Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Science Henri fabre and His Wonderful Career Described and Outlined by Garrett P. Serviss By GARRETT P. SERVISS j H CRE Is a face better worth study ing than those of the inulti- , millionaires, political bosses, lead j ers of fashion and disturbers of peac i whose countenances are so constants I before the public's eye. It is the face of a man, *.K> years old, who has devoted his whole life t*> the study of the manners customs arts j and ideas of the world’s smallest Inhab ; itants—the insects. If you doubt whether Insects have ' idaas you have only to rca<] some of the captivating books that llenrl Fabre the man in the picture has written in order to be convinced that if those lit tle creatures do not think they do ; something just as wonderful “Do you say that these are small verities which th«- ways of a spider or a grasshopper reveal to us?" exclaims Maurice Maeterlinck, In his praise of Henri Kabre "But there are no small verities. There is only one verity whose mirror seems to our Imperfect «yes, broken, but whose every fragment, whether It reflects the evolution of a star or the flight of a bee, conceals th*- taw supreme! In France, where they are erecting, at Avignon, a monument to Henri Kabre, as in ancient Egypt and ancient Rome they erected monuments to the Pha raohs and the Caesars, while they wei yet living, they call him the modern 1a Fontaine —the La Fontaine of • Science. Without depriving the lower world of life of any of its poetry, lit has surrounded It with greater fascina tion of biography and history- the hi«»p raphy of bees and ants, and the hlitorv of communities whose, whole domain cover only a few square feet 6f ground! And these recitals are full of poetry and Imagination—guided by science Until you have read soina of them you can not imagine how interesting they are H Is with reason that the French are no • saying that the children of the futur will read the true stories of Henri Kabr about Insect life as eagerly as hitherb children, and many grown people, have rasd Tai Fontaine's fables. Two Lessons Kabre’s life teaches two great lessons, first. the lesson of concentration, and, saeond, the lesson that knowledge is not valuable to humanity unless it is com municated Shutting himself away from that part of the world which culls itself busy, and, until now», hardly known to the world at large, he has devoted Ids whole long life to the single aim of learning all that an observant man could learn about the millions of little six-legged beings which moat of us either despise or detest. He stands alone, as on a pedestal, for It is generally conceded that he knows more about insects than any of his contemporaries or any of his predecessors. Do you think that such knowledge Ih not worth acquiring? Then come hack again a century hence. If you car, and see what the encyclopedias will be saving of him then Thousands The Mistakes ot Jennie b L. hal - cop Z man Being a Series of Chapters tn the late <d a Southern Girl tn the Big City rrnm «w bw-M *51™!!*'* a Orrmati voratn# * *11. Of • ?■„<*«, •«* mv-tlst'**® hf Henri F.tD.e at Work. of men whom you now regard as mon uments of ‘‘success" will have only u few lines devoted to them if anything at all while Henri Fabre will probably have columns. It Is only by concentra tion that he has achieved this lasting fame. Ah to the second lesson that he teaches, we need only remark that he understands, hm fow men of science do, that the wish of the entire world to know what it« few original investigtorrf are finding out in a wish that must be respected and gratified for otherwise science is merely #a thing of privilege, confined to a kind of intellectual aris tocracy. Accordingly he has written his hooks in language which anybody can understand, and in a style whose beauty attracts tens of thousands of readers. Most scientific writers can not tree themselves from their technicalities: Henri Fabre has never forgotten that technicalities are only tools which have no place in the finished work. Has Not Suffered. Vet his science has not suffered from hie popularisation of it. Darwin, when he wrote his great book on the “Origin of Specie," spoke with enthusiastic ad miration of Henri Fabre as "the inimit able observer," hut, at the same time, thousands of people who were not nat uralists were reading Fabre’s books with a zest which is too often confined to the consumption of novels, and his readers have increased every year since. Edmond Rostand, the playwright, has sung, in verse, no lees enthusiastic than Maeterlinck's tribute