ALy,
—— i
Of Love (he nunstrel sang, and drew
An easy finger o'er the strings,
Then laughed and san of other things—
Of grass and Howers zmdg azure blue.
OF Love the poet wrote, and soft
And sweat the liquid measures flowed,
Then zave his noments to an ode.
And crooks und shepherds mentioned oft,
One day the singer met with Love,
And mighty musie shook his strings,
While dreans and light imaginings
His new-roused spirit soared above,
Love met the roet on his way,
And kindled all his soul to fire, :
Filled all his measures with desire,
Aud left no room for fancies gay.
The minstrel sang to Love one song,
‘And died for joy. vet lives in this.
"The poet, tonched by Love’s warm kiss,
With cchoes fills the ages long.
y ¢ —Oscar Fay Adams,
THE ACCUSING CONSCIENCE
FPEAHHITE PHHITRRT
Montresson's limbs trembled he
neath him as he stood up to receive
the verdict of the jury. For three
weeks ths trial had waged about him
=—NOowW an accusing witness dramati
cally reciting damning facts which
brought the murder directly to the
accused man’'s door; again one who
recited what little there was to be
told in the prisoner’s favor. The
voice of the attorney for the defense,
striving to make the worst appear
the better reason, hrd risen in econ
flict with the cold, cutting accusa
lions of the distriet attorney. Vis
ions of life and freedom were dis
placed by nightmares of the room
with the little door—the gaunt chair
—the {welve solemn-faced, profes
sional witnesses, the sharp click of
the key, the end! ;
Even the bresence of his wife at
his side had not served to lighten the
load that he carried. He had felt at
times as if he should be compelled to
cry out, so ordinary and humdrum
did it seem to everyone else—so vital
to him.. The pain of it all was acute,
and the more so because of his feel
ing of utter loneliness—because of
the fact that among all of them there,
he alone, Basil Montresson, knew
whether he had taken human life
wontonly; he alone could ° say
whether the tortures that he had en
dured through those three tumultu
ous weeks came from a consciousness
of outraged innocence, or of remorse
over the act and gnawing fear of the
consequences.
“Jurors, look upon the prisoner—
prisoner, look upon the jurors. How
say you, gentlemen of the jury, do
you find the prisoner guilty or not
guilty?” ; .
“Not guilty.” : e
. The words seemed to come from
afar off, At first he wasn’t suge that
he had heard right. A low ;ixrmur
of voices in the court room attracted
his attention, and he glanced about
in confusion. Then he felt a tugging
at his coat. He was drawn into bis
seat, and a woman’'s arms encircled
him. A woman’s head fell upon the
shoulder, /
- “Basil, Basil!” she cried, “don’t
you hear? Don’t you understand?
You are free, free! Oh, thank God
that it is so. Thank God! Thank
God!”
Her cries awoke him from his stu
por. He bent forward mechanically
and kissed her. A pang went through
him when their lips met. He vaguely
felt that he had done something that
he should not have done. His attor
ney took his hand and pressed it,
saying:
“Congratulations, Montresson. It
was a hard fight, but I never had any
doubt as to the result. Come along,
now. There is nothing more to hold
you here. Come out in the fresh air.
Brace up, man; brace up!”’
He looked curiously at this advo
cate—the man who had wrought the
wonderful thing, and mumbled a tew
words of thanks. But there was no
warmth in the hand-clasp with which
he returned the salutation of the law
yer.
The next thing that he remembered
was being in the carriage beside his
wife. She was holding his hand, al
ternately smiling and weeping, and
murmuring her thanks for his de
lverance.
“The children will be waiting for
us,” she crooned. “They will be
glad, Think, Basil, if—if it had—
been—otherwise.”
She shuddered and shrank back
into the corner of the seat.
“But it couldn’t have been,” she
hastened to say, ‘‘Oh, I was confi
dent from the very beginning, I
knew it was all a mistake. I knew
that they would see it as I did. How
could they believe that you, my
Bas{l, could—Oh, it is all too hor
rible.”
