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MAGAZINE,
Science
The World’s Mightiest Telescope That Is to Stand on Top of Mount
Wilson, and Others.
Their Married Life
By MABEL HERBERT URNER.
The
By GARRETT P SERVISS.
rpHE gigantic telescope that the
I Carnegie Solar Observatory is
to possess on the summit of
Mount Wilson in California will be
by. far the most powerful instrument
of observation that man has ever
turned upon the heavens. It will
he even a greater advance in its line
than the mighty Imperator is
*mong steamships.
A year or two ago it looked as if
t might prove impossible to construct
this immense instrument, because the
1isk of glass, made in France, to be
«haped into a concave mirror at
: 'asadena, exhibited bubbles and im
perfections which, it was feared,
would interfere with its usefulness.
Hut further examination indicates
that the difficulties may be avoided
and the work of grinding and polish
ing is going forward.
This telescope will have a clear
'aperture" of 100 inches, or eight
feet four inches! By aperture is
meant tin* diameter of the round
glass as it is exposed to the stars.
There are two kinds of telescopes—
•’reflectors," which have a concave
parabolic mirror to catch the rays of
light and bring them to a focus; and
"refractors.” which possess, instead
of a reflecting mirror, a compound
lens, called the "object-glass,” which
brings the rays of light to a focus on
the side away from the object under
examination. In using a reflector the
observer, so to speak, turns his back
upon the heavens, while with the re
fractor he looks directly through
the telescope toward the object in
the sky. In both cases what he
really sees is an image of the object
formed hv the rays of light in the
focus, and he magnifies the image
with a kind of microscope, called the
"eye-piece."
A Reflector.
The new giant, as already indicated,
is to be a reflector. Both kinds of
telescope have their peculiar ad
vantages, but the reflector is superior
in astronomical photography.
In the picture accompanying this
article you will find a graphic repre
sentation of six of the greatest tele
scopes now In existence, compared in
size with the new telescope for
Mount Wilson. The latter Is shown
both at the right, In its true relative
proportions, and separately at the left,
Inside the dome that Is to cover it,
and with the heavy "mounting" that
Great Telescopes of the World.
will carry it and govern Its move
ments.
Three of the telescopes shown, with
their names and apertures attached,
«re refractors, as is Indicated by their
long metallic tubes. They carry their
object-glasses at the upper end of
the tube.
The fourth and largest closed tube
Is that of the great Lord Rosse tele
scope In Ireland, which was made in
the middle of the nineteenth century,
and was long the wonder of the as
tronomical world. It, however, Is not
a refractor, but a reflector, the maker
having chosen to give It a closed tube,
which has now oeen found to be un
necessary.
Two of the others (or three. In
cluding the unfinished giant) have
openwork tubes. These are all re
flectors.
Now, in order that the reader may
get-an Ideu of the relative power im
plied by the different apertures shown,
it is necessary to say that that *s
measured by the amount of light that
the lens or the mirror "grasps." This
amount is much greater than would
appear from a mere inspection of the
comparative sizes. It depends upon
the square of the aperture. Thus, it
will be seen that the new telescope Is
100 inches in aperture, while the
Rosse telescope, the next in size, has
an aperture of 72 inches. But to
measure the real superiority of the
new Instrument we must compare the
squares of these numbers. The
square of 100 is 10,000. and that of 72
is only 5,1X4. So we see that the one
Is very nearly double the other.
But this does not tell the whole
story. The Rosse telescope has a very
imperfect mirror, made of a special
material called speculum metal, which
i8 far inferior for the purpose to glas?
covered with a reflecting film. On
this account the effective superiority
GIRL SUFFERED
TERRIBLY
At Regular Intervals—Says Ly
Lydia E. PinkhanCs Vegetable
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ly Cured Her .
of the new instrument will be much
greater than a comparison of th°
squares of the respective apertures
indicates.
Bigger Than Yerkes.
The new giant will, on the same
principle, be six and a quarter times
more powerful than the great Yerkes
telescope, the largest refractor now
in existence, and about two and
three-quarter times more powerful
than the five-foot reflector already In
action on Mount Wilson.
