Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Why Aliens Will Come Back ' find the Cause of Their Exodus at the :■ Present Tims By T. V. Powderly. Chief of the Division of Information . Bureau of Immigration. E VERAL causes combine to bring about the eastward march % T of the aliens now leaving us. Every year a great The number rail l S 4 , of aliens return to their homes for the winter. * roads, particularly in the North, East and West, lay off <. men engaged in outdoor work and, following this, others + are thrown out of employment. These men find it desir¬ * able to return to their old homes for the winter. They have the opportunity to- visit their friends and relatives, and can live much cheaper there during the winter than here, for food and lodging are cheaper and the climate is not so severe. In other years the exodus began the latter part of October and continued up to Christmas, but this season the rush was accentuated by the financial flurry. Those who imagine that our aliens do not read are somewhat in er¬ ror, for those who cannot read have others to read to them, and they keep a sharp eye upon the trend of events in this country, so that when the pa¬ pers announced under scare head lines that things were going w'rong, these men, not trained to analyze the statements made, took alarm and quite a number more went awifr than would have gone in former years. Another cause is to be found in the fact that every four years, preceding the Presidential election, there is a tendency eastward on the part of the al¬ iens. They hear so much said about the uncertainty of Presidential year that they prefer to take no chances and go home early. There is still another cause for the return of Italians to their native land. It is estimated that about $100,000,000 will be expended in Italy in bringing the railways up to a proper standard of efficiency, and Italy is calling her sons who have learned how to make good railroads in this country back to their old homes. f There is more work to do in this country than ever before; there is a necessity for more men and women to do it, and the first months of next year will sqe a return of aliens who will be able to find remunerative employ¬ ment in this country. t How the Sun Has Puzzled ? Astronomers By W aide mar Kaempfferf i HE great hall of fire-which we call the sun is not really the IT | than sun. trie ly than nothing shells the nine-tenths No fiercest one envelop except has furnace, of ever that a the nucleus it seen solar and must the that of mass. be which sun. It almost must That A we series ajnount infinitely know nucleus of absolute¬ to concen- is hotter more the X ♦ real sun, forever hidden from us. The outermost of the enveloping shells Is about five thousand miles thick, and is called the “chromosphere, It is a gaseous flood, tinted with the scarlet glare of hydrogen, and so furiously active that it spurts up great tongues of glowing gas (“prominences”) to a height of thousands of miles. Time was when this agitated sea of crimson fire could be seen to ad¬ vantage only during an eclipse; now special instruments are used which en¬ able astronomers to study it in the full glare of the sun. Beyond the chromo¬ sphere, far beyond the prominences even, lies the nebulous pallid “corona,” visible only during the vanishing moments of a total eclipse, aggregating not more than seven days in a century. No one has ever satisfactorily explained how the highly attenuated matter composing both the prominences and the corona is supported without falling back into the sun under the pull of solar gravitation. Now that Arrhenius has cosmically applied the effects of light pressure a solution is presented. How difficult it is to account for such delicate streamers as the “prom¬ inences” on the sun is better comprehended when we fully understand how relentlessly powerful Is the grip of solar gravitation. If the sun were a hab¬ itable globe and you could transport yourself to its surface, you would find yourself pulled down so forcibly by gravitation that you would weigh two tons, assuming that you are an ordinary human being. Your clothing alone would weigh more than one hundred pounds. Baseball could be played in a solar drawing room; for there would he some difficulty in throwing a ball more than thirty feet. Tennis would he degraded to a form of outdoor plng pong. From these considerations it is plain that gravitation on the sun would tend to prevent the formation of any lambent streamers and to pull down to its surface masses of any size.