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v TIMES ENTERPRISE. THOM ASVILLE, GA., JUNE to, 1904. oidenhiicit.nHa WALTER - BLOOMFIELD * CHAPTER XV. TATB1B AMD SOX. ' *0 Ernest, my otyn dear boy, look up and apeak,to me like yourself," aald my father, bolding my hand and looking down upon me with an ex praeelon of deep solicitude upon hla kindly face. I pressed my father’e band and re garded him steadfastly, bnt made no reply, feeling painfully weak and IlL "Please don’t Irritate my patient, Ur. Trueman. With quietude, In a day or two be will bo as well as erer,” said a voice at my side, which I recognised as belonging to Dr. Thurlow. For a few seconds It was difficult to realise my surroundings, familiar though they were. Tea, this was my room, and I was lying In my own bed. That was our housekeeper,'sitting by the dear, low fire; and the sunlight, which the drawn curtains subdued but could not exdude, seemed to denote midday. With a great effort I suddenly sat upright. “Leave me with my father, I cried; ‘‘I want to talk with him." "Not now, not now,” answered the doctor; “another time will do for that Von must rest” "No; now, now!" I exclaimed, with great excitement “Father, send these people away.” "My dear boy, be calm. I know all that you would tell me, undcaro noth ing al)out It My only anxiety la to bagg you well again." "No, no; you do not know. I mutt tell you now." "Ernest, my boy, for my sake don'i excite yourself. I say again, I know all.that you would tell me. For two days and nights you have talked of nothing else.” "Impossible! Two days and two nights! What do you mean?" "I think you bad better withdraw for a few hours, Mr. Trueman.” paid Dr. Thurlow; "your presence disturbs my patient” My father relinquished Us grasp of my hand' and moved reluctantly to wards the door. "Don’t leave me. lather,” I Implored, stretching my arms out towards |ilm and he at once returned to me. “Tell me, what day la this?” "Wednesday.” ’ “Wednesday." I repeated stupidly "Wednesday. My father says to-day Is Wednesday. Then all Is lost,” and I lay back again on my pillow. "Yea, to-day la Wednesday,” corrob- ' orated Dr. Thurlow, gently putting back the hair from my forehead with bis band; "and before Wednesday comes again, I hope to see yon on your P«ty. galloping past my bouse In your usaal style. But you are mistaken in ’ thinking that all Is lost; on the com trary, nothing la lost There have been no thieves here.” A long silence ensued, during which I lay quite still, my face towards my father, who had seated blnmelt by the aide of the fire. That two days and nights bad elapsed since I went down Into tbo crypt extinguished, my last ray of hope of obtaining the sequins, and my normal calmness, to which 1 had been a stranger from the bour of reading my ancestor’s Record, began to reassert Itself. At last the house keeper rose from her ebatr and noise lessly quitted the room. Bhs was soon aftsrwards followed by Dr. Thurlow, who whispered a few words to my father, and then departed on tiptoe. , My wlshed-for opportunity' bad now arrived, but I was careful not to lose It by too great precipitancy, recent events having taught me some policy, and I therefore allowed several min utes to elapse before I spoke. "How was It that I came tb bo beret The last thing I remember la being In the crypt on Monday night, not long after my return from London. What has been the matter with met Don’t fear to tell me. I am nearly, it not quite, well, and It will relieve my mind to know.” “But Dr. Thurlow has lust Impressed upon ma that I am not to talk to you of that; be stya it will distress yon.” "It Is only natural that be should think so; but ho Is wrong. U be only knew what I know, be would not bare given you such advice, gee, I am calm and ratlonaL Do pleasa tell "There le really very Uttle to tell, and It Is hard to refuse you anything. .Yon must not let Dr. Thurlow know that I bare disobeyed him. On Mon day night, or rather very early on Tuesday morning, John cams Into my room In a great fright and woke me np. I thought the old man' was mad, and for a little while In my sleepy state could make nothing of his rapid utterances and violent gesticulations; but at last he got me to understand > had been unable to sleep, hav- : beard strange noises In the bouse 1 induced him to go down stairs 1 If all was right He found tbo the sUUfbom open, and also * which leads to the crypt. man bad the courage to de- Into the crypt where be was 1 find you lying, as be aup- He came up te me, as I I as soon as I could make , I went with him down to you up here. You were bleeding from a wound at the back of your bead, and quite senseless. Everybody In the house was alarmed, and one of the women fetched Dr. Tbnrlow. At first we thought you bad been struck by a burglar; but Dr. Thurlow disproved that by your wound, which be has shown was caused by a fall. Why you went Into the crypt we know; but exactly how you came to fall as you did you must tell us, If yon can, when you get quite, well.” “Why was It I went into the crypt, do you think 1" "We suppose you heard the same noises that old John beard, and went downstairs to ascertain the cause, la strange tbat both of you should be so mistaken. Nobody had broken Into the bouse; all the outer doors were fast, and nothing Is missing. One cir cumstance none of us can understand la bow a certain lantern came to be lying by your side; It belongs to the stable, and I have never known It to be brought Into tho bouse. But I am talking too much; Dr. Thurlow will be hack In a minute and lecture me for disobeying him.” “Your conclusions are as I thought they would be. Has Dr. Thurlow gone borne?" 