Evening Star Newspaper, March 19, 1922, Page 65

OF THE HIGH COST OF CAREERS FOR WOMEN| AND HUMOROUS GAMBLING. ADVENTURES BY MAYME OBER PEAK. ARY ROBERTS RINEHART, the novelist, whose name now occurs in the society columns as “Mrs. Stanley Rinehart,” will claim Washington as “ her ablding place for the next year, having come with her husband, Dr. Rinehart, who has been appointed for that period of time tuberculosis con- -sultant In the Veterans' Bureau of the war risk. It was to interview Mary Roberts Rinehart and Mrs. Stanley Rinehart that the writer kept up a five-week- siege. The highest-paid woman writer in the world is not easy not only because of extreme diffi- dence on her part to take the public into her private life, but because she runs on so busy anmd varied a schedule. She may be here today; tomorrow, in New York conferring with her publisher, or next week on the west coast, where she directs the making of movies of her stories. From =2 material standpoint, her time must be worth about $50 a min- ute! Therefore, when the writer had finally succeeded in getting her to grant a brief Interview and, by rea- son of a car-tie-up en route, reached her apartment thirty minutes behind the appointed time, it was little short of impudence to ring her door- Dell “I know T'm over a thousand dol- | lars late,” the writer apologized, as Mary Rinehart herself admitted her, looking very serene. Sie laughed understandingly at the breathless ex- planation of hold-up and mad sprint at the end, and. murmuring that she was leisurely recovering from the flu and hadn't been punching the time-clock, waved the interviewer to a comfortable couch backed with cushions. Mary Rinehart was dressed in a long-waisted frock of black chiffon, with accordion-plaited draperies. Wide black moire ribbon built a ruff at the back of the square-cut neck and, forming a surplice, fell below the skirt hem. A long string of ivory and platinum, and one-strap pumps with silver gray hose, com- pleted her costume. Perfectly groomed and poised and very human is this woman, who began her ca- reer scrubbing hospital paint and filling hot-water bags, and who today keeps a secretary busy clipping cou- pons, collecting royalties and answer- ing a wide-world correspondence. She is much slimmer and younger-looking than her pictures indicate or a granddaughter would lead you to be- lieve. She exudes virility and youth of heart. Not a gray hair shows on her head. Quiet forcefulness is Mary Rine- hart's most compelling quality. Back of it lles the secret of her flme—!he' methodlcal planning of her whole ex- istence, vigorously followed without waste or hurry. Her first novel was written when she was twenty-seven and her oldgst boy was two years old. She was as determined she could write as she was that she could make time to do it in.. It was a far ery from the busy doctor’s wife and young mother of three growing boys to the woman who eventually left her well ordered house in the morn- ing, motored to her office in Pitts- burgh, shut off the telephone and worked undisturbed until time to go home to dress for dinner and to meet with 2 smile the head of the house, the oldest, the middle and the young- est son of all. Ask her what her career has cost her and what her success means to her today, and she will not wax elo- quent on the zest she has found in her struggles, on the elation and thrills which come with the realiza- tion that so many people are reading what she has written, talking about her newest play or picture, or point- ing her out and kotowing to her as one who has arrived. Nor will she spéak of the material comforts she has achleved. The writer put the inevitable ques- tlon: “Is it worth 1t2” “What has been worth more than anything else to me,” she said, “is the human contact I have had, the wondertul friends it has brought me from all over the world. Mine was the horizon of the country mouse. While now—" here he voice trailed oft as though conjuring up vislons of the seas she has traveled, mine- swept, or glorified by a tropical moon; the lands she has traversed, frem cities to forests and snow-cap- ped mountain top; the congenial spirits she has met, grouped round & campfire, or in the saddle or isolation of desert or plain. Generals and buck privates; the famous and the un- known; rich and poor. “Success is very humblin continued. “Mine came so gradually and was paid for with such an agon- izing amount of hard work that I feel very much like the man who sefimped end saved for years to buy an automobile and then could not enjoy it after he got it for thinking about what it had cost him.” “In choosing a career,” the Inter- viewer asked, “how would you sug- gest going about it?” 3 “I think it is generally the