Newspaper Page Text
SUNDAY MORNING.
A MATTER CF OOUBT.
J? ve t° read of daring deeds.
Of clash and clamoring of war;
To learn of one who bravely bleeds,
Defending what he’s lighting for,
But South America is much
'Too mingled for my mind to hitch—
The tangle they are in is such
I don’t know which is lighting which.
They’re skipping out with treasuries.
And blowing public buildings down.
And every city quakes and sees
Some doughty leader’s fighting frown.
The cable brings the thrilling news
Of men who die in some last ditch —
To grasp it must ray mind refuse—
I don t know which is fighting which.
The clang of swords, the blustered boast,
Are ringing now both night and day;
The troops are battling on the coast;
By sea and land they run away.
I wonder if they know the truth.
Or if to fight they simply itch. £
I wonder if they know—forsooth,
Ift hey know which is fighting which.
—W .D. Nesbit, in Baltimore American.
THE DEAD ALIVE.
A Drama of To-Day
By Hubert Cecil.
PISSPITE tin.- lute hour, lights
shone iu the library, together
with the glow and reflection
of a big, cheerful fire. Drawn
near to this was a round oak table cov
ered and littered by documents of all
descriptions; while beside it with his
head resting on his arms. Horace Nor
oliffe, banker and broker, sat soundly
sleeping.
Outside the casement window, whose
curtain had not been lowered, was a
face sharp as that of any fos. The
small eyes, intense and glistening, were
tiled immovably on the slumbering
man, and the slhu, dapper body quiv
ered with triumphant excitement at the
sight.
Cautiously inserting a clasp knife
blade, he deftly forced up the hasp,
then stepped within, closed the window
and dropped the curtain.
Gliding noiselessly to the door, he
turned the key in the lock.
Presently, however, lie shook the
banker smartly by the shoulder. A
disapproving grunt was the only re
sponse he received. But a vigorous
slap on the back brought Horace to
his feet with a bound. Slariug about
him, dazed and bewildered, he finally
perceived the amused intruder, at
whom he gazed long and incredibly.
"Who are you?” he demanded, when
his astonishment permitted. "What do
you want here?’’
“I answer to Jedrey, and my business
here is—well, rather peculiar.”
“Then state it quickly and begone,”
said Horace sternly, with his hand on
the bell, “unless you wish to be ar
rested.”
“You may ring yourself blue, my
dear sir," returned Jedrey, “but no one
will heed you. It has turned 12, ami
tlie servants are all in bed. Besides,
yon would be wise to hear me. A man
of your prominence should always
have a clear character, and not a mere
pretence to one."
“Why, what do you mean?” said Hor
ace sharply.
“Mean?” retorted Jedrey, “I mean
to tell your history better even than
you know it yourself.”
He then sketched the banker's career
In an accurate manner. He told how
wbca a susceptible young man lie bad
married a Woman who, older than him
self, afterward proved to be unworthy
of the love he liad bestowed upon her
either before or after he had made her
his wife. As he had desired to avoid
the scandal of a divorce Ik; had left
her to seek his fortune in a distant city.
Reports that came to him from his old
home told of the woman's downfall,
disappearance, and finally of her death.
'After several years had passed he had
met and murried his present wife and
was enjoying to the full the happiness
of perfect love. Much as lie regretted
to disturb this happiness, the visitor
continued, he was obliged to inform
him that his first wife was not dead,
but living and anxious to see him.
“Heavens!” exclaimed Horace, ail
apathy vanishing in sudden dismay.
“Alice alive? Alive? But no; impos
sible! It is false—hideously false! Be
yond the slightest doubt she committed
suicide.”
“Have you ever had absolute proof
that the buried woman was actually
your wife?”
“No. but ”
“Then don’t be deluded any longer,"
declared Jedrey, literally beside him
self with glee. “She is rto more dead
than you are. She has been craving al!
these weary years to see her beloved
husband. And, by the way, capital,
and plenty of it, is the only thing to
quiet her!”