One naturally wonders what this
telescopic monster will reveal in the
heavens. I observe that it has been
said that it will show "objects of the
size of a man” on the moon. But
this statement must be taken with a
grain of allowance. If it were not for
atmospheric difficulties, which we
know at •present no means of avoid
ing, a 100-inch telescope might bear
a magnifying power of 10,000 diame
ters. which would bring the moon
within an apparent distance of only
a little more than twenty miles when
it is actually nearest to the earth. In
fact, however, it is doubtful if such
a power will e er be employed, and If
employed It would not give a distinct
image.
Hut the immense amount of light
gathered by the great mirror- will
make much lower magnifying powers
far more effective than hitherto, and
most interesting discoveries may con
fidently be expected from this cause.
Its principal use. however, will be in
photographing, on an unprecedented
scale, the great nebulous clouds and
streams and clusters of stars that
abound in the universe, and here Its
superiority will be so commanding
that the* man will almost seem to
have provided himself with a new and
marvelous eye for surveying the il
limitable wonders of space.
k.
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npHANKS to the information I had
j received from Mrs. Rolfe’s lit
tle chambermaid. I knew that
Rolfe kept the family Jew'els in the
safe of the library, and also knew
which were the windows of this room.
The girl had told me how cruel the
old miser was to his young wife, and
how he had kept her a virtual pris
oner for four years In the house
where I was about to crack a crib.
I wanted to get hold of the family
jewels, which were worth at least a
half million.
To break open the shutters and
open the windows was an easy mat
ter; but just as I had closed the shut
ters again I heard a shot from the
next room. This upset me so that for
nearly a minute 1 stood motionless;
and just as I was about to leave by
the way I came I heard light steps,
and a woman’s voice whispered: "Is it
you, Charles? Why didn’t you knock
at the shutter?
"No, it is not Charles.” I answered,
my courage returning as I reasoned
that the woman, whoever she was,
had good reasons not to alarm the
rest of the house. "But he sent me
to tell ”
"1 got no further, for the electric
light was turned on and I found my
self looking into the barrel of n most
business-like looking revolver. The
most beautifi^l woman I have ever
laid eyes upon was at the other end
of the revolver.
"Who are you, and what do you
want?" she asked. "Hands up!? she
added, as 1 was too confused to an
swer a single word.
“Now you may take them down
again." she said w hen she had relieved
me of the gun I carried. "And now
sit down.”
"What do you intend to do with
me?" I asked after obeying her order
"l have not quite made up my mini
yet,” she said. ”1 suppose you were
after these old family jewels which 1
am wearing now." And she pointed
to some costly diamonds and pearls
she was wearing.
"You are quite right.” I said, un-
I derstandtng ^10 more why she was
wearing this small fortune on her
now than why she had not rung the
bell for the servants and told them o
send for the police.
One thtng was clear, she could he
nobody but Rolfe’s beautiful young
| wife. The shot I had heard was also
a mystery to me. She must be the
j "ne who fired, since she was still
I holding the revolver in her hand, bu
st whom had she fired, and why was
everything still quiet in the house?
"Did you ever kill a humap per
son'" she suddenly asked.
"No, but I tried once?" I answered.
"I suppose you were sorry you did
not succeed ?”
A Confession.
"No. 1 am glad he escaped, though
I hated him as much as one person
may hate another."
"But if yy<$ had been a woman, and
1 your father bad sold you to a human
beast? Sold you to a husband who
tortured you In the worst manner for
four lone years, and who discover;']
your plan when you had Just got
enough courage to run away with th^
man you loved, and who then gave
you the choice of killing him or re
maining in hell all the rest of your
life—what would you have thought
then? Would you have chosen to let
him live?”
Before I could think of an answer
there was a sharp knock at the shut
ters. Charles, whoever he was, had
come.
"Come in. Charles,” she said almost
triumphantly. "1 thought you were
never going to come,” she added, as a
tall young man entered exactly as 1
had done.
"Who is that man, Muriel?" he
asked.
She did not answer his question,
but said:
"1 have killed my husband."