career that does the choosing,” Mary Rine- hart replied. “If one has a talent or big ambition, there is no difficulty in finding the proper outlet and oppor- | funity. What we want to do most, wé slways find & way to do. And next to knowing what that is, the most Important requisite is nlr-enn-’ fidence—the fixed and unshakable be- lief that what another has done, with odds evén or sgainst us, we can do.” “You are not a very strong advocate of careers for women, are you?' was asked. *“No. Generally speaking, I am 'nol.l This does not mean that I do not be- lieve in useful occupation. But a careér is a selfish and embitious thing. Placed as a goal, it is apt to discard evérything that does not fur- ther it, to subordinate all of life to the end of success. “And that~wort of success is not worth while. It is lonely. - Fortu- nately, T had my home and children first. Homes are not easily built on careers, but & career may sometimes be built on a home. As a matter of fact, making a home is a career in | itself, and a difficult one. Personally, I would much rather write a novel than struggle with the cook.” «“] guspect the question most often asked you in the matter of career . making is how to write, is it not?” Mary Rinehart laughingly admit- ted that each mail contained at Jeast to reach: | MRS, | THE HARRIS-EWING ARY ROBERTS RINEHART. 5y three requests for advice on that sub- ject. “What I reply is that the only mind at the start. In the character study it is better—and usual—to have way to learn to write is to write and |a theme rather than a plot and to de- write and write—never less than a|velop it through the development of thousand words a day, And then to rewrite and rewrite. every and day. writing twice. I rewrite | and character. I never sold a story | but a cross-section of life. 10 the best magazine until T began re-| I enjoy never send out a!my own life. personality and the clash of motive After all, a story Is The books d writing most were slices of To write, one must live story or a newspaper article today |in the heart of life." that has not been written first in long b From this, the conversation drifted hand, typed. rewritten entirely In|(o the mad pace at which life rushes and oftentimes time. Every long hand, retyped. rewritten the third | by today. Mrs. Rinehart decried the Jazz atmosphere of tea and toddle In sentence, every punctuation mark, as!which some young people are being well as every delineation of charac- | brought up. ter, receives a final polish. “Writing is self-taught. endless ‘patiepce and sel(-deniai “When you sit down to write a 4tory,” the writer interrupted, “have sou the whole thing mapped out in and perseverance sour mind? “Methods differ with the type of story. Roughly speaking, fiction| writing is of two sorts—the story or novel of plot and the one of charac ter. For beginners I always recom- mend trying the first method, since a good plot is a useful crutch for the novice. The character story is of a higher grade and approaches and sometimes reaches to real ture. “In the plot story it is necessary to i “When mothers tell me they can- Tt requires | not keép their daughters at home I do not wonder. Can you call tiny apartments piercing the sky, one on top of the other, homes? “While mothers are invelved in a maze of activities as objectless as the milling of fish in a pond, the homé spirit is dying. We have too many wives and mothers who board at home today. What we need is inten- sive home cultivation. Sometimes I think that we exhausted our small stock of spirituality and idealism in the short two yvears of the war and have none left to go on with. We are becoming a grossly material peo- litera- | ple, and the church has lost some of its hold. It began to lose it when it ceased to preach of punishment for have the skeleton of the plot well in' sin, for, although it sounds a cynical {jEuropean “Tipping” Ways NICE. March 9, 1922, HIS year the writer finds the old crusade against tipping—and for it—hotter than ever. Mean- while tipping goes on just as it did when the French Academy de- fined it “a gratification over and abbve wages.” Just now the syndi- cate of hotel, cafe and restaurant workers demands the total suppres- sion and payment of fixed wages In- stead. The Swiss hotel keepers agree and propose an addition of 15 per cent to every customer's bill for the purpose. The French chamber of hotel keepers opposes this on the ground—“Our interest and our guests’ interest demand these extra gratifi- cations should be kept up—otherwise waiters, for example, would take no interest in good personal service, since they will be paid just the same, anyway.” fThe French add, with a knowledge of their own and Ameri- can human nature, “Tipping would