1 "No; be Is with John.” “Why with John!” “The old man Is very 111; be has not yet recovered from his fright at find ing you as he did.” , "Ah! I have much to tell you which should make 70U angry with me for concealing It from you so long; but you are so good and gentle with your foollsb boy that I don't suppose you wHl be.” 'My Ernest would have togfrhverv differently from anything I have ever known of him to excite my anger,’ 1 declared this best of fathers. "I have nothing to forgive; or, If I have, I for give yon with my whole heart before I know what Is the offense you charge yourself with." At this point our colloquy was Inter rupted by the entry of Dr. Tburlow. He stayed but a very little while, how ever, and having expressed bis satis faction with the condition of both bis patients, and promising to call again In the evening, he took his de parture. As soon os the sound of bis footsteps In the corridor had died away, I resumed the conversation with my father. "Tell die what are the matters } have raved about since that night In the crypt,” I said. "It may be that you know something of what I would’ tell you.” My fatber's face relaxed Into a smile, and his eyes twinkled In a manner pe culiar to him In moments of amuse ment. Ob, we will tell you about tbat In years to come.” What was It I talked about?" asked again. “Many things. I don't remember a tenth of them.” 'Tell me a few that you do remem ber,” I urged. About vast stores of gold coins being stolen from this bouse—about the beauty of your aunt Gertrude'i sister—about the Rev. Mr. Price—and a lot of similar nonsense which I may perhaps recollect more of by-and-by.” “No, father; It was not nonsense I talked about, hut sober fact; though maybe I didn’t know what I was say ing at the time. In very truth, as true as you are listening to my words, you have quite recently been robbed of an immense treasure in gold.” And, raising myself on my elbow, I ac quainted him aa clearly and briefly as I could with the Information I had obtained from Roger Trueman's Rec ord, and of my consequent action and Its result My father, who soon became deeply Interested, suffered me to continue my narrative without Interruption. When bad ceased speaking he made no re mark, but rested his face upon his bands and appeared lost In thought. After waiting some time, and finding that my father exhibited no sign of remarking upon my story, I asked him If he did not now believe that he had been recently robbed of a quarter of million sequins. T believe I have been robbed of so much treasure,” he assented; “but I hope and pray It was not recent." 'Wbat an extraordinary wish!” I exclaimed, astonished. “Surely, the chances of recovering the treasure are much greater If It was lately stolen than they would be If It was taken away years ago.” Do you know, Ernest,” said my father, appearing not to notice my re mark; "your uncle Sam was talking to me about tbat very treasure the first evening you saw him here.” Then It* existence was known to you both?” 'Not exactly. It was known to all his family that Roger Trueman—Roger the Renegade, or Roger the Alchemist, as be was variously called—brought with him from Turkey an Immense treasure of gold and jewels; but none of usevtr knew wbat finally became of then# and for more than a hundred year* nobody has troubled to inquire. But I have always understood that my, great-grandfather spent years In a fruitless search for It, which I suppose baa deterred, his successors from wast ing their time In the same way.” “What was It unde Bam said to yen about the treasure tbs evening I first saw hlmY* “Tbat be believed it was concealed somewhere in Holdenhurat Hall, and might yet be found.” “Then why do you hope that the robbery is not recent?” “Don’t ask me.” exclaimed my father, starting up excitedly; “I hate myself for my present thoughts. Ten me where I will find that old manu script; I will fetch It dhd read It here.” My father walked to the other side of the room and took the book out of a drawer which I had Indicated. I had never seen him so strangely moved before. That he should be disturbed by the Information just imparted , to blm was only wbat I had expected; nevertheless his reception of my rev elation surprised me. Though greatly concerned with the matter, and evi dently considering all I had said. It was plain tbat measures for the rccov-. cry of the sequins engaged very little of his attention; but I refrained for the present from remarking on that cir cumstance, and remained still and quiet while be sat-by my bed and read his ancestor's Record. At last be laid aside the book with a sigh, and rising from his chair paced about the room thoughtfully. After some minutes he suddenly paused before me, saying— “I wish yon were well enough to ac company me to tbe crypt” I assured my father of my ability to do so without danger or even Incon venience, and was about to get up when he stopped me. 