—Harper’s Magazine. r The 1 American Accent By Ella Hepworth Dixon. T last our good American friends have acknowledged that it is they, and not ourselves, who have the "accent.” This is a great step toward improving the American language, for A Franciscan up that Islander to his now speech were the was New well at one spoiled bred, Yorker, in assuring by the his rule, Bostonian, “English the to betray traveling accent.” and the Islander emotion The San was too as a any or astonishment at this accusation, but he thought a lot Perhaps his thought was communicated to certain pundits on the other side, for an American Speech Reform Association has just been started, with the laudable intention of teaching young. America to speak the Jifciguage of England, instead of the weird and complicated tongue which is the result of the salad of races and nationalities thrown hodge-podge on to the American continent. Already the society has issued a pamphlet im¬ ploring its compatriots “not to splash your words one into each other,” “not to talk through the nose with your mouth tight shut,” and “not to use the same phrase a thousand times a day.” Even by employing these simple Londoner ex ^pedients, the New Yorker might make himself understood by a without going to the trouble of learning Esperanto, As for the astute Amer ican girl, she has long seen the expediency of approximating her speech to our own.—London Sketch. Giving Her a TusSle. “Good gracious! Look! What can be the matter? There—across the street. What is it that is tossing that worn an about from side to side in such a violent manner?” “Possibly she is trying to hold her tongue.”—Puck. Up to 3906 Pennsylvania produced more natural gas than she ccmld make use of, but now it is necessary to draw upon the supply of Y/est Vir¬ ginia. On the Jump. “The last time I gave you money,” said the kindly old lady, “you prom¬ ised you wouldn’t walk right into a saloon and spend it." “Dat's right, lady,” said the hobo. “Yes, but as soon as you got the money you did.” “Say! lady, don’t youse know the difference between a walk and a sprint?”—Philadelphia Press. The telephone service of Switzer land is operated by the government 11IS FIDDLE. Ilis tender, I. At last ne’s siveet solved life-story’s the riddle! told— He'll usk 'em not for harps of gold: He'll only want his fiddle! *Tvna far ii. away for hi'-t to roam An’ eyes with teardro glistened: When he waa playin Home, I know Home," • the angels listened. III. Seemed like that music, thrillin' far, A heavenly touch was given, Sweet as the singin’ of a star Heard in a dream o’ heaven! IV. An echo came of unseen wings As o’er the lust dark river; A strange, sweet tremblin’ o’ the And tuey were stilled forever. V. But in that higher land an’ fair Where now he read’s Life riddle. Perhaps An’ they’ll need his music there —Frank give him back his fiddle! L. Stanton, in Uncle Remus's The Home Magazine. j Gladys and Victoria They Avoid That Dreffle lizabeth in the Basement. It, J. “Let’s stay down here in the base¬ ment till that dreffle ’Lizabeth goes home,” said Victoria, looking over the edge of the anchored school drink¬ ing cup, which she still held to her lips. "The janitor will chase us out if he sees us,” said Gladys, lookihg around. “And Marie told me thatcnce she saw a mouse down here. And Harriet said that one day last fall a boy threw a snake in here right on a girl. Maybe it will come out when it thinks no one is around.” She shivered and glanced all about her fearfully. “Well, Gladys Hammill, I’d he ashamed of myself to be afraid of such a little thing as a mouse, and everybody knows that snakes die in winter,” said Victoria severely. “Why, a mouse couldn’t hurt you the teeniest little hit in the world—” “Oh! Oh! ” shrieke4 Gladys, jump¬ ing nimbly on the bench. “I saw oae. It ran into the waste basket.” “I don’t think it was one,” said Victoria, looking warily around from her perch on the narrow window sill. “I think it was a piece of paper. I wouldn’t be like you for anything in this world—always jumping around and scaring people.” “Well, you jumped higher than I did,” said Gladys with more spirit than she usually showed. “And if you’d be ashemed of yourself, why did you get on the window? I wasn’t as afraid as you. I stayed on the bench.” Victoria took refuge in dignified silence. Seating herself as far from Gladys as the length of the bench per¬ mitted, she began to study her spell¬ ing lesson diligently, whiie Gladys, humming to herself with her feet tucked up safety's looked nervously around. “S-e-p-a-r-a-t-e,” spelled Victoria, her eyes closed. “A rat! ” said Gladys, explosively. Victoria shrieked and scrambled for the window sill again, but Gladys got there first this time, and de¬ manded from her lofty shelf: "What is it? Where did it go? Was it a mouse again?” "You said it was a rat,” said Vic¬ toria, trembling, Everybody is afraid of rats; they suck your fcreath ” “Why, Vicky, I ne^er said there was a rat,” said Gladys, indignantly. “I never in this world did.” “Why, Gladys Hammill, you did, too. Didn’t you say, “A rat!’ just like that?” demanded Victoria. “Yes, but that was for ‘separate.’ Don’t, you remember that teacher told us there was ‘a rat’ in the middle, so we’d remember and not put that little old ‘e’ in it?” “Well, why didn’t yau say :.o, then?” demanded Victoria. "I did, Vicky, and then you jumped and I thought you saw something.” "You’re such a fraidy cat, Gladys, that you make everybody else fraidy cats, too. Come out and play tag. ’Lizabeth must be home by now. ” They ran out of the basement of the school building and had played but a few minutes when down the stairs clattered the belated Elizabeth and joined the game by hitting Gladys a sounding thump on the hack, shrieking that she was “it.” fou go right straight home, ’Liza¬ beth, and don’t play with us,” com¬ manded Victoria. “We don’t want to play with a girl that tells things that ain’t true. Go right away, or I’ll tell Mollie what you said about her the other day and she won’t do a thing to you.” “There’s Mollie, now,” said Gladys. “Let’s tell her.” “Mollie! Mollie! ♦ «« shrieked Eliza¬ beth, before the little girls could col¬ lect their thoughts, Vicky says you tell things that ain’t true.” Mollie, with a rush, descended upon tham, while Victoria stood helpless and speechless, rooted to the with horror and amazement. “MolHe, you may have my pencil,” quavered Gladys, before ten-year-old amazon had reached them. “l-Iere it is, all nice and ened.” "I wouldn’t take it, if I was you, said Elizabeth. But the eager fingers had closed over the treasure which had been her heart’s desire for weeks, and Mollio was speeding down the street to get out of sight before Gladys should change her mind. "Now, smarty,” began Elizabeth. Eut her speech fled at the sight of Ralph, her sworn enemy, who came around the corner with a grocery basket. .Before he had time to put the basket in a safe place she was running away at the top of her speed. “That kid is going to get what’s coming to her pretty soon,” remarked Ralph, resuming his burden. “She’s a peach, I don’t think.” “Don’t you care, Gladys,” said Vic¬ toria to her mournful play fellow. “I’ll make my brother Billy give you his new little bull pup that he is so crazy about; that’s better than an old blue pencil.” “It wasn’t so very old and it was so lovely, Vicky,” said Gladys, with a lump in her throat, Maybe Billy won’t give me the little dog.” “If he doesn’t,” said Vict.oria, un¬ easily, “he’ll have to fight ’Lizabeth’s brother again, and his eyes are all swelled up yet from the last time. ’Lizabeth’s brother is so much bigger than lie is that Bijly hasn’t any show.”—Chicago News. THE LITTLE COMMODORE And a Seaman’s Seventh Trip Through the Inland Sea. He came aboard at Nagasaki, dressed all in gray, every snap of his keen black eyes telling that he was not delighted with his berth, and for that matter neither were we, the crew, exultant when we looked to our gallant-mast and saw that we had lost a star, for instead of an ad¬ miral’s pennant with two stars we fly the one star of a commodore. It was Commodore Dewey who was succeed¬ ing Rear-Admiral McNair. McCue timed his sweeping to accompany his cracked voice, and sang: “Hurrah, hurrah! for southern right hurrah! Hurrah for the bonnie blue flag, that bears a single star.” But the swallowtail saves it. Oh, the discriminations of flags and pen¬ nant! Some day, when I have noth¬ ing to do, I will go to the flag locker, ust around from the ship’s library, study them out, and write a descrip¬ tive poem about them. A flag that means “yes” at the main truck means “no” on the after gaff. We carry the ensign of every country under the sun, and among our rating flags there are blue fields with one, two, three or four white stars, standing respec¬ tively for commodore, rear-admiral, vice-admiral and admiral. Of the last our navy has had but two—Farragut and Porter. It will cost another war to restore the office. Purdy recognized the newcomer on sight; says he cruised the Mediter¬ ranean with him when he was a middy, and Scotty says, “Him and me was shipmates with Farragut at New Orleans.” These two, with others of the old guard, having approved, we have nothing to do but accept their verdict, and certain it is he can ren¬ der an admiral’s inspection quite as miserable as his predecessor. This through with we started back for Yokohama, making our seventh trip through the Inland Sea. I have seen it in the rosy bloom of spring; in summer, when the purpling mists from the hills came down and nestled among the pendant wistarias; in autumn, when the rose had deep¬ ened into crimson and the golden kiss of Midas awakened it to unwonted splendor. But on this, my last voy¬ age, I thought it more bea”tiful than ever before, for the cold winds com¬ ing down from the home of eternal snow crisped the air until the halos on the heads of the sailors, guardian angels shone with uncommon radi¬ ance. Some time I am coming here again; coming when I may sleep all day un¬ disturbed in my berth, and lie awake all night upon the deck, watching the stars as they guide the mariner upon his way. Or I will loaf all day upon the deck and sleep at night, Oh, joy in the thought to sleep again a whole night through!