Newspaper Page Text
PICKENS COUNTY HERALD.
VOL. 1.
Out of 100 Indian students returned
from Hampton Institute, Virginia, to
the reservation only two have beeu
failures.
The coinage of the world now absorbs
nearly two-thirds of the gold and more
than half of the total output of silver
annually._
The London Times expresses the
opinion that the building of the cruisers
is more necessary for the strengthening
of tire British Navy than tho building of
ironclads.
These are the times of civilization and
peace, and yet it is figured, remarks the
New York World, that during the last
thirty-three years full 2,500,000 men
have lost their lives in war.
It is entertaining to learn that in
1800 Philadelphia had 10,000 more
population than New York, But that
was long ago, when Chicago, which is
now ahead of the city of Brotherly Love
in population, was a howling wilder¬
ness.
Sam Radges, of Topeka, Kan., paid
the Western doctors $3000 to be told
that his eyes would not last long and
that he soon would be stone blind. He
then went to New York, where a dis-
singuished physician informed him that
:hey would last all his life and go home
ind be happy. For the latter informa-
:ion he paid $500.
Uncle 8 am can soon sit on the breech
af an American-invented and American-
manufactured gun and defy the world to
produce its equal, boasts the New Orleans
Picayune. And it seems likely that the
aew wire-wouad gun will be the happy
weapou. The tests recently made of it
at Birdsboro, Penn., lift this system of
gun making out of the sphere of experi¬
ment. They show that a gua made of
segmental tubes, wound with wire, can-
aot be exploded by any charge of powder
that can be crammed into it.
This is the greatest year for the plant¬
ing of olive orchards ever kiori in
Southern California. It is estimated that
fully 370,000 olive trees were set out in
the Pomona region during fifty days,
ind a call for 15,000 more than the
nurseries could furnish was made. For
two months the nurserymen worked day
and night to fili orders for young trees.
The boom in olive planting has been
caused by the great crop of 1891, and
the favor that California olives and olive
oil’have met within the Eastern markets.
The olive orchards in Southern California
that are in full bearing have yielded un¬
usual returns during the past two years,
aud the supply of the fruit is much less
than the demand. Many growers
cleared $280 an acre from olives last
season.
The hop-cultivators of the Pacific
Coast are turning their attention to
Alaska. The season is believed to be
long enough for the rasing of crops, since
the suii shines with almost tropical heat
during the brief summer. Land can be
had almost for the asking, aud labor is
“dirt cheap.” The soil requires very
little preparation for planting. The
hops could be gathered at the rate of
twenty-five cents a basket, or one-half
the rate paid the pickers of Oregon and
Washington. Freightage ia sailing ves¬
sels is a trifling item. Making these
estimates, a syndicate of Portland hop-
dealers have purchased a tract of land
near Fort Wrangel, and wili enter upon
the enterprise at once. They talk con¬
fidently of Alaska becoming our future
hop market.
It is not generally known that the
rules of the Postoffice Department em¬
powers, states the Boston Transcript,
inspectors to open suspicious letters at
discretion. The public appears to be
very much astonished at this, but it is
carried to a greater extent than even
those who know all about it suppose.
“In fact,” says a Government official,
“under the rules of the Po 3 tofflce De¬
partment almost any private' letter can
be opened and read. This will surprise
some people, but it is nevertheless true,
and a reference to the private instructions
to Postoffice Inspectors, which anro in
printed form, will convince anybody of
it. Whether such secret privileges are
ever used illegitimately would be diffi¬
cult to find out. It is a good deal like
arresting a man on suspicion. As a mat¬
ter of fact, therefore, you will see that
the United States mails are not more
sacred than the mails of Russia or any
other country so far as Government
espionage is concerned.”
we seek: the nEWATir; of iioktest labor.
SONG AFTER SILENCE,
Winter is a weary time I
Not the ripple of a rhyme
Stirs the icy shores along,
Quickening quietude with song;
Smiles are choked with snow,
Not a metaphor will flow!