‘“Yes,” he said, suddenly, in a hol
low voice, “it is all horrible. God, if
I could only get the thing out of my
mind.”
“But you are free now,” she said,
*“‘exonerated, and the world knows
that you are innoeent.”
He looked down at her with great,
blood-shot eyes—~peering, question
ing eyes, eyes that seemed to read
her through and through, wonderirg
eyes, eyes filled with apprehension,
fear, shame, remorse—for what?
“Please, please, Basil, don’'t look
at me like that. You frighten me.
Tell me what it is.”
“What is it?"” he repeated. Tbhen
he shrugged his shoulders, and his
Mps parted in a ghastly smile.
‘Nohting—nothing,” he said hur
riedly.
She nestled closely to his side once
more, and her joy reached the su
preme height in tha, and in silence.
S 0 they rode out into the subnrbs
of the great city, the man’s gaze fixed
wonderingly on the old familiar
sights that now looked so strange to
him. He had been in jail but nine
months and yet the change seemed
like that of a century span.
| He speculated if the world would
ever again look to him as it did be
fore that night—that night when the
gale drove the clouds in great black
masses across the night and the
hawk cried shrilly; that night- when
the moon leaped suddenly into a
blaze of spectral light, showing the
house—the trader who had come to
sleeping room above the carriage
buy corn—the up-turned face--that
night when a stiffened Broan wus an
swered back by a sharp ery of the
hawk calling across the void.
He shuddered as these disconcert
ed pictures framed themselves before
his gaze. The remark of his lawyer
flashed across his mind.
“I never had any doubt of the re
sult.” 3
He wondered why. Truly it was
a wonderful thing—this justice. He
felt the warm clasp of the lawyer's
hand and glanced furtively at his
own. Was there anything on it? He
became sensible of a feeling of an
tipathy toward the man who Had set
him free. There was something in
the hearty, open, honest frankness
of the lawyer that grated on him.
He turned his gaze upon his wife,
who met it with a serene smile, her
lips half parted.
“I trusted you all the time,” she
whispered.
There it was again. She, too. She
grated on him as did the lawyer. He
wished that she didn’t have so much
trust in him—all of this confidence
touched a cord in his nature that
cried out in mocking protest. If it
’hadn’t set all his nerves tingling, he
' would have been tempted to laugh
‘ uproariously.
~ Then suddenly his mood changed.
What was the use of all this? FHe
was free, acquitted by a jury of bhis
peers. That was a fact. He had
stood his trial—hadn’t it been fair
and impartial? And here he was—
ves, it was reality—riding back to
his home, the stain of murder wiped
from his scutcheon, privileged once
more to hold his head high.
These- thoughts rushed through
Montresson’s brain, and with a great
effort he sought to cast his burden
aside. A sort of smile spread over.
his face. He gathered his wife in
his arms and kissed her.
“Thank God! - Thank God!” she
murmured. Yoy
They were nearing the house now. .
From the door the little ones eame
rushing to meet ‘the carriage. Be
fore he knew it he was out and they
were capéring about him—their
kisses burning into his flash, their
merry laughter driving his tortured
soul to desperation.
“Bad man shut darling papa in
nasty prison,” lisped the youngest.
He looked down on her with an
-expression of great'longing, and then
turned as the little six-year-old
scrambled to his knee.
“Papa, tell your little daughter—
you wouldn’t kill a man, would you?”
His head fell forward on his breast,
and great tears coursed down his
cheeks. The mother hastily gathered
up her brood and dragged them from
the room.
And then he rose up, and with
mighty strides went out. by the side
door and proceeded directly to the
carriage house. Entering, he silently
closed and barred the door, and then
mounted the stairs to the room above.
He paused on the threshold and
his eyes became riveted on the bed.