tn prose the praise of Fabre’s wonderful charm as a writer A SENTIMENTAL EPISODE A Short Storv 1 NOTICED her first in the lounge of the Splendid, and 1 smiled sympa thetic-ally at the obvious devotion of the boyish young swain who bent over her chair, f^he was so slim and fresh, so charmingl> ingenue, that I had stopp'd involuntarib to stare, and was nearly knocked over l»> a burly man whose gate was also filed on the pretty young thing He apologized, and I ehonk myself impatiently and went out shocked. “Surely you have a home and parente —" "Not in London," she interrupted sim ply ‘‘You p«*e. I make fashion sketches. I am a bachelor girl." 1 smiled sadly at the pride in her voice. I’m 40, and I’ve “bached" it my self for fifteen years, and know all the realities of bachelor-girl life, it’s make shifts and depressions, as well as its in dependence felie returned my smile a arm up the street. Fate and a taste for t Utile wistfully, and her eyes crept fur mathematics have made of me a spinster scboolma'em. but I have a throbbing mother-heart. 1 adore slim, pretty girls, yearn over them. As I went into Deere /k Stone's I was thinking that, if l had beer; blessed with a daughter. 1 should have liked her to look just like that young. “W«jet and uitfip' lied "Pardon me. madame. but 1 believe this is yours." 1 turned and met the laughing eyes of viic girl herself, holding out u fringed velvet bag. I looked in bewilderment ut my empty arm my velvet bag had hung “Dear me. so it is," I fussed very kind ot you. I’m sure." “1 gm so glad I found it." She went on with a little laughing nod. and I was turning back to the neckwear when 1 noticed the man v h<> had nearl> knock*' where •It's tlvely toward the man In the corner “We're sisters In the working world," I suggested. "Why not come and have a cup of tea at my rooms, and inciden tally we’ll lose the creature?" "It would be lovely," she agreed. But the brute followed us off. and I was about to appeal to a policeman when the girl took charge in a manner thai astounded me. She boarded a crowded car. pushed her way to the top, ran down the front stairs, jumped off und into a vacant taxi at the curb. I followed, puffing, in her wake. As bachelor girls go. I’m prosperous enough, but 1 do not affaet taxis, and I I confess I was a bit awed. | "But what address d!d you give the j chauffeur?" I demanded. "Mine is at 1 the Seine Mansions " me over at the Splendid entering the j “Well," she smiled wickedly, "l said door. It flashed upon me instantly tba' j the King’s, but I’ll change It. he was following the girl, and I felt j rr>y race flushing with indignation. IJn- j hesitatingly I turned and went after j him. with a sort ot protective rage for i the pre: . child in my heart Saw Man Following She was leaving the shop b> a side *tret: entrance, with the man a few ygrds behind, as 1 caught sight of them I hurried breathlessly after, ready to summon An officer* directly he ap proached her. But he seemed in no hurry to do no, and she took her leis urely way toward Husbarn. lingering now and then before a .shop window. 1 felt Yather ridiculous 3 1 took a *eat in the tram opposite the brute, but determined to see i ts tffair through He sat in a corner on the same side as the girl, ano 1 at once discovered that tie was staring hard at her reflec tion in the window behind me With a fresh surge ot protecting rage 1 crossed over and sat down beside her "My dear hilo, do you mit:«i if 1 mum over and tail; to you? 1 began She raised her wide, swet eyes to mine “It’s lovely of you.’* saki she and there was a little quaver n i '-r • i. "You’ve seen tnar horrid man following ith, haven’t you. Do you know mm " She paid fee, and wc "You live alum "Oli, but withered—li lated. "but 1 looked the chauffeur his robber’s went up. • too?” she asked I’m old and hardened and doesn't matter," 1 ejacu- y 011- w h y “ - glit seemed rather unnerved, I thought. , was the brute up at hep and hesitated. She was young and charming, but 1 was struck with a certain sophistica tion, a poise thut I had missed be fore. "I’m young but, oh, so wise." She l ad thrown off her handsome coat and stole und stood before a little Whistler that had cost me many a privation. "You know he cun t draw of course?" bhe said argumentatively, while 1 light ed the flame under my copper kettle. We threshed out Whistler’s art to shreds, and then we drifted to books. With the second cup of tea our dis cussion grew fiery. She was a Pagan —a cynical, soulless creature--that young, fresh, pure-faced thing, and she left me aghast at her daring 1 showed her my three little rooms and kitchen ette proudly. She was charmingly in terested in everything, even the dumb waiter Before we had returned to the living room the bell pealed vio lent!'