"Good God! It can’t be true!” he
burst out. throwing himself heavily
into the chair from which I had got
up as he entered.
"Go and look yourself," she replied
and walking to the other end of the
room she drew a heavy velvet por
tiere aside.
And now’ I saw a dead man. with
the most cruel looking face I have
ever seen, lying on the floor.
"You need not look so worried,
Charles, dear,” she said drawing the
portiere again. And pointing to me,
she went on: "That fellow will have
to take the punishment. He broke
in here to steal my jewels Just as 1
fired. I kept him here waiting for
you to come. Nobody will ever sus
pect us."
Her Vengeance.
“Oh. why did you do this, Muriel.”
he cried in despair, "and how can
you think of adding a new murder
!•> the first'*"
"We must act quickly,” she said,
and rang a bell. "You must hurry
out by the way you came. I have
rung for the butler and when he
comes I will denounce the burglar as
the murderer. Nobody will take his
word against mine. Then we will wait
some time and get married.”
He jumped and looked at her with
disgust and indignation.
"Never! Never!” he cried. "It is
all over now. 1 could never marry a
murderess."
Never have I seen an expression ot
despair like the one which came into
her face at these words.
I almost felt sorry for her. but 1
used the chance to escape through
the window. When outside I stood
awaiting what would happen next. 1
saw an elderly man enter and heard
him say:
"You rang the bell for me. mad
am ?"
"Yes. T did,’’ she said, calmly. "Your
master has been shot, and there/
pointing to Charles, “stands his mur
derer.”
W ITH Warren’s note still crushed
in her hand, Helen lay sob
bing on the blue silk draped bed
at the Hotel Ronveray. To the beauty
of the rooms, which had lured her Into
engaging them, she was now indifferent.
Oh, why had she moved to this place
without consulting him? She might
have known he would find some way to
punish her.
Again she smoothed out and re-read
the crumpled note. It was brief and
sarcastic, saying merely that since she
had taken things in her own hands she
could “keep it up" and dine by herself.
To deliberately leave her alone on
their second night In Paris was a cruel
punishment, and Helen had lain there
too heart sick to think of food. Yet she
had had nothing since breakfast, for in
the excitement of getting breakfast, for
in the excitement of getting their bag
gage moved over from the other hotel
she had not stopped for luncheon
When at length she rose It was after
10 Her eyes were read and swollen,
and* her dainty gown was badly rumpled.
It was a very forlorn little woman that
looked hack from the mirror now com
pared to the excitedly happy one re
flected there before Warren's note had
come. •
She was Just starting to unhook her
dress ^hen an angry shake of Tne sit
ting room door sent her Hying to open
It. It was Warren. A glance at his
face, and Helen knew that he was furi
ously angry.
‘‘Oh. I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t know
the door was locked,” she began in hur
ried apology.
Very Angry.
Without speaking he strode past her
Into the room, flung some papers on a
table and himself into one of the rose
silk tapestried chairs.
Still without deigning to glance around
the room, he scowlIngly lit a cigarette.
Helen stood awkwardly by the window,
fumbling with the tassel of the cur
tain and waiting for him to comment
on the place—or at least to rage at her
for having moved. But he did neither.
From the "silent treatment” to which
Warren sometimes subjected her, Helen
shrank even more than from being
raged at. Once he had not spoken to
her for days. Was this now to be her
further punishment? Had not the long,
lonely evening without dinner been
enough 0
"Dear, please don’t be angry about my
moving." pleadingly. “You know how
dirty that other place was—and these
rooms are so lovely and so reasonable!
I really thought you’d WANT me to take
them ”
“Huh, you did—did you? Well, you
took devilish good care to get here be
fore I’d get a chance to say WHAT 1
wanted! Nice state of affairs for a man
to get to his hotel and And his wife and
baggage gone."
“But, dear, 1 only thought it would
save you time and—”
“Drop it! DROP IT, I tell you! You
wanted to move here—well, you’re here,
aren’t you? What’s the matier?” no
ticing her reddened eyes. "Been having
hysterics over it?”