'Not until Dr. Tburlow bas seen you again, and then only with his con sent.” 'What nonsensef I exclaimed, Springing out of bed: “Because I bare been disappointed and bare knocked my head on a stone pavement yon want to make an invalid of me. Surely two days la enough to spend In bed talking nonsense, especially at such a time as tbls, when there Is so much to do and consider;” and despite my father’s protests I hastened to dress myself, assuming a smile and talking cheerfully all tbe while. But the per formance cost me a tremendous effort, for I felt wretchedly weak and 111. Well. I suppose It must be so. then.” consented.my father, when he per ceived tbat my obstinacy was not to be overcome; “It will be best to make a careful examination of tbe place before your uncle comes.” “Before my undo comes!" I ecboed. Is uncle Bam coming?” ,• “Yes; to-morrow morning. I tele graphed to him yesterday. Informing him of your accident, and he replied that he would come down on Thurs day.” Ab!” I said, “be little knows what a story we have to tell him.” I bope be does not, I am sure,” said my father sadly. "How - strangely you talk, father! Surely you don’t mean to Imply tbat your brother has directly or Indirect ly stolen those sequins out of your house! I would stake my life upon uncle Sam's honor; and as for bis wealth, liberality and ability, you would not easily match them in an other man.” To my Inexpressible surprise and pain, my father Ignored my question, merely remarking that he hoped no hirm might come of my going down Into the crypt, and that I must certain ly be back Ip my room again before Dr. Thurlow returned. It was an hour past noon when we entered tbe crypt, my father walking flrst holding a lamp, for the place was as dark by day as by night. After pausing for a moment to observe a crimson stain which marked tho spot where I bad fallen, we proceeded at once to the Abbot's Cell—for my father, when he assisted In bringing me np out of the crypt, and again when he Went there with Dr. Thur low to explain to him la what cir cumstances I had been found, had not penetrated ao far. The crypt’s 'tore of surprises was not yet exhausted, whatever might be the case with its sequins, for walk ing up to the Abbot's Cell I saw with astonishment that It was closed by tbe brick screen as when my attention was flrst called to It The bricks bad been carefully replaced one upon an other precisely as I had found them on Monday night, or If there was any difference, they were built up some what more neatly; for notwithstand ing the aid of my father. It took longer to effect an entry Into the cell than when I was unassisted. On reaching the interior we found that the candle and matches had been taken away, and the empty chest upon which I had seen them vas placed with tbe other empty chests. AU else in the cell was unchanged. My father spoke few words during this Investigation, and appeared great ly depressed, though, so far as I could make out he cared but little for the lose he bad sustained. He agreed with me (for Indeed the evidences of It were undeniable) that the contents of the chests bad been abstracted quite recently—probably only a few days before. We left the crypt as we had entered It, my father locking the door after him and putting the key Into his pocket. Coming out of tbe stillroom Into the hall we noticed that tbe front door was opened ss widely os possible and that eight strong men were with much difficulty bringing in upon rollers an Immense steel safe of enormous weight tbe secure receptacle for our family papers which uncle ««m had promised to my father. To bo continued. A DISCIPLINE TEST. NGLISH annals show many fine examples of discipline In disaster at sea, and both tbe army and tbe navy share in the credit of them. Most persons remember the magnificent courage and coolness dis played by tbe men of the Ill-fated Vic toria, which was rammed by the Cam perdown In 1803. Many . remember, too, how tbe model of tbe vessel at tbe World's Fair In Chicago was draped with black when tbe news came, and how for long afterwards tbe great crowds of Americans tbat filed by talked little and gased gravely, the women often with dim eyes, In tribute to the tragic and noble page