. 1 answered it, annoyed that the hullboN should have let anyone up. Standing then with a leering smile, and I regretted that I had rot intet before "Perhaps I shouldn't aiarn -u. N&id. "but I saw him matching you u the Splendid- horrid creature! What 1 pitiful shame that a young gir s fresh Bese should make her a !<«' .-i.i 1 anno'ing attentions " Smiled at Her Pride. “I do not mind being ijtare*. at & much, she said plaintively man has followed me before, i \ all alone, and aottietlreee I’m airuu "My oear child' I eriec honeatb I want to speak to the other ope." he said, trying to peer over my shoul der 1 smiled scornfully. "You are a brute, aren’t you*" 1 said "How dare you! 1 shall cull the hall boy and have you put out." I let down the bar. “It’s absurd," I said shortly. “But you can come in and convince yourself." He followed me into the living room, and 1 looked about in amazement— the girl had gone "Flown,” Hald the detective briefly. “Is there another door?" 1 shook my head dumbly and follow ed him as he examined the kitchenette. He jerked open the dumbwaiter door, and gazed down its black, 111-snielilng shuft. Just a Diamond Pendant. "Roomy enough," he muttered. “She*s only a slip of a thing ” * "But how do you know?" I volun teered timidly. “W-what—did she—did —she ’’ He looked at me in open disgust. “A diamond pendant—that's all. I wanted to get the goods on her—bet she's got ’em, too, but I ain’t so certain. My partner is watching her pal—he slipped it to her at the Splendid." I could only gape at him aghast, as he picked up his hut and started out. "She’s made her getaway by now, I reckon." he grumbled. "I didn’t ex actly size you up. nor why she was stringing you." Then he stopped “But would you mind telling me, lady, why you interfered ?’’ 1 flushed crimson. "1 thought you were trying -trying to speak to her," I stammered. With a half muttered ejaculation he disappeared Afterwards 1 looked distractedly about for my velvet hag. It was gone with my purse and my mother’s watch! * * * It's incredible, preposterous, big I must believe it's trae. This morning the bag came back by messenger with its contents untouched. There was a note too. in a sprawling, girlish hand: "Dear Protector—You were awfully kind. Sorry I couldn't know you bet ter. 1 had to take the bag because, you see. the pendant was in it. I slipped it into your bag before I re turned the bag to you—for safe keep ing If the detectives picked me up. It was a close call, but I couldn’t lose the pendant. We—my husband, and I — are suiling to-morrow for a long rest Good-by." And for once 1 am glad l never had n daughter. (C'.wrtaAtei. Ittfc ky leWrsaP«*4J Wtm TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. "How did you know that?" he asked quickly, and then, recollecting: "But I would love to hear you aing. Miss Lloyd." 'That’s very nies," she teased. “On th*' ground, I suppose, the singer would make up for the song." ‘‘Undoubtedly,’’ he agreed heartily. Mr Lloyd came into the conversation at this point. Ho you don’t like music, Mr. Allan?" “I’m afraid If 1 an. compelled to an swer under oath I should have to Hay that I am not partial to It," he con fessed with a laugh "I suppose some thing was left ( out of me—I'm fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils, and nothing else. "M. Shakespeare wu* a trifle harsh, I think," commented Mr Lloyd, grave ly. “But he was on tfTe right track. I,ack of appreciation for music, oh I take it, is not due necessarily to a lack of moral fiber in a man It’s generally because his mind is too active to relax, even for a moment. You, in your **ase, have to think—you don't need music. Up until the laat few years It waa much the same with me. I could sit through a concert, but the music had no mes sage for me. It is only when we roach the age where we can afford the luxury of aimless dream® that music makes its true appeal." "Envy me," laughed Ethel. "It's a luxury that I could afford from child hood." "True, ’ her father smiled, "but you miss an even greater luxury." And he offered for Allan’s inspection the con tents of a humidor, the stocking of which had come to a trifle less than $1,060. The Tunnel Again. Ethel sang » light Httle song, ar.