“If you do not instantly depart”
shouted the banker, clenching bis
hands fiercely, ”1 will kill you—l swear
It!”
“The threat," he said, “is both empty
and foolish. However. I will obey your
command if you promise to obey mine.
The sole object of this visit, on behalf
of Alice, is money. Money wo must
have—shall have. The amount decided
upon is £20,000. Do you agree to pay
it?” '
"Twenty thousand pounds?” mut
tered the banker. “Yes! I agree! But
I cannot pay it now, or ltere.”
“That is immaterial,” chuckled Jed
rey. advancing and unlatching the win
dow. “Your word and my knowledge
are sufficient. Meet me on the other
side of the Dennon Arches, two nights
hence, after dark. Be sure to bring the
money. Fail to do so, and Alice herself
will call upon your wife!”
Shuddering at the appalling menace,
Horace fastened the window and then.
silently praying for some way of es
cape, lie hastened to unlock ihe door
of the room, to find his wife, clad
only in a loose, flimsy dressing gown.
She had fainted away.
Lifting her tenderly in his arms, he
carried her back to iier own room,
where he successfully applied restora
tives.
She had awakened, it seems, in the
midst of a dreadful dream. She
thought he was in danger, that site
might lose him. that they would soon
be parted forever. And Horace, with a
cruel, aching pain at his heart, realized
how prophetic must the dream become.
To remain with his wife, should Alice
chance to be alive, was utterly out of
the question. His conscience and in
tegrity, the whole man in him, forbade
that. He would prove the dream either
true or false, even though the result
might break his heart.
The next day, therefore, he instructed
his valet to pack his portmanteaus, and
forward the same to him, directly he
sent for them. Then he called on his
lawyer, an old college chum.
“George," he said, brokenly, gripping
his hand, “certain circumstances have
arisen which may necessitate my leav
ing the country. 1 shall know definite
ly to-morrow night. Everything is hor
ribly unreal, as yet. But there, ask me
no details, there's a good fellow. Only
pledge your word to take this explaua
lion to my wife. Comfort her, George,
in memory of Ihe old days. Let no
harm befall iter, don't allow her to
grieve or fret, settle my affairs for
her.”
And ere the astonished man of law
could accept or refuse the trust. Horace
had rushed away.
How the intervening hours passed,
Horace was never clearly conscious.
The appointed time, however, at last
drew near, and faint and haggard, lie
quickly repaired to the place of meet
ing. anxious, yet dreading, to learn the
worst. Jedrey was already there, and
stepped forward from the shadow of
one of the arches.
“That's right," lie said briskly, “I'm
glad I did not mistake my mau.
Brought the money, I suppose."
“Why else should I be here?” replied
Horace, striving to conceal his trem
bling apprehension. “Yet even you
cannot expect me to pay until Alice is
produced alive.”
“That is easily done,” said Jedrey,
keenly enjoying his discomfiture. "Fol
low nte; it isn’t far.”
Dejected and wretched, with every
hope now shattered, Horace trudged
mournfully iu the wake of his guide.
Yet had they thought to look behind,
they must have Inevitably detected
three figures creeping stealthily after
them.
Presently a dull patch of light be
came visible. It shone from the win
dow of a small, square cottage, old and
dilapidated, whose door opened readily
to the touch.
The interior was a combined living
and sleeping apartment. A low, filthy
bed occupied oq^g-orncr.
In a chair at the side sat, or rather
swayed, a woman truly indescribable.
Coarse matted hair hung danky about
her head and shoulders. Ilcr features,
clean and washed, must have been
more than repellant; but, black, grimy,
bloated, grinning, they presented an ap
pearance shocking and repulsive in the
extreme.
“Hello, Horry, old boy,” she cried,
“bow are you? Cotne, give us a kiss,
dearie! What! Is my cherub shy?
Ha! ha! ha! Then let me give you
one!”