“I was mad, mad,” he murmured
fiercely. “But now lam sane. Here
he fell, struck down by me. And
here I——"" he strode over to a
dresser, and opening the hottom
drawer fumbled about for a minute.
The muscles of his face tightened.
“Pitiful, pitiful law,” he mur
mured. ‘Blind, aimless justice. You
remove the scar from a brow by
driving it into the soul.” ‘
With a feverish jerk he drew a re- 1
volver from the drawer, examined the |
chamber to see that the cartridges
were there,
He laid the muzzle of the revolver
against his temple and pulled the
trigger.—Boston Cultivator. E
Favorite Authors, =~ " i
Of lawyers—Sue. e
Of thieves—Steele,
Of the impecunious—Borrow,
Of bachelors—Chambers.
Of the young widow—Newman,
Of the chiropodist—Foote,
Of the telegrapher—Cable.
O! the doctor—Payne and Aken
side. ¢
Of the painter—Black, White,
Gray, Green and other Hughes.
Epicures go in for Crabbe and
Hare,
The avaricious want More,
Cricket players like Fielding.
The author wants his Wordsworth.
The fisherman takes to Hook and
Hake.
And President Roosevelt to Wilde,
Woods, and Traill.—Boston Tran
script. .
m
Labor On the Yand,
It is no good saying airily that the
tilling of the fields eomes naturally
to all men. It certainly does not
come natural to half the unemployed
men to be met with in large cities,
even when these men have a sincere
desire to get work, For agricultural
labor requires a large measure of
training and skill, just as other spe
cialized work does.—Sheffield Tele
graph,
New York City has twice as many
telephones as London, four times as
many as Berlin and six times as
many as Paris.
, - & - A i O
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‘B l ":‘:» B v:‘\\i\\ N \‘;J;é}\\:‘.‘ 3 < .}’ " ::""{;:::g‘s f
; ..1.'},4,.&‘“ \_.)4‘_\,' R A - S BT
Band Stitching,.
Very smart are the skirts with from
thirteen to nineteen gores, each seam
stitched on the outer side, so that it
seems to indicate a narrow bias band.
To be very correct thesé skirts should
be four inches from the ground.
These skirts have been extremely
fashionable this summer, and in
heavier weights will be worn during
the next month or two.—lndianapolis
News,
To Dispel Flesh.
If you are overstout, don't use
drugs.
They may bring on another evil
worse than flesh.
Use the flesh brush. Get a square
cornered clothes brush of manila
fibre. 5
At first the skin will be sensitive,
but use the brush gently and steadily
and it will not irritate.
Pay attention to the muscles of the
shoulders and arms, and especially
the back of the neck where that un
sightly mound of flesh rises.
Whenever you can walk, do so.
Imagine that the trolley car engen
ders disease. .
~When you feel sleepy go out in the
sunshine.on an interesting mission.
Do your sleeping at night and omit
the afternoon nap. — New York
Times,
She Can Gossip in 13 Tongues.
Marteina Kramers, of Rotterdam,
ranks among the first of women lin
guists. She can read and speak thir
teen languages, and there are few
men in the world who ean equal that
record. Besides, she has sufficient
knowledge of seven other languages
to converse in them, and she has
planned to add a new language to her
list every six months for several
years. Miss Kramers also ranks as
one of the most influential suffragette
in Europe. She is editor of Jus
Suffragii, the official organ of the
International Woman Suffrage Al-
Our Cut-out Recipe.
Pasle _in Your Scrap-Book.
Fish For Invalids.—A nice way of cooking cod for inva
lids: Wash and dry the fish, sprinkle well with flour, a little
pepper and salt and put in a dish which is well greased with
butter. Pour over sufficient milk to cover bottom of dish
about an inch in depth (more if liked). Cover down and
cook in a hot oven until quite loose from the bone, basting
irequently all the time. This makes a tasty dish, generally
being eaten with relish, as it is quite free from fatness and no
flavor being lost. The milk serves as a sauce, being thick
ened with the flour while cooking.
liance, which has several branches in
this country. Miss Kramers is one
of the most optimistic of the workersa,
She believes that within tm
America and all the countries in Bu
rope will extend suffrage to women
on equality with men.—New York
Press. ;
-
Here's a Golden Girl, Indeed.