<i at IU eonduiion her father turned abrupt ly to Allan and began talking about the tunnel Allan gathered from his manner that lie and hi* daughter had discussed the possible future moves in the great proj ect with even greater fullness than she had indicated. But he rat bar ex pected her to withdraw ae soon as* her father took this tack. Probably she was waiting for a graceful opening Allan swiftly went over the figures that he had been working on for the paet months, and father end daughter listened in silence. He had every de tail at his finger tips, and he talked easily and convincingly. "I fully agree with you, Mr. Allan," said the financier, at the conoluslon of the report, "that we should resume work as soon as it it humanly possible —by that I mean work on the full scale. I still hold to my original object that half-measures would weaken rather than strengthen public confidence "There is a German company trying, with some nuccess. I believe, to raise funds for a trans-Atlantic air line," remarked Allan, meaningly. The old banker nodded emphatically. "Quite so—quite so. Everything points to the fact that we must begin work at once—or abandon the enter prise for all time. And this involves a financial sacrifice that appals mo." "You mean the abandoning of the work?*’ "Precisely For a long time I have believed that that alternative must nett be considered." It was in Allan’s mind to say that Mr. Lloyd had managed to keep the conclusion to himself with remarkable success, but he wisely refrained. In stead he declared boldly: "Give me the right to use your name and personal credit, Mr. Lloyd, and I’ll begin work to-omorrow night." Again the financier nodded and Al lan’s heart hounded with exultation. "I have had something of the aori in mind for some time, my boy," he said. "When you decided to play the hermit —and even before that time —I had thought some of making the venture, or at least talking it over with you, but Ethel here ’’ He broke off with with a teasing laugh Allan starter! and looked quickly at the girl. She flushed a deep red. "Don’t pay any attention to father’s jokes, Mr. Allan," she pleaded. Allan laughed and murmured some thing inconsequential His thoughts were whirling. Ethel had given him the impression that she had won her father over t-» her way of thinking, and her father had certainly lnplied that she had caused him to withhold the help that Allan nee.den. A suspicion, which else in the world. A suspicion ft which his lack of a certain kind of egoism caused him to reject, flashed into his mind. Ho could not explain Ethel’s embarrassment or fathom her motives In that Instant, and the conversation took on a strainer! note which even Mr. Lloyd detected A T last Ethel made some excuse to withdraw and when she had gone her father turned to Allan with an apologetic smile. "I’m probably ig for a seen© with Ethel," he .said whimsically. "I'm al most tempted to keep you here indef initely as a protection, Mr Allan. She is really your ally, Mr. Allan, but she has some pride in her old father, and she did not think that all of th© ad vances ought to come from our side." Allan laughed and said rhat he un derstood; but a short time later he took his loatc. Nothing definite was fixed in the course of the conversation, and he agreed to come again within the week and have a more detailed talk over prospective ways and means. Allan walked to his hotel, his mind working busily to arrive at some ex planation of the strange little incident. Ethel was his ally, her father had said. He had gathered the same impression from her attitude toward him since his return from Europe But she had told her father, when he was willing to start the financial ball rolling <#nce more, that all of the advances should not come from the Lloyd side. On top of which she had taken the trouble to come to Tunnel City, waylay him ami drag him into an interview, in the face of his former rudeness One Clear Thing. One thing, at least, was clear through ail of it. Kthel wanted him to think that if the tunnel enterprise were re habilitated he would have her to thank for it-—her and no one else. But why? Allan flushed in the darkness of the winter night and felt uncomfortable at the mere thought that came back to him for the second time. He was not vain of his power to attract women—he didn’t know that he had any such power. He would have been surprised and embar rassed lo learn it. And yet—what game was Ethel Lloyd playing if not a game of hearts'.’ Why should she advise her father to withhold offers of aid and then put her pride in her pocket and come to Tunnel City to persuade Allan that with him on her side her father coijld be in duced to give aid if it were asked? At any rate, it behooved him, he told himself, to walk with circumspection until he could see the motives and moves more clearly than at present. But there did not seem to be any pos sibility of clearer vision in the near fu ture. When he went to the Lloyd's the next time Ethel was out and her father talked evasively of the tunnel plans. There was much to be considered—af fairs bad taken a new- turn—he would have to w^lgh things a little more care fully. Allan left without Ihe semblance of a definite assurance of new backing. Once more despair was reaching out for him. To Be Continued Monday. Jennie Made a Brave Attempt at Smoking a Cigarette. Chapter 29. J ENNIE looked around the cabin of the yacht in open-eyed wonder, for she never never, »aw anything so cozy and luxurious. The young man pressed an electric button and a Chi nese boy in white coat and apron appeared, and the young man told him to bring drinks and cigars, which he did as if by magic. .Tennie asked the young man if he was on his vacation and where he ever got. such a beautiful boat. To which the young man shrugged his shoulders and laughingly said he had “been on a vacation ever since he had been born,” his father had given him the boat, and the hardest work he did was ’ navigating her from one country to another. That it was getting nearly time for him to go down tp Florida and the south coast for .the Win ter, but he hated to go alone, and said to Jennie in an apparently joking way: “Wouldn’t you like to go along? That stateroom you see there, through the open door, can be yours’—it was the one Jennie had Brst noticed, all done up in pink and white—“and we could have a bully tim#.’’ About this time the Chinese boy appeared witu more drinks, and Jennie made a brave attempt a. smoking a cigarette, but 1t was useless, for the smoke choked her and she couldn’t get to Ilka it a bit. Jennie at last realized that she MI’S I’ go. home. She told the young man how sick her inothe was, and he was as sympathetic and polite as could be and gave an older to one of his crew to have the launch got ready at once to go ashore. After helping her onto the dock and bidding her good-bye until the next day, Jennie walked or home to the poor, simple little cottage Tom had hired for her and her mother. “Oh, why, why couldn’t I marry a man like that? " Jennie kept, saying over to herself. —HAL COFFMAN. (To be continued.) | AN AWFUL NIGHT A Thrilling Advert tare Story Advice to the Lovelorn By BEATRICE FAIRFAX He's Happy in tbe Summer. "P ©as© help a poor fellow wot can’t work at his trade on account of fhe weather!" whined the tramp "Here's a dims, said the charitable lady. "How does the weathar Interfere with your work?" "Thanks. ladj Yer see, I’m a pick pocket. an the cold weather makes everybody keep their hands In their pockets." "Nothin, ht gazed A Hint. -«ll> ou km c explained hnpu : coat, he di6playot: lain-clothe© mar M Spnpgins gently > M> near, a I trmnd >f mtn« was Shot at by a bur- [ glar. and his life was saved by a but- I ton which the bullet struck." Mrs. ^prlgyins Well, what of it? Mr Songgins Nothing onlv the but- :eiifc mast have been on TO A CERTAIN DEGREE Dear Mies Fairfax: I am a young man 17 years of age and in love with a girl of J6. I have known and loved this grirl three years. My parents like her and her parents, as far as I un derstand, like me. What I want to know ia, are we old enough to keep company, for I love her dearly. PERPLEXED Your fidelity for three years/ and the approval of all concerned entitled you to greater privileges than your years deserve. Keep company with her to this extent: Be her beat friend, her chum, her big brother, until you are old enough to talk love seriously. TRY TO FORGET HIM Dear Miss Fairfax: I am 18 and in love with a man • years my senior. Tic is Jewish and I am not. He wants me to marry him I agreed, but he wants me to turn Jewislt and neither my mother nor I like that. So that parted us. He doesn’t want to marry me unless 1 turn Jewish. I love him dearly. HEARTBROKEN The difference in religious belief is too serious to be dismissed lightly, and this, with your mother’s objec tions, and your youth, furnish rea sons why you should try to forget him. Moreover, my dear, isn’t it a little selfish in him demanding that you make the sacrifice of religious belief? Why, if he really wants you, does he not make it? CERTAINLY. Dear Miss Fairfax For many years I have been great friends with a certain young lady. She is about to celebrate her birthday, and we have not been speaking to each other for a short time. 1 wish to inquire whether or not it is proper for me to send her a wirthday card, ac I have