Envious frost doth hold in fee
Every lip in Castaly.
But let spring the bonds unbind
With the soft touch of its wind,
What a rapture! What a sweep!
What a swift, ecstatic leap!
Mortal words but half express
All the rapture, all the stress!
Sweeter are the strains that come
If the lip awhile be dumb.
—Clinton Scollard, in New England Magazine
KILLED BY VAN ORDEN.
BY .TAMES HARVEY SMITH.
66 MOS, do you be¬
£ lieve in dreams?”
“Certainly,” I
replied. “Every¬
& * body has dreams;
m every animate be¬
h m r j/ ing, I should have
said. They are the
creations of the
¥. brain, and every¬
has thing that has a
brain dreams.
Frank looked out of the window iu si¬
lence, and, by the glare of the gas-lamp,
I sciutinized his face with some appre¬
hension. I anticipated something grew-
some, although the surroundings were
neither gloomy nor romantic.
We were in Frank’s room, a second-
story front, in a middle-class boarding
bouse in a middle-class neighborhood.
The windows looked out on a clean pro¬
saic street, and the room was finished in
conventional style. Frank Chessman was
a medical student, now in his last year at
college, and he was not at all inclined to
be mystical, nor even speculative. Of all
professions, none is so intensely realistic
as the physician’s. He cuts and carves
to the root, and is so intent upon prying
into the secrets of the body that he gives
little thought to the mysteries of the
soul. The heart is a machine to pump
blood, the lungs are chemical purifiers,
the brain is a mass of gray matter—that
is all. My young friend had not evoD
the average student’s fondness for prank¬
ish decorations with bones and skulls;
his room might have been a bookkeep¬
er 's.
Frank laughed softly, and, I was glad
to see, without any trace of uneasiness.
I had foreseen a discussion ou matters
about which no man knows anything,
and nothing can be more wearisome than
that, So I was disappointed when he
added. “Let me tell you about a sin¬
gular dream I had a year ago. ”
Very well,” I assented.
“I had gone to bed early," began
Frank, “and I am quite certain that I
did not overeat, and I drank no liquor
at all. I am equally certain that I was
not in debt, love, or bad health. But I
dreamed— By-the-way, did you ever
meet Van Orden?”
“Not that I remember.”
“If you had, you would have remem-
bered him. He was a law student in
the university; had a free scholarship
from the city, I believe; and in many
respects he was a remark able young man.
He was about my age but much larger,
and I always thought he was too hand-
some for a man He had great black
eyes-soft as an Italian giris-cnsp curly
hair, and complexion like a peach. Not
a png or a fop, mind! He was on the
football eleven and baseball nine, and an
Well? t I said, V S shortly f ;
“Well, I dreamed about Van Orden,
In nay dream I was walking along the
edge of a great high cliff which over-
hung the ocean. I do not remember that
I ever saw such a place in my waking
hours, and when I thought it over after-
ward, I came to the conclusion that I
had read about such cliffs in England
and Scotland, and perhaps seen pictures
of a similar locality.”
“Very likely,” I assented.
“Well, I dreamed I was walking
along, when Van Orden came slowly
toward me, and as I stretched out my
hand to greet him, he seized me around
the body and hurled me over the cliff.
I fell dowu, down, an interminable time,
«s you do in dreams, and then, which is
very unusual iu dreams, I struck the
water.”
“And awoke?”
“No, I didn’t* A smothered feeling
came over me, and then I saw my face
floating on the surface ot the water, and
heard a voice say, ‘He has been killed. ’
Then I awoke, all in a tremble.”
“A disagreeable dream,” I
mented, “but not unique or otherwise
remarkable.”
“lam aware of that,”rejoined Frank.
