ poor thing is this writing, and how small. a fragment of truth can it hold! “You, Simon!” The words are noth- ing, but they came from her lips full charg- ed with woader, mggt incredulous, yet col- ored with sudden hgpe of deliverance. She doubted, yet she caught at the strange chance. Nay,, there was more still, but What I could pot tell, for her eyes lit up with a sudden sparkle which shone a brief moment, and then was screened by droop- ing lids. poate “That is why I go,” said I. “With M. de Perrencourt’s favor and such a lady for my wife I might climb high. So whispered M. de Perrencourt himself.” “You!” ske murmured again, and again her cheek was red. “We must not reach Calais, if we can escape by the way. Be near me always on the ship; fortune may give us a chance. And if we come to Calais, be near me while you can, “But if we can’t escape?” I was puzzled by her. It must be that she found in my company new hope of e: cape. Hence came tne light in her e and the agitation which seemed to show ex- citement rather than fear. But 1 had no answer to her question, “If we can’t es- cape?” Had I been ready with fifty answers, time would have lacked for one. M. Colbert called to me. The king was embracing his guest for the last time. The sails were stread. Thomas Lie was at the helm. I hastened te obey M. Colbert's summon. He pointed to the king, going forward. I knelt and kissed the hand extended to me. Then I rose and stood for a moment, in case it should be the King’s pleasure to ad- dress me. M. de Perrencourt was by his side. The king's face wore a smile, and the smile breadened as he spoke to me. “You're a willful man, Mr. Dale,’ “but fortune is more wi:lfui still, You would not Woo her; therefore, womanlike, sh~ loves you. You were stubborn, but she is resolute to overcome your stubborn but don't try her too far. She stands wa ing for you open-armed. Isn't it so, my brother?” “Your majesty speaks no more than id M. de Perrencourt. uu accept her embraces?” said he, asked the king. I bowed very low and raised my head with a cheerful ar “Most willingt se your majesty, they wo not hold across the water.” “Good. ~My brother is more fortunate than I. God ke with you, Mr. Dale.” At that I smiled again. And the king smiled. My errand was a strange one to earn a benediction. Be off with you,” he said, with an impatient laugh. A’ man must pick his words in talking with you.” A gesture of his hand dismissed me. 1 went on beard and ched him stand upon the q s Lie steered us out of the harbor and laid us s As we moved the king turned and ) mount the hill. We moved, but slowly. For an hour we made way. All this while eon deck, except for the crew a The rest had gone below. follow, but a g « Lie. 1 had offered to sture from M. Colbert sent me back. The sense ot helples 3 was on me, overwhelming and bitter. When the time came for my part I should be s fer; until then nore had need of me. cculd guess well enough what was passing betow, nd I found no comtort in » KNOW » of it. as aman torn and torm that his steps, howgver hasty, cannot out- rip. The cigw stared at me, the pilot spared a glance of amused wonde rode to and fro so rest- at the stern of th ship, whe boat, towed behind cut through tye water as a diamond piece of giass, ,For-an instant I thon Icaping in awd making a bid for alon strange tone in whic struck home to my heart for- at I kK with the woi nd turned from the boat to fe over th sea. There is a power in the quiet wate by night. It draws a man with a pron of in the soft lap of forgetfulne strong is the allurement that, though 1 cornt’ myself sane and of sound mind, 1 do not 1 to loyk;too long on the bosom of deep waters when the night is full, for nted with thoughts the doubt comes then whether to live is sanity and not rather to die, and have an end of the tossing of life and the unresting d at act of the impulse came to. me mightil. fovght it, forcing m If to look, r the weakness of fright from the siren. For I was fenced round ble: nd of a sore bh there ecuntry and a heart at peac Suddenly T gave a low exelamation; th ter which had fled from u: Ss we moved, secming glad to pass us by and rush again en its race undisturbed, ood sull. From t Out of the shimmer sd-itself and lay there nd bright. B nt. I heard the © moré dens the len, of our ate. That yn vith trou- y the open Vapor settled on 1 bounded sight, all movement md we waters, inert and ic I leane the gunwale, feeling fog moist on my seeing in its bafitin: that bound and round me the felds a type of the to fettered i me a hurried on deck. all round u could b died av The rest of what passed seems even now inge dream that I can hardly follow, sue alone I know, which I can + cover cnly dimly and vaguely in my mem- I was there in the stern, leaning over, istening to the soft sounds ‘of the se Thomas Lie'’s beat rolled lazily from to side and the water murmured gently under the gentle stroke. Then came voices again just