Tltc banker surveyed her silently,
dumbly, blankly. There had been no
deception, no trickery.
“Are you satisfied yet?” queried Jed
rey, sardonically. “Perhaps you would
like still further proof. Alice,” he com
manded, turning to her, “show him
your marriage certificate.”
“Ha, ha, ha!” giggled Alice, fumbling
among the folds of her tattered dress.
“Proof docs he want, eh? Pretends
not to know his loving wifey, does he?
See,” she added, drawing forth a
crumpled document, and lurching to
ward him with it; “there you are,
dearie, in black and white!”
Suddenly, however, the door flew
wide back, and George Grimmell, dart
ing inside, hastily snatched the paper
and scanned it eagerly.
"Hurrah!” he shouted, throwing
aside the drunken woman, who
stumbled across the bed and passively
lay there, half sobered by surprise l .
“As I imagined! before she met you!
Mixed the certificates! Officer, officer,
catch that man! Quick; don’t let him
escape! That’s It; slip the jingles on
him! Horace,” lie continued, shaking
his ha*! excitedly, “you’re a fool!
Don't you comprehend, man? .Tedrcy’s
her husband—her real and first one!
And Lucy’s your wife—your second
and true one!”—Now York News.
The I’ay Author* Receive In Japan.
Japanese authors receive so little pay
for work in their own country that a
native writer says there is no hope
for any remarkable Japanese work to
be produced. A Japanese man of let
ters, in order to live in bare comfort,
has to produce at least four or five
long volumes a year, and it is seldom
he receives as much as two hundred
dollars for a voluminous novel. In or
der to live decently he must earn at
least seven hundred dollars a year. It
will be seen from these figures that he
can scarcely be expected to do any
fine work at that rate of production.
The only professional Japanese author
in America at present is Onoto Wa
tanna. Miss Watanna’s striking suc
cess in this country ought to encourage
other Japanese novelists to learn Eng
lish and come to America.—Harper's.
Of those sentenced by English courts
as habitual drunkards more than one
third are women. -
Mining Anthracite.
How The Pennsylvania Coal Fields
Are Worked.
THE word anthracite, which
lias become such a vital part
of the life of the American
people, is a striking example
of how the world becomes dependent
on what may be termed the latter-day
progress of mankind. Just loti years
ago Philadelphia received her first
shipment of anthracite coal. It came
to the city iu two great river arks, and
was used to gravel the sidewalks. A
small quantity of. this coal was burned
in a grate, hut the experiment was not
a success, and in 1800, when another
ark load of coal tied up at the wharf
in tile Quaker city it was rejected
no one wanted it. In ISOS Judge Fell,
of Wilkesbarro. successfully burned
anthracite iu a grate. In 1812 another
effort was made to market anthracite
coal in Philadelphia, but nine wagon
loads which were sent there from
Pottsville had to be given away.
The real history of the anthracite
coal industry begins in IS2O, when 3(55
tons of coal were shipped to Philadel
phia from the Lehigh region. During
Ihe next ten years the trade from the
Lehigh regions was firmly established,
and the Schuylkill region was opened
up upon the completion of water com
munication with Philadelphia. During
the latter part of this period the Dela
ware and Hudson Canal Company was
organized and began the shipment of
JL
BARSS~APAftTd MIM 1
(jr 1 nArnmt \\ \\ \
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y/ gig
CAST |
COAL BREAKER, SHOWING METHOD OF PREPARING ANTHRA
CITIC COAL FOR MARKET.
anthracite from Carbondale by the
canal and (he gravity railroad.
Front this time on tlie trade rapidly
Increased, canals and gravity roads
multiplied, only to be replaced by lotto
motives on their advent. One of the
first locomotives used in this country
was for the purpose of hauling anlliru
clte.