newly written In the history of the mother race. Lord Wolseley, In his recent au- tohlgrnphy, tells how be once came near sharing such a fate with bis men on board the Transit, bound for India, when sbe struck a rock In a dead calm. He was a young lieutenant tben, but his vivid recollection of the event has not waned In nearly half a century. “The bugles sounded our regimental call, and we nil ran down to our men, who were still below, cleaning up after their breakfast. All the troops were carried on the main deck except one company, which was on the deck be low ond situated well forward. It was a horrible quarter, below tbe Water level, and lit only by one solitary can dle astern. Each company took It for a week In turn, and It was my com pany’s luck to be the unfortunate oc cupants when the ship struck. Upon reaching that dreadful lower region, I formed tbe men, half on one side, half on the opposite side of the deck. “There we stood In deadly silence, and I know not for bow long. Tbe abominable candle In the lantern splat tered and went out. We were In al most absolute darkness, our only glim mer of light coming through a small hatchway which was reached by a narrow Indder. The ship began to sink by the stern, so It was evident to all that we bung on a rock forward. The angle of our deck with the sea level became gradually greater until at last we had to hold on to the sides of our dark submarine prison. My predomln- ant feeling was of horrid repugnance to the possibility, which became tbe probability, of being drowned In the dark, like n rat In a trap. I should have liked to have a swim for my life at the last, the supreme moment; but that would be Impossible, If the abom inable ship should slip off tbe rock. 'If Greece must perish, I Thy will obey, But let me perish In the face of day.' “The only aperture to the main deck was very small, and most eyes were kept riveted upon It. I am sure every man now alive who was there must shudder as he thinks of what seemed to us the Intermediate time wo were in that pit. Every minute seemed an hour; hut at last a face appeared at tbe aperture, and we were ordered on deek.” All found refuge on a coral Island, whence In due time another vessel carried them to their destination; and the future field marshal proceeded with lighter kit, but the richer for a precious experience In tbe value of dis cipline. SAVED BY INSUBORDINATION. Reuben PlnUhnm, n native of Nan tucket, made his flrst trip as third lien, tenant on the ship rotomac, which crossed the North Pacific, a region little known to naval vessels In the early thirties. Plnkham had been on several whaling vessels, nnd was familiar with thoso waters. The author of “The Isl- nnd of Nantucket” saya that one day, near sunset, he hod the watch, while the commodore was pacing up and down the deck. Suddenly Plnkham gave the order, “Man the weather braces!” -“What’s that for?” asked the com modore. "Wo shall have wind In a moment." The commodore went to the lee roll end scanned the sea and sky. “I see no signs of wind,” he returned. .“Let the men leave the braces.” The crew dropped the ropes. “Keep hold of the braces, every man of you!" called out Plnkham, and tbe men resumed their grasp. The com modore flushed with anger and ex- dnlmcd In peremptory tones: “Let the men leave the braces!’.' -and again the braces were dropped. “Don’t any of yon dare to drop tbe ropes!” shouted Plnkham, shaking bis trumpet at the crew, who once more took hold. Just tben the wind dropped entirely; not a breath stirred. “Taut, taut! Haul, all of you.”’ called Plnkham, and the ponderous yards swung to reversed position. The wind came out of the opposite quarter and struck the ship like a sledge-hammer. The vessel staggered, shook the spray from her bows and dashed ahead. The commodore disappeared Into his cabin without saying a word. Presently he sent tbe first lieutenant to relieve Plnkham, requesting to see the latter Immediately. When Plnk ham entered tbe cabin the commodore said: “I consider that I am Indebted to you for all our lives; but I will tell you frankly. If that wind hadn't come I should have put you in Irons in two minutes.” THE VALOR OF BOYS. The Confederate “Boy Company,” moat members of which were so young ao to require the permission of their parents In order to enlist, bears a brave record in tbe annals of tbe Civil War. At first, camp life seemed a new and exciting game to the young fellows, who even found drilling-enjoyable. Later, when their eyes were opened to tbe sternest side of war, when their numbers were lessened and their strength weakened, they carried to the battlefield tbe same boyish enthusiasm, and fought for their losing cause with thk same courage and ardor that had marked their entrance into tbe service. From tbe camp at Manassas, the night before their flrst battle, they sent a message to General Lee: "Tell Uncle Robert not to forget our battalion to-morrow!” The battalion was not forgotten and It fought plucklly and well. After the Battle of Bharpsburg Gen eral Lee reviewed the Boy Company. Its ranks were broken and wearied, and many names were missing from the roll call. Since the bantering mes sage of Manasaas the youthful soldiers bad learned the meaning of war; they had taken part In fierce bloodshed, and seen their friends and comrades fall beside them. They were tired from long marches and privations, and the General's eye moistened as be looked at the slender forms arrayed before blm. 