“But it has a sequel. I had another
dream a week later. I was in a ball¬
room having a jolly time, and presently
I went into the conservatory. I may say
that in this and the subsequent dreams
not once was there anything familiar in
the surroundings, nor did I recognize a
face—with a single exception. I had
been iu the conservatory only a few
minutes when Van Orden appeared in a
near-by doorway, and shot me, and I
died.”
“Good gracious!” I exclaimed, invol¬
untarily.
“Singular, wasn’t it? Well, a month
later I dreamed I was lying in a ham¬
mock in a grove, which, in my dream I
JASPER, GA., FR11>A¥, APRIL >2, 1892.
knew to be somewhere in the tropics,
when Van Ordeu suddenly appeared, and
strangled me.’’
“Ouo moment!” I cried. “Were you
and Van Ordeu enemies or rivals in any
sense?”
“Not in auy sense. I had meant to
say that at the start. We were the best
of friends, and I cannot remember that
we had even a dillerenee of opinion.
Not. that we were chummy, understand,
because we met but seldom, but when
we did, we were very congenial. And
that reminds me of something else. Xu
all these dreams there was one point of
resemblance apart from the killiug. Van
Ordeu never appeared furious or vonge-
ful; his expression was invariably one of
sorrow or pity, so far as I could judge,
It left an impression on me, in an odd
way, that Van Orden had to kill me.”
“Yes, I understand. Auy more?”
“Two more. In one I met him iu a
secluded by-street where I was walkin'
and w’as stabbed; and in the fifth, an .
and last wo were guests at a bai in
Van Orden passed me a glass of wine,
and I knew it was poisoned, but I took
it and drank the contents, looking all
the while into his great soulful eyes, re¬
alizing that he pitied me, but was urged
on by fate, or whatever vou may call
it.”
I felt a certain sense of uneasiness
creeping over me as my friend concluded.
In spite of the fact that I knew, as a
philosopher, that the five dreams wco-
but five phantasies, I felt, as a friend, a
feeling of dread.
“And that was all?” I queried, after
trying to think of something more cou
soling or explanatory dreams—yes,” to say. replied
“All of the
Frank, “but there is something else to
tell. First, about Van Orden. I am not
a philosopher like you, Amos, and so I
am not ashamed to say that this series of
dreams impressed me deeply. They not
only alarmed but bewildered me. Had
they been the same scene repeated—say,
the cliff—I would have made a vow,
and kept it, to never go near such a
place, but I could not avoid hammocks,
by-streets, banquet halls and ballrooms
as well, without being a downright her-
mit.”
“But you could avoid Van Orden,” I
suggested.
“Not absolutely, without leaving the
university. Yet I determined to avoid
him as much as possible, and I did so.
Mindl I felt no resentment, but as days
passed on I gradually formulated the ter-
rifying theory that Van Orden was des-
tined to kill me. He might kill me in a
hundred accidental ways—on the play
ground or in the gymnasium, at tabe, in
the street—I am sure I thought- of alum-
dred possibilities. TI 10 idea topic such a
•hold of me that I actually turned aside
to avoid meeting him, even in a crowd,
He noticed my behavior, I know, and
felt justly offended—he has told my
friends as much—but I made no expla-
natron. What could I explain? To re¬
hearse my dreams as I have done to you,
and offer them as an excuse. for my c, u-
j duct, sides, would I wanted subject him me avoid to ridicule. Be- to
1 to me, so as
1 reduce the chances,
j “I see; and it seems to have reduced
the chances considerably. Van Ordeu
has not killed you.”
“No, nor never will,” Frank laughed,
I was rather surprised at the suddeu
change of demeanor, but before I hacl
time to make a comment, he became
grave again
“Amos,’; he said, with a sigh “there
^nothing _ ,n dreams. I have told you
that I have had five most vmd dreams,
so realistic that I cannot recall them
without feeling a cold chill creeping over
me,and yetthey have come to naught.”