The process of mining anthracite coal
consists of two methods—stripping and
closed work. Stripping is the process
where the coal lies near tlie surface
of the ground as it does in many in
stances in the anthracite field. The
closed work is that done under ground,
or at the bottom of a shaft. Owing to
the character of the deposits the room
and pillar system is employed. When
the shaft cannot be placed so ns to
reach ihe lowest point of the deposit,
th coal below is readied by inside or
blind shafts or inside slopes. These
shafts, which are sometimes sunk to a
depth of over 1000 feet, usually have
several compartments, one for the
pumpway and ladder, and two or more
for hoisting. A common size of the
hoisting compartments is 7x12 feet.
The coal is brought to tlie bottom of
the shaft from the inside or blind shafts
by means of small ears, and in some in
stances sheet iron chutes, according to
the inclination of the shaft, according
as the blind shaft slopes up or down
from the bottom of tlie shaft, from the
surface.
Anthracite is mined with band rotary
drills and by black blasting powder.
Dynamite or giant powder is used for
flack work, sometimes for driving
gangways, and in some locations for
blasting coal itself where five damp
necessitates a flameloss explosive. Tlie
mines are ventilated by rotary fans.
The law requires that each miner shall
be supplied with at least 200 cubic feet
of air per minute. Fire damp is preva
lent in many of the anthracite shafts,
necessitating the use of safety lamps
by the miners.
The cost of mining anthracite coal is
greater than the cost of mining bitu
minous coal, and this cost does not “nil
when the coal is landed at the surface
of the mine. Anthracite ns it comes
from the mine consists of lumps of va
rious sizes, and intermixed with these
lumps is a mixture of rocks. Those
lumps must be broken and assorted
as to size before the anthracite is ready
for the market, since the economic use
of anthracite requires that the lumps
THE BRUNSWICK DAILY NEWS.
must be of as near uniform size as pos
sible, 'and as there is a greater demand
for the intermediate sizes, the largei
lumps must be broken down to smaller
sizes. This elaborate preparation
greatly increases the cost of the coal.
Anthracite is prepared for market in
what is known as tile coal breaker, a
large building, usually built of timber,
but sometimes of steel and iron. The
coal is broken up by machinery con
sisting of toothed rolls, after which it
is screened in circular revolving
screens. Tile slate is picked out by
hand by boys and old men, who sit
along the chutes through which the
coni passes. As far as possible the
work of sorting sizes and picking out
impurities Is done by machinery. As
Ihe illustration shows, the general plan
is to sort the coal over inclined liars,
then to pass what goes through the
bars over revolving or slinking screens,
while wlint goes through goes directly
to the loading bins, or else is broken
up into smaller sizes by rolls and then
separated into the various sizes by
screens. Tlie capacity of the average
breaker is front 2000 to 3000 tons of
coal a day.
The tendency of recent years lias
been to use more of the smaller sizes
of anthracite, and consequently the
breaking has been done with this end
in view.
Curious Siirffiotl Chso.
The popular belief that a man who
receives a wound from a bullet in the
heart is bound to die therefrom almost
instantaneously is now seen to be un
founded, for at tlie last meeting of tlie
French Academy of Medicine I)r. Pey
rat told of a man who was restored to
health alter his heart had been pierced
by a ball from a revolver. Tlie wound
ed man, he said, was placed In a hos
pital In Paris, and Dr. Launny, a noted
surgeon, operated on him there with
great success. According to Dr. Pey
rat this is tlie only case of the kind
oil record. True, statistics recently
compiled by Dr. Dentu, show that out
of every hundred persons who receive
wounds in the heart from swords or
daggers from thirty to forty-two are
cured, but, though medical books have
been carefully searched, no record has
been found in them of a man wiio
lias been rescued from death after his
heart liad been perforated by a ball.
Tin* Telephone In Corsica.
Ajaccio, in Corsica, the birthplace of
Napoleon, lias anew telephone service.
At present its subscribers are three in
number.
Photograph by Atman A Cos.
The Hon. Michael Henry Herbert,
(Succi-HBor to Lord Pauncet'oto a British
Amba-sador to the United States.)