go on just the same als Here is one of the season’s stories told by a Frenchman. He had stop- ped his runabout at a crossroads tav- ern, where the landlord twith his apron on served him. A beautiful au- tomobile drove up with a party of Americans. They seemed very well pleased with the Norman cooking-and paid their bill without remarks. But before they rose to go away the inn- keeper rushed to the Frenchman and asked excitedly, “Who are those peo- ple? I charged them 80 francs, and they have given the ‘bonne’ who waited on them 40 francs. Blan't I charge them enough?” One of the Americans came up and sald, “That old brandy you gave us was very good. Won't you sell me a bottle?” The incensed Innkeeper drew him- self up. “Yes, but it's very dear.” “How much?" asked the Amerlcan. “One hundred thousand francs,” shouted the innkeeper, who could not get over the tip. Mommsen, the German historian, when he was preparing a new edi- tion of his learned book in the Paris libraries before the war, one day re- marked, “I never would have thought your Paris cabmen cared so little for money. I had one all the morning, and when I paid him I threw In two cents for a fip and he threw it back.” These are the two extremes. An old waiter in the expensive Hotel Quirinal at Rome told me: “Ameri- cans often give big tips, but they are so irregulat that we prefer European guests, who may give less but re- member every one who has waited on T them.” My boots boy at the Hotel: tipping. | Eden, in Zurich, told me the same: “Last week there was an American family of four here. It rained and each one of them left out for me to clean at least two pairs of shoes a day. After a week they went away and gave the chambermaid 27 francs and did not even look at me.” This also may be an extreme case of travelers brought up not to think of those who wait on them, and who are all at sea when they have to tip. My own experience this season at Nice, which, as usual, is full of Americans, is that very good service can be made sure by any one who treats those who wait on him like human beings—that is, who pays enough attention to recognize their faces, and gives even moderate tips to those he recognizes or knos's to have served him. Such a one will very probably get throygh well under the 10 or 12 per cent ¢f his bills it is now proposed the landlord should collect to take the place of tipping. Take, for example, your morning breakfast, which is regularly served in your room. Whether you have coffee hot or only lukewarm will de- pend on -an overworked waiter who has to run up to any number of other rooms with breakfast trays. If he feels that you appreciate extra care on his part to ‘'satisfy you, then you will usually be satisfled—and you show your appreciation by your tips or “gratifications” to him personally. For three persons paying 60 francs a day aplece, inclusive (about $4), and served together, a tip of 1 franc a day for the three to the breakfast server, If regular, will do the job. Hot coffee for three is worth 8 cents, surely. > I have just sympathized with a much-traveled American Army lady, who tells me she always gets poorly served. I do not wonder. Spasmodi- cally she does now and then tip right and left without much attention to! whom or for what she tips, and nat- urally those who stand and wait and get nothing lose all interest in her. That . has been ' my experlence in America also, and there the minute service of European hotels is not éx- pected. 1 Three big American hotel men have been exciting curiosity in a Nice palace hotel. One said, “The service is 99 per cent good,” This may mean that he knew how to tip or the wait- ers were primed beforehand. I al- ways find it so, and I do not believe any combination with percentages on hotel bills will make things: better— or exempt me from the jdyful act of STERLING HEILIG, SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, doctrine, more people kept good by fear than by love. “In addition to this relaxation of the old moril creed and the substi- tution for it of a code of manners, we find that the commerclal value of youth has recently been realized. We are selllng our young people to the makers of exotic and extravagant clothing, -to the bootleggers, to the roadhouse proprietors and to the jazz musicians. And they resell them at enormous profit. 