by my shou I did not move. 1 knew the tones that spoke, the per- sive, comma iding tones, hard to resist, apt to compel. Slowly I’ turned) mysclf round. The speakers must be within ¢i; or ten feet of me, but I could not see them. Sull they came nearer. the scund of a sob, and at it s iaidity, poised on ready feet, with my hand on hilt of my sword. You're wéary new,” strong voice. “We will talk again in the morning. From my heart I grieve to have distressed you. Come, we'll tind the gen- tleman whom you désire to speak with, and I'll trouble you no more. Indeed, I count myself fortunate in having asked my good brother for one whese company is agree able to you. For your sake your frien shall be mine. Come, I'll take you to him ard then leave you.” Barbara’s sobs d. I did not won ier that his persuasions won her to repose and almost to trust. It seemed that the mist rew a little iess thick. I saw their fig- ures. Knowing that at the same moment I must myself be seen, I spoke on the in- stant. I am here at Mistress Quinton’s scry- ‘aid the smooth, M. de Perrencourt, to call him still by his en name, came forward and groped his way to my arm, whispering in Frenc “All is easy. Beé/gentle with her. Why, she turns to you Of her own accord. Ali will go smoothly.” ou may be sure of it, sir,” I said. “Will you leave her with mé?” Yes,” he &nswefed. “I can trust you, cen’t 12” I may be trusted to death,” I answered, smiling behind the-mist’s kind screen. Barbara was by his side now; with a bow he drew back. I!traced him as he went toward where! Lie! stood, and I heard a murmur of volces as he and the helmsman spoke to one another. Then I heard no mre, and lost sight of him in the thjck, elcse darkness. B-put out my hand and felt for Barbara's; it came straight to mine. “You—yor vstay with me?” she mur- . “Ineofrightened, Simon.” As she spoke I félt on my cheek the cold breath ef thertwind. Turning my full face, I felt it mores. The breeze was rising, the sails flappedsagain. Thomas Lie’s boat buffeted the waves with a quicker beat. When I Icoked toward her I saw her face, framed in mist, pale and wet with tears, beseeching me. There at that moment, bern in danger and nursed by her helpless- ness, there came to me a new feeling, that was yet an old one, now I knew that I would not leave her. Nay, for an instant I was tempted to abandon all effort ani drift on to the French shore, looking there to play my own game, despite of her and despite of King Louis himself. But the risk was too desperate. ‘No, I won't leave you,” I said in low tenes, that trembled under the fresh bur- den wiich they. bore. But yes, the wind rose, the mist began to lift, the water was running lazily from under our keel, the little boat bobbed and danced to a leisurely tune, “Tne wind serves,” cried Thomas Lie. “We shall make land in two hours if it hold as it blows now.” The plan was in my head. It was such an impulse as, coming to a man, seems revelation, and forbids all questioning of its authority. I held Barbara still by the hand and drew her to me. There, leaning over the gunwale, we saw Thomas Lie's boat moving after us. His sculls lay ready. & looked in her eyes, and was answered with wonder, perplexity and dawning intelli- gence. a “I daren’t let him carry you to Calais, I whispered; “we should be helpless there. “But you—it’s you.” “As his tool and his fool,” I muttered. Low as I spoke, she heard me, and asked, despairingly: “What then, Simon? What can we do?” “If I go there, will you jump into my arms. The distance is not far.” “Into the boat? Into your arms in the boat?” “Yes. I can hold you. There's a chance if we go now, before the mist lifts more.” “If we're seen?” “We're no worse off.” “Yes; I'll jump, Simon We were moving now, briskly enough, though the wind came in fitful gusts, and with no steady blast, and the mist now lifted, now again swathed us in close folds. I gripped Barbara's hands, whispering, “Be ready,”’ and throwing one leg cver the side, followed with the other, and dropped gent into Thomas Lie’s boat. It sw me, but it broad in the beam and rode high in the water; ao harm happened. Then I stood square in the bows and whispered. “Now For the beating of my art 1 scarcely heard my own words, but I spoke louder than I knew. At the same instant Barbara sprang into my arms there was a rusa of feet across the deck, an oath rang loud in French, and another figur peared on the gunwale, with one leg thrown over. Barbara was in my arms. I felt her trembling body cling to mine, but I disen- gaged her grasp quickly and roughiy—for gentieness ks time, and time we had none—and laid her down in the boat. Then I turned to the figure above me. mentary glance showed me the King Louis. I paid no more heed, but my knife and flung myself on the rope that bound the boat to the ship. Then the breeze dropped and the fog fell thick and envel My knife was on the rope and I severed the strands with cesperate