Brussels lias a church clock wound
up by atmospheric expansion induced
by the heat of the sun.
Two More of Our Series
of Tombs of the Presidents
Thoiouft Jpftenioii,
At Mouticello, near Charlottesville,
Virginia, Thomas Jefferson was buried.
The plain granite shaft at the grave
hears an inscription, prepared by Jef
ferson himself, setting forth that it is
tlie burial place of tlie author of the
Declaration of Independence.
' H I ‘t'h ■ ■** ' WSlif
iy-4! ii|
Andrew Jackson.
Like several of the early Presidents,
Andrew Jackson was buried beside ids
wife, at liis homestead, The Hermitage,
near Nashville, Tennessee. This cor
ner of the estate was afterward bought
by the women of Tennessee and given
to the State.
Woman at Railroad Cropping.
The feminine guardian of a railroad
crossing is a type well known to trav
elers in France. As the train ap
proaches a crossing on. sees a quaint
old dame, with a sunburned face, wear
ing an apron with wondrous stripes,
and a queer-looking 1 lack hat made
of waxed cloth, similar in shape to tlie
old straw hat of tlie Jack Tar of by
gone days. This hot is only worn
when a train goes by, presumably to
give n certain amount of official dignity
* 1
GUARDING A FRENCH RAILROAD CROSSING
to the wearer when on duty. Slung
around the left arm is the trumpet
with which warning is given to pedes
trains and others of the approach of a
train, and in tlie right hand is seen tne
red flag, which is kept rolled round
the stock when tlie road is clear, and
only unfurled as a danger signal.
“IT’S THE PACE THAT KILLS.”
"
Auto—“ What was your record last week?”
Trolley—“ Seven.” . •
Auto—'‘Oh! You’re dead slow. Mine was nine.”
Trolley—“ Yes, but I once nearly killed a President of the United States;
you can’t beat that.”—Philadelphia Inquirer. -
A REMARKABLE ‘‘CATCH.'*
NDie-Year-Old Girl Liflnd* n Ninety-seven
Found Fish.
Miss Kathleen Duusnmir. the nine
year-old daughter of tlie Premier of
British Columbia, succeeded not long
ago in landing the monster fisli in the
illustration, which actually weighed
A NINE-TEAR-OLD FISHER MAIDEN’S RE
MARKABLE CATCn.
ninety-seven pounds and measured
over five feet, considerable more than
the little lady who made so successful
a haul. The catch was effected from
a steamer anchored in Union Bay,
British Columbia, a strong salmon line
and salmon bait being used, and so
delighted were tlie crew with her suc
cess that nothing would satisfy them
but that the small flsherwoman and
her giant lisli should be photographed
together.
A Woman** Unwieldy Road.
Hardly anywhere in tlie world docs
the traveler see men, women and chil
dren staggering under loads so un
wieldy as in Mexico. The photo, re
produced—taken in Pcotlau, Mexico—
shows a native girl with both bands
full of baskets and a stack of hats on
her head which would crush an ordi
nary American man. A Mexican wom
an will walk the streets all day carry
f .
From a Photo, by Winfield Sc<
“hardly anywhere in the world
DOES THE TRAVELER SEE MEN,
WOMEN AND CHILDREN STAGGERING
UNDER LOADS SO UNWIELDY AS IS
MEXICO.”
lug such a burden and look and feel
none the tireder for it.—The Wide
World Magazine.
The Punishment Sufficient.
The law 1 has no penalty l'or stealing
a heart, because the punishment of
having it left on your hands is enough.
—Now York Press.
A man has to have a pretty hard
cheek to travel on his face.
Our. Budget
of Humor.
Tlie Awakening.
Beryl—“ Yes, when Jack married her
lie thought site was an angel, but It
wasn’t long before he found out his
mistake.” . W&
Sibyl—“ Disappointed?”
Beryl—“l should say not. He found
she was a good cook.”—Baltimore Her
ald.
Cnn.e of the Trouble.