Helen bit her lip.
“Well, there’s one thing you can
count on,” with sneering emphasis, “if
you ever come abroad again you’ll come
alone and put up where you blame
please! I’ll not be in the party. Now,
for heaven’s sake, stop your sniveling,’’
and throwing his cigarette Into the grate
under the marble mantel he slammed
into the bedroom.
By the sound of his moving about
Helen, who was waiting in numb misery
by the window, knew that he was get
ting ready for bed. Suddenly he opened
the door with an angry:
More Shouting.
“Where the devil did you put my suit
case?”
"In the closet, dear; all your things
are in that big closet."
"Only closet I see’s hung full of your
duds.’’
In the white wood paneling the closet
door was hardly noticeable, and now
Helen darted in and threw it open with
an eager:
“Isn't that a beautiful closet? And all
those patent hangers were already
there! Oh, dear, don’t you see It’s real
ly a wonderful place, and so perfectly
appointed!”
But ^-ith another impatient, “Oh, cut
it!” Warren dragged out and opened
up his suit easy.
Helen went hack into the sitting room
and gazed unhappily out the window,
until a creaking of bed springs tokl her
that he was in bed.
He had turned out all the lights, and.
afraid to disturb him by their glare.
Helen undressejl by the light from the
street. The narrow cane beds were side
by side, but she crept Into hers with a
feeling that Warren was miles away.
He lay with his hack to her, his out
stretched form under the white sheet
1 looking almost glant-like in the dim
light.
The unfamiliar objects and shadows
of the room, the strangeness of the
atmosphere, accentuated her wakeful
ness.
Her head ached, and she was now
conscious of a gnawing hunger—the ef
fect of having eaten nothing since morn
ing. The discomfort itself she was tou
unhappy to care about, but the fear
that it might keep her awake to worry
and anguish through the night made her
think of a cake of milk chocolate that
Warren had bought on the train. Softly
she slipped out of bed. opened her
satchel and felt for the chocolate.
“What in the deuce are you trying to
do?” demanded Warren, suddenly
switching on the light by a button be
side his bed.
“Nothing, dear,” shrinking from the
sudden glare, "I was just looking for a
piece of chocolate."
“Chocolate! What's the matter? Hun
gry? Didn't have much dinmr?”
“Not much!" stammeringly.
“Not much? How much?”
A Suggestion.
Helen flushed as she unwrapped a bit
of tinfoil from the chocolate.
“So that's it! Didn't have any dinner
at all, eh? Another of your fool per
formances. Well, don’t eat that stuff.
1 don’t want you here sick on my hands!
Chuck it, I tell you."
Warren was already up, getting into
his slippers and dressing gcfwn.
“Dear, what are you going to do?’’
anxiously as ’he cros&cd the room and
pushed a. bell.
“Get you something to eat.’’
“Oh, 1 don't want anything, excitedly.
“I’m not hungry. I only thought I’d
sleep better if 1 nibbled at something
Oh. please don't order anything up here
—it’ll be so expensive at this time of
night! Why, it is almost twelve!"
Warren growled at her to "keep still,"
and rang the bell again.
"What can you get to eat here, this
late?” Helen heard his demand of the
boy who had come to the door. "What's
that? Well send me a waiter—one who
CAN speak English! Understand? Yes,
ENGLISH!”
Just what Warren ordered Helen, who
was still in the bedroom, could not hear,
but when he had given the order he
came to the door with a peremptory
"Get into your dressing gown—jwe're
going to have something to eat!”
Bewildered, yet following a quick im
pulse, Helen took from her trunk one
of her prettiest negligees. It was a
pale pink chiffon, charming over the
white lace of her nightdress. Her rum
pled hair she smoothed under a boudoir
cap. Her eyes, no longer red, were now
feverishly bright.
There are few conditions under which
a woman is not conscious of her charm,
and even now Helen felt a faint glow of
pleasure as she glanced in the mirror.
Warren had turned on all the shaded
lights in the rose silk sitting room. The
waiter had already brought up a folding
table, and was now setting it with
elaborate care.
A Mystery.