strength. One by one I felt them go. As the last went I ed my head. From the shiv above flashed the fire of pistol, and a ball whistled by my ear. Wild with excitement, I laughed derisively. The last strand was gone. Slowly the ship forged ahead, but then the man on the gun- wale gathered himself together and sprang across the water between us. He came full on the top of me, and we fell together on the floor of the beat. By the narrowest chance we escaped foundering, but the turdy boat proved true. -I clutched my ilant with all my strength, pinning him rm to t. shoulder to shoulder. hot on my face. s From the ship “The boat, the ip grew dim and “Row, the sculls row,” I muttered. Then I heard set in their holes, and with a falicring stroke the beat was g' from the ship, moving nearly at a le to it. I put out all my strength. I was by far a bigger man than the king, and I did not spare him. I hug- ged him with a bear's hug, and his strength was squeezed out of him. Now I was on the top and he below. I twisted his Vistol from his hand and flung it ov beard. Tumultuous. ¢ from blurred is thi the breeze they had no other boat. E e me the scull ra yiclded them. death when they ambled into away right the but thick, til. lay spered. F Is were cold as ine. She sd the log now—till he body under the face looking up Then I fell to row except that our hip, and re at i form below me my pistol at his y with the middle of h at en which I was, h feet. cour: > from the of the sculls and till to drop m. head, Yet that need came to my work, and when I look houlc the ship was not to be but all around hung the white vapor, the friendly accomplice of my enterprise. That leap of h t thing. He knew that js Master in strength, and that I stood where no motive of pri dence could reach and no fear restrain me. If 1 were caught, the grave or a French prison would be my fate. To get clear off he might suppose that [ could count even the most august life in Christendom well taken. Yet he had leaped, and before heaven I feared that I had killed him. If it were so, I must set Barbara in safety and then follow him where he gone. There would be no place for me among liv- ing men, and I had better choo: > my own end than be hunted to death like a mad deg. These thoughts spun through my as my arms drove the blades into water on an aiml course through st, till the mast ef the ship utterly appeared and we three were alone on Then the fear overcame me. I and leaning over to ern, I shaped Wena the question, dead? My God, he dead? (TO be continued.) — HISTORY OF ICE-MAKING. Unique Methods Followed by the Ancients, From Cass‘er's Monthly. The most ancient method of making ice is practiced in India. Holes are made in the ground, dry oft are straw is put at the bottom and on it, at the close of the day, placed pans of water, which 2 until the next morning, when the ice that is found within the pans is col industry carried on only in where the ground is dry and will r absorb the vapor give in the r The fi s to the great amount of heat absorbed by the vapor in passing from its liquid to its gase- ous form. Another process was practiced in the days of ancient Rome, when the wealthy said to have had their wines cooled hi ing the bottles placed in water into which saltpetre was thrown, the bottles being the while rotated. Dr. Cullen, in discovered that evaporation of water could be facilit: by the removal of the pre: mosphere, could be frozen. Nairn, in 1777, discovered that sulphuric acid would absorb the vy: of water if placed in a second vessel sepa- rate from that containing the water, but connected with it. This discovery he put to use in 1810 by constructing an’ apparatus for absorbing the vapor of the water that it was desired to cool or freeze. This appara- tus greatly facilitated the freezing opera- tions of a vacuum freezing machine. Jacob Perkins was the father of what is now known as the compression system, having invented the first machine of the kind in 1834, and, as these machines, im- proved, are at the present day more in use than any other, 2 description of Perkins’ patent may be of interest. His apparatus consisted of an insulated vessel, in which was inclosed a second vessel containiag ether; a vapor pump, a worm and worm- tub, a tube between the second vessel and the pump, another between the pump and the worm, a third between the worm and the bottom of the ether vessel, and the nec- essary valves. As afterwards constructed, the apparatus was made up of a jacketed pan, within which wes the water to be cooled; an in- sulated box, in which was placed the pan; a@ pump to extract the vapor from the jack- et; a worm in which the vapor was con- densed after it left the pump; a worm-tub containing cold water to cool the worm, and by means of ‘he latter the vapor with- in it; and pipes connecting the top of the pan jacket to the pump, the pump with the upper end of the worm, and the lower end of the worm with the under