1 do not blame youth, but I do blame. the exploiters of that youth. “The plain truth is that we have allowed outsiders to usurp the func- |tions of the home, and I do not know how we can get back. Per- haps this young generation, realizing later on the falsity of today's values, may exercise more care and place more restraints on their children. But we cannot get away from the fact that an entire generation does not become pleasure-seeking and ex- travagant overnight. “It is the very early vears of life that form character, and that puts a large part of the responsibility back precisely where it belongs—to the failufe of the home In childhood. Nothing can be done by the mother who says that she cannot do anything with her grown daughter, or the father who goes into blind anger over his son. They are vears too late. The reform may come, but it doas not | come from within, but from without —by tardy restraints, by laws which | may or may not be effective, like pro- hibition; bypub lic opinion—some- times by a traglc lesson.” That Mrs. Rinehart is a family woman, and the Rinehart family a close home combination, needs no telling here. Their attractive country home, just outside Pittsburgh, hever suffered lor a moment from Mrs. Rinehart's success. To this day she never allows her work to interfere with the family life. When the three boys grew up and went off to school no lure was ever as strong‘as home. Vacation periods were preferably spent there or with Mrs. Rinehart and the head of the house adventure- seeking in the big outdoors—cross- country riding. mountain climbing, bear hunting, shooting rapids or fish- ing. On a table in the living-room Mrs Rinehart has enshrined the family. Tn a silver frame stands the head of the house, ‘int_uniform, surrounded by pic- tures of three strapping sons. The eldest, who married the daughter of bis mother's publisher—said to be the heroine of Mrs. Rinehart's sub-deb storles—is mow thg head of his own house. On the writing desk is a fascinating picture of the newest addition, who smiles down at her youthful and dis- tinguished grandmother every morn- ing as she opens her daily mail—hun- dreds of letters, from stage-struck girls and girls who want to go Into the movies, fathers and mothers ask- ing advice on family affairs, people who want to sell her the story of their_lives, requests for her photo- graph from the Philippines and Cuba, where her moving pictures are being shown and the impression seems to prevail that the author is the heroine of the story. How Mrs. Rinehart manages to dictate replies to all these letters, accept a few invitations, sit for her portrait, give of herself and her money, and yet neglectsneither her work nor her family, which also in- cludes an invalid mother in Washing- ton, is because she has learned to arrange and systematize her time. For her, as for others, that is the secret of success. Spiders as Workmen. ¥ England thefe is a large factory that produces surveying instru- ments, and of the workmen there it is no exaggeration to say that the spiders are most indispensable. It is their duty to spin the delicate thread used for the cross hairs that mark the exact center of the object lens in the surveyvor's telescope. Spider web is the only suitable ma- terial yet discovered for the cross hairs of surveying instruments. Al- though this fiber is almost invisible to the naked eye, the powerful lenses of the telescope magnify it to the size of & man’s thumb. Human hair when magnified in the same way has the apparent dimensions of a rough- hewn lamp post. Moreover, human halr is transparent and cross hairs must be opaque. The spiders produce during a two- month spinning season thousands of yards of web, which is wound upon metal frames and stored away until needed. A spider “at work” dangles in the air by its invisible thread, the upper end of which is attached to a metal wire frame whirled in the hands of a girl. The girl first places the spider on her hand until the pro- truding end of the thread has become attached. When the spider attempts to leap to the ground she quickly at- taches the thread tuv the center of the whirling frame, and as the spider pays out his web she wraps it round the frame: At one“time she removes from & spjder several hyndred feet of thread. The spiders are kept in a large room under the supervision of three girls and a forewoman. When the little workmen are not spinning they live in a -large wooden cage. Flies are their chief article of diet. Dur- ing the winter months the spider colony usually dies and an entirely new crop of workmen must be re- crulfed. Not every spider will do— only .large, fat fellows that spin a tough, round thread will suffice. The girls in charge of the spiders are not in the least afraid of them. On the contrary, they regard them as pets, can tell them apart, and often call them by nicknames that humor- ously describe their appearance or their péculiar habits of work. Origin of Mine Gas. N interesting suggestion has been oftered concerning the source of the explosive gases In coal mines and the cause of their variation in quantity. In mining districts, it is pointed out, the eartR's crust is al- ways on the move, owing to the.ad- vance of the workings. Both above and below the seam that is being worked the rock strata are strained and rent by the removal of their sup- port. 