'Boys,” he said, "you are only boys, but to-day you have been wbere only men dare to got Now every man of yon who la willing to return to the battlefield step two paces forward.” Without a moment's hesitation and as if moved by one Impulse, tbe young ranks stepped forward. Tbe Boy Com pany, no longer excited by tbe romance of war, but understanding well wbat It was taking upon Itself, had responded 1 body to the General’s calL— Youth’s Companion. BESIEGED BY RATS. A story which recalls Bishop Hatto and bis round tower Is told, by a- cor respondent of tbe New York Press. A Mr. Hardy bad purchased au old slaughter house In a New Jersey town with the Intention of converting It Into a machine shop. He went to the place to make some repairs, and was there when a heavy storm arose. Busy with bis work on the ground floor of tbe building be paid little heed to tbe storm. Presently he saw a big rat scurry across the floor from a cel larway. This rat was followed by an other and another, and tben they came In droves. Investigation revealed the fact that the flood waters were rnnnlng into the cellar, and the rats were seek ing safety. ' . Suddenly the man realised that the room was alive with rats. They poured up the stairway, clambering over one another In their attempt to escape from the wafer, and squealing noisily. Some attacked Mr. Hardy and bit bla feet and ankles. He seised an Iron shovel which lay on tbe floor, and began to lay about him. If be desisted the rate returned to the attack. Tired of bis fight, he then tried to leave the house, but to bis dismay found the water was deep around It. With difficulty he beat the rats away and leaped to a stairway leading to a top floor. When he reached tbe story above be found the rats were there be. fore him. Hq killed a score or more and then stood at tbe head of tbe stair way and beat back the horde tbat tried to come up. “It was my life or theirs,” said Mr. Hardy, "and I kilted rats till my strength was exhausted.” For several hours he was a prisoner. Then the flood receded somewhat with the tide, and he went down stabs, ran through the room wbere the rats were still scurrying about In great numbers, and got away through water up to bis waist UN INTELLIGENT COAT. FOUGHT FOR LIFE ON A ROOF. A desperate struggle took place upon the roof of the Agnews Insane Asylum, San Jose, Cal., between Charles M. Gardener, a patient, and J. Spaulding, an attendant For a time It looked as thought the men would roll to the ground, live stories below. To save himself from a frightful death, Spauld ing was obliged to knock Gardener un conscious. As the attendants came from dinner Gardener was seen stand ing upon tbe roof of the asylum evi dently about to descend the Are escape. The patient had escaped from his room. Spaulding went up to take Gardener down. Gardener refused to descend and grappled with Spaulding. Tbe In sane man tried to throw Spaulding from the roof. When Spaulding saw he could not handle tbe man and was about to fall he struck Gardener a blow over the eye, rendering him uncon scious. Ropes and pulleys were se cured and Gardener was lowered through a trapdoor In the roof to the floor below. Gardener was formerly a deputy sheriff of the county and later served In the same capacity In the State of Washington. He was one of the posse that ran down Tracy, the outlaw. Gardener Is supposed to hare fired the shot which wounded tbe out law and which caused tbe latter to commit suicide. John Dudley, manager of the sheep yards In Morris, ten miles west of Kan sas City, on the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway, uses a goat as a bell wether that Is known by all tho train crews from the Missouri River to La: Junta. BUI la the name of the animal, and be does work that two men and a tribe of boys could not perform. If a car of sheep Is to be unloaded Bill Is sent In to lead them out. The door Is opened and be crowds his way In among the blinking sheep. Slowly, and without creating any excitement, he makes hla way along the walls of the car. The Inquisitive sheep follow In his wake. Along the side of the car to the end, and along that wall he makes his way, and so on until he gets back to the door, where he makes bis egress, the sheep following. By his leadership a procession Is formed, and within three minutes the car is empty. When it is desired to load a car Bill Is sent luto the pen. “Go in there, Bill," is