aiwayt sept her one whenever she cele brated her birthday. FLORENCE. Send her a card by all means: but before you send it be sure you are the friend its sentiments would indi cate. And, my dear young woman, you will not be that friend unless you can lay aside all differences and be on speaking terms again. Jobshaw’s Game. JobBhaw was taking a friend for a spin in the second-hand motor he had picked up at such an absurdly low fig ure when something went wtong with the works and the car stopped dead. He dived under the machine and dis covered among other defects that two nuts had jolted off during the journey. "It’s only a mile to the nearest town, old mah." said the apologetic owner of the ear. "If you wouldn’t mind walk ing there and get a couple of half-inch nuts from the iron-monger. I can put the other things right by the tim© you get back." And for the next half hour Jobshaw was tinkering and tapping away beneath the car: then he started to wonder why his friend had not re turned. Presently he heard footsteps. "That you, Lorkins?" he inquire*} "B-s-sb!" came the reply from a bucol ic-looking gentleman who peered at Job shaw under the car E come back ten minutes ago. I told im you’d gone across that there field yonder. E« a-clamberin through edges an’ ditches looking arter yer Keen quiet, an’ ’e won't find yer for hours, gux'nor." "What on earth do you mean?" bel lowed Jobshaw, as he wriggled into sight "I’ve been waiting for him, you idiot. I can't fixe the car up until he gets here "Want ’im, do yer? ' exclaimed the surprised countryman. "Why, I thought 1 was elpin’ yer. guv’nor. Seem' where you'd tucked yourself away, I reckoned you wos ’avir’ a game o' ’ide an' seek!" I T was in Bantos that the awful night’s experience happened. The Brazilian aeaport was visited by the yellow fever horror; all around and about us ships were dally losing members of their crews. Eight o’clock in the morning would see an off! or walk smilingly along to re port that the night had been passed in safety; 10 might well And half the forecastle complement writhing in affony the most fearful. My little cabin was stifling; It was necessary to keep the ports firmly closed to prevent the noxious vapors of the river from penetrating every where. The night was close, notVi breath of wind stirred. There was hardly a sound save for the slow, choking gurgle of the water past our sides; and the stillness made the ten sion unbearable. I rose to my feet, threw on a light jacket and went on deck. It was almost as bad here, for a thin, clammy vapor was rising from the water. The moon was near its setting; it threw ghastly gleams through the mist and made the ships at anchor off the shore look like rot ting corpses. "This is getting unholy,” I said to myself. "I'll take a run ashore and try to throw off the obsession.” J had the ship’s boat lowered and pulled across to the quay-side. Then I made a hurried progress through the sleeping town, and started to climb a steep htll that ran up toward £?ao Paulo. Climbed Faster. Gradually the beauty of the night, the declining moon shining clear in a sea of purple, the rustling trees tbout me and the appearance of the half- seen, mist-shrouded w'ater, bred a kind of intoxication in my veins. I climbed faster than before; reached a level plateau, went on with a rol licking laugh, and chased my own shadow as cheerfully as any child Then, as the moon sank from view. I plunged recklessly into a small brake or copse of trees, stumbled forward, felt my feet break through the ground, clutched frenziedly at thin air. and found myself faliing down like a stone. Inetinetly I threw out my hands to seek some holding, but found none Down I went, down and down, and the blood sang a mad chorus of spite in my dinning ears. It seemed av If the depths of this pitfall were inter minable; I clawed once at the sheer side, my fingers close on a friable earth. I seemed to rebound somewhat and continued my descent. I methodi cally threw out my arms again, felt my body brush something that rustled, clutched with the frantic en ergy of a madman at something thar slid painfully through my fingers tightened my clutch and found mv self brought up with a shock that seerneu to wrench my arms from their sockets. There I hung at arm’s length, gasp ing feebly, quite unable to realize what had happened Dimly I seemed to know that I had been saved, but in© problem that slowly pres'entel itself to my understanding was: Saved for how long? All around and about v n3 darkness like that of a grave. Scarcely a thing moved, save that now and then a little trickle of