'Thus fissures are formed, and the imprisoned gas finds a way of escape into the galleries. Before its liberation it is probable that the fire- damp I8 under considerable pressure in its zocky prison, ° - \ BY STERLING HEILIG. NICE AND MONTE CARLO, MiTch 8, 192 T the Casino of Nice an Amer- ican millionaire approached the tables and at once called banco! He won, gathered up his winnings, rose solemnly and walked to the bar. All who followed the tables last month khow the ad- venture. The millionaire is well known at home, but for obvious rea- sons I shall not give his name. At the bar he took a full glass of the baccarat he plunged Again he won—and again marched solemnly to the bar, repeating his ceremony. doings. In fact, many frequent the rooms to watch the heavy interna- tional play rather than to make their own moderate bets. The American continued plunging and by some strange fortune faver- ing such as he continued winning— and repeated éach time his ceremonl« ous visit to the bar. monumentally solemn, he, rose; cashed in 240,000 Pranics’ winnings and moved severely out of the place. At his hotel it was not noticed whether he came in for the night People go on excursions and do nok always give notice. But thd story of {his winnings got abroad and when nothing was seen of him for a couple of days, anxiety was felt. Men whis- “Mr. B—, the American mil- , has been knocked on the His room door was locked and the hotel pass key would not turn. Fi- nally the police were summoned to break in legally and learn the worst. Just as the carpenter was getting the door off a terrible voice Msued from the interior: “What kind of a hotel is this that will not let folks have their sleep omt!" And the millionaire, like a giant refreshed, appeared in person. He has now left Nice for Monte Carlo. * K k% N January the son of an Amster- dam jeweler set out to see the world with 800,000 francs' worth of his father's stock. At Brussels he took on a former’schoolmate, son of another rich Dutch diamond mer- chant, and the two bought yckets for Spain.. When their ready money gave out they prudently realized on a pearl necklace first, then a platinum ring with a fine diamond—Willy Cats al- ways making the sale. Meanwhile the Amsterdam boy's uncle (great man in the corporation. known internationally) had rushed to Paris. got on the trace of certain jewels coming up from the south of France to Paris for re-sale. The trace led to Spain. So he left for Spain. But the birds had flown. He heard of the boys' doing in pal- ace hotels and dancing teas, but he had to wait for more jewels which he could recognize to come up to the clearing house of Paris in order to get a new line on them. He had not long to wait. Genoa, Turin and Mi- lan were heard from, and then the trail seemed cut. Detectives could only advise watchful waiting. As a fact, the two young men had separated. Their cash was spent and they found ITtaly a poor market. So ‘Willy Cats took a train for Nice, with five necklaces and several rings, worth altogether from 160,000 to 180,000 francs at a fair sale. They were business boys and knew values. Now, these Riviera towns are full of purchasing jewelers with fine establishments and unlimited capital, to glean a rich harvest of legitimate- 1y owned precious stones which folks from all over the world are forced to sell when they lose more heavily than they had foreseen at the public gambling tables. So Willy Cats soon sold—and sold well—enough of his friend's stuff to put about 150,000 francs into his pocket. And here also is another thing about the Riviera—flowery lotus land. It really does make folks forget! Traveling over France, Spain, Italy, Willy Cats had been as true as steel to his pal, Samuel. But at Nice he money, but made straight for the money, but made straightf or the casinos. At their gambling tables he promptly lost his wad—the big sums at baccarat and (to get quick action pin between times) a tidy sum total iat the humble game of “boule,” whose rake-oft for the establishment is 20 per cent. How any man.in his senses can lose (as Willy Cats did) 16,000 francs at such an obviously disadvantageous game as “boule” simply staggers the imagination. (It is a tabloid rou- lette, with only nine numbers, 1, 2, 3, 4,6, 6 7. 