the command given. Into the car he goes and soon both decks are loaded, first one and then the other. It Is a trick to get out without the sheep following, but BUI Is “onto” bis Job. nnd at the proper moment be jumps through a narrow opening left for him, and an attendant quickly shuts tbe door after him. During tbe flood Bill nearly Iosi bis Ufe. He was put Into the lower deck of a sheep car. The flood was soon up to that level, and Mr. Dudley lifted him into the top deck. Still the waters rose. Tbe end of a big log floated Into the upper deck, where Bill Stood up to his shoulders In water. He thought the log was something to walk on and he made the venture, only to be tilted by bis own weight into the water. “Get In there, Bill,” commanded his friend Dudley, who was coming in a skiff, and Bill scrambled bnck. After ward be was taken Into the skill nnd carried to dry land. — Kansas City Times. Wants Birds of Prey. A London ornithologist bns a plan for getting rid of the overabundance of pigeons that brood in the tops of public buildings In that city. He thinks It cruel to trap or shot them, so he would reinstate In the parks of London the once numerous kite, or, as he Is called In the north, "the put- tock.” Once this hlrd was quite com mon about Covent Garden nnd If he could be Induced to return he would tbln out the pigeons and at the same time afford Londoners an opportuni ty for observing a display of natural falconry that would be a novelty. The ornithologist would also have jays nnd magpies rehabilitated,. so that they might keep down tbe sparrows nnd other small birds tbat threaten to be come a nuisance. PLUCKY ALPINIST. The Frankfurt Alpinist, Hugo My- Uus, who made winter ascents last year of two of the most dangerous nnd difficult Swiss mountains—the Fins- teraarborn and the Jungfrau—succeed ed, a few weeks ago. In reaching the summit of Mont Blanc (15.78t feet). *lth three guides, but at the cost of one of his feet and a finger. Up to an altitude of 14,170 feet skis were used; thence the ascent was on Ice, and so difficult that tbe party bad to stop to rest every two or three steps. The top was reached at S p. m„ but It was so cold tbat the party remained only fifteen minutes. A O.p la the laagaegv. "I have another complaint against the English tongue," began the Liter ary Man. ‘There are a good many gaps in It, of course, but It seems to me tbat tbe most absurd Is that a lan guage which has a dozen current names for drink bas none for .the young woman whom a man Is engaged to marry. Most of the terms that might be suggested are the basest of coin — ‘best girl,’ ‘Intended,’ aud so forth! We have to fall back weakly on the French fiancee. And yet the relation Is English and American enough, I think, for us to have a word of our own. Of course, there Is ‘sweetheart,’ but that seems to linve dropped out of use altogether.”—Phila delphia Press.- VpblU Walk For Health. The best way to get oxygen Into the blood Is to walk a mile uphill two or three times a day, keeping the mouth closed and expanding the nos trils. This beats all other methods. During such a walk every drop of blood In the body will make the cir cuit of the lungs nnd stream, red and pure, back to Its appointed work of cleansing the repairing worn-out tis sues. The uphill walk, as a prophy lactic and curative measure in many chronic ailments dependent upon n weak condition of the heart, lungs ond blood vessels, would prove Inval uable. Medical Brief. Rand Miners. Sir Gorfrey Langdon, South African commissioner for native affairs, re cently stated before the legislative council that the native miners on the Rand were “as comfortable and well- looked after as the miners in Cumber land or in any part of England.” Sir George Farrar, commissioner for nn- tlve affairs in the Transvaal, reports to tbe legislative council that the na tive mortality in the Rand mines from November, 1902, to July, 1003, was 70.0 per thousand. Honduras Draft Animals. Draft animals In Honduras are mules, asses, oxen and horses. These animals are all of a diminutive tyjfe and serve very well for the carrying of freight, but for the purpose of hauling carriages and wagons these little beasts scarcely do; and yet they carry packs of 200 pounds over the mountain trails and through roaring streams. OsKsa OparaUrcs. There are more than 17,000 machine tending operatives In Lowell, Mass* earing tor 838,000 spindles and earn- 1®* «T«r *500.000 a month la wage*. .Town Built Over a Coal Mina. Many buildings In Motherwell, Scot land, look like the leaning tower of Pisa. The little town la built over the side of a coal mine. Some houses have collapsed, business la at a stand still, and the town will probably soon be deserted. Army Maneuvers by Ball! During tbe German army maneuvers there were moved over one railroad lu two days, without suspending Its regu-/ lar traffic, 56,000 men, B200 horses, 4 1 828 wagons and 690 tons of baggage.