What dtri it all mean? She had ex
pected only a few sandwiches—why all
this china and silver? But for once
Helen was discreet. She asked no ques
tions and made no comments, and War
ren had settled himself with some pa
pers by a shaded reading lamp.
When a little later he opened ihe
door to a waiter with a loaded tray
Helen gazed in astonishment. There
was a broiled chicken, French peas, arti
choke and a bottle of claret. The
waiter arranged it all on the table with
a deftness and quickness that only a
French waiter knows.
The Louis XV room with Its gilt fur
niture and silk hangings now looked
more than ever like a stage setting—
the Bohemian supper'seene in the sec
ond act. And Helen was conscious that
her trailing negligee and Warren s quilt
ed dressing gown were a part of it all.
The iheatrical instinct Is in every wom
an—and in Helen it was very strong.
When finally the waiter opened the
wine, filled their glasses, drew up two
chairs, received his tip and bowed him
self out, Helen sank into one of the
chairs still in a dazed but happy bewil
derment.
“Well, you can sit there and stare if
you want to—I’m going to pitch in.
Looks pretty good to me."
“Why, Warren; didn’t you have din
ner either?"
“Not much,” grimly.
Helen looked at him. Then dropping
her napkin, with a breathless cry, she
ran over and threw her arms about him.
“Oh, you DIDN’T—I KNOW you
didn’t! You were wretched, too! You
couldn’t eat any more than I could!
Oh, you dear—you WONDERFUL dear!’’
showering kisses on his hair and neck.
“Oh, I’m so happy! It shows you DO
care!”
"Look here, are you going to let this
chicken get cold! Now sit down there
and eat your dinner, supper—or what
ever you call this meal. I’m blamed
hungry, I tell you. Go on," shoving her
away, hut not ungently. “Here, what
part of this bird do you want first—
white meat or a short leg?"
Dodgin was the new manager of a
biscuit factory, his name and features
being unknown. There was a work-
; man at the concern who liked to sneak
! off to a shed at about 3 in the after-
| noon and smoke a pipe and look over
I the afternoon papers for an hour or
so. Well, one day, as the workman
sat smoking in the she'd, Dodgin ap
peared.
“Who are you?” Dodgin asked
sternly, frowning at the idle work-
] man.
The workman frowned back.
1 "Huh! Who are you?” said he.
"I’m Dodgin. the new manager,”
i vaos the reply.
At this the workman smiled.
"So am I.” he said, heartily; “come
| in and have a smoke!”
• • *
There was but one apple tree in the
j Browns’ yard, and this year it bore
I just one apple. This apple the chil
dren were forbidden to pick.
Mrs. Brown looked up into the tree
one day, and, failing to see the apple,
* called her six children to the spot.
The Mistakes of Jennie By HAL ... CQFFMA i N
Being a Senes of Chapters in the Life of a Southern Girl in the Big City .
< -J
The man stared at her covetously.
CHAPTER XX.
HE boss had given Jennie "a week’s notice”
I and she was to leave the following Saturday.
A In the meantime she was devoting every
spare minute she had to looking for another job.
But it was the dull season and most of the firms
were “laying off” their help instead of hiring any.
Coming from work one evening the latter part of
the week she noticed the FELLOW waiting on the
corner for her. but she saw him first and dodged
back, going out by another door, saying to herself.
“I can’t, can’t, do THAT—unless it comes to either
THAT or STARVING.”
Going home oil the car she met a girl friend who
knew of a place where she thought Jennie could get
a job, but it was only $5 a week. Anyway, that was
better titan nothing, and it might tide iter over
until she could find a better job. So next day at
lunch time site hurried over to apply for the new
place.
It was a dark, dingy sort of a place, with no
other girls working there, and seemed very sordid
indeed compared ta the other place where she had
been working.
The man stared with covetous eyes at Jennie,
telling her she would have very little to do, that he
just wanted someone to stay there and answer the
phone and things like tlfat when he wasn’t in—and
Jennie was to come to work the following Monday
morning.
If Jennie had not been so pleased and excited at
getting tlie job she might have noticed that the
man held her hand much longer than necessary
when he bade her good-by.