8 9, repeated around the wheel, of which the “5” serves as the ro,”" sweeping the layout of )] The limit is 20 franes “to keep ‘lit- tle’ people from plunging too high).” but, of course, you can string & num- ber of such 20-franc bets all over the board if you are fool enough to do so. It i1s a little gold mine for all but the public, because—observe—when Willy Cats’ last cent was gone he still managed to borrow from %@ croubier (employe who rakes in and pays off) some 1,500 francs, giving two rings which he had remaining as security. In reality the rings were worth only about 500 francs—Willy Cats had misrepresented - silver settings as platinum. And just here (and here only) Willy Cats fell under the law. In trath, Willy Cats was held at Nice under a trumped-up charge which would horrify & higher French magistrate by its technical .injustice. Concerning all the jewels which he ggain. had sold, he had regeived them from his friend Samuel without becoming a “receiver’—because & Son’' cannot steal from his father.under European Jaw. Nothing bejng stolen, Willy Cats could not be a receiver of stolen goods, could he? It is plain. But private pawning (to the crowpler) is «“j]legal”— and, If it isn’'t, why mis- representing silver for platinum surely is. They uséd it anyhow, to hold Willy. Because the despalring uncle was oh the spot. While waiting in Paris he had been notified by a Paris jew- eler: “I.have some of yotir lost jew- els, which have béeri bought at Nice from a certain Willy Cats.” At Nice the jeweler said, “I bought three nocklaces from Willy Cats, and if you t to see him you had better. wait, wan! for hé is coming back at 3 o'clock for a small balance which I owe him on them.” - Sure enough, Willy appeared, was taken up and confessed everything. The poor 1ad did no€ know his rights thellow Scotch, and then returning to |’ again. |. By this time all were alive to his{ At last, whent” D. C, MARCH 19, 1822—PART 4% MARY ROBERTS RINEHART, NOVELIST, TELLS|MONTE CARLO FURNISHES MANY TRAGIC A;n sterdam TERLING HEILIG, The Sunday Star's Special Correspondent, Writing From the Riviera, Tells the Strange Story of An American Millionaite—The Two Lads From and Their Jewels—A Piano Teacher, With Only a Single Five-Frane Piece, Wins Thousands—The British Cap- tain, and the Officer of a Warship Who Threat- | ened to Blow the Gambling Casino to Bits. SUICIDES. TRIGGER. ‘or he would have employed a lawyer to get him off with flying colors—and perhaps some welcome cash. But Wiily had just 30 cents in pocket and owed a whopping hotel bill. He wept and agreed to sell the last thing he had—he agreed to sell his friend. Samuel was cooling his heels in Italy The important thing was to lay hands on him—and the 500,000 franecs’ worth of jewels, more or less, which he still held, less what he might be selling for daily bread. Willy Cats agreed to send a decoy telegram, which brought Samuel swiftly to Nice. And then began complications which do not concern gambling. For who could be prosecuted? No- body! Not Samuel, for in continental law a father cannot prosecute his son for theft. Not Willy, who had re- ceived clean jewels from Samuel— jewels which could not have been stolen. So they called it a day and sent the young folks home. “I'm glad they were business boys enough,” said the uncle, “to have sold every object at fair prices, sacrificing nothing!” * ¥ %k X MRS WANDA BARNETT, Riviera DL cofrespondent of a Chicago newspaper, has a modest protege, a teacher of the piano, guitar, etc., wkom everybody knows and respects as “Mme. Louise.” Mme. Louise lives at Monte Carlo, the cheapest place as well as the dearest place in Europe, if you want to live cheap. Mme. Louise wandered in the splendid gambling halls of Monte Carlo. Everybody does it. Folks go there to chat and ses celebritics. On this occasion madame had just 4 francs 90 in her pocket. If she had 2 sous more it would make a 5-franc bill—thé lowest sum that you can risk. And who knows what fabulous sum 2 G-franc bill, with luck, may win? She borrowed a copper cent and bought a 5-franc chip. Every one is talking about it Luck wés with the poor piano teach- er. From table to table she aston- ished all by her incredible runs of luck. Her old black handbag' was packed with 'Monte Carlo chips, as good as gold. \ She retired to a ladies’ parlor to count up. She had 172,000 francs and found it handsome. “It will aid my declining years,” she whispered to herself, “and I can make a trip around the world.” But she entered the gambling halls Here comes the part they talk about. “Don't risk another cent,” her friends advised. ‘“Now is |fl|a time to run!” She did not listen. Something Inrged the gentle maiden lady to sit tin an empty chair at roulette No, 4. i The chips were in her handbag still. Isn, played 1,000 francs on red. And won! She played 1,000 francs oh the first dosen and pulled down 3,000 francs more winnings. In two hours more she had won 145,000 francs in addl~ tion to her first 172,000—and