loosened earth seemed to run down- ward. The rumble of the falling soil died away into a diminuendo, and 1 shuddered as I clung to the provi dential branch, for it seemed to me that the depths reached inimitably below me. A Strong Man. I felt my strength ebbing away from me like a river’s tide; I renewed my tenacio’us clasp, but knew that with the crackling tendons on my wrists weakening every moment, it was only prolonging the agony and postponing the inevitable end. But with a quick instinct for life, I reached down one foot as far as It would go, seeking for some other holding, only to find the toe of my shoe kicking aimlessly about in the thin air. Now I shouted aloud, shouted in a voice that seemed to my inflamed senses, to carry right away down the hillside to the very ship. Only the dul] echoes came back to me mockingly. Again and again I yelled, until my throat was parched and smarting. When I had grown sick and incapable of shouting more I resigned myself to death. But 1 was not thirty, and the de sire for life was strong in my soul. I would not die. I grated it out a dozen times—yes. even though I felt my hands slowly numbing and the black ened blood pulsing like a sledge hammer beat in my temples. I would struggle until the last ounce of my strength was exhausted. Now I reckon I must have been hanging to the branch for something over two hours by this, and I defy anybody, even the stoutest athlete, ro draw himself up chin high to a hori zontal bar after hanging suspended for one-half the time. But I did it. uneasily enough, but with many pantings and strugglings, but I did it. I was a strong man. and the love of life added to my strength. Then I had a happy inspiration. I wore a stout lea* her belt about my wa’st: b» dint of much wriggling 1 was able to loosen it. and swing clear. Funeral Designs and Flowers FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Atlanta Floral Company 1ft* EAST FAIR STREET BIRMINGHAM EXCUR SION ROUND TRIP $2.50. Special train leaves Old Depot September 22. Re turn on reguiar trains. SEABOARD. QHICHESTER S PILLS ✓-CN. . UIK niAMOND BKANI, V* ' $ ir v Working strenuously, my teeth assist ing my free hand. I managed to bin the arm that wa, over the branch t the branch itself. Then I eounte myself safe. No matter if my strengt failed me I should not fall. And prayed that some succor might ap pear when morning came Then I must have lost conscious ne&s for a while, for my recollection of the ensuing time are hazv In th extreme. I awoke at last chilled t the bone, and a feeling as of gnawin teeth in my upper arm where th strap held me safely. I was who!! worn-out. but my first instinct wa to cast my aching eyes above. The I saw something that brought m heart to my mouth again. A fair grtyness showed In the sky; I coul see it through the interlacin branches overhead. I saw then tha my conceptions of the distance I ha fallen were altogether at fault, could not have descended more tha forty feet before I struck a brand but that hardly altered the terribl circumstances of the case. How wa I to climb up again to safety? I gritted my teeth when th thought came to me, and looke downward. All was still dark be the light was gradually filling th upper spaces. At -ast the radiar daylight clothed me where I hung; i traveled downward. And within te minutes more I saw what I saw. When I hac been hanging at th greatest strength of my arms the floe of the pit was barely two feet awa from my toes; good, sound earth! ] I had released my holding I ehoul have been perfectly safe. But ther is a lock of white hair above my lei ear to show what that night of horro spelt for me. The Stranger. A stranger knocked at a ms door and told him of a fortune to made. “Urn," said the man. "It appe that considerable effort will be volved.” "Oh, yea," said the stranger; will pass many sleepless nights i toilsome days." “Um,” said the man, "and who you ?" ‘‘l am called Opportunity.” "Um." said the man, "you call yo self Opportunity, but you look 1 Hard JVork to me." And he slammed the door.. . -UK ’MAMOND BRAND. Ladiec* Aak j«itr D-uk£|«i foe 1 Ilia in K*d and £oid irrtmliic boxes, seised with Blue Ribbon. lake no other. Bny «f.g ir .V" "® liny of ▼»_. niVH<l\T» ilRAND HILLS, L"?" n _ aLS Rest ’ r,afest - Mways Reliable years known as *est. Safest. *!wtvs Reliabli SOIDCV DRUGGISTS EVERYWHFP r CHANGE Suburban Schedule Central of Georgia Railway Effective September 14. auburton* train No. 108 will leave Atlanta 6:16 p. m. instead of 6:10 p. m. Arrive Jonesboro 7:15 p. m. AdT. CARS WITH A’LA CARTE SERVICE TO CINCINNATI & LOUISVILLE