—From "Three Years Behind the Guns,” in St. Nicholas. The So-Called Frost Flowers. The phenomena called “frost flow- i ers” was discussed before the Bio¬ logical Society in Washington recent¬ ly by Dr. Walters. The so-called flow¬ ers are composed of ice that forms on frosty mornings in autumn and early winter on certain plants. The peculiar thing to be explained is that frost flowers do not form on all plants, but only on about twenty-six species, as far as yet known. Among these are frostweed, dittany, marsh fleabanes and cultivated heliotrope. The phenomena is apparently due to capillary movement of water in the plant, but a wholly satisfactory expla¬ nation is lacking. 9 I Qfs n >\a tiff i rc* ( Eg © Srk j ^ 1 Is) An Early “Good Road. «* The desire to speculate a hundred or more years ago was apparently b - >• reat as it is to-day. An example of this is shown by the organization of a company in 1792 to build a turn¬ pike from Philadelphia to Lancaster Pa., a distance of sixty miles, The charter was secured, and in ten dr iys 2235 subscribers made application for stock. As this was more than the law allowed, the names were placed in a lottery wheel and GOO were drawn; with these subscriptions the work began. The road builders of that day knew little or nothing re garding the construction of high¬ ways, and the ridiculous mistakes ! made on this occasion taught them some valuable lessons. The land was condemned, the trees felled and the roadbed prepared. The largest stones that could be found were dumped upon it for a foundation, and upon this colossal base earth and gravel were spread; then the work was declared complete; but when the washing rar*s came dfeep holes appeared on every hand, sharp stones protruded from the surface, and the horses received scratched and broken limbs as they sank be¬ tween the bowlders up to their knees. The gigantic error of the road build¬ er was then made plain. Indigna¬ tion meetings were held, at which the turnpike company was con¬ demned and the legislature blamed for giving the charter. Had it not been for an Englishman who offered to rebuild the turnpike on the mac¬ adam plan, as he had seen roads built in the “old country,” improved road construction would have re¬ ceived a severe blow. The English¬ man’s proposition was accepted by the company, and he was successful in completing the Lancaster and Philadelphia turnpike road, which ■was then declared to be the best piece of highway in the United States— <« a masterpiece of its kind.”— G. E. M., in the Indiana Farmer. The Price of Bad Roads. In reducing the good roads ques¬ tion to the dollars and cents basis, the Department of Agriculture has handed the farmers and country tax payers generally an argument which they ought to find irresistible. The department’s figures are based on careful and exhaustive tests. They demonstrate that the actual cost of hauling, per ton-mile, is sixty-four cents over dry, sandy roads, eighty nine cents over earth roads of the usual muddy and rutted variety, 11.9 cents on broken stone roads in ordi¬ nary condition, and eight cents on broken stone roads in good condi¬ tion. This means, concretely, that good roads pay ample cash dividends, and that the saving which they make possible far overbalances the cost of construction. A road of broken stone means consistently reduced expenses as long as it lasts. It cost the farmers $21,650,000 to haul the wheat crop to the railroads in 1906. This was an average price., for all drayage, of nineteen cents a ton mile. But where there were im¬ proved roads, the figures show that the drayage cost was only ten cents per ton-mile. Had all the corn, wheat and cotton crops of 1906 been hauled over good roads, the pro¬ ducers of them would have saved $27,000,000. How long will Virginia farmers continue to pay the heavy toll of bad roads ?—Richmond Times-Dispatch. A Recent Decision. A recent opinion by Attorney-Gen¬ eral Malone, of Massachusetts, is of interest to cities and towns that have adopted the plan of oiling highways to keep down the dust, Mr. Malone holds that there is no liability on the part of the authorities for damages resulting from the use of oil and tar roads. His reasoning is that there no more ground for holding a town city responsible for injury to or. vehicles by oil than there for assessing damages when some¬ is spattered with mud. Among places that have taken to oil on highways is Yon where the splendid macadam North Broadway has been heavity with crude petroleuni, to the satisfaction of residents motor enthusiasts.—New York Gallantry. actual;. Here is something that at Eean Lake yesterday AU ■ young couple drove over from J* They went boating, and the took off her shoes and stock 1 ., paddle her feet in the water. V hi • went to put on her stockings she one of them, The young man off his socks and gave them supporters and all. She wo back to town, and he wore ins without any socks.—Atchison