—HAL COFFMAN.
(To Be Continued.)
^The Ghost Breaker
By Charles W. Goddard and Paul Dickey
The Most Exciting Serial
of the Year.
“Children,” she said, sternly, *‘I told
you not to pick that apple!”
"We didn’t pick it!” the children
answered in chorus. And the eldest
girl added, in an injured tone: "You
can see yourself that it’s still on the
tree. I—I mean—the core is! We only
climbed up an—an’ took a bitfe once
in a while—we didn’t pick it!”
* * •
Mabel (apropos of new evening
dress which has just arrived from the
dressmaker)—Oh. mother, how love
ly! Do'wear it to-night!
Mother—No. dear, not to-night.
This is for when ladies and gentlemen
come to dinner.
Mabel—Mother, dear, do Vet’s pre
tend, just for once, that father’s a
gentleman!
* • *
Jones—My wife and ! suffer from
alternate insomnia.
Brown—Alternate insomnia! What
is that ?
Jones- - Whichever gets to sleep first
keeps the other awake all night by
snoring.
SERIALIZED
By J. W. McCONAUGHY
(Copyright, 1913, by Star Co.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
“That’s an unlucky gesture,” he
taunted. “How did you know that the
treasure was there?”
"That’s where you’ve been working,"
was the instant response.
"You forget that I have never seen
the memorandum," retorted Jarvis.
“Until you stole it,” added the Duke,
with an angry glare. “Can’t you see,
Maria?”
The boldness of his last stroke made
Jarvis gasp. It also made him mad
clear through.
“Yes,” agreed the Princess slowly,
“one of you two stole the locket.”
"Which one of us two?” snarled her
night. He strode over to the Duke,
gripping the revolver in his hand.
“You can’t lie yourself out of this!”
he declared, In a tense, menacing voice.
“Twice to-night you tried to have me
murdered! Why didn’t you have the
nerve to come out into the open? I
told you all ghosts were cowards—but
you haven’t the courage of a rabbit! If
It weren’t for her I’d blow your d—d
head off and send you after that other
poor devil that you’ve got to answer for
sooner or later!
“Now you see here!” His teeth
clicked together and he was pale to
the lips. "Give me that locket! No—
give 'her that locket—quick! Quick! or
by the living God, I’ll break your—come
on!”
For a second or two the Duke bit
his lip and mustache and gazed into
the gleaming, bead-like eyes and white
face of the young American and tooK
note of the hard breathing and the rigid
muscles quivering under the light coat—
and the heavy revolver gripped in the
right hand. It was the equipment and
the temper o/ a killer of men
the locket without the slightest trace
of embarrassment. The Princess took it
and shrunk back from him as if from
pollution, but he seemed not to notice.
Turning again to Jarvis, he remarked
pleasantly:
“You play a good game, Mr. Warren.
Are all Americans like you?”
“They all play the game in Kentucky.
Get out!’’
The Duke appeared to consider this
for a moment. Then, with a bow, he
walked to the (fcpor and disappeared,
stopping only to remark In the same
pleasant tones:
“Mr. Warren, take her advice and re
turn to Kentucky.”
"Say!” snarled Jarvis, and was about
to pursue when the Princess stopped
him. Instantly his whole manner
changed. She looked up at him with a
strange little smile and asked gently:
"What kind of a place is Kentucky?”
The revolver went back to its place.
He looked into the girl’s eyes and he
saw a fair and rich land of winding
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He walked over to her and held out
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streams and green-clad hills and fertile
valleys, breathing softly In the summer
sunlight. Forgotten were the Markhams
and the blood-feuds’ heartaches and he
thought only of her—of leading her
there.
“God’s country. Lady!” he said, rev
erently. “Must I go back alone?”
“You must go—but you—need not go
alone!”
The End.
“Do you play any instrument, Mr
Jimp?”
“Yes; I’m a cornetlst.”
“And your sister?”
“She’s a pianist.”
“Does your mother play?”
“She’s a zitherist.”
"And your father?”
“He’s a pessimist.”
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