side of the pan jacket. The refrigerating agent used with this apparatus was one derived from the destructive distillation of caoutchouc. James Harrison improved upoa Jacob Per- kins’ apparatus in 1856, and it has been fur- ther improved by many others since. are dunder- ded | Where Decorations for the Holiday Season Are Obtained. AN ARMY OF WORKPEOPLE EMPLOYED Preparations That Are Always Be- gun Early in the Fall. HOLLY AND MISTLETOE a eres “Is Christmas going out of fashion” Well, hardly, if my business is any indi- tion of the estimation in which i held.” It was a Christmas tree dealer in New York who spoke, and while he talked he was superintending a number of mon who were at work removing shapely young firs from the little coasting steamer amd piling them along the pier. “Few persons have any idea of the proportions to waich the trade in Christmas greens has grown in this count continued ler. de has at least doubled within the past few years, and this s on we expect to ke-p up tae increase. Most folks never think about the business end of the Chris! tree trade, I e, beyond noticeing that a small-sized forest springs up in cer- ity every December quickly as it comes. But as to compress his whole into a few weeks, begins © middie of the summer. The of the stock bezins in Se tember and gees steadily on from that vutil within a week or two of I supp “There's a good deal more competi now than t started in the busin n we could get abs the same in Boston, Ph the eastern cit > Zood of our Christm com: frem northern 3 Eng! creas the farmer used to be delight ve us clear off his ground for him, now he charges us from $1 to $2 per hundred, and upon our taking everything clean, 1 of selecting the most per! growth, as we once did. In bringing the bulky stuff from such a distance, too, the cost of trapsportaticn is c ene can buy tmas stout the price it would t ten years ago, and the growth in the volume of the trad> makes our profits about the same, tial, for Center of the Trade. hering and ns forms the chi rker from the autumn and early winter, 4 Christme to many a coun- hous urces are few and the epso earnin r between, ter of the tr: r Chri = nil , in the en Key- of the The mas gt many a during burg, just Here the m that 1 along the fe coast 0 Wreaths and roping and gens of every pattern. The s themselves, of course, y to market from the place where y are cut. A few of them are obtained irem this s section, but most om northern New York south ed from worked up it tive des and England. Among the Je for Christraas when the balsam too ary the she the wor is carried on. curried on st pines the in in late hered by reparatior commur of f though some of the mploy “help” from the en or twenty miles around. - -d on by women and your rerly welcomed by € nd is ¢ I-to-do cou unt of th of its social side, ccuntryside is go ms in which th Ss and the rc sit buzz with e like of a New F re ering the Material. The gather est with the tic nen e out all day cutting 1 young balsams, p! und firs, ground pi flowers, he kind of p! tilable for use or it bus} + ever sawing out and making into forms the lath and light timber on which the greens are mounted. Half a million feet of lumber are used for this purpose every By the time a big th is accumulated the mz terial which has to be brought {1 tance begins to arrive. Pi Which immer fr by train from the With the arriy work of * ings s nd small by wreaths and simi! »ped off and piled ps besi¢ worker. On the oth are th frames and by the deft 1 scissor: cord and wire the women turn out the finished pieces at an are paid by the piec cents per dezen b wreaths, while from dozen is’ pz chors, ¢! orate de: half a gross of the or a gross of plain wreaths, so t earnings range from 7 vei most € stonishing rate. They , Ships and other more elab- ‘The fa: who make nd those requiring an artistic combination of different terials, are paid at a still higher rate. While wages are good and the work is hard, there is plenty of fun for the too, On one or two nights “k the floor of the workshop i cleared and an impromptu dance is at which all the young fishermen and boat: men of the neighborhood gather to make merry. Fifteen Thousand Yards. While a good deal of mate! is wu in wreaths and stars and other designs, eve more is worked up into roping, which has come to be used in immense quantities for church, store and house decoration. Rop- ing is usually made from balsam, hemlock, and the materials which are less desirable for single pieces. The small twigs strip- ped from the branches are twined on wire, the long strings are dipped in scalding green dye to give them a brilliant col are then hung out of doors or in low stieds to dry befere being sent to market. idea of the extent to which this branch ef the business has grown can be gained from the fact that last season a single great department store in Nes od with one dealer an order for 15.000 yards of reping to be used in its