“Wa.t a bit,” I objected, becommg at
on “ 'oK'cal anlargumenUve ‘you can-
not be certain of that. I will never be-
lieve that a dream is m auy sense a
prophecy of good or evil, but, on your
part, you can never be certain that Van
Orden will not kill you until you are
drawing the last breath of a natural
decease.”
“Oh yes I T can most wise logician!”
cried Frank. “You have omitted one
major premise-supposeVau Orden dies
hist v
“Ii he dead. I cried, in . turn.
For answer 1' rank turned up the stu-
dent lamp until the light flooded the
apartment, then he took from a near-by
cabinet a polished skull,and stood it on
More
This is Van Orden,” he said briefly.
“Van Ordeu."’I repeated, recoiling
slight y.
“Don’t be alarmed, said Frank, after
an outburst of merriment. I can read
your thoughts, Amos. No, I did not
kill him, although an acute reasoner like
yourself might have argued that 1 was
No, poor fellow”—dropping
again into a melancholy tone—“he died
a natural death, if disease is natural.”
“And how did you become possessed
of this ghastly memento?”
“In a roundabout but perfectly legiti¬
mate manner. Van Orden—I told yon.
did I not?—was a poor chap, working in
odd jobs here and there to pay his board
and buy the necessaries of life during his
term, and when he died, there was no
one to bury him. He was a retiring
fellow—the pride of poverty, you know
—and no one knew where he lived; to
tell the truth, no one cared to inquire,
and when ho was taken sick, he was too
proud to appeal to liis frieuds for help.
So he was taken to the almshouse hos¬
pital when be grew delirious from fever,
and there he died. You know what be
comes of pauper bodies, don’t you?
Well, I missed Van Orden, but, under
the circumstances, did not care to inquire
abv.it him, and when I next saw his face
it v as upturned on a dissecting table.”
1 looked at the grinning skull within
resell of my hand, and with difficulty ro-
prr sed a shudder.
indent, ‘It was a dreadful shock to me for a
and then I actually felt a thrill
of oy, something like a murderer who
ha- been reprieved, I imagine. But I
did not breathe entirely easy until I got
thi iu my possession”—tapping the
ski/ 1 —“and it cost me a pretty penny;
yoi know skulls are expensive. 1
worked over it-until I got it into excel-
ten shape—don't you think?” it,” said,
shouldn't care to keep I
ea: cUy.
‘ Shouldn’t you?” said Frank, id sur-
pri “It is my greatest object-lesson;
on. 1 shall remember as long as I live,
' \hut it teaches me! Here am I, a
vo ; man in perfect health and sound
ni troubled with no mystical notions,
i a-*.*?*.;, of a profession that is
sir lv free from superstition, and yet
disordered visions lead me to
days and restless nights, rout
, and warp my judgment, and
) 1 , make me cruelly suspicious
to a fellow-being who never
* cr would have done me an
iould auy lesson be more itn-
Poor fellow!” he added,
in his eyes, as he took up the
us left hand, and slowly passed
hand ever the cranium. “It
(any days before injustice. 1 cau forgive
i doing you an Who
mo 8 , that if it had notnot been
fo >si> foolish dreams, I would have
. hi- dearest friend?”
1 Who knows?” I echoed, keeping my
eyes upon the skull, which had for me a
si ; ilar fascination,
“He was 4 noble fellow, and would
have made a noble friend. I wish you
had known him, Amos; you would have
liked him. I look at this every day,
and fry to picture it as alive. His mouth,
his eyes—”
“What is that?” I asked as Frank ut-
tered a slight exclamation,
1 I have pricked my finger in the eye-
socket—a mere scratch,” he replied,
Then, miner, he put away the skull with
a sigh. “Well, well, I’ll forget it in
tiiiuj, Amos; but the whole affair has
cert-Jinly been a epoch in my life. Take
another cigar, Amos. ”
-
C; r senior delegated to me to go to
; , inn next. 4ay ( where a silver trust
was jeing organized, and settle one was
needed to draw up the preliminary
panerA, and it wa 3 lour weeks before I
retained to Now York. Almost the
first person I met said to me :
“Sad about ygung (jhessnutu, wasn't
it?” / *. fr
“What of film?” I asked, quickly,
“pidn’t you know?” he rejoined,
mouthed, “Such a promising
young fellow—”
“YVell? well?”