- Laura White, of San Francisco,
expects to become the richest woman
in the world. After several years of
prospecting she has discovered a gold
vein in Nevada, and now is directing
mining operations personally, The
pluck and thoroughness that have
made woman so successful against
men in the world of work tell the
story of Miss White’s winning of
wealth. She saw nothing in a future
as a clerk in a San Francisco office, so
she studied mineralogy and struck
out into the Nevada mountains. She
met the disappointments that seem
to come to every prospector, but her
confidence never waned, and finally
she marked down a gold vein on a
mountainside that had been searched
by scores of men. She filed her claim
and was ready for work before news
of her rich find reached the public,
and when men rushed in to stake out
elaims it was found the young woman
had obtained control of every square
foot of promising ground. Miss
White directs the work of a large
force of miners, and it is said that
when below ground she wears men’s
clothes.—New York Press.
Temper Told by the Hair.
Girls with blue eyes and straw-col
ored hair generally have a far calmer
and happier life, as a rule, than those
with big dark eyes and olive com
plexions.
The fair girl is almiost sure to be
level headed in her love affairs, and
to make a sensible marriage, but she
will be much more fickle than the
dark girl, because her feelings will
not be so deep and passionate,
Dark girls are more emotional;
love means.so much to them that
their:feeling is deeper and more last
ing than the love of fair girls, or so
the learned in such matters say,
Brunette women make very loving
and demonstrative mothers, but they
do not understand discipline, Fair
women train their children best for
a prosaic and every day life, .
It is sald that fair children are
easier to bring up than dark ones, as
their ailments are less likely to be
serious, and they have more vitality
to resist disease,
Dark persons of either sex fret and
wear themselves to fiddlestrings with
nerves and emotional worries in a
manner most uncommon among the
more phlegmatic, fair-skinned people,
Auburn-haired people must be
judged alone. The mother of a
daughter with ruddy gold lodks and
dark eyes must be on the lookout for
trouble. The course of true love
rarely runs smoothly for the dark-
eyed, auburn-haired girl.—New York
Telegram, .
We Angered English Suffragist.
*Mrs. Cobden-Sanderson still is try
ing to convince the English that
American women are interested only
in themselves. It is the dull season
for the suffragette in England, and
probably that is why Mrs. Cobden-
Sanderson is raking over the old
coals. She was not especially’ grati
fied by the results of her mission
here, and she has deemed it wise to
grow more emphatic in her criticism
)of the American women than she wis
a few months ago, when fresh from
her fruitless visit to this country.
Mrs. Cobden-Sanderson and Mrs.
Humphry Ward agree that there is
lllttle prospect of a campaign here for
the ballot box for women, but the
?noveliat has been more reserved in
‘her accounts of her meetings with
American womean in their clubs and
‘homes. Of course, woman is entitled
to her own opinion; still it seems the
part of a blind courage, if not audaci
ty, for an Englishwoman to stay here
a few weeks and then return to her
home to deliver a verdict upon Amer
ican womanhood. The trouble with
Mrs. Cobden-Sanderson and Mrs.
Ward is that they have not weighed
the radical differences in the posi
tions of women in this country and in
‘England. The incentive to agitation,
lto the baiting of legislators and Cab
inet members, does not exist here as
in England, where women still re
main more or less vassals in the eyes
of the law.—New York Press. "
. Overcoming Carelessness,
- A group of mothers were lament
ing about the carelessness of children
and men in eating, and the drain
these hard times of big laundry bills.