Christmas dec- orations. Acres on acres are stripped every year to supply the greenery so characteristic of the American Christmas. In the Jersey dis- trict alone something like 100 ions of prin- cess pine is used, along with corresponding quantities of balsam, fir, mosses and other local materials. All this goc3 ¢ mak- ing of decorative designs and Goes not fn- clude Christmas trees, which form a larze item by themselves. It is impossibie to tell exactly how many trees are used cach season in the whole councry, for in many places the supply is local, but the ligu cannot be short of -2,000,000, Very likely they should be higher than this. Some 300,000 evergreens were cut for this pur- pose in the Catskills and Adirondacks last year, and more than 500,000 were obtained in Maire, New Hampshire an] Vermont. A good many are cut in Pennsylvania, while the southern states have enougn for their own uses. It would ‘e scem that the above estimate is much too low. Trees That Are Used. Down to very recent years spruce and fir were the only trees used for Christ- nas, wile Folly and mistletoe held un- disputed the field of decoration. But with the great increase in the demand for Christmas greens many other materials have been pressed into service. The cheap- er trees are now pine and hemlock, which are less desirable than the spruce because their spines are not so long and silky and York pu CHRISTMAS GREENS! are more apt to drop off after the tree has been kept for a days. For decorations & great variety of new things have come to be used. The Jerseymen discovered that their cape flowers wi their bright berries Produced a good effect. and that everlas ing, bitters: t and a gre number similar growths could be utilized in t made pieces, The beautiful juniper, whi always been highly esteemed in t of late found « ble quantities of it ar ne shipped north from the Virginias and Ca lin Moss used to a consider extent, 5 diapery ard decor: pine of New Jersey Teosses. Florida and two years ago a grea s shipped north, but it y great favor on account mes use quantity has not s and mistletoe still favor, though the had admit many humbler plants to their Pany. Holly and laurel are both gathered chiefly in Delaware, Mary Virginia and the Carolinas. It is pac foot cases just as it is 7 hold ped from ‘the nearest) wharf station to be sold out in small br the city str One New last year sold 1.000 ens. It must be stored in a nd sprinkled with water y day until it is ready for shipmen of the others merely sprink when they nd are piled up in the most ce When ready f ipment they with scuiding which Nowed to fi nd ts @ out again until thes placed is The Mistletoe Bough. It may be of interest to know that of the “English” om letoc ® conspicuously played on our city bout Chr time noi one omes fre land. The that the great rds of Wor rshire and Lincolnshire, which th glish mi is ob- , have nearly exhausted their supply. Most of the mistletoe row brought to this country comes fro: Normandy, where it is so thick that the farmers look upon it as a dis- tre really mas or- nuisance. Some American mistic from Delaware and Virgini. year, tut ft is gene ‘erior to the impor g It is dif © compute how great American pocket book is call to pay for the greenery of Christmastide. For the trees about $5 per hundre ally paid woodsman who ¢ In some pl a dollar or two m added to this as a recompense to the own y retail at from ents to $ ce ding to size and quality. Out of this difference in prices comes. the of the wholesale and retail dealers, the cost cf transportati se much used for de r ton in rly & tons or this no smail i from $6 to SI co:t of mistl by the exp ases were Sew Hon to th About ork las r, and, a branc it have am dtoa rou é rican people than $3.000.000 for © Most persons will b ii is worth this s in the brightness ar BCod ¢ it bi into our ordinarily colorless lives. —_— -+ — Game Record of the Kaiser. Vrom the New York ‘Tribune. In view of the fact that the kaiser’s left arm is withered and his re a head of game killed with his ow nd during the last two d kable one. It is contain game which has just 1 ead for alatio; per- Ss and court circle Com- ed in this total are do not fall to the lot Thus there are a couple species of bi in certain ex of every of on that is st remote dingly s0-C4 w almost thousand year tirely extinct boars, wild Sweden, nalf a 21 mois membered what an exce ume this ix to shoot, « untaineering of the when it is ly difficu as it docs, m m duous and perilous character. a measure tc atone for tac which figure having been cae emper a faet wh more likely to i |jure his repu tice in the eye of hunung m even crime cof which he It must be borne in min with th ame book” cannot use his left 2 or to ta weapon aim. He upen motions are ery one makin) Vided with a A motion is lost when the mover of sam¢ has not re i sness within half an hour after making tt. 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