“Died three weeks ago.”
“Good heavens 1 How?”
'‘Blood poisoning; curious case, too.
It seems hewas handling a skull aud cut
his finger—a mere scratch, they say. He
paid no attention to it until the finger
began to swell. Then he had two of the
best doctors iu the city, but they
couldn’t save him, and ho died ou the
fifth day.”—Harper’s Weekly,
How Cable Roads Are Operated s’the
Iri all tho New y ork cable , oad
cable is <]riv(!tl b iumsf bein placed d arou , 1(1
two twelvc . foot ; in nearly
the same perpeadicala ‘ twenty )IaaQ with their
axle3 abou t / feet apart. It is a
curious fact that ; though 3 the same cable
run8 around thes two rum9)they / do „ ot
revolve ftt the ga ^ ‘ d> Ia th Bridge f
cabl() machin ' oue drunl j ”, a revo u .
tion an hour b hlud the oth This U
ed b J somo to be duc to the fuct
that the cable slips or creeps more upen
one drum than upon the other, Some
engineers think it is simply (Jue to the
unequal wearing of the drums whereby
one becomes of less diameter than the
other. Inasmuch as it is always the same
member of the pair that lags, the first
hypot hesis would seem nearer the truth,
ltl tho Bridg(J raachinery thi8 m pro .
vided for by a system of automatic gear-
j n „ b y wb j c i 1 the two drums are geared
to t j, u dr i v ing shaft much as two horses
are hitched to a wagon by an equalizing
bar Iu tho Broadway powel - plaut , at
Houfiton street) th0 two druul , 0 f each
set are driven by a separate ^ rope gearing
which wU1 ield to ali ht differences
in gpeed i a tho Third avenue plant no
provision seems to have been made foi
this phenomenon geared'togethar tbe tw0 drum8 o{each
set bein g by cogwheels.
—New York Tribune.
Cyclone Pits.
Since General Mycr began tho “official
promulgation of meteorological phenome¬
na,” in 1870, cyclone pits have been
constructed in many of the prairies of
Iowa and Kansas. Curiously enough
people did not seem to appreciate the
danger that might threaten them from
the clouds until they began to understand
that these dangers could be foretold.
Professor Mark W. Harrington, the new
Chief of the Weather Bureau, is a
scholarly-looking man of forty-three. He
edits the vs eather bulletins from Washing-
ton and the American Meteorological
Journal.—New Orleans Times-Democrat.
All Paris is flocking to see Jacques
Inandi, a native of Piedmont, twenty-
four-years old who solves problems in
arithmetic with a rapidity that astounds
the learned. A strange fact is that he
has no aptitude for anything else.
WORDS 01' WISDOM.
He is well paid tiiat is well satis¬
fied.
What makes life dreary is the want
of motive.
We cunuot digest adversity if we do
not relish it.
Small things cease to be small, whe.i
their effects are mighty.
Art is noble, but the sanctity of the
human soul is nobler yet.
No nation cau ever be destroyed while
it possesses a good home life.
What makes old age so sail is, not
that our joys, but that our hopes thou
cease.
Ho who saves his neighbor’s soul, as
well as his owu, is the persou who
doubles his talent.
One cannot move in this world with¬
out being suspected of iui attempt to slip
a dollar into his pocket.
There is a spiritual loftiness which
strikes an equal balance witli any fan¬
cied or possible discrepancy in inches.
If one’s ambition is to make his con¬
versation spicy aa.l entertaining let him
select a dainty subject and dissect his
friends.
Monuments may be buiided to ex¬
press the affection or pride of friends, or
to display their wealth, but they are only
valuable for the characters which they
perpetuate.