oniy stopped because it was getting past the dinner hour at her boardini house. “My goodness” she said, “my @it~ ner is paid for and Tl lose it if I don’t cash in and hurry!” * K KK CAPTAIN of thé Britich army was impressed by this play on the dosens. It is oné chance in three and pays two for one. “It's just as easy to win two for find Any 686 AmOng thons friends who “HE HAD HIS ORDNANCE REVOLVER WITH HIM. IN THE MOONLIGHT, HE MEDITATED ON HE RAISED HIS WEAPON, BUT HE DID NOT PULL THE ‘WANDERING ALL THE STORIES OF one on them.” he sald, luck to do it—and if you can't win anywhere.” He put 100 francs on the last dozén. it won. and won again. which in a week put 480,000 francs in his pocket. He had it safe In Cox’s Bank and bought a circular tour of the Medit- erranean on the Cunard line, whose big transatlantic boats stop at Mo- naco. Here was a2 man who had won out. He was cool, tranquil, had ar- ranged everything. He had bought a letter of credit and (not to waste too much on his trip) left 250,000 francs at Cox's at 21; per cent, pend- ing the purchase of French war bonds or whatever. The day before the Caronia was due at Monaco, the captain stood himself a farewell dinner at the Ho- tel de Paris. Now, nothing starts up optimism like a good dinner at the Hotel de Paris, and the captain, who was leaving in the morning, felt so kindly disposed to the casino that he was willing to lose 100 francs or so to say good-bye. Can you guess what happened? Just like Mme: Louise? Not so. The captain lost his cash. He negotiated and lost his 250,000 francs in bank. “And, by Jove” he sald, as he rushed to the boat, “the letter of credit would have gone but for this bally good old packet. Me for Egypt!” \/ HERE such masses play con- tinually at public tables there are naturally great quantities of win- ners as well as losers. But the win- ners are talked about and the losérs forgotten. The most recent case of bad luck at the casino of Nice In- volves the hazards of the Russian revolution and the solidarity of in- ternational nobility. A big Nice hotel complained to the magistrate that a man calling him- self Lord Wellesley (the family of the Duke of Wellington) had run up a large bill and professed to be un- able to pay. To the judge he ex- plained himself as follows: “It is true that I am not Lord ‘Wellesley,” he said, “but my mether was the daughter of the late peer that hame. I am Prince Obolensky of Russia, and this name and title aré on all my visiting cards, but you ean understand why, in the present condition of Russian nobles, whom the bolshevists oblige te live In exile, I did fiot care to register under my own title. “During the war,” he continued, “I s¢rved at the front with the British atmy until I was sent to a London hokpital, which I was not able to leave until 1920. Since then my mothéer has béen able_to give me 15,000 francs a year. It I8 not much, and 8o I came to Nice With my year's allowanoe, which I had jyst réesived, and 10,000 francs other mohéy from the sale of certain jewels te try to better my fortunes at the public gAmbling tables. I am not a spend- thrift, and when I arrived here I had 29,000 francs cash. ? “The casino has taken it all” he concluded. “Sqme of my friends here eheolifaged me to continue by prom- ising to lend me money, should I need it, until fortune shéuld turn. Here are their names.” ! But the magistrate tried in vain to * ok ¥ ¥ | francs. h s even monéy | hammering. on the simple chances if you havé the | magnetism of rails have been made vou haven't|and have brought to light some facis He let his 300 franes lie—| magnetic field steel rails subjected to. It was the start of | mechanical 2 long series of similar lucky plays, | nent magnetization. would go ‘security for that rather large hote! bill Like Willy Cats, the technicality on which they b him for a few days was most filmsy —that of using his mother's family name at the hotel. Now, he is out on honor, as the noble English fam- ily Is arranging to square up. Sk x ko x TOW here is one last rumor. 