Homer—“ Great Guns! There’s Nex
door and his wife quarrelling again.
That’s thq fourth tlmo this week.”
Mrs. Homer—“ Yes. Mrs. Nexdoor
told me tlie other day that they
couldn't agree as to what each should
do to make the other happy.”—Chicago
News.
Came With Her.
“Your husband." said the talkative
man, “has such a gentle disposition.
He inherited it from bis mother, I sup
pose?”
"No,” replied Mrs. Henpeck. signifi
cantly. “I think I may safely say that
was part of my dowry.”—Philadelphia
Press.
Punctured.
“The enemy,” said the aid, as he low
ered his field glasses, “is preparing to
charge. A full brigade of bicyclists is
about to be burled against our left
flank.”
“Order up a regiment of tack sprink
lers immediately,” commanded the gen
eral.—Chicago Post.
I * ’
Admiration.
“You have a profound admiration for
that philosopher.”
"I have.”
“And yet you say you don’t fully un
derstand what he writes,”
“That’s true. But the fact that ho
understands it himself shows that lio
must be a wonderfully smart man.”—
Washington Star.
Blunt,
Sol. Shullowpate—'“Doctor, what do
you think is the cause of this rush of
blood to my bead ?”
Dr. Cutting Ilintz—“Nature; it ab
hors a vacuum.”—New York Press.
Anticipated.
“Don't you think we had better lay
aside something for a rainy day?" wa
the somewhat reproachful.
“Charley, dear,” said young Mrs. Tor
kins, “I’m so glad you said that.
While I was out shopping this morn
ing I bought two lovely silk umbrellas;
one for you and one for me.”—Wash
ington Star.
What Frightened Her. *
Mistress—“ There is no need for you
to be so frightened in a thunderstorm.
When you hear the thunder, that tells
you the lightning that 'preceded it did
not strike you.”
Maid—“But it doesn’t tell me tha*
Ihe next flash won’t strike me. That’s
the one that's bothering me.”—Boston
Transcript.
“Their Wedding; Journey.’*
Harry—“To tell the truth, I don’t be*
lieve Alice ever cared tor me,”
Harriet—“ Nonsense! What put that
idea into your head?”
Harry—“l know what I'm talking
about. How otherwise do you account
for it that she remembers everywhere
we went on our honeymoon ?”—Boston
Transcript.
Wliat Ping-Tong is Uke.
“Ping-pong,” said the lady in the
golfing skirt, “is just like golf.”
“It’s just like tennis,” declared the
lady in the linen suit.
“You’re both wrong.” observed the
heavy-set gentleman who was wiping
liis brow and breathing with evident
effort. “It’s just like hard work.”—ln.
diannpolis News.
The Kasier Way.
“I’ve been two weeks trying to coax
my husband to give me SSO to buy se '
new dress,” complained Mrs. Gazzam
to Mrs. Wiffles.
“I never do that.”
“What do you do?”
“I have my new dress charged and
leave my husband to fight it out with
tlie collector.” - Harper’s Bazar.
The Thoughtful Hostler.
“See here, John, this automobile of
mine looks as if it had had some pretty
lively usage. You didn’t have it out •
while I was away, did you?” 1
“Why. yes, sor. I did. I was afraid |
it would git shtiff slitanding in the 3
shtable so long, an’ so I gave it a little
lively exercise, d’ye moind, every pies
int day.”—Cleveland Plain-Dealer.
No Way Out.
“I couldn’t get out of marrying her,” .
Ilenpeck explained. “When she pro- :
posed she said, ‘Will’you marry me?
Have you any objection?’ You see, no>.
matter whether 1 said ijes’ or ‘no,’ shi*
.-.‘ il mi'."
“Why didn't you just-keep silent, ;
!hen’s" inquired his friend. >■
“That'* wliat J-did. and she’said, ;
Silence given consent;' and that ended 3
me.”- Phi.lftdglphla Press. , 4.
NOVEMBER 16