“My family scarcely spot the cloth
any more,” laughed one of the moth
ers. ‘“They find it too expensive! I
used to have a tablecloth a day in the
AWash, and then could scarcely keep
them respectable looking.”
~ ‘The laundry bills were huge, as
!fiffiigirl could not possibly do
‘them at home, and the wear and tear
on the linen was as bad.
“Finally I hit on the plan of mak
ing each member who made a spot
cover it with money, pennies for the
children from their own allowance
and silver from the grown-ups.
“We voted what to do with the
money. I was for the hospital, but
the rest preferred to devote it to
something for the table, so we started
a fund to bay new table linen and
china. For the first month or so we
had a flourishing ban¥, but now alt
have grown so careful that our fund
grows slowly.”—New York Press.
} P
Ee ) Y ph
R LIS NEWEST
+ 75} FASHIONS.
w ¥ 4
WL\* o =
:! 0.“ —
: )
’ Newer than the ribbon band about
the coiffure is the pleating of gold
braid.
~ Gray paste pearls as heads to long
hat pins are worn with light colored
satin hats,
Pocket handkerchiefs have wide
clored centres and hems, the initials
done in white,
Russian fish-net veils in dull bronze
are cut entirely square and go over
the entire hat,
Borderanto is the name of the new
chiffon auto veiling. It comes in
handsome colors with dainty hairline
stripe borders,
Ball gowns, especially some of Gre
cian design, are worn without gloves
evea though their sleeves are merely
spologies for sleeves,
A large brown felt hat has no other
trimming than six great brown roses,
some pale tan with golden hearts,
others deeper in tint,
Narrow belts of soft suede in pas
tel colors, to wear at the top of high
directoire skirts; are finished with ob
long silver and gun-metal buttons.
Pretty, but injurious to the eye
sight, are the Breton lace veils, loose
ly draped round the hat and capable
of being thrown back over the face.
Three-inch belts of braided sou
tache, with wide buttonholes, through
which a satin sash is run, tying at
the side, are finished with tassels of
soutache,
Black suede button shoes will be
a good choice for feet that ecan not
be described as of Cinderella propor
tions; the dull surface tends to re
duce the size in the kindest manner,
Blouses are cut like a long yoke,
as fullness underneath the skirt wil
Interfere with its proper fit. A tin:
band of the material, or better sti!
of silk ribbon, is used as a finish an:
iz boomed at the back,
Il Good Roads. §i
e
?
More About Bad Roads.
When the farmers learn to econo
mize as systematically as it is neces
sary for large industrial enterprises
tu economize in order to meet com
petition, and make profits, farming
will be a much more remunerative
calling than it now is. One form of
economy is the construction of good
roads.
In a recent address Allerton 8.
Cushman, of the United States De
partment of Agriculture, pointed ocut
that there are 2,000,000 miles of
public roads in America, and that
about seven per cent. of this mileage
i$ improved. During a year about
86,000,000,000 pounds of products
from the farm are hauled to market
or to shipping points. The cost of
hauling a ton of 'products & mile on
the country roads is upon the aver
age twenty-five cents. Stone roads
in good condition reduce the cost to
eight cents. “Dirt” roads in bad
condition necessitate an etpense of
thirty-nine cents, wet, sandy roads
thirty-three cents, and dry, sandy
roads sixty-four cents. About $250,-
000,000 would be saved annually by
reducing the cost to twelve cents per
ton per mile.
The saving would be, liks the pres
ent loss, so widely distributed that
the computation of the totals may
seem like an idle juggling of figures,
vet it is by such figuring that rail
roads and other large corporations
learn where and how to cut expenses
effectively.