If a young lady lias that discretion
and modesty without which all knowl¬
edge is of little worth, she will never
make an ostentatious display lie of it, be¬
cause she will rather intent on
acquiring more, than in displaying what
she has.
“The Gospel of Wealth.”
Andrew Carnegie, the “iron king,”
delivered an address on the gospel ol
wealth at the Church of the Divine Pa-
ternity in New York City. He said;
Accumulated weath, which by a fiction
we call the property of one, has become
the slave of all, at work day aud uiglit
promoting the general welfare of the
community, Unless it is hoarded in the
form of jewels or the precious metals, it
is impracticable to devise any mode ol
using it which will not promote the com¬
mon good. Small sums cau be wasted,
but great wealth to-day, under our con¬
ditions, must inevitably be kept at work
chiefly for the benefit of the masses,
whether its nominal owner desires it or
not. It was exactly the reverse in ancient
times, when riches were hoarded for
selfish, miserly ends, which aroused hos¬
tility to their accumulation. The t.pp~
sition of the early teachers has little
bearing upon the question to-day, since
wealth is no longer primarily for the in¬
dividual, but for the people. The gospel
of wealth is comprised iu a few words.
Surplus wealth is a sacred trust which its
possessor is bound to administer in his
lifetime for the good of the community
from which it was derived. The man
who dies possessed of available millions,
free and his to administer in life, dies
disgraced. Men must keep their capital
in business so long as they labor, foi
capital is the tool with which they work
wonders; but, beyond that necessavilj
so employed, the aim of tlie millionaire
should be to die poor. The use of sur
plus wealth for objects which eommenc
themselves to the administrator as bes
calculated to promote tho genuine im¬
provement of his fellows is believed to
be the highest possible solution of the
question of wealth and poverty. Those
into whose hands surplus wealtli flows
thus become the trustees and administra¬
tors of the public. How, then, are the
hoarders who evade the gospel of wealth
to be reached ? They must be let alone
during life, but after death the State
should step in and demand its share of
their hoard through a graduated system
of taxation. Every fortune leBt by a
hoarder should contribute to the State in
proportion to its size, small amounts left
to those dependent upon the decedent
being exempt, but the scale rising by
steps until in the case of enormous for¬
tunes of many millions the decree should
be “one-half to the privy coffers of the
State.” This is what tho laws of Venice
exacted from Shylock. Our modern
Shylocks should be made to contribute
at least as much.—New Orleans Pica-
yune.
Fishing by Electric Light.
Electricity calls attention to the whole
sale and wanton slaughter of fish by the
use of the electric light. The sense of
sight la highly developed ia fishes, and
the Indians have always recognized this,
attracting fish within reach of their
spears by means of a torch. When used
along with the electric light, most kinds
of nets become simply murderous in their
effects, for the brilliancy of the sight is
an irresistible attraction to the fish. Sal¬
mon fishers and others who take and pack
fish on a large scale are resorting to the
use of the electric light for this purpose,
and the wholesale destruction of fish is
likely to lead to the extermination 0 / cer¬
tain species. The great injury arising
from this cause consists in the fact that
such quantities of fisti are caught that a
largo proportion of them are wasted in¬
stead of being turned to their legitimate
use of feeding the population of the en¬
tire country, says Electricity. Tho in¬
discriminate destruction of fish in this
way is almost criminal, and if prompt
measures be not taken for placing it un¬
der some sort of restriction, our fish sup¬
plies will in a few years be, if not ex¬
hausted, very seriously crippled.—Pica¬
yune.
NO. 14.
THE LINNET SINGS,
By note and word
My senst is stirred,
For never clearer song was heard
Than that the linnet sings.
Lying near it,
Full 1 hoar it,
From the briar where it swings:
“He kist her—kist her—kiat her—
.Sweet—my sweet—>
Sweet sister."
If grief or glee
Imperils this free
Oatpouring of its soul to me,
My voice will not betray.