1 have no desire to he precise and get into trouble. Readers will peruse it with peculiar satisfaction. Since these Rivlera ports have be- come frequented by so many inter- national warships every one can spot & captain or commander in civilian clothes. One such, they say (never mind the nationality), went to Monte Carlo casino as a mere spectator. He had no money to risk and no desire to gamble. But there is a polson in the atmos- phere—so say the losers. And the captain (let us call him) had 50,000 francs of funds intrusted to him for a certain purpose. He played and lost the §0,000 He was difhonored. He came to his senses by moonlight on the terrace. He had his ordnance revolver with him. Wandering in the fairy scene, he thought of all the suicides which he had heard of in these lovely gardens. He raised his weapon, but he did not pull the trigger. Ie had an In- spiration. He sought the administration. Briefly he explained his case. Life held nothing for him, in view of this disgrace. His emotion was real. His confession was painful Yet. meeting but coldness and indifference, he sud- denly changed his tone. Now he was haughty, curt and terrible. “Loss for loss,” he said. “The act | which I shall now commit is of little importance to me. I shall go on board my ship. If in half an hour my 50,000 francs are not brought to me, word of a sailor, I shall blow up your casifio and then blow my brains out.” They might have arrested him/ But Monaco is a tiny state and they dread international complications. They did not arrest him. He went to his warship. Within fifteen minutes a white motor launch was rushing through the moonlight waters toward it. Two civilians mounting on board saw a cannon being pointed. It w. long past midnight, and the casino, white and empty of its lights and. public, stood on the terrace like a great white cream puff. “Kindly verify the sum," they sald theg handed out a package. “Thanks very much; yeés, quite right,” said the captain, counting. “It is 50,000 francs: quite right.” I will not guarantee this stery. Surely the captain never told it—and, surely as surely, not the administra- tion. Magnetism of Railways. THAT the rails on a railroad be- come magnets under the influ- ence of the earth's magnetic field has long been known. Any steel bar held in the direction of magnetic north and south and hammered so as to jolt its molecules will assume a magnetic state. In the case of the rallroad passing trains furnish the necessary Experiments on the of interest. Under the influence of the earth's actions assume perma- The case is the same as with a steel wire or bar, which, being in & magnetic fleld, nat- ural or artificial, becomes magnetized whenever through torsion or tric- tion the elastic limit of the metal is exceeded. . . With reference to' the rails he ex- amined, one engineer offers the fol- lowing observations: Two magneti- zations are simultancously developed in perpendicular directions —one rlohg the length of the rail, the other, in the direction of its height—and these two forces are superposed, one being stronger than the other, ac- cording to circumstances. In fact, a rail in position is affect- ed at once by the horizontal compo- nent and by the vertical component of the earth’s magnetic field; the former tends to develop a longitudinal mag- netigation, the latter a vertical mag- netization, as may be shown by the compass. The longitudinal magnetism is more decided if the rail is in the dh. redtion 6f the magnetic meridigh. B becomes Inserisible with rails WH&S' axis makes an angle of more (NAH thirty degrees with the meridian. The magnetization is ordinarily’ stronger when the rail has been greatly used: that is to say, when it has been laid a long time and sub- jected to mechanical strain that has contributed to modify the molecular structure of the metal. The preceding statements apply to rails that have been taken up. When in place the line of rails with their connections of magnetic metal form, 80 to speak, a single magnetic baf; the magnetism is latent and does not appear until the rails are freed by removing the plates. The case is thé same as with a long bar magnet; the neutral sone, intermediate between the poles, gives mo appearance of magnetism and, nevertheless, when the bar is broken into several pieces all are found to be magnetized. It is only in badly kept roads, where joints are too loose or badly jolned, or ‘where contiguous rails are on sensi- bly different levels, that we can de- tect magnetisation. It is also evident at switches, crossings, etc., and at all points where th is a jolt when & train passes. % ‘When the line is east and west & curious thing occurs. When & com-, pasy 18 held over a joint the mefth pole turns either toward east or wast, but always in the direction in which the trains move when the track is double. This is because the track be- ing at right angles to the magneticy meridian, the horisontal magnetisa-| tion is absent and there is nething to interfere wit the vertical compo- nent. Now, at each joint the end of the rall on which the wheel is éater- ihk 18 always more powerfully ham-| meréd than that which it is and on it is developed more strongiy. the south pble induced by thi vertt- cal component of the earth metism. Ty - ——— With an intimate knowledge of the] lumber Industry on the Pacific col from the redwoods of Californla - the sprucé of Alaska, Miss Grace Crow of Portland, Ore., has the