The Washington Herald reduces
the figures quoted by Mr. Cushman
to this form:
“It seems easy to write the figures
§1,000,000 a day; that is the amount
of loss, or rather that is the loss
of gain the farmer would get if he
had good roads. He would get sl,-
000,000 a day more for his products
than he does now. His bad roads im
ply a loss of about $3 a year for every
man, woman and child in the United
States. If we can add that $250,-
000,000 to the purchasing power of
the farmer it is not likely that we
should hear so much about hard
times; there would be bound to be a
proportional increase in prosperity
and our agricultural assets would be
very largely increased.”
These figures do not, of gourse,
take into account the increased value
of farming lands resulting from good
roads being constructed in the vicin
ity. The owners of city property are
more ready to take advantage of an
opportunity for the improvement of
streets that will enhance real estate
values than are the owners of coun
try property, yet both in the country
and in the city it is sometimes amaz
ingly difficult to awaken the interest
of property owners to improvements
that cost a dime in taxes and not a
dollar in increased values.
~The farmer's freight expense is
fixed in part by the railroad, but the
expense begins at the farm, and the
haul to the railroad is expensive or
inexpensive in accordance with the
condition of the roads.—Louisville
Courier-Journal, bR
Road Building Problems.
A feature of the Good Roads State
Convention on the Steel Pier at At
lantic City, N. J., was the reading of
a paper prepared by Frederick Skene,
State Engineer of New York, in
which he reviewed the work done by
the Empire State in the way of road
building. '
Mr. Skene's paper said the State is
now building improved roads in fifty
three counties. On February 1 last
nearly 1000 miles of improved roads
distributed in the fifty-three counties
had been constructed. About 1000
miles were under eontract at that
date, a large portion of which has
since been completed. Three hun
dred and eleven miles were com
pleted in 1907,
The State Engineer declared that
it was impossible at this date to state
deflnitely how many miles of ime
proved highways will be compléeted
in 1908, but a conservative estimate
placed the number of miles at 700 or
over, twice that of 1907, and more
than that constructed in all the years
previous to the year 1907, The Leg
islature has appropriated $11,228,-
265 to date.
Automobile traffic is thus dis
cussed :
‘““The advent of the automobile
has greatly changed the problem of
highway construction. As you all
know, rapld moving motor wheels
tend to destroy and injure the im
proved highways to a great extent.
The automobile, however, has come
to stay, and it is up to us as engi
neers and road builders to golve the
problem, and build a roadway at rea
sonable cost that will meet these
conditions and withstand the ever
increasing automobile traffic.
““Numerous experiments have been
conducted by the department during
the last two years, using oil, asphal
toline, tarvia, rock asphalt and other
substances, some of which have been
more or less satisfactory. I am not
prepared to say, however, that any
of these substances will solve the
problem. It will take time and fur
ther study and experiments to settle
definitely this perplexing question.,”
The automobilist, the State Engi
neer said, is now, and ever has been
from the start, one of the prime movy
ers of the great work of making good
roads throughout the State.
ettt e e e, teesraeenttl)
In Austria and France the p:«
vision of rescue apparatus in mir~
s made compulsory,
A great deal of the Oriental t:
nacco trade is controlled by a Bri.is
American concern, Sl e
The Cost of Keeping :
Up With the Fashions
By LOUISE CASS EVANS.
And the fashions must be followed.
From this dictum there is no escape.
Rich and poor alike, if she would be
happy, must submit. Every woman
knows that it is better to be dead
than out of fashion. And the cost?
Ah, well, that i 3 a minor considera
tion. To the woman who knows how
to dress it can be managed, no mat
ter how small her income. There are
always cheap imitations, and remark
ably clever ones, of every freak fash
ion almost as soon as it appears.
Tnere are shoes where rats are sold
for ten cents' and where lingerie
waists of the most openwork pattern
may be bought for ninety-eight. As
these things are never brounght into
close proximity with the things they
imitate, no odious comparisons can
be made, and they easily pass muster
among the women who wear them.