I silent lie
The brior oy,
And hear it sing and say:
"He kist her—kist her—kist her—
Sweet—my sweet—
Sweet sister.”
Think as you will,
Or well or ill,
Of what it sings in swelling still
Upon the brier there;
It may be glad.
It may be sad,
But, oh! the sweetest air—
* ‘He kist her—kist her—kist her—
Sweet—my sweet—
Sweet sister.”
To me or you
It says not who
This right or wrongful act did do—
1 wonder if it could.
I only hear
Its notes so clear
Go ringing through the wood:
“He kist her—kist her—kist her—>
Sweet—my sweet—
Sweet sister.”
—Henry T. Stanton, m the Century.
PITH AND POINT.
Time worn—A watch.
The ability of the gas company to
make both ends meet depends on the
meter.—Chicago Times.
Her—“What kind of men do you
think make the best husbands?” She—
“Bachelors and widowers.”
All the world’s a stage—and every¬
body seems to want t.he seat with the
driver.—Somerville Journal.
A merchant may drive a fast horse,
but hit plover objects to taking other peo¬
ple’s dust.—Binghamton Rermbljean.
One reason why .pen see things so dif¬
ferently is because no <;wq can 2 “ ( o
the same place to look.—Ram's
Paradoxical as it may appear *
man has got low down in tF ;
Hiaj be sai d to tK< gr
Leader.
The really disastrous stage of lazme-.-
ia reached wtien a man feels that it is too
much trouble to avoid trouble.—Wash¬
ington Star.
“Hullo,” said Mr. Suburbs, us ho en¬
tered his yard, “what are you doing
with the pruning shears, John?” “H’o,
nothing,” replied tho new English gar¬
dener, “only trimming the h'edgesof the
’edges, sir!"—New Orleans Times-Dcmo-
crat.
At an evening party the lady of the
house offered some refreshment to a
rather foolish gentleman, who declined,
saying; “You may take an ass to the
water, but you can’t make him drink."
“Then I won’t pressyuu any more,” was
the lady’s reply.—El Telegrafo.
The reporter had just come iu from an
assignment iu a murder case. It was a
rainy day, and he had to cross a plowed
field on foot. “I see,” observed the city
editor, looking with some displeasure at
his large and muddy boots, “you have
brought the scene of the murder with
you.” “Ye 3 ," answered the reporter,
apologetically, “I’ve got to have some
ground for my story, you know.”—
Chicago Tribune.
The Thinness of a Hubble.
The most powerful microscopes ren¬
der visible a point about 1 - 100,000 part
of an inch in diameter. There is reason
for believing that a single molecule is
mch smaller even than that.'tine reason
for this has been deduced from the soap
bubble. Scientists have measured the
thickness of the envelope of soapy water
inclosing the air of the bubble wheu it
had became so thin as to produce rain¬
bow tints. At the appearance of the
shade of violet, it was one-fourth the
thickness of the length of an ordinary
violet wave of light—one-sixty-thou¬
sandth of an inch—thus making the
thickness equal to one-two-hundred-and-
forty-thousandth of an inch. As the
bubble continued to expand a black
patch formed adjacent to the pipe from
which the bubble was being blown, and
the thickness of sucii patch has been
found to be only one-fortieth of the thick¬
ness of the vielct section, or about one-
millionth of an inch.—Electricity.
Unharmed by Flames-
The value of terra cotta for the con¬
struction of fire-proof buildings was
strikingly shown by experiments recentlj
conducted on a large scale iu Lambeth,
London, England. A building the size
of a room of an ordinary house was con¬
structed with brick walls and terra cotta
roof or floor. The building was filled to
the ceiling with wood, tar barrels and
straw, a party assembled on the upper
floor or roof and the materials within
were fired. Although the interior of the
building was one mass of white heat, the
floor above was perfectly cool under foot
and apparently quite unaffected by the
intense heat.—New York Witness.