There can be no stated amount up
on which a woman may garb herself
in fashionable apparel. Some poor
women snend twenty-five dollars a
vear on clothes. other spend one hun
dred dollars. There is a sliding scale
up to fabulous amounts. Some wom
en would scorn to wear a cheap
plume who would gladly embrace the
opportunity of appearing in a near
seal coat. Others would taboo the
coat but complacently bedeck their
fingers with Govnher diamonds and
imitation turquoises.
So a woman may follow every fad
at a greatly varying cost. There be
some who balk at anything imitat’ve
—whose tender flesh would fairly
creep at the touch of aught but fin
est silk and linen underwear; whose
hosiery must ever be of silk; whose
shoes must be hand made, and each
pair match a geparate gown; women
whose exquisiteness of refinement in
every detail of their lives would have
brought joy to the heart of Klaga
balus. These women spend each vear
on dress alone sums varying from
SIO,OOO (this is the usual amount)
to as high as 5200,000. Two hun
dred dollars for a hat, S3OOO for a
single coat—these prices soon run in
to money!—From ‘“Do Women Dress
to Please the Men?"’—The Bohemian
Magazine. i
- sea
Black and White. 3
A few weeks ago, when Charles
M. Schwab, the steel magnate, at
tended a meeting of the American’
Boiler Manufacturers’ Association in
Atlantic City, he, as the guest of
honor, made a very apt remark in a
speech at a banquet in his honor.
‘“While you are honoring me now,”
said he, “twenty years ago I did not
feel that I was anybody. Now I feel
that T am somebody. In the olden
days I have worked with my hands
with just such people as those of
whom I am the guest to-day. ,
“An episode which happened a
short time ago seems to me to be ap
prqprgate,k:fo this occasion. I had
hired a carriage at the railway sta
tion to drive me home. There was a
colored man driving, I overheard a/
woman at the roadside say to her lit
tle son, ‘There goes Mr. Schwab in
that carriage.’ And the little fellow
asked, ‘Which one, mom?’ "—Phila
delphia Ledger. G B
Srete—————— e
The Phantom Cat. -
“Didn’t I tell ye to feed that cat a
pound of meat every day until ye had
her fat?” demanded an Irish shop
keeper, nodding toward a sickly,
emaciated cat that was sllnkingl
through the store.
“Ye did thot,” replied his assist
ant, “an’ I've just been after feedin’
her a pound of meat this very min
ute.” i
“Faith an’ I don't believe vye,
Bring me the scales.”
The poor cat was lifted into the
scales. They balanced at exactly one
pound.
“There!” exclaimed the assistant,
triumphantly. “Didn’t I tell ye she’d
had her pound of zieat?”
“That’s right,” admitted the boss,
scratching his head. ‘“That’'s yer
pound of meat, all right. But’-——
suddenly looking up—‘‘where the
divvil is the cat?”—Everybody’s,
Steel For Cooking Utensils.
A process which makes possible
the substitution of steel for malle
able iron in many articles of light
hardware has been invented by L. 8.
Lachman, and is described in the En
gineering and Mining Journal. The
method is founded primarily upon the
idea that as two pleces of metal of
unequal section do not unite readily,
to form a good weld, two points, or a
point and a ridge, must be raised on
the pleces to be united. These raised
contacts are forced together under
hydraulic pressure, and, forming the
link of lowest conductivity in an elec
tric circuit, are heated by the current
to a temperature at or near fusion;
the two projections are thus quickly
united and form a bond or rivet which
is even stronger than an ordinary
rivet, because it is in one piece with
the body of the metal,
O ——————————————————— ‘ja’g
Wish to Vote,
The Woman's Civic League of At
lanta has just passed a resolution
asking the City Council to allow wo
men to vote on a proposed bond issue
of $1,5600,000, The league points
out that Atlanta has meauy women
property holders who have the good
of their city at heart; that in many
instances their property is the result
of their own efforts, and that if wo
men know how to make money and
how to take care of it they certainly
should have the right to say for what
purpose and by whom their taxes
should be expended.
